Cultural Frustrations

I love experiencing new cultures. It has always been so interesting to me to see how other groups of people interact, what their traditions are, and why they live in the ways they do. Cultures have always been beautiful, different, and something almost exotic. And in many ways, I feel this about the Honduran culture. I admire the beauty of how dedicated the Hondurans are to their faith. I marvel at the traditions of floats, 4am Novenas, and morning Birthday serenades. But there are also many parts of the culture that drive me nuts. Yes, this is coming from a foreigner that doesn’t understand the culture, the tradition, courtesy or interactions between people and yes, I am probably missing a little bit of acculturation, but some parts of the culture I just do not seem to be able to adapt to.

I have never been that punctual of a person—never. But the people of Honduras put this into a new respect. We were warned of this before we came and I didn’t really think it would be a big deal. I was actually kind of excited because I’m almost always late in the States and hated feeling so rushed all the time. Well, I don’t whether I have gone to the other extreme of always wanting to be early, but time is so fluid here. Meetings that are supposed to start at 6 maybe get started at 6:30. A couple of weeks ago, we went to a meeting that was supposed to start a 5 and didn’t even move into the meeting room until 6:05. It just gets under my skin. To me, it’s a general disrespect of people’s time, but in this culture, there is just no rush. Every week, Catechism starts at 2—but I can never start class because at 2, I only have about 3 of 28 children present and so maybe we start at 2:30 on a good day. And then the professors in charge do not turn up until this time either. And this general lack of regard of time then in turn makes you late for other events. Last week, we went to go cut down palms for a lady at the Church and told her we had to be back by 1. At 1, we were at her house finishing lunch she had cooked for her. I hate making people wait and I hate feeling irresponsible, but maybe I need to realize that these people are probably not waiting but expecting me in a little bit. In my mission statement, I wrote that I want to follow the rhythm of the Honduran people and this I am struggling with.

I also have never been a person that sincerely values their privacy. But, I have had to re-evaluate that here. Our house is surrounded by a wall that has about five metal decorated windows and at least once a day, I feel like someone is looking through them or calling out to us through them. We have a front garage door looking thing and because it doesn’t go together very well, you can see our front door from it and so everybody can tell if we are home or not. And if people knock and we don’t answer and they see the door open, they will continue knocking until we answer. Kids will knock for hours until we answer. Our trash that sits outside of our house has already been rummaged through by visitors asking why we were throwing this out or if they could have this empty container. And the whole time, I just wanted to scream it’s our trash! And when people come over, they have no reservations about going through boxes or looking at anything we have laying out. And the whole time, I just want to tell them to butt out, to give us our time and our space and to let us be—but our privacy is non-existent here and time off is rare.
I have never liked asking for stuff, but here no reservations exist. When there is something that someone wants, they just come out and ask. And this is something that we as a team have been floundering in. Just the other day, we were working outside to organize something and a lady from the Church knocked on the door to ask if she could have two pieces of wood that were sitting outside our house. She had seen them through the crack in the garage door and came strolling in to ask for them. People ask us for rides left and right because we have a car and have no reservations in asking. It’s almost like it’s expected. And there is no thought that they might be taking advantage of us. And half of me feels as though these people must have no reservations about asking because they are in need and that lessens it slightly—but at the same time, I miss the culturally etiquette and sometimes even false politeness before asking for something. Maybe due to the language, but normal questions are never asked, but statements are used instead. For instance, “Drive me to Agua Blanca?” as opposed to “Can you drive me to Agua Blanca.” People are unbelievable in what they will ask you to do here without batting an eyelash.

This all sounds so negative, but one of the biggest frustrations is just not being able to understand why people act in this way or not being acculturated enough that this doesn’t bother me anymore. But, in all sincerity, I do not think that in the space of a year I will be able to shed all of my cultural norms, values, and standards of politeness and respect to completely adapt to Honduras. To a certain extent, yes, I can become more used to a more laid back, less structured fluid time schedule and actually enjoy taking my time in life as opposed to rushing through it. And maybe by being pushed to a less private life, I will form stronger relationships and gain a more deeper meaning for my trash..haha. And maybe people always asking for stuff is my perfect opportunity to give. But, only with time and patience will these cultural frustrations stop being difficulties and start being simply another way to live life.