On our first four-day weekend in the school year, we decided to go to the beach! The Caribbean sounded appealing, so a group of 16 of us headed for the Atlantic coast. White beaches, hot sun, ice cream, perhaps a hammock over the water. Maybe even some snorkeling or scuba diving. It all seemed so dreamy.
We headed out on Thursday after the Independence Day parade. After a 5 hour chartered bus ride (thanks David!), we arrived in Omoa after dark, got our hostel beds, and headed for dinner. Dinner service, as to be expected in Honduras, was slow, so small groups took breaks from being serenaded with US country music at the dinner table and walked out the pier across the street. We waited until after dinner to take our trip up the planks. The water was lapping on the shore, fishermen could be seen catching fish off the end of the pier, and mounds of trash were piled up against the beach and around the pier pilings all the way out to the end of the pier. "I can't swim in that," was my first thought. Oh, we should have known. Lovely Honduras, you are so beautiful, but you do have a trash problem.
Apparently, Omoa has had a few things happen in recent years that is contributing to its trash problem. First, Honduras appears to be in a transition from disposable packaging, such as banana leaves, to all the same types of plastic trash we find in the US. Remember the commercials from the '70s with the (Italian) Indian crying over the trash and the big campaign to clean up the USA? That hasn't happened here, so lots of the wrappers, chip bags, and pop bottles just end up on the ground. We're in the midst of the rainy season, so this trash gets washed into the rivers, which eventually carry it to the coast. Omoa, being close to the border, also is the beneficiary of trash carried by the rivers of Guatemala and Belize. Omoa also suffered under Hurricane Mitch in 1998, diminishing the coastline and changing the sea currents to bring more trash inland. Finally, Omoa has suffered at the hands of the gas company. Storage tanks were installed on Omoa's beach for importing liquified petroleum gas. Along with the tanks came sea walls that disturbed the natural currents and destroyed the beach. Perhaps the locals welcome the continual line of gas trucks driving the length of Omoa all day Sunday? Ah, progress (corruption, greed?).
Fortunately, the next day, we were able to find a small beach with less trash and got to go swimming. On Sunday, we took a bus to an even nicer beach with even less trash. We also hiked to a waterfall, saw the old Spanish fort, ate fish, and enjoyed our time at Roli's Place!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
It's a small world, isn't it? -- by Amy and Alex
So, we walked into a bar, two Fridays ago, to be precise. Barcito (I guess that would mean we walked into a "little bar") is a popular tourist hang out, and also popular with the younger U.S. Mayatan teachers. (Us older folks prefer the much more laid back scene at the local German bar over the intense are you gonna date a Honduran? scene at the town's two tourist bars.) Anyway, we walked up the flight of stairs leading into Barcito. At the top of the stairs, I glanced to my left and noticed this tall dark-haired man staring at me. You may think I'm being vain thinking some man was staring at me, but, being the blond giantess that I am, it truly happens quite frequently. So frequently, in fact, that I am in the habit of ignoring it, especially if Alex is not standing immediately beside me. So I turned my full attention to Sarah, who was asking me something, and the very large-screen video of the rock group Queen directly in front of me, thinking meanwhile that the man staring at me looked familiar. "There is no way you would ever see someone you know in Honduras," my brain told me, "He is just some tall Honduran guy." I definitely was going to ignore some tall Honduran guy staring at me. After answering Sarah's question, I peeked back over to see if that guy had stopped staring, only to see Alex over there talking with him. "Oh my gosh!" I suddenly realized. My brain switched gears, finally informing me, "If Alex is talking with him, it must be someone we know.
OK this is Alex writing now: When I topped the stairs I looked to my left and saw the same tall dark haired guy looking at me also. My first thought was not, Oh there is a tall dark haired guy staring at me again.:) Rather, my first thought was, I know this guy, but how? Even though I couldn't place him and my mind was reeling from confusion and feeling a lot like I was in the twilight zone, I waved at him and he waved back. His waving back confused me even more and now I was going to have to approach him and ask, "Hi, how do I know you?" which was pretty much the way it went. I walked up to him, he was standing by now, and I shook his hand and asked, "Tillamook?", my mind still dazed. He replied, "Yes", thinking I had asked something else (it was very loud there) but I was still confused so I tried again with a play it safe kinda question, "How do I know you?", to which he replied, "Yellowstone". Ah, the lights came on. Glenn!
We worked at Yellowstone with Glenn last summer! What a trip! No, I'm not on acid. All this way and who would have thunk it. Amy finally came over and greetings were exchanged as we sat down and got caught up on how we all happened in Honduras. He said he knew that we were in Honduras from another friend we all had worked with in YS, but didn't know where. He had been on vacation in the Honduran islands on the Caribbean side and had met some ladies who were working here in Copan. So, he decided to visit Copan Ruinas. We introduced him to our fellow teachers and the next day he joined us on a guided trip to a waterfall outside the town of Santa Rita. We swam in the refreshing pool below the falls for a couple of hours before we made our journey back to Copan Ruinas. Later that evening he joined our potluck party. He fit right in, even staying long after Amy and I went home. The following morning Glenn was off on an early bus to San Pedro Sula to catch a plane home to the States. It can be a small world, can't it!
OK this is Alex writing now: When I topped the stairs I looked to my left and saw the same tall dark haired guy looking at me also. My first thought was not, Oh there is a tall dark haired guy staring at me again.:) Rather, my first thought was, I know this guy, but how? Even though I couldn't place him and my mind was reeling from confusion and feeling a lot like I was in the twilight zone, I waved at him and he waved back. His waving back confused me even more and now I was going to have to approach him and ask, "Hi, how do I know you?" which was pretty much the way it went. I walked up to him, he was standing by now, and I shook his hand and asked, "Tillamook?", my mind still dazed. He replied, "Yes", thinking I had asked something else (it was very loud there) but I was still confused so I tried again with a play it safe kinda question, "How do I know you?", to which he replied, "Yellowstone". Ah, the lights came on. Glenn!
We worked at Yellowstone with Glenn last summer! What a trip! No, I'm not on acid. All this way and who would have thunk it. Amy finally came over and greetings were exchanged as we sat down and got caught up on how we all happened in Honduras. He said he knew that we were in Honduras from another friend we all had worked with in YS, but didn't know where. He had been on vacation in the Honduran islands on the Caribbean side and had met some ladies who were working here in Copan. So, he decided to visit Copan Ruinas. We introduced him to our fellow teachers and the next day he joined us on a guided trip to a waterfall outside the town of Santa Rita. We swam in the refreshing pool below the falls for a couple of hours before we made our journey back to Copan Ruinas. Later that evening he joined our potluck party. He fit right in, even staying long after Amy and I went home. The following morning Glenn was off on an early bus to San Pedro Sula to catch a plane home to the States. It can be a small world, can't it!
"Road Crew" By Alex
Today I was wondering what I would be doing at school, and I am always amazed at what comes up and how busy I can be. Antonio, one of the vigilantes (guards) came up to me and said, "Let's go help over there," in Spanish, of course. He and Chepe, the other vigilante, carrying shovels and pushing a wheel barrel, handed me a length of eight inch PVC pipe and off we went strolling down the dirt road along side of the school. We walked about a quarter mile to a place in the road where I realized that I was going to be working on a road crew put together at the last minute by the office staff at school. Before I proceed I will give a bit of history. The majority of the road to school is dirt and very dusty and the last bit before you get to the school is up a pretty steep hill. Every year it gets very rutty during the rainy season and now it is going to be paved with cobblestone or interlocking pavers. When we arrived in August, the road crews had started the grading process and sections of the road had been blocked off. As a result, a new temporary road was cut along the outer edge of the town to accommodate traffic to the school and beyond.
This new road is all freshly cut dirt along the hillsides with not a lot of forethought going into it. Winding, descending and rising along the way it can get very muddy and slippery after a good rain with the buses and other traffic having a slippery time ascending the hills and crossing the swales. A few times buses have become stuck in the mud, and as a result, students have been late for school. There has been an attempt at alleviating the problem by the "strategic" placement of crushed rock in specific areas which usually falls short of what is really necessary.
Place in point. As we arrived at the work spot, we followed the road downhill where, at the bottom, is a creek flowing across the road while the ascending road on the other side of the creek is much steeper with an added curve to the right. Our motley crew made up of bus drivers, school guards and four young Honduran recruits began picking and shoveling a trench across the road in the middle of the creek. This was no easy chore with the ground being made up of every size of rock you can imagine. My first thought was are we really going to use an eight inch pipe? One of the bus drivers took the roll of hefe (boss) and then another bus driver came and joined him in the roll. They worked as well so that was a plus. Then another guy showed up and started waving his arms and from what I gathered he was saying, "We need a bigger pipe! That pipe is too small! I will make a phone call!"
We resumed our laboring when a bit later another guy, the gringo who owns the bird park here, showed up and talked to the guy making the phone call. Finally, the gringo said, "We need a bigger pipe. This will be disastrous with a big rain. I will go get the pipe." We had to stop digging the trench so traffic had a place to cross so we began shoveling crushed rock into wheel barrels from along the edge of the roadway and wheeling the rock down to beside the trench, dumping it into piles so we could shovel it into place later. Why shovel rock once when you can shovel it twice? A little while later, the guy from the school who sent us there to start the project showed up and put his two cents in about the pipe and sped off - another jefe!
Finally the pipe arrived, a nice eighteen inch diameter corrugated culvert pipe. It was a good thing those guys showed up and demanded a better pipe. We finished digging the trench and placed the pipe. I assumed we were going to backfill around the pipe with the crushed rock we hauled over as this is the correct way by our standards in the US, but to my surprise the others started digging the dirt-clay away from the side of the hill and began dumping it around and on top of the culvert pipe. I wanted to say something, but decided it was not my place or country nor did they need one more jefe. Instead, I willingly helped spreading the dirt around around the culvert. After it was decided that we had an adequate amount of dirt, we commenced spreading the crushed gravel on top of the dirt which was a pain in the ass as it was in piles that we could hardly dig the shovel into. I was thinking about how it would have been much easier to haul it over and dump it on top of the culvert instead of putting it in piles which we would have to move again.
As we finished spreading the material, traffic would drive over it to test it out, but each time a vehicle drove over, the section of road would flex like a sponge from all the dirt below the crushed rock. We will see how it holds up with the next big rain. Even though it was not the most efficient job in some ways, it was a good effort and a new experience of how things get done in Honduras. To top it off I got to work on a Honduran road crew, if that is what you could call us.
Two days later: We had a big rain last night and I was wondering how the culvert was holding up, so the next day I walked over to inspect the culvert. When I arrived, the culvert was intact but, where was all the gravel we spread over the top, not to mention the dump truck load that was brought later that day? Ahh, it all had sunk into the dirt when it turned to mud. Well all in all for now it is okay. We will see how long it will last. Hopefully a long, long time.
This new road is all freshly cut dirt along the hillsides with not a lot of forethought going into it. Winding, descending and rising along the way it can get very muddy and slippery after a good rain with the buses and other traffic having a slippery time ascending the hills and crossing the swales. A few times buses have become stuck in the mud, and as a result, students have been late for school. There has been an attempt at alleviating the problem by the "strategic" placement of crushed rock in specific areas which usually falls short of what is really necessary.
Place in point. As we arrived at the work spot, we followed the road downhill where, at the bottom, is a creek flowing across the road while the ascending road on the other side of the creek is much steeper with an added curve to the right. Our motley crew made up of bus drivers, school guards and four young Honduran recruits began picking and shoveling a trench across the road in the middle of the creek. This was no easy chore with the ground being made up of every size of rock you can imagine. My first thought was are we really going to use an eight inch pipe? One of the bus drivers took the roll of hefe (boss) and then another bus driver came and joined him in the roll. They worked as well so that was a plus. Then another guy showed up and started waving his arms and from what I gathered he was saying, "We need a bigger pipe! That pipe is too small! I will make a phone call!"
We resumed our laboring when a bit later another guy, the gringo who owns the bird park here, showed up and talked to the guy making the phone call. Finally, the gringo said, "We need a bigger pipe. This will be disastrous with a big rain. I will go get the pipe." We had to stop digging the trench so traffic had a place to cross so we began shoveling crushed rock into wheel barrels from along the edge of the roadway and wheeling the rock down to beside the trench, dumping it into piles so we could shovel it into place later. Why shovel rock once when you can shovel it twice? A little while later, the guy from the school who sent us there to start the project showed up and put his two cents in about the pipe and sped off - another jefe!
Finally the pipe arrived, a nice eighteen inch diameter corrugated culvert pipe. It was a good thing those guys showed up and demanded a better pipe. We finished digging the trench and placed the pipe. I assumed we were going to backfill around the pipe with the crushed rock we hauled over as this is the correct way by our standards in the US, but to my surprise the others started digging the dirt-clay away from the side of the hill and began dumping it around and on top of the culvert pipe. I wanted to say something, but decided it was not my place or country nor did they need one more jefe. Instead, I willingly helped spreading the dirt around around the culvert. After it was decided that we had an adequate amount of dirt, we commenced spreading the crushed gravel on top of the dirt which was a pain in the ass as it was in piles that we could hardly dig the shovel into. I was thinking about how it would have been much easier to haul it over and dump it on top of the culvert instead of putting it in piles which we would have to move again.
As we finished spreading the material, traffic would drive over it to test it out, but each time a vehicle drove over, the section of road would flex like a sponge from all the dirt below the crushed rock. We will see how it holds up with the next big rain. Even though it was not the most efficient job in some ways, it was a good effort and a new experience of how things get done in Honduras. To top it off I got to work on a Honduran road crew, if that is what you could call us.
Two days later: We had a big rain last night and I was wondering how the culvert was holding up, so the next day I walked over to inspect the culvert. When I arrived, the culvert was intact but, where was all the gravel we spread over the top, not to mention the dump truck load that was brought later that day? Ahh, it all had sunk into the dirt when it turned to mud. Well all in all for now it is okay. We will see how long it will last. Hopefully a long, long time.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Obsessing about Water - by Amy
You may wonder why water is so important to me, having read the blog about finessing the shower to get hot water. Upon our return, during the rainy season and the dog days of summer, I find myself downing 2 Nalgene bottles of water a day. So, yes, I guess I obsess about water. Do we have enough potable water at home, that we purchase in large water cooler bottles for $1? Do we need to fill up all of our pitchers and Nalgenes so we can go get some more as potable water from the tap is a miracle that only occurs in 1st world countries? Is my water bottle continually full at school? The kids have already been admonished by me that they can't laugh when my voice cracks - why is that so funny when they know that not only are the teachers talking 5 hours a day, but we have to teach above the din of the playground, other classrooms (in my case, the computer lab, which has classes coming in and out all day), and the construction noises thoughtfully added to the mix by Alex? We were forewarned by the teachers who were here during the rainy season last year that this is also the time of more frequent power outages, sometimes lasting for a few days. At our household, power outages are accompanied by water outages. You don't want to be around Alex when he misses his shower - not only does he get stinky, but he gets cranky, too!
Having read "Amy's top 10 ways to take a hot shower" way back in January, you may have wondered, as we did, if there would ever be a time when we needed a list titled "Amy's top 10 ways to take a cold shower." Si, claro - of course there is! As the weather heats up, so does the water that comes into our house and the difficulty to get enough cool water to take a refreshing shower. Here's the list:
Having read "Amy's top 10 ways to take a hot shower" way back in January, you may have wondered, as we did, if there would ever be a time when we needed a list titled "Amy's top 10 ways to take a cold shower." Si, claro - of course there is! As the weather heats up, so does the water that comes into our house and the difficulty to get enough cool water to take a refreshing shower. Here's the list:
1. Become a master of adjusting the water faucet one micrometer at a time to get the right temperature.
2. Take a shower in the late afternoon, before the power goes out, eventually taking the water supply with it.
3. DO NOT run any water anywhere else in the entire building (which includes the 2 families downstairs and the teacher next door) while someone is in the shower. It reduces the water pressure, thus increasing the temperature in the bizarre water heater contraption that also serves as a shower head that depends upon a very precise water pressure. (Try to forget that the electric water heater right above your head is connected to the electric source with some very shaky looking wiring and has been known to give innocent bathers a little shock. Case in point - Alex took took a shower yesterday right after our water supply came back. Flowing water was followed by an air pocket. The blast of water that followed the air, caused a large spark inside the water heater. Luckily, Alex was standing outside the shower and not under the shower head at that point.)
4. Wait for the constantly fluctuating water pressure to peak. If the water pressure is too low, there will be enough cold water to turn the water heater on, but not enough to counter balance the hot water to obtain a luke-warm shower.
5. Take a shower right after a power outage has started as the water pressure will still be somewhat strong but there won't be power to turn on the water heater. This will result in a cold shower, but when it's this hot, who cares!
6. Don’t take a shower when the lights are dim. The power, like the water pressure, constantly fluctuates, so you may suddenly find yourself in a very hot shower.
7. Wait for cooler weather as a warm day heats the water in the river and in the black plastic water storage tank. Warm water gets even warmer when it runs through the water heater.
8. Learn to accept that the Honduran weather is a lot hotter than where we're from in the US and that everyone sweats, whether you've had a cool shower or not.
9. Appreciate every day that there is water coming to the shower, no matter what the temperature is.
10. Take hot showers and sweat it off once you get out.
Alfombras
Thursday evening at five PM, sixty to seventy people gathered at one of the streets alongside the central park to begin the creation of the Semana Santa alfombras (carpets). The first procedure was to take all of the bags of uncolored sawdust that were distributed along the block and empty them on top of the cobblestone.
After we emptyed the bags, people took rakes and brooms to the sawdust to spred it out. Next, we took long boards to use as screeds (similar to spreading out concrete) to level out the sawdust, making several passes, pulling the boards over the sawdust to get out any humps and swales. After the sawdust was fairly level, we placed cardboard on the sawdust and "danced" on it to tamp the sawdust down. Each person used two pieces of cardboard, placing one in front of the other to travel the full length of the street, pressing the sawdust down. After this was done, string lines were placed to ensure the proper spacing of the alfombras, then out came the sawdust that I helped color last week. We found out when it was time to place the image on the flattened sawdus that us teachers from Escuela Mayatan had our own alfombra.
Each alfombra had a square center with a border. One color was used for the center and another for the border. Each alfombra had its own image, and ours was Jesus portrayed as a shepard, with his sheep of course. We had different colors to choose from for Jesus' ropa (clothes). We were all barefoot as we had to be careful on the sawdust. As a result, we all went home with colored feet and hands. Designs were created by us for decorating the border. Many onlookers were lining the street all through the night along with the occasional stray dog prancing unaware across the length of the alfombras. The damage was very minimal until someone would shew the dog and it would take off only to do more damage. Toward the end we let some "stray" kids help and they were very excited. Our alfombra was finally finished it only took seven hours. Amy was tired and went home to bed while I stayed to guard and helped finish with the final touches.
This posting was still in our drafts box from last Easter. I guess we fell behind a little on our postings. We now have internet at home, so we should be better, barring power outages and acts of God that seem to strike Honduras more than Oregon.
After we emptyed the bags, people took rakes and brooms to the sawdust to spred it out. Next, we took long boards to use as screeds (similar to spreading out concrete) to level out the sawdust, making several passes, pulling the boards over the sawdust to get out any humps and swales. After the sawdust was fairly level, we placed cardboard on the sawdust and "danced" on it to tamp the sawdust down. Each person used two pieces of cardboard, placing one in front of the other to travel the full length of the street, pressing the sawdust down. After this was done, string lines were placed to ensure the proper spacing of the alfombras, then out came the sawdust that I helped color last week. We found out when it was time to place the image on the flattened sawdus that us teachers from Escuela Mayatan had our own alfombra.
Each alfombra had a square center with a border. One color was used for the center and another for the border. Each alfombra had its own image, and ours was Jesus portrayed as a shepard, with his sheep of course. We had different colors to choose from for Jesus' ropa (clothes). We were all barefoot as we had to be careful on the sawdust. As a result, we all went home with colored feet and hands. Designs were created by us for decorating the border. Many onlookers were lining the street all through the night along with the occasional stray dog prancing unaware across the length of the alfombras. The damage was very minimal until someone would shew the dog and it would take off only to do more damage. Toward the end we let some "stray" kids help and they were very excited. Our alfombra was finally finished it only took seven hours. Amy was tired and went home to bed while I stayed to guard and helped finish with the final touches.
This posting was still in our drafts box from last Easter. I guess we fell behind a little on our postings. We now have internet at home, so we should be better, barring power outages and acts of God that seem to strike Honduras more than Oregon.
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