The Dried Grass Post

I have to admit, out of the five schools that we volunteer with, that El Encinal is my favorite. The teacher, the students, and the aesthetics of the setting all combine to make it stand out. Cristina, the teacher, is in her late twenties, but (when she’s only talking to us) likes to act like a teenager. I knew she was unique when she asked my compañera, Sarah, to teach her all of the “bad” words in English (to Sarah’s credit, she declined). For proof of Cristina’s fun-loving personality here's a picture of her and Sarah from yesterday.

On Tuesday, the “cipotes” (kids) of El Encinal were preparing for the “Día de Lempira” (Lempira Day) celebration coming up on Friday. We provided the performance material; Sarah used her free time to write a short play about Cambio Climático (Climate Change) and Cristina wanted her students to perform it. Furthermore, Sarah and Rebecca wrote a song to sing at the end of the play. I was skeptical about the entertainment or educational value of the play and song but I was proven wrong on Tuesday. Teaching the song was some of the most fun I’ve had teaching in Honduras. I’ve gathered in the past 6 weeks that songs are a much bigger part of the primary school curriculum here than they are in the United States. I imagine it’s because songs are easier for these students to remember. Trust me, when teachers have to work with six different grades and about 30 different learning styles in one classroom they can use all the teaching shortcuts imaginable. I also enjoyed El Encinal on Tuesday because the “varónes” (boys) and I practiced walking on our hands together. I won’t claim to be able to go more than 3 steps but here’s a picture of my effort.

Three of the schools we work with have been preparing all week for this Día de Lempira celebration. Lempira is the Honduran equivalent (at least by some measures, and I’m not inviting anyone to quote me on this) of George Washington. He can be found on the 1 lempira bill and is a famous native hero who led the fight for Honduran independence from Spain. Thursday morning was spent helping to set up the stage for the performances and was notable for three reasons. Most importantly, I discovered that dried grass must have been extremely important to Honduran native people because that was our Main Decorating Material. Secondly, the teachers didn’t have a Plan B if it rained before the celebration. Noticing how fragile and unprotected the decorations seemed to be, I asked a teacher what would happen if it rained. Her answer—“Se destrozado” (Everything will be destroyed). Not knowing how to respond, I took a break from hanging dried grass to survey our work. I’m not sure what effect the set designers were going for (other than, perhaps, something that would stand up) but it struck me that the stage would be constructed so as most people in attendance couldn’t see what was happening.

Then, today, it happened. All the preparation—the awkward stage construction, the bags and bags of dried grass, and a climate change play complete with song—culminated, like many other Honduran culminations I’ve experienced, with a wait. The 9 am program finally started with a parade of the students in their native costumes at 10:30. Seeing the students dressed up as “indios” (Indians) and “caballeros” (a cross between gentleman and cowboy) was my biggest surprise of the morning. I knew that plays, dances, and dried grass were all involved but no one told me costumes were included too! Here are the “indios” from the primary school at Aguablanca:

The celebration ended with the performance of the climate change play and song. It didn’t really fit in with the whole spirit of the event but neither did the kindergartener’s performances of Ole McDonald Had a Farm and the Hokey Pokey. After getting back to San Isidro we held a “Día de Limpia” (Trash Clean-Up Day), and that meshed nicely with the climate change play. It took 25 kids about 30 minutes to fill all of our collected plastic shopping bags with trash from the streets and around the school. Here are the students (hopefully) realizing that litter doesn’t pay when the gringos make you pick it up and entice you with candy.

One last note before the shout-outs—we had a productive and exciting scheduling meeting with Marvin on Tuesday night. This weekend should be one of the coolest yet. Tomorrow, if all goes as planned and it certainly may not, we will be traveling to the Pacific Coast, taking a ferry, and relaxing on the pristine beach of an undeveloped island. If this works out it will be my first ever trip to the Pacific Ocean. This week’s shout-out victims are two of my favorite professors at UNC who both made this trip possible with financial contributions. Dr. Maisch donated, and also taught me Spanish for the past two semesters. So, he made this trip possible on a number of levels. Dr. Richards, in addition to donating, taught my sophomore seminar on American poetry last semester and unintentionally provided me with summer reading because I brought our textbooks from that class with me. Thanks to both of you and I look forward to seeing you at UNC in the fall.