Even a cow needs to get out every once and a while for some fresh air.
Monday, May 31, 2010
A Thief’s Checklist
By following this blog, I'm sure you've learned that Copan is a very unique place. Seeing ludicrous, inexplicable things day in and day out has greatly reduced the number of things that surprise me. Every once in a while though, I let my guard down, and the utter ridiculousness of this place wins out. For example, last week Abby and I were walking down the mountain after school, and as I heard a vehicle slowly approaching us from behind, I instinctively glanced back. There was a small pickup sputtering and scraping the ground because it was packed with the BIGGEST garbage bags I had ever seen. You literally could fit a small 4-wheeler in each one. They also hadn't stopped loading up the truck when the bed was full, for these monstrous bags were piled on top of each other reaching over 15 feet in the air (no lie). Abby raced to get her camera out, but the truck rounded the next corner, albeit slowly, before we could capture a photo for the next edition of "You Might Be A Redneck If..." I've seen some pretty slammed trucks, but this was too much.
Another thing that surprised me (the reason for this post) happened over Semana Santa (Spring Break) when Doug and Linda Hill were in town. I was robbed. I had a much more substantial robbery last year in Chapel Hill, but still, it gave me that post-theft unsettling feeling. First though, let’s back up, so you can see how the realization unfolded.
Unable to resist the sumptuousness of the Marina hotel, I was staying in Abby's parents' room for the week but periodically went go home to get some new clothes. One such time, Doug and I entered my house and found all the bedroom, kitchen, and apartment doors open. The front door to the street was shut, so I just figured my roommates had returned and I had just left my door open (something I never do). I did check to make sure my passport, money, and computer were still there, and when I found them, I thought nothing more of it...until my roommates returned 3 days later. dum dUM DUM. Chris told me he was missing money that he had had lying on his desk, so I went to reinvestigate. We found out that they had entered through the kitchen door, which wasn't double locked (roommates' fault since I never use that door), by punching their hand through the window screen and pulling the door lever. Then we played the "what did I do with my ____?" game for the next few days with the delightful twist of a break-in actually being a possibility. Just tell me what you took, thief!
Figuring out what they stole proved rather difficult. Let's start with what they left behind:
- computers (These just complicate life.)
- cameras (Everyone and their baby already has one on their cell phone.)
- radios (Too old school)
- passports (hmmm?)
- cell phones (Already got 3.)
- printer (What would you ever use this for?)
So what DID they take?
- Money from Chris (OK this was normal. This is what tipped us off. I wised up after the Merritt Mill Massacre of 2008 and have mine in a super secret hiding spot.
- Kitchen knives (naturally)
- My night light/mini tripod (Who wouldn't want one of these?...I only discovered this when I wanted to read a little before falling asleep.)
- My cowboy hat (Absolute necessity to prove manhood in Honduras...This loss dawned on me about a week later when we were going on a hike. )
- Headphones (PURE EVIL...Oh this was the worst. I was so pumped to enjoy some new CDs I had just purchased when I found that my beloved, over-ear headphones had been stolen- from under my shorts in a drawer!)
So they had the time to pick and choose, knowing what we had to offer. This means their booty was all specifically chosen...Not the most "valuable" goods to steal I must say, but now we know what sorts of things motivate Copanecos to break in.
OH YEAH and they weren't the only visitors...these guys were hanging out in my kitchen. I hadn't cooked at my house in several months when we found them and definitely will not cook there ever again. Thank you, Doug, for smashing all of them with a glass jar- I guess that's why you still have your cowboy hat and I do not.
Are those 5 cockroaches hanging out, sucking up water, and spreading filth? Yes. Is that the kitchen sink? Yes. Are there at least 5 other ones scurrying around trying to scale the brushed aluminum? Yes. Were they continuing to come up through the drain, pushing up the stopper on their way out? Oh yeah. SICK!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
All Dogs Do NOT Go to Heaven
Has Nature itself fallen from the natural order of things or do We (as souled beings) have a distinct, elevated Natural Law?
Sometimes we look for certain encounters to give us meaning (e.g. seminars, sermons, travel, art, etc.)- something concrete and revealing about the world that we then can reflect on later. We then use this gained insight to understand more about the reality in which we live and in turn use that as a new filter to help better understand ouselves.
Other times, we have these encounters forced upon us. I recently stumbled on such an experience that challenged me on several levels. I will try my best to set the scene to help elucidate why these questions arose. Also, let me preface this story by saying that even though for me this was a novel, singular event, the people in this society beginning at a young age witness acts like the following on a regular basis. Maybe because of our different life experiences, we (I) don't appreciate or notice them in the same way. Just as a UnitedStatesian* preacher might be more affected by spending time with the starving poor than attending another theological symposium, I was more conflicted about seeing this ravenous act of "nature" than many other people with prior exposure might have been.
(Disclaimer: Some of this content is not suitable for children under... a certain age.)
At about 6:45 AM, Abby and I walked onto Mayatan School campus and immediately noticed the distinct sounds of a dog fight. (Hint: Dogs only fight about 3 things I think.) We walked over to the fence by the kindergarden and first grade area where we saw a group of about 10 dogs outside on the dirt road all seemingly very agitated. The reason for all the commotion became painfully evident when I saw one dog mount another. This is not the first time I'd seen dogs mating in Copan (see blog post on 11.7.2009), but then again, this was no Discovery Channel mating scene with futuristic Zen music in the background- this was a full on gang bang. The dogs were literally taking minute-long turns with the female, and fights frequently broke out when they thought the other had exceeded his alotted time. On top of all that, the incessant barking, growling, yelping, and ferocious quarreling attracted several primary grade students to contemplate this atrocity alongside us.
Dumbfounded by the barbaric way these dogs were having their way with this submissive female, I didn't even try to shield these children from such base animosity. Immediatley then, the first question struck me: Why should I "protect" them from this sight? I wouldn't stop them from watching other acts of nature like a bird ripping a fish apart or a spider sucking the blood out of a mosquito. On the contrary, I would probably encourage that they look to see nature in action. Then followed the second question: Why did this part of nature affect me so much? I've seen other gruesome things in nature that seem strangely beautiful and "natural," so why did this part of nature seem so despicable and unjust?
Why do I feel like natural in this case should be in quotation marks? Is it just my projecting socially constructed ideas about sex and relationships? This would mean that the only difference between this and other situations is that I can identify and empathize more easily with dogs in comparison with other things. Thinking about grass and its pollen, I guess I know that for us it's not acceptable to spread your seed across the whole world with reckless abandon in hopes of siring a child. But maybe because this type of procreation looks so vastly different than ours, I have no moral anguish knowing it occurs. Or maybe Nature is not inherently perfect or morally neutral lik we are taught in Science class. I still don't know the answer.
However, I can't disregard this powerful repulsion that I felt while watching those dogs repeatedly copulate with the female. Quite often it looked like the female was in a lot of pain. It's like her genes that caused her to be in heat acted as a seditive, so she would be compliant to an otherwise (seemingly) uncomfortable situation. Am I misreading the experience? Is Nature fallen? Or is this an example of how the image of God that we carry really sets us apart?
*In English, we lack an adjective to denote our own U.S. citizenship. The closest term we have locates us on 2 of 7 continents: we call ourselves Americans. This term becomes ambiguous when considering the people of the Americas south of the U.S. because those people rightfully claim they're Americans too. In Spanish, the word estadounidense clarifies that the person is from the U.S.A. I propose that the much derided term "U.S. Americans" (pioneered by Miss South Carolina) be embraced to classify U.S. citizens because it removes ambiguity in a globalized world and because it sounds much more natural than UnitedStatsian.
Sometimes we look for certain encounters to give us meaning (e.g. seminars, sermons, travel, art, etc.)- something concrete and revealing about the world that we then can reflect on later. We then use this gained insight to understand more about the reality in which we live and in turn use that as a new filter to help better understand ouselves.
Other times, we have these encounters forced upon us. I recently stumbled on such an experience that challenged me on several levels. I will try my best to set the scene to help elucidate why these questions arose. Also, let me preface this story by saying that even though for me this was a novel, singular event, the people in this society beginning at a young age witness acts like the following on a regular basis. Maybe because of our different life experiences, we (I) don't appreciate or notice them in the same way. Just as a UnitedStatesian* preacher might be more affected by spending time with the starving poor than attending another theological symposium, I was more conflicted about seeing this ravenous act of "nature" than many other people with prior exposure might have been.
(Disclaimer: Some of this content is not suitable for children under... a certain age.)
At about 6:45 AM, Abby and I walked onto Mayatan School campus and immediately noticed the distinct sounds of a dog fight. (Hint: Dogs only fight about 3 things I think.) We walked over to the fence by the kindergarden and first grade area where we saw a group of about 10 dogs outside on the dirt road all seemingly very agitated. The reason for all the commotion became painfully evident when I saw one dog mount another. This is not the first time I'd seen dogs mating in Copan (see blog post on 11.7.2009), but then again, this was no Discovery Channel mating scene with futuristic Zen music in the background- this was a full on gang bang. The dogs were literally taking minute-long turns with the female, and fights frequently broke out when they thought the other had exceeded his alotted time. On top of all that, the incessant barking, growling, yelping, and ferocious quarreling attracted several primary grade students to contemplate this atrocity alongside us.
Dumbfounded by the barbaric way these dogs were having their way with this submissive female, I didn't even try to shield these children from such base animosity. Immediatley then, the first question struck me: Why should I "protect" them from this sight? I wouldn't stop them from watching other acts of nature like a bird ripping a fish apart or a spider sucking the blood out of a mosquito. On the contrary, I would probably encourage that they look to see nature in action. Then followed the second question: Why did this part of nature affect me so much? I've seen other gruesome things in nature that seem strangely beautiful and "natural," so why did this part of nature seem so despicable and unjust?
Why do I feel like natural in this case should be in quotation marks? Is it just my projecting socially constructed ideas about sex and relationships? This would mean that the only difference between this and other situations is that I can identify and empathize more easily with dogs in comparison with other things. Thinking about grass and its pollen, I guess I know that for us it's not acceptable to spread your seed across the whole world with reckless abandon in hopes of siring a child. But maybe because this type of procreation looks so vastly different than ours, I have no moral anguish knowing it occurs. Or maybe Nature is not inherently perfect or morally neutral lik we are taught in Science class. I still don't know the answer.
However, I can't disregard this powerful repulsion that I felt while watching those dogs repeatedly copulate with the female. Quite often it looked like the female was in a lot of pain. It's like her genes that caused her to be in heat acted as a seditive, so she would be compliant to an otherwise (seemingly) uncomfortable situation. Am I misreading the experience? Is Nature fallen? Or is this an example of how the image of God that we carry really sets us apart?
*In English, we lack an adjective to denote our own U.S. citizenship. The closest term we have locates us on 2 of 7 continents: we call ourselves Americans. This term becomes ambiguous when considering the people of the Americas south of the U.S. because those people rightfully claim they're Americans too. In Spanish, the word estadounidense clarifies that the person is from the U.S.A. I propose that the much derided term "U.S. Americans" (pioneered by Miss South Carolina) be embraced to classify U.S. citizens because it removes ambiguity in a globalized world and because it sounds much more natural than UnitedStatsian.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Footage from the Mother's Day festivities
Mayatan School's 4th Grade directed by Meesters Michael and Allan after weeks of planning, writing, tryouts, instruction, and tireless rehersal proudly presents:
The Mother's Day Stomp Clap.
The group was comprised of about 18 "stomp clappers"/chanters, 4 bottles, 2 "1-3" sticks, and 1 "2-4" bamboo. The numbers in quotations refer to the number in the count (1-2-3-4) on which they strike their instrument. This was definitely the first time most of these students have had to really focus on rhythm and counting, so I feel very justified in having scrapped handwriting (extremely boring) for this EDUCATIONAL event (fun).
We planned to have more instrumentalists in each section, but the day of the event, some of the students who had been practicing those instruments told us very nonchalantly that they we're not coming to the show. Michael and I tried our best to make them feel bad for such irresponsibility and actually got some of them to show up. Also, the bottle players were beating pieces of broom sticks against empty 5 gallon water jugs on the count "4-and". We put them behind the group of chanters with me (because they were so loud/needed special direction), so sadly, we are not visible in the video.
I thought it turned out quite nice. The best part though might be Luis Gustavo. He's the short boy, front and center who can't keep a beat (let alone singing while doing it) to save his life. But he does add a cuteness factor.
Later, as the celebrations were winding down, Michael and I accompanied Hernan (the secondary students' music teacher and M.C. for the event) in a very emotional song about a girl telling her mother she doesn't want to go to school because she was raped, and the school children would make fun of her. Her mother then tells her the same thing happened to her when she was a child (I think).
(sorry for the long intro in the video- just skip ahead to where we start playing)
The Mother's Day Stomp Clap.
The group was comprised of about 18 "stomp clappers"/chanters, 4 bottles, 2 "1-3" sticks, and 1 "2-4" bamboo. The numbers in quotations refer to the number in the count (1-2-3-4) on which they strike their instrument. This was definitely the first time most of these students have had to really focus on rhythm and counting, so I feel very justified in having scrapped handwriting (extremely boring) for this EDUCATIONAL event (fun).
We planned to have more instrumentalists in each section, but the day of the event, some of the students who had been practicing those instruments told us very nonchalantly that they we're not coming to the show. Michael and I tried our best to make them feel bad for such irresponsibility and actually got some of them to show up. Also, the bottle players were beating pieces of broom sticks against empty 5 gallon water jugs on the count "4-and". We put them behind the group of chanters with me (because they were so loud/needed special direction), so sadly, we are not visible in the video.
I thought it turned out quite nice. The best part though might be Luis Gustavo. He's the short boy, front and center who can't keep a beat (let alone singing while doing it) to save his life. But he does add a cuteness factor.
Later, as the celebrations were winding down, Michael and I accompanied Hernan (the secondary students' music teacher and M.C. for the event) in a very emotional song about a girl telling her mother she doesn't want to go to school because she was raped, and the school children would make fun of her. Her mother then tells her the same thing happened to her when she was a child (I think).
(sorry for the long intro in the video- just skip ahead to where we start playing)
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Haqpy Mother’s Day!
To Mom, Momma, Ging-Ging, and Meemaw:
We hope you know how much we love you even though we cannot be with you on Mother's Day! We are so thankful for you and the life you gave to us! Thanks for your continued support, love and encouragement! We love you! :)
and a very special happy 97th birthday to Ging-Ging! WOW!
and a very special FIRST mother’s day to my favorite sisters-in law :) Thanks for making me an aunt :)
Saturday, May 8, 2010
More Birthdays!
I don’t think it is common in the States to be invited to your students birthday—but here it is the norm! (and I like it!)
Here are some snippets from our most recent birthdays :)
Allan, Michael (other 4th grade teacher), and some of the 4th graders at Angie’s Disney Princess birthday party. That was the Cinderella piñata before she got torn apart with a stick.
One of my students, Carmen (left-side) invited me to her birthday party at Tun-Club. It was fun to hang out with some 
Funny story from the night: Before the piñata, Gandhi and Manuel were fighting and I said “Boys, lets not fight.” (like a good teacher would!) Gandhi said with a smile “Mees, we aren’t in school, you can’t tell us to stop.” He was kidding (well kinda!) and it made me laugh. About 3 minutes later, Manuel was bothering Gandhi and Gandhi said “MEES!! MEES!!!” (like he wanted me to help him.) I said “Gandhi, we aren’t in school, I can’t tell him to stop!” and it made him laugh :) Got ‘em!
So we have told you before that birthdays are a big deal here—if you have money. 
Well, Beto (Allan’s old student and a friend whom we have blogged about a lot ) turned 13 about 2 weeks ago and we got to be apart of planning his birthday celebration—a day at the POOL! YAY! Beto is such a special boy. He works really hard for his family and genuinely loves them. We (and his other gringo friends!) thought he deserved a grand birthday celebration to celebrate his life!
The party was great. His whole family came. We had pizza, cake, coke, and even pool toys! The boys were so fun to watch play in the pool. They just loved it! and it was so fun to play with them too (minus the splashing!) Below are some pictures. I couldn’t chose :)
This is Victor, Beto’s littlest brother. He would not get off of the float!
This is Marlon, Beto’s 2nd youngest brother. He is in the 3rd grade at Mayatan and a smart little sucker.
No fear! Marlon diving in, pool noodles and all!
Ya queremos pastel! Birthday Cake time! Look at that smile!
Victor has the BIGGEST sweet tooth I have ever seen. He does not resist food, especially sweets! He was so excited for cake, he didn’t even take off his floaties!
Beto got a little messy eating cake :) and check out his new swim-trunks we were able to give to him thanks to some donations from my aunt’s 5th grade class!
It was fun to get to spend the afternoon with this family! Allan especially loved it…I mean, check out that face!
Extra-curricular Activities—Mayatan Style
We had been hearing talk of a “Gymnastic Event” for months. They told us about it in teacher’s meetings, I heard the 6th-9th grade teachers talking about their students practicing for this event, and every Wednesday afternoon outside of my classroom, I had the pleasure of listening to LOUD 8-9 second snippets from every currently popular pop song while the teams practiced for this event.
Even with all of this, I could never have imagined the event would have been like this. Saturday afternoon—hundreds of people, decorations, outfits, balloons, food, music, prizes, the whole sha-bang.
I was really impressed actually! There were 3 groups from Mayatan and 2 groups from the public schools in Copan and Santa Rite who had prepared “gymnastic routines” (also known as dances) to perform for judges and parents. They did a really good job! I guess all those Wednesday afternoon’s of “apple bottom jeans, jeans, boots with the fur….that tonight’s gonna be a good, good night…..you spin my head right round, right round…” paid off!
My favorite part of the whole event was Dayana and Yelsi! I love these little girls! They are just so precious!
Third time’s a charm!
I have always heard that phrase and our little 7 dollar grill proved it to be true!
Grill attempt 1---complete fail because we did not have enough “ocote” (kindling type things) and the grill lacked holes to let the air in. Therefore, fire died quickly and we ended up grilling over the gas fire in the kitchen—bad idea. The chicken ended up in the trash because it tasted like gas.
Grill attempt 2—Allan spent 30 minutes drilling about 16 holes into the sides of the grill and another 30 lighting the coals, lighting the coals, and lighting the coals. At about 8:00 we finally enjoyed our chicken dinner-- cooked in a pan on the stove. :(
Grill attempt 3— I had been unable to find ocote in the market, therefore hindering our ability to use the grill. It would be too hard to just 
light the coals on fire. :) but one day we were going to have Beto (Allan’s old student) and his family over for a North American meal—Hamburgers and chips :) We needed that grill! So I went in search of ocote (which from what people had previously shown me, were little pieces of natural kindling that comes from Pine trees). Well, I found it. and it was a HUGE piece of wood! It turns out that people buy this 70cent piece of wood and chop it up into tiny sticks--which is what people had been showing me. Luckily my roommate had just bought a machete :) and Allan was able to chop up pieces small enough to fit in our little grill! YAY!
We still had to get it lit however. A great thing about living in a small place is that you know a lot of people and people are really willing to help you. And fortunately I live across from a restaurant named “grilled.” We had told Jose, your friendly neighborhood waiter, about our problems with the grill and he told us that the next time we want to grill, to bring the grill over to the restaurant and he would give us hot coals from their grill! Did that make grilling a ton easier or what? We had the ocote and hot coals…a guaranteed success!
Our friend Francisco came to eat dinner and helped Allan out with the grilling, flipping, and fanning of the grill.
The burgers (Aunt Sharon style!) turned out pretty good and I think the boys enjoyed a N. American meal :)
and now we have enough ocote to last 4 years!
This was no Ocean Isle
For my birthday, Allan and I tried to go to the beach. Emphasis on tried. We packed up bags with books and a frisbee for a fun afternoon at the beach, lathered up on sunscreen, and headed towards the water.
This is what we found. Thousands of people—I’m talking Emerald Point Wave Pool style—except these people just jumped in in whatever clothing they had on. There was no space to leave any bag on the sand, so they just got in the ocean with everything they had brought to the beach. Allan and I were in astonishment. We just sat and watched, mouth opened, at the craziness that was happening around us.
Needless to say, we didn’t have the relaxing afternoon at the beach we had packed for. We didn’t even get in the water, or sit down anywhere, but that’s ok, cause we did learn a valuable lesson—Do not go to Honduran beaches during Semana Santa!
Friday, May 7, 2010
Video’s from my parent’s visit!
My kids performed on Folklore day! Aren’t they cute?
A video from the volcano!!!
Man, those kids loved the balloon swords!
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