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.

Highlights

Top moments of the past 24 hours...

1) I found a pineapple under the kitchen sink. Why was there a pineapple under the kitchen sink? Shut up and don't look a gift horse in the mouth. 

2) There is half a block of American cheese in the refrigerator and 2 cans of Minestrone soup in the cupboard. I should point out that American cheese is not exactly abundant here. Again, I thank the proverbial gift horse and don't ask questions. I've been celebrating by eating soup and grilled cheese for dinner these past 2 nights. 

3) I inadvertently drank 1.5 liters of what I assumed was purified water, only to find out it was untouched local tap water. It's a testament to my stomach and my will that I've felt no ill effects. 

4) I (once again) scoured the upstairs with a kitchen knife in hand, convinced there was a predator slamming doors. As always, it's just me and the bats. They're growing bolder by the day.

In case there was any doubt in my mind, I live in Honduras.

60% Honduran

Team 6 has come and gone. They definitely brought the rainy season with them, I’m sitting here now listening to a torrential downpour that started yesterday afternoon and has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

I was doing the normal translating thing for the clinic last week. Being with this team was really different from being with the last, in that I felt more comfortable with Honduras itself.  Since I actually knew the Hondurans who went along (nurses and translators) I ended up eating and hanging out with them a good bit when we were on site.  I sometimes felt like I was in limbo between cultures. This is the first time I can remember ever feeling more comfortable around Spanish speakers than English speakers. It’s a nice place to be as far as language skills go since it definitely allows me to broaden my friend base. I can’t help but think that if I were to stay here for another month and if I lived closer to town, I could really feel at home here. Sharon, the nurse practitioner from the States who came with the May and June teams, laughed at me because I’ve picked up Honduran body language and “sounds”. Maybe I’m having an identity crisis? The translators told me I couldn't be full Honduran yet, though, because I still panic too much when trucks go speeding around mountain roads. 

That said, there are definitely things I miss about the States. I’m not ready to go yet, but when I do leave (in less than 2 weeks, mind you) I’ll be glad to get back to running, cooking, eating granola and yogurt, and driving.

Friday night I got to meet my old roommate Fran’s aunt, uncle and dad at the hotel where their mission team is staying. That was really nice and I actually ended up going with their organization’s dental team to translate on Saturday. I have no desire to go into dentistry but it was a nice change of pace. I got to set up lidocaine shots, take bloody teeth from the dentist and lie to anxious patients about the shot being the worst part. I’ve had enough teeth pulled to know that the shot is only the beginning of the pain. 3 of the translators who were with us all week last week were out with this team, so it was nice getting to see them for another day.

People keep being insanely nice to me. One of the cooks, Arlin, gave me a coffee mug with the Honduras national soccer team logo on it because she said I was special to her and her granddaughter. Rafael, one of the translators, said he’s going to carve me something for free (he sells wood carvings to supplement his income). And, Melvin the bearded said his daughters want to invite me to spend the night this Saturday. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this kindness but I’ll keep reeling it in. 

Reality check

I got in trouble at work today. Yesterday I went to San Pedro with Elmer to grocery shop for the medical team that gets here tomorrow. Somehow lines got crossed and I, without thinking clearly, didn't ask Dr. Moncada or Melvin the boss for permission to leave. I got a completely justifiable slap on the wrist for that one. There's my confession for the day. I feel like a scolded child. 

That said, going to San Pedro was like a breath of fresh air. I'm getting moderately stir crazy from being more or less locked into the Foundation property after 4 p.m. and from living in the middle of nowhere. I can't help it, I love cities. I also love running, I'm genuinely looking forward to running a lot when I get back in July to make up for all the time I've lost here. And, San Pedro had magic grocery stores where they sell things like granola and yogurt and baker's chocolate. 

All selfish and whiny complaints aside, life is good here in Honduras. Esmeralda feeds me a delicious lunch every day and people give me fruit all the time. I have a beautiful mountain in my front yard and I continue to learn tons about NGO administration, international health care, Spanish and the art of tortilla making. We haven't had a legitimate earth quake in over a week and I am hopeful this trend will continue. As I get more comfortable here at the clinic, I'm getting better at seeing what needs to be done so I stay pretty busy most days. Today I spent nearly 5 hours creating a half sheet with information about preventing the H1N1 flu. It took 5 hours because I had to give 2 computers and 3 printers a serious talking to before anything would work right. I've been slowly teaching the staff here how to use email, which is always a trip. I'm halfway through, though, so we are definitely making progress! 

Next week there will be another medical team here. Initially I was going to go to Denia the nurse's house on Sunday instead of hanging out with the team, but Elmer came down sick today so I'll be going with Melvin the Bearded to pick the team up at the airport and hang out with them this weekend to act as translator if necessary. I can't complain too much, that means I get to eat lots of delicious food and see pretty things. 

My other big news for the week is that Dalila brought nail polish remover to work on Wednesday after she and I decided my feet were too disgusting to handle. 1 pedicure later, I no longer look like I live in the jungle and wander through yucca fields in my spare time.

Cereal box killer

One of the unfortunate side effects of chloroquine (my anti-malarial drug of choice) is it can give you very vivid, very unnerving dreams. I haven't slept well in a few nights because of said dreams. 2 nights ago I dreamed that I had to lock all my doors and windows and food cabinets because "the cereal box killer" was coming and if he got into my food and decided he didn't like what he tried, he'd kill me. In retrospect it's a little silly but I woke up in a cold sweat. I'm still figuring out if I was more bothered by someone killing me or by someone taking my food without asking.

Work this week was a mixture of extreme boredom and extreme busy-ness. I don't honestly remember what I did on Wednesday, it must have been very important. Thursday we didn't hold consultations at the clinic because Melvin the boss called an all staff meeting for the entire morning. That was actually more interesting than it sounds, partly because I got to drink lots of coffee and partly because I like seeing all the ins and outs of how this business runs. 

Thursday night I met another north American volunteer who's living down the road and we went into town together to run errands. We also went to her friend's pizza restaurant and (defying any and all health standards the USA might have ground into me) went into the kitchen and made our own calzones. You know you're in Honduras when... 

Today was busy at work. 1 of the nurses and her husband (who also works for the foundation) were gone, so I basically ended up doing both of their jobs. I rode with Melvin the Bearded to drop off a post-surgery patient in her village, then tracked down a new patient there to make sure the parents were still planning on bringing their kid to the foundation, then took pictures of 2 old patients to track their progress. This was by far the poorest village I've seen with regards to housing, people's health, children's shoes (or lack thereof), etc. The longer I'm here the more convinced I am that better infrastructure and better education are the 2 most basic and most important factors in improving lives. With infrastructure and education in place, people have a choice between remaining in poverty or working their way out. Without those two, the cycle probably won't break.

After Melvin and I got back, I spent about 2 hours working on Excel spreadsheets with patient and financial data from this week to email back to the office in the States. Not only did I work frantically all afternoon, I actually ended up working an hour overtime. Being a workaholic, that was satisfying. However, last semester I told Katie that my idea of hell included making Excel spreadsheets all day, and I stand by that statement. 

Finally, I went back over to Elmer's house for a couple of hours this evening. The highlight of the night came when we were leaving so his family could go to church and I could come home. After shutting the door, which locks automatically, we realized that no one had a key to the house or the car. No problem. Elmer took the screen off his bedroom window, jimmied open the window and slid his 4 year old son Emerson through the bars protecting the window so he could let us back in the house. Apparently, this had happened before. 

Now would also be a good time to point out that when Elmer needs to get into the bus he also jimmies open the driver's side window, hoists himself up and pulls the lever to open the main door from inside.

I live in the jungle

The first few nights here alone I would get pretty sketched out by mysterious banging and scratching noises coming from upstairs. After thoroughly checking out the situation (sharp butcher knife in hand) I decided the noises must come from the wind and let the matter rest. 

Tonight I went over to Elmer's house to walk with him and his family by the lake, then I ended up staying for dinner. When I got home after dark the noises upstairs were louder and more pronounced than usual. As I was deciding to go enlist the help of Leonidas (and, consequently, his handgun) I noticed that along with the banging, I could hear squeaking. I then remembered that 2 days ago when I went upstairs there were clusters of small, dark pieces on the floor that I assumed were insects. False. It was guano. Dear world, I share a house with a colony of bats.

Leonidas and Danilo confirmed this, and then spent 5 minutes making not-so-comforting jokes about how the bats are my roommates and how they sleep upside down so they can keep a better eye on me. Danilo, assuming I'd never seen a bat, told me it looked like a rat but with wings, so there was really no reason to worry.  I'm proud to come from the city with the largest urban bat colony in the United States, but that doesn't mean I'm ready and willing to sign a lease with a family of them.

However, interesting bat fact courtesy of Danilo. The Spanish word for bat is "murcielago", making it one of the few words that contain all 5 vowels in Spanish. This knowledge will certainly help me later in life. 

I am a cricket killing champion

Thursday night involved one of the strongest thunderstorms I’ve ever experienced and 2 after tremors. Dear mother nature, please slow your roll and let me get a good night’s sleep.

Friday morning I got to be in the consultation clinic with Denia the nurse and Bertha the American volunteer. Actually, Denia was out doing the books all morning so I worked with Bertha in patient intake. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her much so that was a nice change from working in the extended care office. We took patients’ money when they came (each person pays 50 lempiras, or about $2.75, for a consultation + any medications they need). I also weighed the patients if they were children. After they talked to Doctora Moncada, their files were sent back over to us and we labeled, explained and distributed meds.  Bertha also gave a guy a shot in the butt and explained to me how to do it. Here’s hoping I get promoted to assistant shot giver next week. I liked being more hands on in the primary care part of the clinic and, again, it was a nice break from looking at files and pills.

Friday afternoon everyone else was working on their month’s report and figuring out their plans for next month. Since I’ve only been here a week and I don’t actually work here I didn’t have much to do. I managed to find some more pills to organize, and I tracked down some crayons so we can get extended care patients to draw pictures for us to send back to the foundation office in the States, and then I bothered everyone else while they were working. Finally, I think more to shut me up than anything, Danilo the groundskeeper gave me a fresh cut stalk of sugar cane and told me to chew on it. So that kept me busy for a good 45 minutes. I’ll be 22 in a month and I’m still placated by sweets. Before they left Friday afternoon, Dra Moncada and her husband gifted me a bunch of bananas and a pineapple. I’m a simple girl.

Everyone here has been so kind and so concerned about me being too lonely but so far that’s never been a problem. Today I went to Esmeralda’s house (she works here, cleaning and cooking etc) for lunch with her, her 3 daughters, son in law, friend/I’m not sure who he was, and 2 really adorable grandsons (Isaac and Jose).  They’re also concerned about my safety and although it does suck to be on lockdown in the compound in the afternoons and evenings, it’s probably for the best. When Esmeralda came to pick me up she brought her random friend, who brought his machete, because she said we had to walk down some “risky” roads.  Keep feeding me sugar cane and fresh pineapple and I’ll do whatever you say.

Just over a month to go, and I like it here more each day. 

Hooray bureaucracy

Also, a big shout out to the American Embassy for sending out an email at 5:26 p.m. confirming that an earthquake had indeed struck at 2:30 a.m. 

Either Jesus is coming back, or an earthquake just hit

Let me just say there are few things less pleasant than being shocked out of sleep at 2:45 a.m. because your entire world is shaking uncontrollably.

Long story short: a 7.1 magnitude earthquake hit off the shore of Honduras about 200 miles from the capital city Tegucigalpa at 2:24. By the way, all the news reports keep saying it happened at 3:24 but they´re not taking into account that Honduras doesn´t follow daylight savings time, so by local clocks it was 2:24. CNN says that half an hour later a 4.8 aftershock hit 155 miles north of Tegus, which is about where I am so I guess that´s about what I felt. The house I´m in is really stable so the whole thing shook but there´s no structural damage. Driving out in the country today we saw a few downed houses and some giant boulders that were pushed onto the road by landslides. There´s an insane picture on CNN of a bridge in Progreso (where I was on Tuesday) that was completely cut in half. Here in the immediate area, though, the damage seems to be minimal. Apparently there was small aftershock again at noon today (I was out in the communities with Dalila the nurse and Melvin the bearded so I missed that) and one might come tonight around 7, but they lifted the tsunami warning for Honduras so I think we´re past the worst.

At the staff meeting this morning we had the usual "where were you when..." talk. For the record, I was asleep in bed, duh. I woke up really groggy and (stupidly) tried to walk around the house rather than staying put under something semi-stable. I don´t remember much about how it felt, just that my heart almost jumped out of my throat and it sounded like a herd of angry horses were charging the house. I also made myself a sandwich once the quake stopped because I decided that if I was going to die, I wanted to go on a full stomach. I caught some grief from the night watchman for that this morning and for the rest of the day the clinic staff made jokes about my coping mechanisms. Don´t take disaster advice from me. After it subsided I stood outside with 2 other North American men who were staying for about an hour here in case a bad aftershock hit, then we drove into town to check on a friend.

News websites have better information that I do, probably, but the gist is I´m fine and everyone I know here is fine. In case of emergency, eat a sandwich.

Interning from A-Z

I think that when people find out I’m interning in Honduras with a medical clinic, they often assume I do really awesome things like perform brain surgery on babies or chase monkeys through the rainforest. Today, I alphabetized patient files for 4 hours. The only upside to filing in Honduras is you can take a break to go bother the men sowing plantain roots in the field down the hill. Let’s be honest, an intern’s life is a glamorous one, no matter what country you’re in.

Besides the great file-fest 2009, I’ve gotten to see a lot more of how the extended care aspect of the foundation works. When North American teams come down they refer kids from clinics to extended care for things like heart problems, club feet, cleft palates, eye problems, etc. I spent most of Monday working with Pascuala the nurse, helping her organize patient referrals from the last round of mountain clinics. Tuesday I went with Pascuala and Elmer (the foundation’s bus driver) to a city called El Progreso, where we met with 11 kids and their guardians who had been referred for extended eye care. I never really understood how easy we have it in the States between computerized medical records and a high adult literacy rate. Suffice to say everything is done by hand, explaining the concept of “every 2 hours” to a grown man with only a 3^rd grade education takes some creative thinking and I can’t imagine anyone from home walking 12 hours one way to get their kid in to see the ophthalmologist. By the way, that word is a whole lot easier to spell in Spanish (oftamologo).

In all seriousness, I really like it here. I have a great set up at the house, this place is beautiful and everyone working at the clinic is so nice. Pascuala already invited me to her house on Sunday (although I think that’s because she wants help figuring out how her internet works), and Esmerelda, the woman who cooks, told me I could come over next weekend and learn how to make tamales.  North Americans and Hondurans keep asking me if I get lonely around here but so far the answer is no because a) it’s only been like 4 days of being alone, b) I go to bed by 10 every night anyhow, and c) there is usually a steady stream of people in and around at least until 6 when it gets dark.

And also, if I’m ever bored, I can just eat a mango.

I have to learn to make tortillas

A week in Honduras has already come and gone. There’s a bug attacking my computer screen and that makes me angry.

 

I got here last week along with a medical team from the States, so I chose not to update this while they were here since that would be unfair commandeering of the computer. Not that we had tons of spare time, anyhow. Essentially Monday-Friday we were out doing clinics from about 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Long story short, we saw over 2000 people throughout the week and were able to refer somewhere around 20 kids to the clinic here for extended care. Children who qualify for extended care have conditions like heart murmurs, extremely high blood pressures (we found one with a BP of 240/140) or birth defects. I was translating for one of the nurses (each of the 4 nurses had a translator with them) and by the end of every day I was exhausted from seeing so many people and switching back and forth so fast between English and Spanish. By Friday, though, I had the system pretty well down so I should be ready for the next team to come in 3 weeks.

 

We did get to do some cool stuff on Sunday and Saturday (our off days). The first Sunday we went on a short hike to the top of a mountain with a beautiful overlook of the lake. Yesterday (Saturday) we got to tour a zinc/lead/silver mine nearby (pictures of me in coveralls are floating around somewhere) and we went to a national park with a gorgeous waterfall and a zipline. The villages we visited to do the clinics in were beautiful, too. The part of Honduras I’m in is (I think) temperate rainforest so everything is so green and lovely. The kinds of flowers we beg to grow in the States pop up like weeds here. It’s pretty amazing. The house I’m living in has a great view of the mountains, too, even when they are covered in thunderclouds or mist.

 

Today I went with Elmer the bus driver to San Pedro Sula to drop the team off at the airport. I spent the rest of the afternoon/evening getting myself situated in my new bedroom, getting some schoolwork done (yes, all this rainforest trekking is part of my Clemson internship) and making friends with the vigilantes (guards). Since it’s Sunday it’s just me and one of them on the property. I spent a good half hour talking to the afternoon guy, mostly about how young people these days have no respect and how they don’t go about dating in the right way (he’s from the old school where a couple could spend 2-3 hours together each Saturday under proper supervision. But he was really shocked when I told him my parents waited until they were married to have me…?) I met the night guard when I was experimenting with my keys and locked myself out of the house, forcing me to ask him for help. I think he thinks I’m really clueless about life in general, because he then explained to me very slowly that I need to lock the front door and the side door at night to be safe. Also, his name is Leonidas and we are going to be best friends, even if he doesn’t know it yet. 

 

Even though it’s only 8:15, I’m going to bed soon because a) I have to be up at 6 for work at the clinic and b) that’s how I roll here in the mountains of Honduras. Since it’s just me in the house I like to sit on the front porch in the evening and pretend that I’m master of all I survey. Then I lock myself out of the house and remember that I’m just a stupid north American girl who somehow landed in Pena Blanca, Honduras.

Honduras (again)

I went to enter a title for this post, and before I could type anything my computer suggested "i love amanda lewicki". Who has been using my computer and who is amanda lewicki?

Last time I was in Honduras I swore I wouldn't be back. Actually, last time I was in Central America (last summer) I swore I was done for awhile with this part of the world in general. However, Clemson University requires that I complete an internship before I can have my diploma, and all other doors were shut in my face. So, May 16-July 3, I will be living in Peña Blanca, Honduras, working/volunteering with a clinic run by the Friends of Barnabas Foundation and fulfilling my required 180 hour internship. My understanding is that I will be translating for visiting medical teams, working around the clinic, helping with basic computer training for the clinic staff, etc. Truthfully, I'm not sure what my work will entail. If nothing else, I hope I'm kept busy. 2008 was a slow and often lonely summer, and I would love to experience the direct opposite this year. 

Central America can be rough, as is any extended stay in a place that is culturally and geographically far from home and good friends. I expect nothing less than for it to backhand me across the face and yell "Welcome back, sucker!" in my ear upon arrival. Hopefully, though, my skin will be thick enough that I can respond with a heartfelt "Glad to be back!" and a well placed uppercut. It's by no means a hate-hate relationship or even a love-hate relationship. Central America just offers its own special brand of tough love. In case I sound too cynical, though, I am glad to be going and thankful for this opportunity to learn.

And, for the record, I still think the idea of me blogging is pretentious and a little nauseating.