This is the end, my friend

Honduras is sending me off in style, with one final megastorm. I’m just waiting for lightning to strike the house or for a tornado to hit. Either one would really be the perfect finish to this rollercoaster of a summer.

Currently, I’m in the middle of packing. I almost have everything situated and my bag is only slightly heavier than when I arrived. That’s a lie, both of my bags are stuffed with things I’ve accumulated over the last 7 weeks. Pascuala and Dalila asked me at work on Monday if, in the States, do I ever put on a dress and wear my hair down and make myself look pretty? I think that’s a pretty good indicator that it’s time for me to go home and take a long shower.  On the other hand, Elmer’s 9 year old daughter Karen asked me tonight if I was a model since she couldn’t think of any other reason why I should be so tall.

Things I will miss about Honduras:

1) The fact that Esmeralda (the cook) knows all of 2 words in English, but she uses them as often as possible.  Incidentally, they happen to be 2 of my favorite words: coffee and lunch.

2) Hair-raising car rides.

3) Speaking Spanglish with Jose and Elmer.

4) Freshly picked mangos, pineapple, bananas and plantains.

5) Following the political situation from the inside.

6) Thunderstorms.

7) Pascuala’s back rubs.

8) Morning coffee (and midday coffee, and afternoon coffee…)

9) Playing soccer with Elmer’s kids.

10) The way everything feels, tastes and looks so vivid.

Things I will not miss about Honduras:

1) Forever being the tallest person in the room.

2) Hair-raising car rides.

3) Knowing that an earthquake, a lightning storm, or a persistent and hungry cow will wake me up tonight.

Tomorrow afternoon I will go with Melvin Flores to San Pedro Sula to spend the night with his family there before I fly out at 7 a.m. on Friday. I feel good about our chances of getting past protests, roadblocks and curfews, especially since ex-pres Mel has decided to delay his triumphant (?) return to Honduras until Saturday.  I still don’t have specific plans for my life once I return, nor do I have specific plans for coming back here. I hope I’ll be back, though, because somewhere between May 16 and July 1, this became home.

Finally, as I’ve adhered to a strict eating regimen that involved stuffing as much tortillas, beans and sugar cane down my throat as humanly possible, Operation Run Off Honduras begins asap. It was worth it.

Once you pop, the fun don't stop

It would be awesome if the international press would stop referring to what's happening here as a military takeover or "coup d'etat". Mel was acting out against orders from Congress and the Supreme Court, so they were within their constitutional right to ship him out. Additionally, he was spending obscene amounts of federal funds on his own campaign for la cuarta una, rather than fixing issues like extreme poverty, damaged roads or a rising drug trade. Obama initially said that Mel was the rightful president of Honduras, but even he seems to be backpeddling now with his newest statement that Honduras should take care of its own problems without foreign interference.  Hugo Chavez is making noise about invading Honduras if Mel isn't reinstated, but really Hugo, what are you going to do with a country the size of Kentucky whose only real assets are coffee, bananas and pretty beaches? As expected, protests and roadblocks are on the rise (don't worry, Mom and Dad, my travel plans don't look like they'll be affected). Mel says he's coming home on Thursday, but there's a warrant out for his arrest if he sets foot back in the country.  Overall, this is a fascinating train wreck. 

They had a going away party for me and Bertha at the clinic today. Delicious lunch, cake, coffee, presents, a few tears... The really big news from work, though, is that the roof blew off this evening. How does a corrugated metal roof just up and blow off? Ask whoever did the shoddy construction job. It was raining at the time too, but fortunately the power went out so Jose and I were able to wade through a half inch of water and unplug lights, refrigerators, microwaves, etc. We, along with the doctor, her husband, their 2 daughters, 2 of their employees, Melvin the Bearded and Danilo, then spent the next 3 hours moving files, medicines and instruments into a dry space.  They managed to get plastic to cover the 50 ft by 40 ft hole in the roof.  I also made  a point to find the leftover cake in the unplugged refrigerator and, in the interest of not wasting food, enlisted the help of the doctor's daughters to pass out slices to everyone. Tomorrow, obviously, there will be no consultations. 

Tomorrow is my last full day of work. I emailed my final reflection to the foundation tonight, Dra Moncada has already filled out my final evaluation and I've logged well over the required 180 hours. I have mixed feelings about leaving and I've been compiling a mental list of things I'll miss. Right now, though, I'm mostly just tired from battling the elements. 

Revolution...?

In case you were busy keeping tabs on Michael Jackson and Billy Mays' autopsies and missed what's happening in Honduras...

Up until Sunday, the president of Honduras was Manuel Zelaya, aka Mel. The Honduran constitution states that the president can only serve for one 4-year term. Mel, who by the way is good buddies with Raul Castro and Hugo Chavez, decided to go for broke and asked the people to vote on "la cuarta una", a referendum which would allow him to run for a second term (and, hypothetically, spread the feared communism to his country). The majority of the country seemed opposed to this, but everyone was pretty sure he would rig the vote. Sunday, June 28, was meant to be the day when the people would be polled as to whether or not la cuarta una should appear on the ballot in November to be voted on then. Congress declared the vote unconstitutional, Mel's head general refused to support the referendum and was fired, and Mel stated that he would go ahead with the vote. Mel, you and what army?

Cut to Sunday morning, when Mel's presidential palace is stormed by the Honduran army who, under orders from Congress, took Mel away in his pajamas. There were a few hours when no one really knew where Mel was, until he turned up in Costa Rica, still in his pajamas. Embarrassing, yes, but if you're going to be exiled there are worse places to go. Mel then spent the day desperately calling in back-up in the form of powerful left-wing presidents from all across the Americas. All this while still in his pajamas. That never gets old. By the afternoon, Congress had sworn in Micheletti, the speaker of the House and the constitutional second in line for the presidency, as the new president. At this point, the country let out a collective, "Huh?"

The majority of world leaders, Obama included, are condemning this as a coup d'etat and are encouraging Honduras to re-accept Mel as president. Said leaders are also refusing to recognize Micheletti as the president of Honduras, leaving us here effectively without a leader. The thing is, I'm not so sure the army or Congress did anything wrong. Mel was acting in a way they deemed unconstitutional, and rather than leaving the country under military rule they immediately swore in the rightful 2nd in line. The whole pj's thing may have been a bit much, I'll admit. The only action that Micheletti has taken that could really be considered "military" is imposing a nationwide curfew from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. for the next 48 hours.  Additionally, the vast majority of Hondurans seem really ok with Micheletti as their president and would rather Mel return. Plus, things will be really awkward between the 2 of them if Mel takes back the reins. The protests in Tegus (capital) and San Pedro (other big city) started small, but since Mel announced today that he plans to return to Honduras on Thursday I'd imagine that protests are going to grow as his few supporters face off against the majority who wanted him out in the first place. The fact is, though, that 70% of the country lives in poverty, which means 70% of the country is too busy trying to feed their children to worry about something trivial like the president being exiled.

Adding to the political fustercluck, Congress received a letter yesterday afternoon which was supposedly postmarked from Thursday and supposedly written in Mel's hand, bearing his stamp and signature, announcing he was resigning from the presidency. Mel is denying he ever wrote such a thing. Hugo Chavez is irritated and is threatening to cut off Honduras' Venezuelan oil supply, which would not be a good thing. Raul Castro is encouraging Obama to make good on his verbal condemnation of the situation with actions. From where I'm sitting, the whole mess looks like a playground rivalry. And maybe sometimes the teachers need to turn a blind eye while the kids take care of the bully their own way. That's just my opinion, though. 

So far I should be able to fly out on Friday, unless the airports decide to close. As of right now, I'm obeying the American Embassy's instructions and avoiding large demonstrations and roadblocks. Which isn't too difficult, considering the only way I'll be anywhere near a demonstration is if the cows start picketing. 

Initiate countdown

1 week from today, I will be back in Texas. This is my last weekend in Honduras, so I'll probably throw a raging farewell party tomorrow night. There's a good chance I will be the only one in attendance.

The powers that be must have decided that I had my fill of excitement Tuesday night with the bat incident, because the last 3 days have been more boring that I ever thought possible. I've been asked to create Excel spreadsheets to organize all the patient data from the extended care program. There are over 400 patients. Multiply that by the time I spend trying to figure out how to spell their names and add the time I waste decoding the doctor's scribble, and my work is cut out for me. At this point I'm about halfway through and I'm hoping I finish before I leave or else this may never really get done. I will say, though, that I have never looked forward to my lunch break so much. Like I told my dad, nothing makes me want to flee the country faster than 7 hours in front of Excel. 

Besides that, I need to write 2 articles for the foundation, finish an informational sheet on scabies (delicious...), work with the doctor on researching medications online, take pictures of all the staff, finish teaching 3 staff members how to email and attend an all-staff meeting all day Tuesday. No big deal, I have 3 1/2 days left of work. 

By far my favorite part of this week was Wednesday, when I went with Elmer and his family to the soccer field by their house. While Elmer played a pick up game of soccer, I walked/ran the perimeter with his wife and the 14 year old girl who helps around their house (and is also, I should point out, 3 months pregnant). It was really a perfect Honduras moment: soccer, palm trees, a rainbow, little kids drinking water out of plastic bags, a man in a mesh shirt offering to steal me away and make me his bride, and a girl on a bicycle hitting me up for 5 pesos. I went back today and ran for 40 minutes by myself, which also felt amazing. 

On a different note, the Honduran president Mel decided to get rid of his head general on Wednesday and was pushing for a referendum called "la cuarta una" which would give him the right to run for office again (Chavez, anyone?). Fortunately, congress blocked that move but the country is still on edge especially since he's refusing to reinstate any of the military leaders who recently resigned or were fired. Iran is in a state of extreme "unrest", the USA is shipping weapons to Somalia, China is pushing to replace the US dollar as the world's reserve currency and they've identified the pilot's body from the Air France plane that went down last month. Still, What's the top news story on every major network? Michael Jackson's autopsy. 

Estrogen? Check.

Up until the age of 10, my dream in life was to be an entomologist. I didn't actually want to study bugs, I just wanted to play with them all day. In the 4th grade I kept a dead fish in my zip-up binder for a week because I wanted to show my science teacher its air bladder. Even now I pride myself on not being one of "those girls" who freaks every time a cockroach makes its way across the floor.  What happened tonight, then, is a little shameful...

Today was a long day in San Pedro with Elmer, Pascuala, and 9 children + parents (2 of whom, I should point out, yakked during the car ride). When we finally got home around 5:30, I ate the leftovers from my lunch at an incredibly swanky Pizza Hut restaurant in San Pedro for dinner, read a book and then proceeded to quietly and peacefully check my email. I took a break from skype chatting with Holly to kill a baseball-sized beetle, then prepared to shower. As I was signing off, I noticed that the bats were squeaking louder than usual tonight. Actually, it sounded like one bat very near me was becoming more upset by the moment. I happened to glance back at the front door (which was open with only the screen door shut) and there, 6 feet from where I sat, was a bat. A half-grown, angry, blind, squeaking bat. 

Not being one for hysterics, I calmly leaned across, pushed open the screen door and encouraged the bat to exit the building. However, he was so freaked out and strangely flightless that he could only scuttle menacingly across the floor, threatening to enter my home and presumably throw a bat-rave in my dining room. I couldn't stand for that so I slammed the door in his face, squeezing him between the screen door and the solid door. I then returned with a broom and cracked open both doors in a final calm attempt to sweep him out the door. No luck. He panicked and crawled the opposite direction. I, in turn, started letting out what would become a series of screams so high pitched I assume only (ironically) bats could hear them. I decided the best course of action would be to sneak around via the side door and attack from the front porch. 

Broom in hand, I scampered outside and around the side of the house. Leonidas, who keeps watch from the side porch of the other house, heard me leave and was apparently waiting for me to walk up the sidewalk to talk to him. I, however, was already on the front porch, frantically sweeping the bat out of my doorway and down the side steps. Every time my broom touched it, the bat would move in the creepiest crawl I've ever seen, prompting me to scream a little louder and a little higher every time. Leo finally wandered over to see what the commotion was about and promptly wet his pants from laughing so hard. He came down and swept the bat onto the driveway. At this point a large beetle flew into my head and since I was already on red-alert, I did what any self-respecting  21 year old Texas girl who's traveled throughout Central America by herself, worked at summer camp since she was 13, and grown up handling garden snakes would do. I let out what can only be called a blood curdling scream. Danilo, hearing the noise, also wandered over and watched the action from the upstairs porch. 

Leo announced that he would have to kill the bat to prevent the spread of rabies. His options were to shoot it or step on it. He chose the cheaper, easier method and 5 seconds later, there were crushed bat brains on the driveway. As I stood there, wondering at this tiny creature's short life and feeling moderately guilty, something very large and very solid hit the ground in front of me. I shrieked, literally jumped out of my shoes, and made a quick break for the cars before I realized that Danilo (sweet, precious Danilo) had thrown his baseball cap down in front of me, hoping for that very reaction. I started laughing so hard I cried, or crying so hard I laughed, you decide. Danilo and Leonidas then sat around for 5 minutes and made jokes (mostly at my expense) about mother bats coming to avenge their young. 

I make no apologies for sleeping with multiple lights on tonight.