Petros y los Hijos de Tío Sam

A transient tourist strolling the warmly lighted, cobblestone streets of Copan Ruinas on any given Saturday evening might expect to hear distant mariachi and ranchera tunes amid the conversations between street vendors and other tourists. However, this pleasant dappling of music was not to be found on the last weekend in January, for a burgeoning trio called “Petros y los Hijos de Tío Sam” (Pedro and the Son’s of Uncle Sam) were blasting music so loudly out of the bar on the corner that people moved outside just to listen comfortably.

(Yeah, I know I’m playing bass with a pick. )

After their debut, the group was invited to play at several other local venues. Throughout the month of February, the three played literally for their dinner. The rich, authentic platos tipícos flowed through their veins as they recreated the not-so-authentic Latino Pop music that has come to define their style. Behind the grungy belting of unrequited or lost love, the steady, high frequency crunch of the electric guitar strains for equal temperament. The capricious bass completes the lower sonic spectrum with ornaments and syncopation to complement the driving yet adventurous and delightful drumming. (Pedro plays through his iMac Pro, which also dubs as his lyrics cheat sheet. )

Maybe because of the Pedro's Copan connections or the scarcity of musicians in general (but not because of their originality or arrangements), the band has continually grown in popularity among the businesses and the locals to the point that they have been invited to play on the grand stage in el Parque Central during the Annual Fair (La Feria). The show will start around 8:00 PM HT (Honduran time, which means add 30 minutes to an hour) on March 21.

This performance will not only be a major step forward in the growing history of this nascent group but will also be crucial for its future. One person attending the show will be listening to see if PHTS should be offered a contract to play for parties and events sponsored by the National Beer Company all over the region. The group has also been given the green light to play at a relatively large university bar in Chiquimula, Guatemala, in early April without even having heard the band play!

An Experience in Local Primary Care

Not a good way to start a 5 day week of school:

Starting around 1 AM Monday morning, I (Allan) woke up and was unable to fall back asleep because of stomach pain, a headache, and general discomfort. I tossed and turned for hours in my hot, dark room listening to the roosters starting to celebrate Matins, as they do every day. Falling back asleep at this point was a futile endeavor because my skin had become sensitive that even my sheets felt like they were conspiring against me. After a few visits to the bathroom, I knew this wouldn't just blow over. During one of those visits I think the Sumerian god Gozer conjured up exactly what had "popped" in my mind at that very moment because seated upon the toilet, I glanced into my shower, noting that a black spot that I had seen just hours before was no longer there. As soon as that thought had drifted away to make room for more pressing issues, I felt a small cucaracha crawling on my leg. In my 4 AM stupor, I clumsily missed my chance of ending his "short, pointless" life of terrorism, and he scurried under the closed bathroom door into my darkened room to haunt me for the few remaining hours I had.

Poorly rested and somewhat nauseated, at 6:13 AM I climbed onboard the bus headed to Mayatan. Luckily for me, Mondays are my easiest days of the week because my students have several "specials" like an assembly, P.E., and library. At school, I learned that Michael was taking a sick day because he was suffering similar symptoms but to a greater degree. I survived Monday fairly well and napped as soon as I could get to my bed. Well, right before closing my eyes for a wonderful afternoon siesta, I noticed a black spot in one of the far corners of my ceiling. Abby identified the spot as nothing less than the little, spontaneously generated cockroach from the night before. I took a stick and pushed him so hard into that corner hoping he'd never come out. Well, quite literally, he may never come out. I tried to remove his remains with the stick and then a towel, but they had somehow adhered permanently to the wall. I left him there because I didn't have the strength and also because I liked the message he sent about cockroaches in my room.

The next day, I felt a great deal better and decided to go visit the doctor after school. I probably just had some bad food that my body had cleared, but because I like certainty more than probability, I decided to visit the local doctor. Michael had symptoms that made some people suspicious of Giardiasis, and since we had eaten the same meal on Saturday night (free food for the band!), I wanted a some sort of test to rule this out. I went to a local doctor thathad been recommended to me earlir, who seemed to have quite a bit of extra time. I walked in, told the receptionist that I wanted a consult, and waited about 1 minute before the doctor was getting my history in his office. I told him my suspicions, but he didn't seem to pay them much heed. He then gave me a very cursory physical exam in which he checked my pupil reflex rather extensively and swung my legs back and forth for a few minutes.

At the end of the consult, he said very little about what he observed or what he thought might be my ailment, but he did assure me he would give me some pills. He offered no explanation of what the pills were or what they did; he just told me to buy them from his own pharmacy in the front. (Maybe it wasn't until after the physical that he really started "pulling my leg.") This, I've found, is definitely a common trait in the Honduran idea of medicine: if you go to the doctor because you feel ill, you will receive a medication of some sort, and most commonly it will be an injection. I don't know how this requirement came about.

Maybe they haven't been taught about the placebo effect, or maybe the doctors just capitalize on it. Maybe the doctors will be ridiculed if they admit that they can't find a problem, or maybe doctors think that incorrect, unnecessary, or over medication is better than none. Anyways, after perusing the internet to find the actual chemicals in these Honduran-brand pills, I saw that he had given me trimethoprim and ranitidine. The former is an antibiotic, but he gave me a somewhat antiquated form of it called co-trimoxazole in which it is mixed with a sulfonamide antibiotic. First off, this drug has been used mostly for urinary tract infections, but also this mixture of antibiotics was restricted in the U.S. in 1995 because of bad side effects and toxic effects to bone marrow. On top of that, the combination was not proven to have any extra benefit in general clinical use. The other drug he gave was basically Zantac, which helps reduce stomach acid.

I did not use either drug for obvious reasons, and by Wednesday, I was feeling normal. I'm not positive I don't have a parasite (though I doubt it), but I hear the lab in town is even worse than the doctors (I didn't know that the lab was a completely separate entity before I spent 5% of my monthly stipend, i.e. $15, on the drugs and the consult). I think I'll just stay away from the doctor as much as possible until we come home.

La Pintada visit

Two of my students, Kensy and Milton, live outside of Copan in a small village called La Pintada. They walk over an hour to catch a bus to bring them to school in the morning and then walk home, up hill, another hour in the afternoons. I just cannot imagine. They are brilliant students and just precious children.

(this is Kensy and her Brother, Jeremias. You can see their house in the background. Milton is in the picture with me below.)

    

Allan and I decided to go up to La Pintada one weekend for a visit. It was so much fun. We found Kensy first, playing outside her “house” with her brother. We invited her to come with us to find Milton. She took us to where Milton lives. It was quite a sight. Upon arriving, two of Milton’s younger siblings (who were naked and shoeless) began crying at the sight of us. Milton’s house is mud. He’s roof is sticks. That is where he sleeps. That is where he eats. That is where he lives. Him and his 10 siblings. Kensy is also very poor, but is from one of the richer families in La Pintada, meaning her house is made of mud, with a tin roof. Wow.

Milton was also eager to play, so we all walked to the “campo” (field), to start a game of soccer. We knew many more kids would join if they saw a glimpse of a soccer game or anything that looked similar.

Milton played the whole game in soccer shoes that were just ridiculous. But at least he had shoes. Many kids were playing barefoot.

(You may be able to see Milton’s toes sticking out of his shoes in this picture of him hanging onto the goal but we also tried to take a picture of just his feet below!)

I was just reminded how amazingly blessed I am and how much I have. How I have way too many shoes. I stop wearing shoes because I don’t like the way they look, but Milton wears ones that should have been thrown away about 3 years ago. They still have soles though, so he will wear them.  I had so much toys and balls growing up. and good ones. We played soccer with a dented plastic soccer ball.

It was so fun to be with those kids. They are just so joyful and content, but at the same time, I see something deeper in their eyes. I love it when I get the precious gift of seeing them smile. It is such a great thing to get to teach Milton and Kensy and get to go and visit them at  home.

We were talking about what we wanted to be when we grow up in class 2 weeks ago and Kensy told  me she wants to be a teacher so she can teach all the children that don’t know how to read, how to read. Wow.

more SPIDERS!

I walk to Allan’s house every morning to catch the bus. Normally I arrive, knock gently on the door, or wait until the boys come out of the house for the bus.

On this particular morning, I noticed as I was approaching the house that the door was already opened, and it looked like Allan was sweeping.

Well he was. He was sweeping the biggest spider ever out of his HOUSE. It was HUGE. and scary. and ugly. It still gives me the creeps.  Where did it come from? How did it get in? All frightful questions that remain unanswered.

Unexpected explosion!

It was a regular Friday night. One of my friends here in Copan, Judy, was over teaching me how to make pizza dough (she’s an amazing cook!). We had made the dough, the sauce, shredded the cheese, and cut up the vegetables for toppings. All we needed to do was turn on the oven to get it hot so we could cook the pizza after the dough rose.

That’s when it happened.

Praise the Lord for long-stemmed matches or else I might have lost a hand instead of a few arm hairs. I bent down to light our gas stove and BOOM. A huge explosion of fire, gas, loud noises, and screams. Pots fell off the wall. The oven moved about 3 inches from the wall. The stove toppers flew off. Crazyness. Allan was stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove, and somehow the pot stayed on the stove and Allan was unharmed!  

It was super scary and we all kind of shook of nervousness the next 10  minutes, but thank the Lord it was not worse. Seriously. Needless to say, we didn’t eat pizza that night. 

Learning how to read

One of the first people I remember seeing in Honduras was this little boy selling jewelry on the street. He looked to about 10-12 years old. I felt so bad telling him no. He looked poor. He was young. But I still didn’t want to buy anything from him.

Well, about 4 months later, this little boy, Jose, showed up at my house with my roommate Sierra and her boyfriend. Jose is really good friends with her boyfriend and lives at his house with him because Jose’s family lives in an aldea (village) about 30 minutes out of town. Jose works making and selling jewelry to tourists and send all the money back to his family. He is 14 years old.

Recently, Sierra found out the Jose does not know how to read. He asked me to read a text message to him the other day. I thought “that’s weird” but then quickly remember that he doesn’t know how to read. What a thing I take for granted…to know how to read! Sierra decided to teach Jose how to read…and it has been so cool for me to get to watch!

Just last week, he wrote it name for the first time. He was SO proud! Just thinking about it now gives me the goose-bumps! I almost cried when I saw it. He is learning his alphabet and is just loving it. He is eager to learn. I am so thankful for Sierra and her willingness to help Jose. Its so cool.

I would love for y’all to pray for Jose. He is at my house a lot and I want to be able to love this little boy like Jesus would. He is not completely an orphan, but almost and I want to be able to stand behind one of my favorite verses in the Bible in a literal way.  James 1:27 “ A religion that is pure and stainless according to God the Father is this: to take care of orphans and widows who are suffering, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”

Jose just told me today that he cannot sell jewelry on the streets anymore. They are starting to charge 600 lempiras (30 dollars) and he cannot afford that. He also told me that he would like to go to school. :) So cool.

End of the quarter trip!

One of my favorite things about the end of the quarter is the teacher work day that accompanies it! Last Friday, we had a teacher work day and got to leave school at 12…which means that we can make it down the hill to catch a bus and travel for the weekend!

So last weekend, 12 of us teachers piled on a bus, headed to 6 different locations! Allan and I, along with our friends Michael (the amazing Jazz drummer!) and Eileen set off for Tela, a tiny beach town here in Honduras.

There was not much to do there except eat some street food, hang out on the beach, play in the ocean (which was especially fun because Michael and Eileen are from in-land USA and have only seen the ocean 2 or 3 times!) drink coconut milk straight from a coconut, and eat some delicious seafood, but it was great to get away and relax with some friends. I just feel blessed to get to travel so cheaply to other parts of Honduras. Its such a cool perk of working/volunteering here!

The beaches in Tela were pretty run down, but also beautiful in a way. They used to export bananas from here so there was a long, run down pier with train tracks. It was pretty cool.

  This is our friend Mario that was selling coconuts on the beach. He told us that he is in the 2nd grade. It was crazy to think about my students selling coconuts on the beach to help their families. Also crazy to see a 2ng grader handle a machete. :) So we happened upon this car that appeared to be made completely out of junk parts from other old cars. It was totally bizarre…and also bizarre that it is probably completely legal to drive this car around town!  The hostel where we stayed had the highest roof in Tela and proved to be a great place to watch the sunset :)

Back to school on Monday….. :)

Grill Fail #2

We thought we had the problem solved.

After talking with the people who grill corn on the street corner for a living and the people who own the local “Asados (grilled) Copan” for grilling tips, I thought for sure we were going to have grilled chicken for dinner. Both people gave me pieces of this wood called “ocote” that they use to start their fires, which lead to delicious food.

We had also decided that it would be a good idea to drill holes in the grill for more air ventilation. So Allan carefully drilled 16 holes in the grill. He had to do it in his house, because outdoor plugs are hard to come by here. At least he wore eye-gear!

Well, the holes did seem to help, but sadly enough, we did not have enough ocote to catch on fire. The experts told me I needed a good heep of it, but the man who sells it in town had already closed down his store, so we were forced to use the small amount that the corn-man donated to us. Oh well! I think we are getting close!

Third times a charm…I hope!

Helping Haiti

I have never been much of a news reader/watcher and being in Honduras has made me even less aware of the happenings in the world. Allan sent me a email on Wednesday of a news article about Google. I tried to open up the link from nytimes.com, but it was luckily it was unsuccessful…and instead took me to the nytimes homepage revealing the sadness, destruction, chaos that has occurred in Haiti. I was amazed. I honestly do not know if I have ever seen pictures such as the ones I have been seeing since Wednesday. Honduran newspapers are not afraid to publish gory, bloody pictures (and maybe they are publishing these in the USA papers too, I don’t know!) and these pictures have continued to astonish me. I immediately wanted to do something to help these people. I just cannot imagine everything I know being taken from me, my family killed/injured, my home demolished, my city streets un-walkable, the hospital ruined, no power, no water….and the list continues. and I certainly cannot imagine a city/town having to recover from destruction like that, or the disease that is going to follow such a terrible disaster. I tried to imagine if something like that happened in Copan, what would the people do? It breaks my heart to think that the people in Haiti are similar to the people in Copan in terms of wealth, and just the devastation and long, long road that is ahead of them. I have questioned the Lord a lot this week on why this happened to Haiti? One of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere. They already had SO little…and why this now? It just doesn’t make sense. But today, I was journaling and the Lord just reminded me that He is exactly that…the Lord. and He is in control. He knows those people. He feels for those people. He loves those people so incredibly much.

I am praying for Haiti. It doesn’t seem like much to do, when so much physical help is needed. I wanted to leave Copan and go and help, but then I realized that I cannot do that. The Lord has me here, but I can help from here. My class and I have talked everyday about Haiti and the earthquake there. My students and I started a “Helping Haiti” fund, and the kids are giving me their left over lunch money so I can donate it to the RedCross or some other organization that has people on the ground helping those people. I have been so proud of my students and their willingness to give.

I also read in the paper this morning about all of the countries that have joined together to help Haiti. It does excite me to see some many countries, so many different cultures, so many different languages coming together to help the poor and needy. I love that people can unite.  I am praying for the doctors, for the doctors families, for the nurses, firemen, people in the government, and the other mounds of people that are there helping. Most of all, I am praying that the Lord shines through this disaster and people come to know Him through it. Pray with me.

Isaiah 61:4     “They shall build up the ancient ruins; they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations. Strangers shall stand and tend your flocks (people), foreigners shall be your plowmen and vinedressers (doctors and nurses, etc.!)…therefore in their land, they shall possess a double portion, they shall have everlasting joy! For I the Lord love justice…I will faithfully give them their recompense, and will make an everlasting covenant with them".”

Smiles in 2 suitcases

Packing and luggage are such a pain. I, for one, hate to pack. I always wait until the last minute (right, mom?) and always try to fit way too many things into one bag. And paying for luggage on airplanes? Terrible. The rules are always changing, the allowed-poundage is always changing. Now people are just starting to bring suitcases as “carry-ons.”  I did not want to bring a bag back with me when I came back from Christmas. I packed a HUGE one leaving Copan full of things to leave in the States. I told Allan I was doing it so I would have less luggage to deal with when our time was up in Copan and plus “I’m leaving all of this stuff…so I won’t have a bag when we come back after Christmas!”…………….well……

About a month before Christmas I emailed my family and told them about this family with 5 sons and one mom. All of the boys go to Mayatan. They are in the 8th, 4th, 3rd, 3rd, and 1st grade. The ones in 4th, 3rd, and 1st grade are all almost the same height. Their mother works at Mayatan as a house cleaner. She cleans my classroom everyday. She gets to school early in the morning, and stays later than us, cleaning. She makes less than half of what we make a month…and has to feed 5 boys. They live in a 3 room house (kitchen and 2 rooms.) They also live with their grandfather. The boys don’t wear shoes. Allan teaches one of the boys (“Beto”), and this boy just adores Allan. He stays after school every day in Allan’s classroom talking with Allan and not letting Allan get anything done :). Allan doesn’t mind though, which is why I think this boy loves Allan. One day Beto didn’t come to school, which we later found out was because his shoes were broken and they couldn’t afford to buy more shoes. I emailed my family asking them to gather clothes, shoes, anything really that I could maybe bring back for this family. What showed up AMAZED ME!

My mom emailed my email to my Aunt Sharon, who teaches 5th grade at a school in NC. She told her class and WOW. The piles of clothes, underwear, shoes, socks, pants, blankets, etc. that showed up at my house left my breathless.

So much for not taking a suitcase back….and so much for only taking one suitcase back! All of the clothes were too much to fit into two huge suitcases! WOW! I had to leave some of it behind for my parents to bring in March! I have never been so excited to pack a suitcase. I actually started packing it 3 days early!

Delivering the suitcases was an unreal experience. I had to fight off tears about 4 or 5 times. The boys just kept pulling things out of the suitcases, showing me, showing Allan, showing their mom. They were so excited, so proud to have something new. They were so pumped about socks and underwear! Can you imagine? They kept trying on the shirts and pants…over their old ones! The oldest held up a pink polo shirt and said “I’m going to look sexy!” That made me laugh. It was just so awesome to get to be apart of that. I bet the boys have had some new things in their life, but I think it has been a long while. It was just so awesome. The next Monday, Marlon came to school in his new turtleneck, Memo came to school in his new shoes and, the youngest, Victor, showed me his new socks at school…accompanied by a huge smile! It was awesome.

So thank you so much to those of you who donated clothes, or anything. These boys were so excited. Seriously. I wish I could fully explain it and I wish each one of you could have been there to experience it. I left their house on cloud nine and in amazement of our Lord and how he does provide.  Thank you so much for your willingness to love others that you do not even know. Thank you for being the light of Christ for those boys and their mom.

James 1: 27 “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”

Opening the suitcases for the first time!

Check out those hot new shirts! Pants?? REALLY! YAY!   Shoes…no way! (by the way….this boy had come to my house the day before without shoes on…walking on dirt, rocks, and who knows what else through the town….so thankful they fit him!)     Sitting in the suitcases without new shoes…. Sitting in the suitcase with his new flip-flops!   Like my turtleneck?   The whole gang…looking “sexy”   Beto with his new boxers…on his head!    This is the “sexy” shirt! Putting on his new socks!   Check out that gear!   The whole gang again!