I'm writing this on my first day after arriving in San Isidro, where I'll be spending the next seven weeks. As I've already mentioned, the first two days of my trip were spent with the whole group of 11 in La Ceiba and I should describe that time before detailing my current situation. The most memorable moments were walking across the bridge with many missing planks in the National Park “Pico Bonito” (this is the picture for this blog post), being nervous around the police men with the huge automatic weapons, seeing more Pizza Huts in close vicinity to one another than I've ever seen in the States, and eating meat from a bone for the second time in my life (and the second time I've done it to avoid being rude). Unfortunately, though, almost as quickly as we arrived in La Ceiba, we left; on June 2nd seven members of our group boarded a bus headed for Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. Four members got picked up about five hours into the trip to continue on to Jesus de Otoro. Remaining were myself, Rebecca, and Sarah, as we rode on the bus for an additional two hours to Teguc where we first met Carlos. He was our FIPAH envoy whose task that night was to drive us another 3 hours to Vallecillo. Turns out Vallecillo is the name of the municipality and a town but that the place we were actually staying was a different community named San Isidro. I think that this simple miscommunication should have tipped us off that the rest of our minimal expectations needed to be left at the door. This is where the title of the post finally starts to make sense. It turns out that the place we will be sleeping every night also serve's as FIPAH's seed bank for the entire Vallecillo region. There are two small rooms on the left and right when you enter the seed bank with some wooden beds and ancient mattresses. First reaction (at least from myself and Rebecca): Seriously? This was what I had so anxiously looked forward to settling in to. After traveling the entire day with the too-much luggage I had packed, I was moving into this. This is the beginning of what I know is an adjustment period for me. I had one when I traveled to New Orleans and to Puerto Rico. The question remains as to how long this adjustment period will last. Did I mention that our toilet, sink, and one-option (cold) shower were outside?
This post's shout-outs go to Jocelyn and Rachel, two of my favorite people at UNC. Both of these girls supported me so much when I was planning to go on the trip—emotionally and financially. Jocelyn did this from France. I'm sorry I didn't get to see her before I left for Honduras but I look forward to our reunion in August. Jocelyn not only supported me financially on the trip herself but made it a family affair by inviting her fantastic mother to do the same. So, special thanks to the Frelier family. Rachel and I didn't have the Atlantic Ocean separating us but she still made as good an effort to be supportive of me throughout the semester. Not only did she help prepare me for the Honduras trip but she also made my 2 English classes with her the best classes of my semester. Thanks to both of you and I can't wait to see you in the Fall.
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