The Yogi on the Mountain (3rd May 2014 - Honduras)

3^rd Mayo, 2014

Just after noon

I am currently sitting on our flight from San Salvador to Miami and I really lucked out! A window seat and the seat on my other side is one of those trays with cup holders – score!

I am sad to leave Candelaria, as it was a beautiful adventure and I feel that I am really developing an ear for Spanish – funny how complete immersion does that! This is always the point of the trip that is so filled with bittersweetness – “parting is such sweet sorrow,” as the poem goes.  On the one hand, I am sad to be leaving and am not exactly looking forward to the work and reality that awaits me back in Chicago. But on the other hand, I am looking forward to my own bed, my friends and the understanding that I feel back home.  And I don’t mean the misunderstanding of the people of Candelaria, but rather the cultural misunderstanding of some of my colleagues on the trip with me.  I suppose this is giving me a new fervor for really going strong with my new EWB position of social chair.  When I was running for the position, I was very open about wanting to get people from our chapter involved in activities or events that pertain to the cultures that we mainly have projects in (and probably a few that we don’t) and I definitely saw a need for that on this trip. Personally, I am also interested in learning more about these cultures – but that really isn’t anything new for me – I have always had that thirst for understanding people better. 

One of the biggest issues with cultural awareness that really started bothering me was the issue of time. Punctuality is very highly regarded in the US, and yes, I would consider it a part of our culture, however, a fairly substantial chunk of the world hold to the same viewpoint, and when working in these parts of the world, it is very important to abide by their cultural norms.  It isn’t that they don’t value time, but I think it is more of in the moment and more social – if you see someone you know, you stop to say “hello” and ask them how they are doing. Depending on the amount of people you see on your way somewhere, you might double or even triple your travel time. I remember very few times that we were “late” by our standards and had people waiting for us.  Most of the time we were waiting upwards of a half hour for some people or meetings – “ethnic time” as my Slovak mother calls it.  In fact, there was one meeting that we were at least 10 minutes late for, and a few of our members were getting visibly distressed and looked slightly embarrassed as we set-up our stuff “so long” after we were scheduled to meet.  About 40 minutes later, we started the meeting, even opting to start without a few people, who then trickled in during the next few minutes. 

I also wonder what our cook, Rosa, thought when we would tell her 7am for breakfast, then we would show up at 6:45am…maybe that’s why she started putting a box of corn flakes and bowls on the table for us in the morning – something to tide us over until she got our breakfast finished after 7am.  She reminded me of the Slovak ladies back home.  I can only imagine their frustration and embarrassment at their guests showing up to an empty table.  (Although I can hear my mom saying something along the lines of, “that’s what you get for showing up earlier than you said.”)  I wonder how I can get this cultural aspect across to people? I can certainly see a frustration if you were raised on punctuality, but I don’t want to be rude to the cultures we are working with.  This is something I will have to think on…

Back to the mountain yesterday. 

Gus and Liz are both fairly active, Type A people, so they were climbing ahead of Luis and myself.  I would stop frequently to take pictures, a flower here, a chunk of moss shaped like a heart there.  I was more than happy to take the slower pace with Luis – what is the point of rushing to the top of the mountain if you aren’t going to enjoy the view on the way up as well? I also really enjoy the views from the sides of the mountains more so than from the top; I have a greater sense of being part of the scenery than viewing it from above.  Sometimes I feel too much distance when I am on the top of the mountain – although you can see more which is always really cool. 

On the way up the mountain, Luis noticed all the things that I stopped to take photos of and mentioned a book titled “Peace in Every Step”.  It was written by a Buddhist monk, I believe, and is all about appreciating the small things in life. I will have to look it up and maybe it will be the next book I read. 

After a few more stops and starts, and one snack break with the boys where we shared pistachios and our foraged food – we finally made it to the top of the mountain.  It was beautiful up there.  Our “guides” were less than impressed and almost immediately started climbing the trees up there.  It was a great place to stop and rest before heading back down (had to be on time for lunch!).  Because there wasn’t much in the way, there was a nice breeze constantly swirling around us.  There was very little shade, but the sun didn’t feel as hot.  The edge of the mountain was fairly step from our overlook, and quickly gave way to the valley below.  Then just as quickly, rose on the other side for the mountain facing us.  There was so much green!  Green that was dotted with the whites, greys and browns of cattle and a few buildings.  To the one side we could see the red clay roofs and white church of Candelaria, to the other side of the mountain that faded into the tall horizon.  After a few minutes of enjoying the view, and the obligatory photos, we headed down the mountain.

The boys found some large walking sticks that they decided to they would carry between their legs while hopping down the rocks.  All I could think was “Jeeze, one false move and that could be quite painful,” but I am obviously in no place question them. 

Two of them got tired of carrying the sticks, so gave them to Luis and myself – which I was grateful for further down the mountain.  The third held onto his until he would reach the steeper parts, then he would vault his stick down the path, wait for it to land, look back and laugh toward me, then hop down the rocks like it was nothing.  I suppose that mountain and the surrounding mountains are their playground, so it really isn’t a big deal to them.

Further down the mountain, Luis said something to me that was very interesting.  He first asked me if I did yoga, and I told him that there are a few stretches that I do in the morning and at night that are yoga based, but it isn’t anything major and asked what mead him ask.  He then said, “Because you have the heart of a yogi. As you go through your life I think you will come to understand what that means.  You really need to read that book I told you about earlier.”  I have been thinking about that ever since, as I am not exactly sure what he means by that.  I have heard “yogi” before, but am not 100% sure that I know what it is.  I will look it up when I get back home and I will be sure to purchase that book – I am very curious about it all.  I have been told that I have an old soul – maybe it is related?  I am very intrigued by all of this….

My hand is getting tired and I want to try to nap a little before hitting Miami –plus I don’t think I will have enough time to talk about Gualsinse before we touch down in Miami.  That will have to wait for the layover in Miami, or the Miami-Chicago flight.  Until then…

                                                                                                                JLC

Holding Hands on the Mountain: Climbing the Mountain Together - part 1 (2nd May 2014 - Honduras)

2^nd Mayo, 2014,

5:05pm

This morning we climbed one of the mountains that over-looks Candelaria, as we have finished most of what we needed to do while here.  We walked through Barrio San Francisco on the way (between us and the landfill), which was really cool because it was going past a bunch of houses.  It was nice to see a neighborhood that wasn't the downtown area.  And of course, this morning our three little friends met up with us.  They insisted on holding my hand all the way to the landfill [which proved difficult as there were three of them and I only have two hands].  At the landfill we decided that our friends shouldn't follow us up the mountain.  One wasn't wearing shoes and we didn't have enough water to last for everyone.  Nick’s shoe was falling apart at the landfill, so he decided to head back and was going to take the boys with him.  However, we were hanging out at the landfill for so long that the boys got bored and shouted “adios!” as they scampered off down the road.  Shortly after that, we went up the path for the mountain. 

We weren't even fifty feet up the path when we heard some voices behind us and, who else, but our friends.  They ran up the first hundred feet with enough speed and dexterity that it could put a goat to shame.  The one still had no shoes.  When we asked if they had enough water to make it up the mountain, Marlo produced a large green pod from his back-pack, passing it around, showing us how to eat the exterior of the seeds. 

For the rest of the climb, the four of us [me, Luis, Liz and Gus] looked like the struggling mountain climbers we were, while the three boys would run ahead, bounding from rock to rock – they even had enough time to climb a few trees and show us which plants were edible. 

The two plants that we ate the most on the climb were the green pods and these yellow berries that had an apple-y taste to them.  We just hoped that everything they were feeding us wasn’t poisonous….but I am able to write this, so I think that I am fin…going to take a bit of a break now and will hopefully get back to writing more tonight…

                                                                                                                JLC

Out of place in your own homeland: A matter of perspective (31st of April, 2014 - Honduras)

31^st Abril 2014,

8:09 am

With Jimmy sick, and Luis with the landfill team, I have become the third translator, going off of one year of Spanish in middle school and my mother and co-worker, Mario, talking to me occasionally in Spanish.  Major props to them, but that amount is not at all recommended for travel….

Words I need right now for buying Gatorade for Jimmy, not sure what they use here/what is most common [these were notes to myself for easy reference]:

è Receipt – recibo, formula, receta

è How much? – Cuantos?

8:53 am

Well, getting the Gatorade was super easy, I only used “tres Gatorade” and I understood the amount that she said they were.  She didn’t have anything for producing a receipt, so I didn’t need that.  While in the store some of my young friends spotted me and called out to me, and were delighted when I said “hola” back to them. 

Currently, I am sitting on the steps of Cocepradil while the workers clean our room, which is nice that they can get in there today to do it since I was in there yesterday.  The dirty sheets and towels don’t bother me; it’s not like I change those every day back home, but it’s the amount of waste in the waste bin that is getting to be a bit much.  We have indoor plumbing here (no outhouses at the NGO, but the water gets shut off a lot), however, the toilets can’t handle toilet paper, so we have to throw away all of that in the garbage…and with me being sick yesterday….it’s nice that they are able to get in there now. I am also happy that I brought toilet paper. No matter where I travel, I always bring soap, a towel and toilet paper...

Taking a moment to document the day's events and plans. 

It rained again last night after dinner. In our room it sounded like it was going to come through the ceiling tiles and soak our beds.  I didn’t feel anything, but I guess the guys next to us (Gus and Nick) got a little wet. 

The storm brought some cool air with it, so I slept pretty well and even got a little cold during my shower – a feeling I kind of miss from Chicago. Although with this past winter I should probably be careful what I wish for [referencing the “polar vortex” winter of 2013/2014]. 

The plans for today are to finish the leachate collection system at the landfill, which Liz, Gus and Luis are already working on. Then the rest of us will work in the river constructing the gabion baskets – and by that, I mean, we will be putting rocks into the baskets, or as Nick puts it “we’ll be chuckin’ rocks.”  It’s going to be a tiring day.  I need to be sure to wear lots of sunscreen and probably my hat.  But since we will be in the water, I think I will be able to wear my shorts. Hopefully the water will help to keep me cooler today.  We will see how I am feeling then…

One other thing that I wanted to write about a bit is something that actually happened on Monday.  Orlando was talking to a group of people that were going to get some free (?) vaccines and food.  He mentioned us in his speech and pointed us out (we had been shopping close to the town square).  Afterward, a young woman in pink scrubs came up to us and started speaking in English, asking where we were from, what we were doing here, etc.  She told us that she was from one of the bigger cities in the north and was here on an internship - or something like that – for dentistry for about 6 months.  She said that she had never heard of Candelaria before and had to Google it to see where it was.  I noticed that she was wearing a Victoria’s Secret “Pink” hat, had on some nice earrings and had a nice purse (possibly also Victoria’s Secret).  She had a look in her eyes that she felt very out of place here – a bit of culture shock to come here.  She really seemed to feel more comfortable talking and relating to us than to people from her own country – she seemed really out of place.  She had that look of confusion that I am sure I had when moving to Platteville – “these are people that are from the same place as me (for me same state), yet their culture is so much different than mine – what?!?” It was interesting to see that dynamic here, and to also be reminded that Candelaria doesn't represent the whole country – the way people live here isn’t the way people live in all of Honduras.  I feel that this is something that Americans, including American volunteers, often forget.  “Third world” covers a relatively broad spectrum of life-styles and the corner of the country you have in mind for representing the country – whether you have been there yourself or seen pictures or heard about it – might not be accurate, and usually isn’t accurate, for the whole country.  I have very little in common (in terms of life-style and several view points) with someone from a small northern town in Wisconsin, or a small town in southern Illinois [Note: I’m from Milwaukee and am currently living in Chicago].  It was nice to be reminded of that.

I should get going as the group might be getting back at any minute – or they might not, we will see how things go. I should probably change clothes though….

                                                                                                                                JLC

8:00 pm

We finished the gabions today and it was so nice to be in the river.  It wasn’t super-hot again today, but then again, I spent most of the day in the shade or the river. At any rate, having the cool fluid rushing over my feet and dipping my hands in the river to pick out rocks felt great. We placed and filled the gabions in less than two hours, which is even more impressive when you realize that it is about two tons of rocks moved by hand.  For that, it was myself, Nick and the local workers provided by the community.  (The rest of our team was at the landfill giving a demonstration on a way to safely dispose of needles from the medical facility.)  Once the workers understood what we were doing, they formed a line and tossed rocks to one another to save time and the hassle of walking across the slippery, rocky terrain.  I don’t know how other communities are to work with, but this community has been great to work with; they pick up on things really quickly, are very interested in the projects that we are working with them on, and just overall, have been very receptive and hospitable to us.  We have had a few hiccups here and there, but overall, they have been a real pleasure to work with. 

"Chuckin' rocks" with some of the local workers.

Finishing the gabians - Final wires to hold basket together. 

Orlando, the mayor, has also been fantastic. He has been driving us around everywhere, taking us to have “snacks”/”refreshments” and even welcomed us into his home today for coffee and cakes.  What is very interesting is that I am told the people call him “the prophet”.  From what I understand, and I might be wrong on this as I don’t speak fluent Spanish, and haven’t delved too far into it, the older political party was run by people who had businesses, whereas the current political party is run by people who had other positions, such as educators or other roles that weren’t running businesses.  It is interesting that when we are driving through town with Orlando, he honks at people EVERYWHERE and frequently stops to talk to someone, in a pick-up truck or walking alongside the road. It does appear that he is well-liked, but maybe I am not seeing the other side of it? Either side, I like him so far and have been extremely grateful for his hospitality and for the amount of time he has taken to work with us. 

I keep getting distracted, so I should probably get going.  Buenos Noches!

                                                                                                                                JLC