Since coming back from Copan and a conference full of 200 plus people who are beaming with passion about Honduras and the work they do here, my mind has been going at full speed with ideas and projects that I hope to maybe do. And so here is a little preview for what my year might be composed of.
1. Domestic Violence Support Group: Domestic violence is one of the biggest and least spoken about problems in Honduras. It is the number two killer of people after traffic accidents. And yet very little is done with the victims of these violent acts. In a culture that is dominated by machismo and in families where dads are often absent, the women many times take the full burden of caring for families and when they are abused have no way out. In Talanga, there is an office in the police station that handles cases of domestic violence. And the plan is that we will start a support group in January for female victims of violence. It will happen once a week and will be a devotional style meeting and will create a safe space for women to be with other women and share their stories. The hope is that these meetings will help the women to heal, but also to prevent them from going back to violent situations. It will be the first support group in Talanga.
2. Street Kid Youth Group: Walking down the street in Talanga, you pass by at least two or three children who have no shoes, holes in their shirts, and dirt everywhere. They might have a home, but often their parents are absent and they are being raised by an older sibling. Many are not in school and children as old as 9 still don’t know how to read. And so my hope is that I will start a group just for these kids. I want to call them the Turtles and teach them that everything they need they already have—just like turtles. I want to read with them, I want to teach them, and then I want to give them some food so that they don’t have to beg for it. This will probably be one of the hardest projects to do since they have very little discipline and seem to run wild all day. We will see how my first meeting goes this week on Thursday (11/1).
3. School Exchange: Talanga is better off than the aldeas. Just like any city compared to a rural setting, Talanga seems to have more resources, more jobs, and life seems a little easier here. The aldeas are a lot poorer. And here is my train of thought: I leave in a year and who are the future of this country? The kids. I leave this country in a year in the hands of the kids and so these are the people that need to know about what life is like in the poorer areas of Honduras. And so my idea is to have a pen pal/ switcheroo between the children of a class in Talanga and a class in an aldea. It would start with an exchange of letters and photos and then depending on how successful it could result in them each spending a day with the other in their respective schools and maybe even overnight…but that might be getting a little crazy.
4. Craft lessons to Women: Most of the women in all of the aldeas we have visited do not have jobs. Their job is to stay at home, clean, and cook. For many, they have no income of their own and no way of earning an income. At the conference, I met a lady who had taught a large group of women how to do origami and then they turned this into jewelry. And so I am in the process of teaching myself origami and then I am looking to work with a group of women in maybe one or two aldeas to teach them this craft so that they then can start making goods to sell.
At this point, these are all just dreams some further along than others. I still have to talk to a lot of people in the community and so we will just have to see whether any of these become a reality or not.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Accompaniment
Our mission here is to accompany the people. Everything that the Passionist Volunteers stand for is accompaniment, but I’m not sure I really understand it. Accompaniment is spending time with the people, ‘walking with the crucified of today’ (if you want to use the Passionist jargon) and I understand this. We spend a lot of time just talking and hanging out. So much so that sometimes I wonder what we are doing. We go to the Casa and chat and tell stories with the internos. We go to meetings of representatives who have bible studies once or twice a week. We visit house after house after house just catching from week to week. And so yes, I guess we accompany—but we have been told that our program is not a project based program. And so here is my question, when does accompaniment start sharing the stage with projects?
Accompaniment by itself in our program is confusing to me. If we spend the year accompanying and develop the greatest friendships with these people and then we leave, what we have accomplished? Have we simply developed a wonderful friendship that must end with our departure? Or even if we have showed them that there is someone out there who cares, then we leave. So what does accompaniment by itself do? Now don’t get me wrong, I am a huge supported of accompaniment. I do not want to be the white Westerner who comes in and tells the people of Talanga what they need. No, that is not why I came here. But our program says that we must accompany first and then start projects from the needs that we have discovered in our relationships with people. It makes sense, but practically it’s a little different. When we go to aldeas and we say we are simply there to spend time with them or make friends with them, they look at us a little strange. Gringos only come to these lands if they are here to do something—aka build a school, go on a medical brigade and so forth. (Side note: There is nothing wrong with these things and they are desperately needed in many of these communities.) And so there we are the gringos offering friendship and understanding…or at least trying to.
And so we walk with the crucified, the poor, the sick of today. Yes, it sounds so saintly—but hardly. Will I ever be able to feel the suffering or truly walk side by side in the sufferings of someone who has AIDS? Will I ever be able to understand what it means to live in one bedroom, one kitchen home with three kids and two parents far away from civilization? Will I ever be able to feel the pain of the women who I visit on my sick visits? I wish I could say yes, but I don’t know whether in all honesty I will ever be able to. I can try—and I do, I try to put myself in their shoes but its hard when I know that though I might struggle, I will be home in a year to comfort and wealth. William Carlos Williams once said, “I try to put myself in the shoes of others. We’re completely lost in our own world—egoists! Or maybe we’re locked into ourselves, and even though we want to break out, we can’t seem to do it. It takes someone else to help us, a person who breaks in or has a way of letting us out. Or we stumble into some moment, some situation, that wakes us up, gets us enough off track to open up our eyes, our ears, our musty minds.” Maybe I am still waiting for my stumble.
And then my third question is if we are walking with the crucified of today, when do we stop and help them carry their cross? If any of my family were in the situations that half of the people we work with are in, I would drop everything to help them, to carry their cross. And so when do we do that with the people we meet? And can we carry the cross for the hundreds of people we will work with and have been working with? You can only see someone suffer for so long and become friends with them or accompanying them just makes that problem even more acute. And so this is my obstacle. I have accompanied and now I want to do. I want to stop watching and walking with the suffering, and instead work with the suffering to empower them. Have I reached the point where I understand their sufferings? I don’t think so and I don’t think I ever will, but maybe my stumble will come.
Accompaniment by itself in our program is confusing to me. If we spend the year accompanying and develop the greatest friendships with these people and then we leave, what we have accomplished? Have we simply developed a wonderful friendship that must end with our departure? Or even if we have showed them that there is someone out there who cares, then we leave. So what does accompaniment by itself do? Now don’t get me wrong, I am a huge supported of accompaniment. I do not want to be the white Westerner who comes in and tells the people of Talanga what they need. No, that is not why I came here. But our program says that we must accompany first and then start projects from the needs that we have discovered in our relationships with people. It makes sense, but practically it’s a little different. When we go to aldeas and we say we are simply there to spend time with them or make friends with them, they look at us a little strange. Gringos only come to these lands if they are here to do something—aka build a school, go on a medical brigade and so forth. (Side note: There is nothing wrong with these things and they are desperately needed in many of these communities.) And so there we are the gringos offering friendship and understanding…or at least trying to.
And so we walk with the crucified, the poor, the sick of today. Yes, it sounds so saintly—but hardly. Will I ever be able to feel the suffering or truly walk side by side in the sufferings of someone who has AIDS? Will I ever be able to understand what it means to live in one bedroom, one kitchen home with three kids and two parents far away from civilization? Will I ever be able to feel the pain of the women who I visit on my sick visits? I wish I could say yes, but I don’t know whether in all honesty I will ever be able to. I can try—and I do, I try to put myself in their shoes but its hard when I know that though I might struggle, I will be home in a year to comfort and wealth. William Carlos Williams once said, “I try to put myself in the shoes of others. We’re completely lost in our own world—egoists! Or maybe we’re locked into ourselves, and even though we want to break out, we can’t seem to do it. It takes someone else to help us, a person who breaks in or has a way of letting us out. Or we stumble into some moment, some situation, that wakes us up, gets us enough off track to open up our eyes, our ears, our musty minds.” Maybe I am still waiting for my stumble.
And then my third question is if we are walking with the crucified of today, when do we stop and help them carry their cross? If any of my family were in the situations that half of the people we work with are in, I would drop everything to help them, to carry their cross. And so when do we do that with the people we meet? And can we carry the cross for the hundreds of people we will work with and have been working with? You can only see someone suffer for so long and become friends with them or accompanying them just makes that problem even more acute. And so this is my obstacle. I have accompanied and now I want to do. I want to stop watching and walking with the suffering, and instead work with the suffering to empower them. Have I reached the point where I understand their sufferings? I don’t think so and I don’t think I ever will, but maybe my stumble will come.
One of my favorites
I want you to meet Gladys. Gladys is an interno at the Casa Pasionista and the past two weeks I have visited the Casa, she has not been there. Instead, she has been in Tegucigalpa for surgery and then recovery, but her story does not start nor end here. And in all honesty I do not know her story, but I can tell what I have shared with her and what she has shared with me so far.
Gladys is a little lady. She is shorter than me, but seems to be even smaller in the way that she carries herself. The bottom half of her face and neck are badly scarred from a fire where she tried to take her life. She is quiet and shy and will only talk if spoken to. She is gentle and for many, I think, it would be easy to forget her presence.
The first day we visited the Casa, I don’t remember talking to her—I don’t remember talking to anyone because at that point my Spanish was, well, non-existent and my confidence at zero. But, as we were leaving, she took my hand and asked me when we were coming back, I didn’t know so I said that and then Amy told me the word for soon and I realized the potentiality of what could become of our relationships with the internos. In the next handful of visits, I may have spoken to her once or twice, but the easily more extroverted and dominant characters in the Casa overshadowed her. But, then Tyler and I went to the Casa a little over a month ago. After eating with them, Tyler went to the bridge to help the guys with some repair maintenance and I went into the TV room to watch the soap operas with the ladies. Well, one lady Danylla left after about 15 minutes to go see her children and then it was me and Gladys. We chatted a little about the soap and then another one started and she made it clear she didn’t like it. (It’s called The Clone—and its as cheesy as it sounds). I didn’t know what to do—I didn’t know what to talk about and I didn’t want her to think that I didn’t care. Thank God, I had decided to bring some photos of all of you guys and so I asked if she wanted to see them. This started a 45 minute conversation. Despite language barriers and lives full of very different experiences, we became friends in the conversation. I shared with her the stories of college friends and she shared with me photos of excursions to the local restaurant. She showed me pictures of her three children (two of who live at the orphanage) and I showed her pictures of my family. In that 45 minutes, though we came from different countries and with different lives, our lives came together and a friendship was formed.
Her father was very sick and had to go to the hospital for a stomach ulcer. He needed surgery, but had to wait because he didn’t have enough money. She was worried and didn’t have a way to get to Tegus apart from if Puri took her. Her father is still very sick and her family doesn’t have the money to help him. Gladys was in the hospital for reconstructive surgery for her face and neck, but the day of the surgery she had to leave because there were no beds available. This is in the main hospital in Tegucigalpa—one of the largest in the country.
I like her. I like that she is quiet and has a slightly Eeyore-like personality. I like that when I’m at the Casa and I see her, I feel a sense of calm, of companionship. She has been there for years and years and there is something intriguing and warming about her. I like her and I think she might like me and I look forward to what friendship will hopefully blossom between us.
Gladys is a little lady. She is shorter than me, but seems to be even smaller in the way that she carries herself. The bottom half of her face and neck are badly scarred from a fire where she tried to take her life. She is quiet and shy and will only talk if spoken to. She is gentle and for many, I think, it would be easy to forget her presence.
The first day we visited the Casa, I don’t remember talking to her—I don’t remember talking to anyone because at that point my Spanish was, well, non-existent and my confidence at zero. But, as we were leaving, she took my hand and asked me when we were coming back, I didn’t know so I said that and then Amy told me the word for soon and I realized the potentiality of what could become of our relationships with the internos. In the next handful of visits, I may have spoken to her once or twice, but the easily more extroverted and dominant characters in the Casa overshadowed her. But, then Tyler and I went to the Casa a little over a month ago. After eating with them, Tyler went to the bridge to help the guys with some repair maintenance and I went into the TV room to watch the soap operas with the ladies. Well, one lady Danylla left after about 15 minutes to go see her children and then it was me and Gladys. We chatted a little about the soap and then another one started and she made it clear she didn’t like it. (It’s called The Clone—and its as cheesy as it sounds). I didn’t know what to do—I didn’t know what to talk about and I didn’t want her to think that I didn’t care. Thank God, I had decided to bring some photos of all of you guys and so I asked if she wanted to see them. This started a 45 minute conversation. Despite language barriers and lives full of very different experiences, we became friends in the conversation. I shared with her the stories of college friends and she shared with me photos of excursions to the local restaurant. She showed me pictures of her three children (two of who live at the orphanage) and I showed her pictures of my family. In that 45 minutes, though we came from different countries and with different lives, our lives came together and a friendship was formed.
Her father was very sick and had to go to the hospital for a stomach ulcer. He needed surgery, but had to wait because he didn’t have enough money. She was worried and didn’t have a way to get to Tegus apart from if Puri took her. Her father is still very sick and her family doesn’t have the money to help him. Gladys was in the hospital for reconstructive surgery for her face and neck, but the day of the surgery she had to leave because there were no beds available. This is in the main hospital in Tegucigalpa—one of the largest in the country.
I like her. I like that she is quiet and has a slightly Eeyore-like personality. I like that when I’m at the Casa and I see her, I feel a sense of calm, of companionship. She has been there for years and years and there is something intriguing and warming about her. I like her and I think she might like me and I look forward to what friendship will hopefully blossom between us.
Photo Details
Okay this has taken a lot longer than expected, but I’m sure you are used to that by now from me! These are some of my favorite photos from the last month and though the pictures are nice in themselves, the stories behind them are better.
1. Munchkin in a Tree: Meet Fernando. He’s one of my favorites. He lives in Terrero Colorado and he’s seven years old. When we went to Terrero a couple of weeks ago, we spent about an hour at his house mainly because he’s ridiculously funny. Beside his house is this tree and it’s full of these very sour oranges. Here, he is climbing to pick fruit for us.
2. A Little Help from a Tall Gringo: Once Fernando figured out that getting the fruit from the top of the tree was a little too far for his short arms, Matt stepped in to help out. If you can, zoom in on Fernando’s face or just take a close look. He has the biggest smile on his face and I can’t help but smile when I see it.
3. A Forest Adventure: On one of our free days, we ventured to La Tigra, the first national park in Honduras. We trekked through mile after mile of what seemed like uncharted territory and here is the team disappearing into more of the forest.
4. Our Reward: And this was our destination for an hour and half trek. We had climbed up walls, jumped over roots bigger than hippopotamuses, and walked past leaves bigger than my head. And it was all worth it.
5. The Quinze: For the big Independence Day, the kids dressed up in dancers costume to parade through the streets. This is one of the girls who goes to our nightly community meeting. I love this photo.
6. Through a Fence: Back at la Tigra, one of the many beautiful views but through a wire fence.
7. Beautiful Eyes: And these following photos are all from the Independence Day celebrations. Many of the children dress up in Indigenous clothes like this little boy.
8. Indigenous Girl
9. Little, little Red Riding Hood
10. Mi hermanita: Bessie is my little sister in my Honduran family. She is quirky and lovable. And for the most part, she makes me laugh. She is seven years old and is so quick. She is part of the radio show I do every Saturday morning and she is in charge of the agenda and being the MC.
11. Indigenous girl
12. Little Soldiers
13. Love of my life: This is the little boy, Fernando, from Terrero Colorado.
14. A Quick Nap: Ha-ha! Matt and I were leaving Tegucigalpa and in the middle of rush hour traffic, we saw this man taking a nap in the bed of a pick up truck. The air around him is surrounded with pollution and dust. But, I think he was in a different world of dreams.
15. Happy Spectators: For the day of the children, festivities of piñatas, candy, soda, and professors who are MCs for the day ensued. This is Rubi and her little sister. They are watching Prof. Carlos play a game called Chicharon (pork rinds) where you have to answer every question with Chicharon. It’s very funny.
16. Love of my life Part Two: And more Fernando. The Mayor’s office came to Terrero Colorado the day after day of the children and brought with them three piñatas. Here is Fernando with the remnants of the first piñata on his head!
17. Los Hombres: Matt and Tyler pose for a stunning photo in front of the basilica of Suyapa, the biggest basilica in Central America. We spent a day with Alex and Puri from the Casa showing us the sights of their city.
18. Me: I decided these looked like the perfect place for a reenactment of singing in the rain. It made me smile
19. Rain Friends: Nasa and I decided to venture out in the rain to go get icecream with Amy. It was pouring….like crazy so I have my rain boots on and Nasa has my fleece. It was the most fun ice cream adventure so far.
20. Oso: This is our dog—he only looks this cute when you give him a bath. He has since grown quite a bit and is about to grow bigger than this bucket. We have to give him baths more often than not because he gets lots of ticks. Last week, we pulled out over 20 ticks…yuck, yuck!
21. Sight for Sore Eyes: I love this photo. We went to Yuscaran on our free day last month and it was a beautiful little cobbled street town. We found this deserted, decaying building that was home to an impromptu football game—and home to this beautiful sight.
22. Gringos in Yuscaran: My teammates in Yuscaran in front of one of the colorful trucks that transport everything across Honduras.
1. Munchkin in a Tree: Meet Fernando. He’s one of my favorites. He lives in Terrero Colorado and he’s seven years old. When we went to Terrero a couple of weeks ago, we spent about an hour at his house mainly because he’s ridiculously funny. Beside his house is this tree and it’s full of these very sour oranges. Here, he is climbing to pick fruit for us.
2. A Little Help from a Tall Gringo: Once Fernando figured out that getting the fruit from the top of the tree was a little too far for his short arms, Matt stepped in to help out. If you can, zoom in on Fernando’s face or just take a close look. He has the biggest smile on his face and I can’t help but smile when I see it.
3. A Forest Adventure: On one of our free days, we ventured to La Tigra, the first national park in Honduras. We trekked through mile after mile of what seemed like uncharted territory and here is the team disappearing into more of the forest.
4. Our Reward: And this was our destination for an hour and half trek. We had climbed up walls, jumped over roots bigger than hippopotamuses, and walked past leaves bigger than my head. And it was all worth it.
5. The Quinze: For the big Independence Day, the kids dressed up in dancers costume to parade through the streets. This is one of the girls who goes to our nightly community meeting. I love this photo.
6. Through a Fence: Back at la Tigra, one of the many beautiful views but through a wire fence.
7. Beautiful Eyes: And these following photos are all from the Independence Day celebrations. Many of the children dress up in Indigenous clothes like this little boy.
8. Indigenous Girl
9. Little, little Red Riding Hood
10. Mi hermanita: Bessie is my little sister in my Honduran family. She is quirky and lovable. And for the most part, she makes me laugh. She is seven years old and is so quick. She is part of the radio show I do every Saturday morning and she is in charge of the agenda and being the MC.
11. Indigenous girl
12. Little Soldiers
13. Love of my life: This is the little boy, Fernando, from Terrero Colorado.
14. A Quick Nap: Ha-ha! Matt and I were leaving Tegucigalpa and in the middle of rush hour traffic, we saw this man taking a nap in the bed of a pick up truck. The air around him is surrounded with pollution and dust. But, I think he was in a different world of dreams.
15. Happy Spectators: For the day of the children, festivities of piñatas, candy, soda, and professors who are MCs for the day ensued. This is Rubi and her little sister. They are watching Prof. Carlos play a game called Chicharon (pork rinds) where you have to answer every question with Chicharon. It’s very funny.
16. Love of my life Part Two: And more Fernando. The Mayor’s office came to Terrero Colorado the day after day of the children and brought with them three piñatas. Here is Fernando with the remnants of the first piñata on his head!
17. Los Hombres: Matt and Tyler pose for a stunning photo in front of the basilica of Suyapa, the biggest basilica in Central America. We spent a day with Alex and Puri from the Casa showing us the sights of their city.
18. Me: I decided these looked like the perfect place for a reenactment of singing in the rain. It made me smile
19. Rain Friends: Nasa and I decided to venture out in the rain to go get icecream with Amy. It was pouring….like crazy so I have my rain boots on and Nasa has my fleece. It was the most fun ice cream adventure so far.
20. Oso: This is our dog—he only looks this cute when you give him a bath. He has since grown quite a bit and is about to grow bigger than this bucket. We have to give him baths more often than not because he gets lots of ticks. Last week, we pulled out over 20 ticks…yuck, yuck!
21. Sight for Sore Eyes: I love this photo. We went to Yuscaran on our free day last month and it was a beautiful little cobbled street town. We found this deserted, decaying building that was home to an impromptu football game—and home to this beautiful sight.
22. Gringos in Yuscaran: My teammates in Yuscaran in front of one of the colorful trucks that transport everything across Honduras.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Quick and Short.....
I am working on a update about the photos I posted....so it will be up soon. And Im working on some entries. Life has gotten a little crazy and finding the time to sit down and write things and actually think about them before I write just seems to be impossible. But....soon...like in the next three or four days there will be an explanation of photos and hopefully some interesting things for you guys to read!!!
Thanks for the comments...they mean the world to me and they keep me going :)
Thanks for the comments...they mean the world to me and they keep me going :)
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
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