Here I raise my Ebenezer...

Things Not Normally Seen in My Januaries

2012-01-17T07:21:00.000-08:00

I'm not gonna lie, Daddy misses his Hondie and as a result I've been loathe to come here too much and post. This is a blog about Honduras afterall. Girlfriend's been keeping me abreast of events as they transpire and been providing plenty of photos but there just hasn't been a whole lot to post here since Christmas.

So I as I began looking over the few photos that I do have, I was struck with all of these events and people that I would not be a part of were that I in Honduras as I normally am this time of year. That's not really wholly consolling, I would prefer to be South of the Border right now, nevertheless I've felt blessed by the following:

my sister megan and my grandma.

ok, maybe not them exclusively, rather family more generally.

i've missed them.

kent (with kai) & jordan (with harrison)

turns out all of my friends have children...and wives too

we got together, those two families, along with the meckbach's and o'dwyer's this past sunday

little daniel meckbach (evelyn) with big daniel meckbach

kent's wife joelyn with son kai

this is not terribly special

it could be found in honduras as well, i'm sure

i just liked it

been doing some swim coaching

for the first time in years

not diving though

or guitar playing

just swimming

wanda fox

my grandma's cousin

i love that old bird

Kevin

2012-01-03T17:50:00.000-08:00

Girlfriend wrote me this:

A sad end of the year in Los Laureles. Kevin, just 9 years old, was called home to Jesus to be in his arms. His passing this 31st of December left a great space in our hearts, we lost one of the most special children that we have come to know in this community. He suffered from hydrocephaly but during his short life he never presented a serious abnormality other than slight learning disabilaties. When he was 8 years old he had an accident at school and hit his head on pavement; this incident caused his family to stop ignoring his problem and the delicate state that he was in. Medical attention was sought and the doctors determined that he needed an operation as soon as possible. The family was too poor be able to afford the operation and hospital stay but with the help of the community, the Mennonite Church and various missionaries the money was raised and an operation for Kevin achieved. In the beginning he recovered well from the surgery but he had another fall, began losing his sight and his memory, and eventually needed 3 more operations. This past Thursday was his 4th and final surgery, from which he was only able to resist one day, passing then Saturday in the Morning. Kevin was known as a loving and sweet child and above all recognized for his love for Jesus. He was beloved by the community of Los Laureles and treated kindly by the other children there. After much suffering though he is finally resting in the presence of our Lord. We petition your prayers for strength for his family and especially for his mother who is taking this terribly.

Christmas Eve in Laureles

2012-01-03T13:07:00.000-08:00

So, I know I've been a little lax around here as of late and it's not been for lack of stories or photos, Girlfriend has been emailing them to me by the gigabyte. The week from Christmas to New Year's though proved to be one filled with family, friends and cheer and so I decided to wait until activity around the Keiser house had died down. It's dead here now. The following then is how youth from the Mennonite Church and some families from Los Laureles spent Christmas Eve Day as recounted by Girlfriend:
This Christmas Eve, thanks to various donors, we were able to share food provisions with some of the families of the community of Los Laureles.

Amor Viviente Church (a church related to the Honduran Mennonite Church) donated Christmas dinners to us that included food and gifts for the children. Amor Viviente asked us to choose between 80-100 families of the poorest in the community to receive this gift, it was a job that gave us some mixed emotions. It took the youth from the Mennonite Church along with the pastor, one week to go from house to house, taking down information in order to determine which families truly needed this gift. Which left me with the questions: "Who are we to determine who has more need?" - "With right do I determine who is the poorest?", certainly not the exhaustion that resulted from the task neither did the time we put in give this right. I was just left with a feeling of sadness thaat we couldn't afford to help all the families in the community.

The census that the 2011 YES Team completed here in Los Laureles came up with 396 families and I was asked to choose 80 to be the beneficiaries. We began working by visiting the most humble dwellings and without realizing it I soon had 113 households on the list.

I talked with the Amor Viviente Church and after much discussion they agreed to donate 113 packets.

The day we had to distribute the tickets to the families we selected.

With these tickets they were able to board a bus on the 24th that would take them to Amor Viviente to receive their packet.

Only those on the list were able to receive tickets.

While their motherss were wwaiting to hear their name called, the children entertained themselves.

Content, those that received tickets.

The 24th arrived, once again we checked our list and retrieved tickets from the people before they could board the bus.

We then headed to Amor Viviente to hand out the packets.

Juan Carlos "Chino" asking the Pastor to take him along.

Hopeful looks.

Arriving at Amor Viviente Church.

The XY Radio Station from the City of La Ceiba, just like last year, supported us this Christmas by donating tamales for the children (tamal: is a typical honduran Christmas food that consists of a cornmeal mash with meat inside. They're delicious and eveeryone except Matt loves them). The radio asked its listeners to donate tamales to the station for redistribution to La Ceiba's neediest families. Thanks to the donors and to a friend who helped get the children of Los Laureles on their list we were also able to distribute tamales to some of the children there.

Signs of the Season

2011-12-14T10:47:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've seen something like this...

and when I got EMM's Christmas Card in my email I noticed some familiar faces.

Click on the link and see if you can name all of the Laureles-related folk bringing you International Yuletide Cheer.

Eastern Mennonite Missions' Christmas Greeting

Another Laureles Happening

2011-12-09T19:48:00.000-08:00

So the other day I told Girlfriend that I needed some photos from Laureles so that I could update the blog. Yesterday the youth from the Mennonite Church trekked out to Los Laureles to have Bible School with the little children there; apparently it was an impressive Bible School because she emailed me the following this morning:

In the Spanish-speaking countries the tradition of Christmas gifts is somtheing that is mainly represented and linked to the Child Jesus and The Wise Men - Santa is known and growing in popularity but tradition says that gifts come from the former. Curiously though in this past week's Bible lesson not one child mentioned the Child Jesus and much less, The Wise Men when I asked them about Christmas and our reasons for celebrating it.

Some of their responses were as follows:

- Christmas is for setting off fireworks and rockets (very good observation)

- Christmas means that the fairy godparents bring gifts to the children. ("fairy godparents"? Do they mean the Wise Men?)

- Saint Nicholas, who lives in the U.S.A., comes to Honduras to throw out gifts to the children from his sleigh in the air. (Santa is an American? He tosses them to children from 2000 ft. up in the air?)

- The Americans bring us gifts.

- Christmas is for parents to get drunk.

- Christmas is when we have new clothing.

- Christmas is when the Devil comes to carry off all the bad children.

After all of these glorious answers I asked them:

"What about Jesus?"

They answered, "Oh, he's good and he takes care of us."

"That's right," I said "but what does Jesus have to do with Christmas?"

One of them answered me: "Well, God gives gifts to Jesus at Christmas because he is his father."

Hearing all of this I decided that we would need the entire month to teach these children about the birth of Jesus and what it means for us...definitely the entire month.

When I showed them this scene, our cute little Ronald turned to his seat-mate and said: "I told you that angels could fly!"

Here the children shouted that Jesus' Fairy Godparents had come to visit.

At the sight of this scene I had one little interrogator ask me incredulously: "And the cows didn't eat the baby Jesus?"

All good friends coloring away.

Ronald decided to go independent, as he always does.

"I finished coloring, can I leave now?"

Ever took this photo, he was annoyed because the other children didn't let him take a normal photo without them interjecting; this was the only one that came out mildly well.

Well then, that was our Christmas lesson for the week.

Dispatches From Afar

2011-11-29T09:49:00.000-08:00

Some of you may have been wondering why my posts have been so few and far between these past few weeks, and in that October, November and December tend to be some of my most prolific months in terms of blog posts, your wonderment would be well-placed. Well that's because I've been here:

in the rolling mountains and valleys of Central Pennsylvania

hunting wild animals to survive the Winter

Ok, not exactly.

Since just before Thanksgiving I've been in Pennsylvania and I expect to be here at least until the end of January. A month ago Eastern Mennonite Missions, my home congregation and I began talking about the future, about the work in Los Laureles thus far and about how to best serve the community there while at the same time being the best stewards of the resources entrusted to us that we can. It was decided upon by all of us that it would be best that I take a short sabbatical for a time of rest, renewal and discernment for the future direction of our work in Los Laureles. That means that for the weeks ahead I will be in meetings both in Lancaster and at Frazer Mennonite Church and also spending time with my family in Williamsport. To be honest, I'm happy to be here - I knew I needed a break, renewal, a time for re-focusing, but was unsure of how to suggest it. I'm excited to be here with my family for the holidays, it's been a long time since I've spent Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's with them. I miss Los Laureles terribly, I miss my kids, the life there; at the same time I know that this time of rest and refocus is essential if I want to best serve the community, if I want to faithfully follow God as he leads in the unfolding of the work there.

Regardless of my location over the next months I will be blogging both about my time here and what's happening in Los Laureles. This past Saturday the elementary school there celebrated the 6th grade graduation of 32 students. In years past the majority of those students would have immediately begun working or looking for spouses as 12-15 year olds; 2 years ago we began offering scholarships to some of the graduates so that they might continue their education in a private, Christian high school and thus give opportunity to break the cyclical povverty so endemic in that community. The first year there were 15 graduates and we were able to offer scholarships to 7, last year there were 12 graduates and we added 7 more scholarships to the existing 7. This year of course with 32 graduates we will have to seriously screen our applicants for the most deserving and needy as we obviously cannot afford to send all 32 to high school. Please be praying for us we go through this process and that funding come in to continue this project.

When I say 'we' I refer mostly to Girlfriend, she's still there, doing a lot of the legwork with the projects in Los Laureles as I'm gone. She, along with some of the youth from the Mennonite Church were there in attendance at the graduation ceremony serving as "Godparents" for some of the graduates. She sent me some photos that she took along with some commentary. This is what she wrote:

This event has been one of the most difficult to be able to take good photos, or even passable photos...

Everyone there interfered in the photos, either in front, behind or to the sides. They all wanted to pose for a shot or at least impede that the photo be taken without them.

Ok, in the end I managed to take a pair (yes, a pair) of normal shots. And here I leave you a few so that you can see little, or almost nothing of what went down.

Just look at the formality of the "President of the Community", worthy of admiration, especially for his age.

Anuar with his Godmother dancing the Waltz

Abel with his Godmother...

This photo was supposed to be of Abel and his mother but Naomi decided to invite herself at the last second.

Anuar with his Godfather, "The Dawg"

(Girlfriend's brother, Rafael)

Lauro with his "Fairly Oddparents"

(as opposed to his Fairy Godparents)

After A While You Can't Even Tell It's A Landfill

2011-11-23T09:52:00.000-08:00

3 Birthdays in 1 Family

2011-11-16T21:34:00.000-08:00

This week the family of Marta is celebrating birthdays 3 times over.

First there was Elvin on Sunday turning 9.

Then Dariana today turned 7.

Finally Carlos, also known as Chihua, turns 16 tomorrow.

We celebrated with cake.

I know I've said it before but I love this family.

They're in constant motion, in their play, in their work, in their squabbling - they're like balls of energy colliding. You never know what you might find when you visit Marta's.

This family truly loves each other.

I like that.

Girlfriend came to celebrate too.

I coaxed her with promises of cake.

She cannot resist cake.

Or me.

Carlos Turns 12

2011-11-14T11:33:00.000-08:00

one of the nicest, politest kids i know

love this one.

Pray for Manuel

2011-11-08T19:34:00.000-08:00

it's not as bad as it looks?

I'd like to think that but I'm not sure. It all began about two weeks ago when he collided with another player on the soccer field. It left him with a sizable knot on his leg that left him in a lot of pain. He's been back working on the garbage trucks for the past month and apparently about a week ago as he was working some garbagey something sliced into his leg right where the soccer injury was. The knot began to grow and ache and while I was gone on an EMM Central American Retreat, someone had the bright idea to cut the knot open. All manner of puss and blood oozed out and this is what we've been dealing with ever since. I have him on antibiotics (amoxycillin) but I'd really like to get in there and scrub this out with iodine and alcohol. I have none though even if I did I doubt he'd let me. Pray though, with his leg like his he can't work on the garbage trucks and we don't want the infection to spread.

To Be Like Children:

2011-11-01T21:44:00.000-07:00

Around the world today childhood is under constant threat from poverty and Honduras is no exception. According to the United Nations’ foundation for childhood (UNICEF), there are 500 million children around the world that live in poverty or, which is practically the same, live without basic necessities. This means that they live without basics such as proper food, housing, schools, clothing, medical attention, toys, etc.

The children of the community of Los Laureles are a fine example of what is happening to children all around the world. Here we find children without a roof or food and where a primary education has become a luxury, let alone a high school education.

I present you with Juan Carlos, better known as “Chinito”, a boy of approximately 8 years of age (an age that I calculate for the maturity of his mind). His mother, wracked by a certain class of schizophrenia, has left him not only without a safe roof to live under but also without proper nutrition and medical care. Chinito is a great example of how education has become an unreachable luxury; at his young age he has not gone to a school and therefore cannot color, does not know his numbers nor the alphabet much less basic reading and writing skills. He instead dedicates himself to passing himself off as a little angel and begging for money from any and all visitors that arrive in the community.

His hand is full of collected bills, while the other children are coloring.

After giving you a superficial introduction to the life of Chinito, I want to share with you the most admirable aspect of his life, and that is, in spite of not having the basic and satisfactory necessities of life, he is a happy child. The majority of the time there is a huge smile on his face (accompanied by insults on certain occasions, but a smile of felicity nonetheless). He doesn’t even have the slightest idea of how poor he truly is because for him, just as with all children here, there does not exist ‘the rich’ and ‘the poor’. They don’t make distinction about anyone; a rich child in the middle of the children of Los Laureles would simply be just another friend with whom to play.

The other day I observed Chinito as well as a group of children of the same age that were playing, having a competition with their cars; cars that they had built out of recycled materials.

For them the competition was something semi-formal; a lot of fun but also very serious. As the French essayists Michel Eyquem said: “Children’s games are not games as such but rather their most serious activities.”

The contestants prepare as the fans arrive.

The public anxiously awaits.

They make their final adjustments.

The drivers board their vehicle.

Finally they're off.

That day I remembered something that I had learned a long time ago and it was the true meaning of the words of Jesus telling us that we should be as children. Children are weak and humble beings, the possess nothing but nevertheless have no ambition, the don’t know envy, they don’t look for the privileged seat nor do they hope to receive honors, they are not rancorous, they have a sincere spirit, they live a happy life without worry, they exist within the simplicity of their own thoughts.

The day of the races there were only 3 cars, nonetheless all the kids wanted to ride. What did they do? They shared with each other until all of the children had a turn. The children of Los Laureles show each day the humble, unselfish and non-malicious persons that they can become; and not because they’re poor rather it’s because, in spite of being poor, they are happy and simply, it’s because they are children.

Matthew 18:3-4 - And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. ⁴ Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

by: Maureen Velásquez (Girlfriend)

Something Different

2011-10-26T20:48:00.000-07:00

I've come to believe that there are two ways of viewing the community of Los Laureles, and poverty-stricken communities more generally (there may be more but thus far I've discovered two). The first way, the most common way, is pity. We see heart-wrenching poverty, disastrously broken lives and seeming hopelessness and the first thing we feel is pity, a sadness, even a feeling of helplessness. Pity's natural, it's a valid emotion, a first response that moves us to reach out and help. I know I felt pity for Los Laureles when I first visited here; I felt pity for La Carpio, a very similar, ghetto-like community on the outskirts of San Jose, Costa Rica, when I first encountered it. Both times I was struck with what my eyes were beholding; the homes built out of scrap metal and wood, half-naked toddlers running through dirt streets, the smells of garbage, black water and decay around every corner, the obvious tooth-and-nail struggle that these families daily live through just to survive. Who wouldn't feel pity in a situation like that? The problem though, and the problem I see so often with North American groups that show up to the community here is that they never allow themselves to move beyond pity to something deeper, something more relational. By holding on to that emotion, by viewing Los Laureles through the lense of pity, they allow themselves to control the situation, to bolster their ego and to not have to invest in or truly know the people that they're helping. How's that you say?

Pity in this context is a top-down response, it condescends from me, who is rich and has his life together, to you, a poor person with a life resembling a train wreck. If I refuse to let go of that emotion I remain in control, I can control how much I know and learn about you and what kind of help I deicide you need. I can feel justified about coming in and out of your life on intervals that I decide and I can control how much you know about my life, if at all. At all times and in every aspect, pity allows us to remain in the driver's seat. Pity bolsters the ego because it sees the most essential and critical response as being something that I can give to you, be that material, monetary or spiritual; it's me giving from my wealth of everything to you who has nothing to offer back anything that I could possibly want. This of course makes us feel good and quite accomplished; we can point to projects, hand-outs, events, even souls as measures of our success and the depth of our kindness. Finally, pity allows us to stay aloof from the actual people we claim to want to help, actually that aloofness is what allows the emotion to exist at all, it's essentially an a priori-type response. In feeling pity we cannot know the people, their gifts, their talents, what they might offer us, their stories or their hopes. Pity can't allow for that because if we do allow ourselves to begin to build co-equal relationships then the paradigm is shattered and the emotion ceases to exist.

I can imagine then you've already figured out what the second resonse to poverty is - relationship building. Not just any type of relationship though, I think our best example of how to move from pity to something deeper is to look to Jesus and his incarnational response to his disciples. He lived with them, ate with them, slept and worked with them. He shared fully of himself both materially and emotionally and expected the same in return. You could say that he didn't exactly need the Disciples, being the Son of God and all, but I would contend that he did. He needed the community, the sanctuary, the help, that they offered. Furthermore, he needed the Disciples to carry on his work and build the Church once he was gone. Was it an equal relationship? Yes and No. No, because obviously Jesus had more to offer in the way of everything - he was their teacher and savior after all. But Yes, because both Jesus and at least 11 of the Disciples gave fully of what they had to the other to build and maintain the relationship. So then, just as with Jesus and the Disciples, our own work with impoverished communities isn't one of equal giving and receiving, no relationship is. Rather it's one of learning about each other, sharing of ourselves with each other, loving each other - and out of that we come to know more fully how to truly help each other from the gifts, abilities and resources that God has bestowed on each of us. That's what it means to be incarnational, that's what it means to move from pity to relationship, that's what it means to follow Jesus' example and love our neighbor.

The following then is a video I made that I think sort of reflects what I've been trying to say. The other evening I was struck to set photos to a song that I really like. Every now and then that happens to me, I like a song and imagine a video that I could create for it, rarely do insipiration and motivation join hands but the other night they did. As I began sorting through photos, I found myself over and over being drawn to happy photos; smiling people, people hugging, people enjoying life, that sort of thing. I could of gone the sad, depressing route (I have plenty of photos like that); when making a video about a community near a garbage dump one might expect such a thing. That though seemed disingenuous, a betrayal of the people here that I've come to know and love, a betrayal of the way they've helped me in every conceivable way, a falsefying of the way I truly view Los Laureles. I did choose to include a few "garbagey" type shots, more though for context and less to pull at the heartstrings; and the opening title shot "life in a garbage dump" is meant to be more ironic than anything else, one doesn't usually expect a photo like the one that follows the title sequence after reading a line like that...that was the point. May I digress slightly for a minute? Los Laureles is not a garbage dump, no one lives amongst piles of trash, very few people even dig through the trash once it has been dumped in the landfill. It was once a community in an actual dump but those days are long over - we now live on a landfill, a very verdant and often muddy landfill. I often feel that calling it a garbage dump gives the wrong impression, is essentially a lie and can even be a let-down, in a twisted sort of way, for people that visit us here. Sorry for the digression, that's something I've been wanting to get off my chest for a while, though I doubt the people that needed to see that also read this blog. So, this has been a disastrously long introduction to a very mundane video so I shan't ramble on any further. Here it is:

By-the-bye, I've been trying to post this for days now but have been unable due to slow connections; I truly loathe Honduran internet. That, anyways, is my reason for a lack of posts these past few days.

Taking Flight

2011-10-20T20:48:00.000-07:00

Samir

from the dead hang

a slight swing

going vertical

take-off

impressive samir, impressive

marta is pleased with her nephew's performance

as we all are

My First Guest Blogger

2011-10-17T20:15:00.000-07:00

cesar "playing" the guitar

Some of you may remember that a few months back one of my favortie serial-visitors made his way down to spend a few days with me and to reconnect with some of the kids he had gotten to know here last year. I wrote about it briefy here in fact. In that post I had asked if he might be interested in offering his own perspective on both his time here and of Los Laureles more generally. I didn't think he'd take me up on the offer as he's a Senior in high school this year and busy with college admissions essays. I underestimated Mr. Jamie Moon and this evening via email, this is what he sent me:

I arrived in San Pedro for the second time, excited to see Matt, the kids and his newer home in Los Laureles. The first time I arrived was at the same time of year last August; that was a great opportunity to see Matt’s Central American life, as well as fulfill a school-required service project. I got a glimpse into a completely new culture, and was fascinated by it; the contrast between beauty and poverty astounded me. In a place where there is so much natural beauty, there is so much poverty, yet despite this poverty, remarkable happiness. Palm trees planted on the beach, white sand sifting between toes, just a short swim from beautiful coral reefs. Clouds flirting with the tips of mountains, forming different scenic views every day, with flowing rivers and waterfalls hidden in them would make for a wonderful tourist destination. All this was easily viewed from houses consisting of tin and ply wood, with children running around, competing in games in the dirt, like tick tack toe or marbles.

This summer was different because as opposed to leaving at 4:00 every day in a taxi to go home with Matt, I stayed with him in his nice, new house, up the hill overlooking the field, mountains city and beach.The panorama from garbage trucks dumping their load up the hill, expanding the big pile, all the way to the beautiful mountains and distant, frequent lightning, was quite the view from one of his two hammocks. I ended up spending much of my time there this year, in one of his hammocks. Sometimes it was because the kids were in bee-bee gun battles, which I decided I probably shouldn’t take part in (plus I’d rather keep my eye sight than get the “pleasure” of hitting a 15 year old with a plastic bee-bee). Other times, Matt would start down the hill, camera in hand, to an event I wasn’t invited to. So, I really didn’t get to see into the community and different families the way I did last year. While I missed walking to different homes with Matt, seeing the interactions and being part of the birthday celebrations, I was able to have nice, lengthy conversations with kids visiting his comfortable porch and hammocks while he was gone. It was a great opportunity to have conversations and interactions with the niños, as they would ask about my culture, my favorite fútbol team, this and that. It was nice to be able to converse with them, I loved practicing the Spanish and while it’s far from perfect, it’s quite gratifying to be having a full conversation in another language.

One of the highlights of these hammock interactions came when Anuar's younger brother hung out with me while I was playing Matt’s donated, less than prestine acoustic guitar. He began strumming, with an almost-consistent down-strum, as I did the chord changing. His body seemed to be bouncing up and down, head bobbing as he sang out his song, the majority of which I couldn’t understand. It was however, extremely cute to hear his high voice singing out, free to do so. Times like this reminded me of what I realized last year, regarding the term “service” project. It’s not quite appropriate, to come to Honduras for a mere 11 days and consider it service project, which connotes to me, to be in service to the kids.Yes, I was probably a positive role-model to them – I was at least discouraging his crew to go out of the house when he told them not to, discouraging them from diving into his wine bottles while we were home alone, and did help with a little math. I was no celebrity by any means; the second trip specifically, hardly a presence to some. It was really these kids, and this culture that was doing the service to me. It was my worldview that was being expanded, not theirs. I’m the fortunate one, who gets to experience a culture of poverty, with the capability of pressing the evacuate button to send me back to my privileged life.They listened to stories about Los Estados Unidos while I got to experience Los Laureles, and allow it to make a memorable impression on me, that still influence my daily thoughts, much later. I’m very grateful for Matt’s generosity and hospitality.

Perro Loco

2011-10-12T21:24:00.000-07:00

hanging out with my dawg

An Inter-Menno Debate...About Honduras?

2011-10-10T22:39:00.000-07:00

Ok, so those of you that know me well, know of my deep and abiding love for all things Mennonite. From the culture, to the theology, to the hymn singing, to the recycling of tin foil; I think we've pretty much got this Bride of Christ thing locked down. It should come as no surprise then that I belong to an online forum called MennoDiscuss which as they describe it is "A place where Mennonites (and others) can gather to discuss...". The three dots I imagine are a clue as to the open-endedness of possible topics of conversation; which pretty much is the case. There have been topics as disparate as "Amish in Israel" to "How Anabaptist are Mennonites?" to "Nonresistance & Malpractice" to "How Long Does It Take You To Sew A Capedress?" to "Iced Mint Tea". The forum tends to be populated by Mennonites from the more conservative and plainer churches and was actually started by a man from the Beachy Amish Church but there a handful of we "liberals" from the main body of Mennonites (MCUSA/Canada) and even a smattering of Quakers, Eastern Orthodox, Church of the Brethren, German Baptists "and others". It's a lively place and I have had my world and walk with Christ both enriched and strengthened by participating in (but mostly observing) the conversations and relationships that develop there.

I'm telling you all of this because the other day a topic developed under the title of "Eastern Orthodoxy: Convince Me Not To Convert" and while that may be an engaging enough topic for some of you out there, it really did nothing for me. Eastern Orthodoxy, I've got nothing against you personally and I love that you basically laugh and roll your eyes everytime you hear Roman Catholics yammering on about that 'papal infallibility' thing but seriously, you just don't have it goin' on for me. Like I said, we Mennonites.....anyway I was content to sit back and observe the exchanges that took place until a certain person, who is not Mennonite or even from a Mennonite/Anabaptist-related church (he would be considered one of those nebulous "others"), chimed in and started making what I considered to be factually specious claims about the Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholics and countries that are dominated by those church cultures.

Let me just diverge here for a moment and give you some insight into how this person is wired. Have you heard about a recent spate of parents essentially physically disciplining their children to death and claiming to have been influenced by a certain book by Michael Pearl, entitled: "To Train Up a Child"? The book essentially advocates beating the snot out of your children for the slightest infractions which is far cry from 'spare the rod' type punishment, which I am all for. Anyway, this person has a tag-line that he leaves at the bottom of every message he posts in this forum pleading with we non-children-killing Mennonites to read Mr. Pearl's book.

So, Crazy was proffering all sorts of wild claims about the high churches and various people groups around the world, most notably the Greeks, that were either trite and well-worn lies or outlandish claims based on hearsay and his own synaptic assumptions. As I mentioned, usually I'm content to observe and learn but there's something about presenting misleading facts and playing fast-and-loose with truth that really gets me angry so I jumped in with a quip about his remarks being baseless and absurd. My comments pertained mostly to the churchy aspects of his attacks but I also threw a zinger in there about his attacks on whole cultures and nations. And that's where things turned personal. He came back at me launching into a diatribe about the high churches but then reserved 5 paragraphs to attack Hondurans (he calls them hondurians) and their Godless culture. My name on the forum is HondurasKeiser and I've talked about my life and work in one of the conversations so the attack on Honduras wasn't coincidental. I almost lost it but then collected my thoughts and wrote this:

(Just as clarification, I responded to each thought or point regarding Honduras and not necessarily to each paragraph. The following conversation then reads as me quoting an individual point, responding to it and then moving on to the next point. If you'd like to read the entire topic from beginning to end, all 67 posts, you can do so here. Also, I'm sharing this with you all, not to show off my debating skills, and I think they may be wanting; but to show my true feelings on Honduras and the people here.)

Now your Honduras comments are what got my gander up.

LibertarianChristian wrote:My solution for honduras would be the death penalty and way tougher punishments for crime.

WHAT?!? I don't even know what to do with this. You mention it again so I'll come back to it.

LibertarianChristian wrote:In Honduras (And El Salvador, etc), life is cheap. There is no death penalty. People shoot each other like they go to the mall. There is no serious punishment for crime,

All true, sorry to say.

LibertarianChristian wrote:and most hondurans are godless. Their religion stands as far as they get benefits from it.

Again, WHAT? Have you taken a poll, are you quoting statistics or are you basing this off of the handful of Hondurans you've known over your lifetime? The majority of Hondurans I know, and I've met a few in my time here, are devout believers in God and tend to belong to the Evangelical/Charismatic wing of Christianity. They're not in this thing to see what they can get out of it. Most are here because they recognize that their very existence is a gift from God, that they can't make it from one day to the next without his grace and mercy. Your cheapening of these people's faith is offensive and wrong.

LibertarianChristian wrote:If you are a missionary there, you probably are being wildly successful?

What do you consider to be wild success in a missionary context?

LibertarianChristian wrote:I would recommend no one to send their daughters to a mission to Honduras. The guys, yes, the guys are highly recommended to go on a mission to honduras.

That has to be one of the most absurd, closed-minded and culturally clueless things I've ever seen you write. And believe me I've seen you write some doozies. I know many, many single, young ladies here working in the country. Do they have to be more cautious than males? Yes. Are they faithfully serving the Lord and leading others to Christ? Yes. Have they been acosted, violated or otherwise taken advantage of? Not a one. Come to think of it, I need a lady to help me reach the young girls and single mothers of the community here. Know of anyone?

LibertarianChristian wrote:But, I think that it would be more fun if an American organization doesn't support you, but if instead you try to make a living there. (But it can be dangerous). This would enrich your experience a whole lot.

I'm actually starting to get a taste of this. Fun isn't quite the way I'd describe it. Becoming more incarnate and learning more of what the average, poor Honduran lives through day to day, is.

Here we go:

LibertarianChristian wrote:When you are in Honduras, just by being white you are immediately HIGH class, even if you are a dirt poor american. Also, by being American, you are already not only high class, but royalty. You can expect royal treatment everywhere you go, and people shining your shoes and showing particular deference to you. You might think: "Ain't these people nice"? "Hondurans are so kind and welcoming". But be not deceived: How are they to each other? Hondurans are among the most selfish people on the planet. If it were not so, their country would flourish, because in a country where most people are THAT nice, prosperity is the natural, unavoidable consequence. But honduras is dirt-poor, and despicably corrupt, in all spheres of life. It is because each person basically seeks AVIDLY their own benefit, and couldn't care less about their neighbour, or about God. They care about their families, because they are THEIRS. Even we, who are bad (said Jesus), know how to give good things to our children.

There are two opposed qualities among people: "NICENESS" vs "Godliness".
Be guaranteed that if you are a white American missionary, hondurans will be EXTRA nice to you and will listen to everything you got to say

After I calmed down from reading this all I could think of were my neighbors, all 1500 of them. I live with the community of people that has set up life around the municipal garbage dump of La Ceiba. These people would have to be some of the poorest and most desperate within the 2nd poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. They more than any other demographic ought to be the archetype of your "greed hypothesis". By virtue of their cyclical and hopeless poverty, they ought to be the greediest, most selfish and most corrupt people in all of Honduran society. Unfortunately, they blow your hypothesis to shreds. I have never seen a group of people more self-less, more giving and more open with each other than I have amongst people here. One of my first memories from this community and one of the things that impressed me most was watching a young boy share his food. I had given an obviously hungry boy a small bag of chips expecting him to devour it on the scene. Within seconds he was swarmed by his friends and brothers and without complaint he gave each eager hand a chip or two until he was left nothing but a few chips himself. I've seen that scene played out here more times than I can count. If that's not self-less compassion I'm not sure what is.

I myself, that rich, white Gringo that lives in this community have become the receiver of countless acts of generosity over the course of my time here. From people loaning me a vehicle, to people loaning me money, to helping me with physical labor or opening their home to me so that I can use their water spigot to fill up my barrels. I have received far more from this community in the form of love and generosity than I can ever hope to give.

The same holds true for the wider swath of Honduran society I know. Is there greed out there, selfishness, evil? Yes of course, I don't idealize this place but Hondurans are not the most selfish people on earth and their poverty has nothing to do with that. It has everything to do with political corruption and a governing class, most of whom aren't from this culture, and their treatment of the average Honduran more as a slave than as a fellow human.

LibertarianChristian wrote:Honduras BADLY needs the death penalty. All murderers and "mareros" should be put to death if they insist in their ways, because violence is just completely out of control.

Honduras badly needs father figures. Honduras badly needs Jesus. Honduras doesn't need the death penalty anymore than they need the U.S. army training their military for them. Turns out they don't need a military either (we all know what a threat Costa Rica is). What Honduras needs is a political class that isn't corrupt or selfish, a police force that isn't corrupt or more concerned about drivers wearing their saftey belts than gangs going to war in certain neighborhoods. Honduras needs fathers that won't abandon their families and that will be strong, guiding influences in the lives of their sons. Honduras needs Jesus.

LibertarianChristian wrote:Nobody is safe in honduras, they extortion you when you have a business, you have to pay "taxes" to the gangs, and to the government. You can buy someone's life for like 1000 dollars or less. Everybody will be nice to an American white, except someone who might be interested in kidnapping you. Everybody will try to get advantage of you, either by befriending you, by marrying your sisters or your friends, or more extremely, by kidnapping you.

I am safe in Honduras. No one I know has ever been the victim of extortion. There are places you have to pay taxes to the gangs but then again you may have to do that if you live in Brooklyn as well. I've never felt taken advantge of except for a few unscrupulous taxi drivers. I have a girlfriend, we're talking of marriage, now that you've so deftly pointed out the cultural flaws here I'm quite certain she's trying to marry me for a visa. And heaven forbid one of these Honduran natives tries to woo my sister. What would my lilly-white family do?

LibertarianChristian wrote:But their hearts... are they close to God?

More than you'll ever know.

Duke is 15

2011-10-07T10:49:00.000-07:00

duke turned 15 yesterday.

we celebrated by sharing a bible study together.

each day i love this kid a bit more.

Inauspiciousness Is What We Do Best

2011-10-04T21:27:00.000-07:00

It was a rather anticlimactic end to a highly successful season for our beloved U-14 team.

At the end of the regular season we were seeded in 3rd place out of 11 teams and thus qualified for the pentaganol tournament to determine the league champion.

We tied our first game and then won our second two games and going into the final game this past Saturday we were in first place (point-wise) out of the top 5 teams.

This last game though was against the best team (talent-wise) in the league; one we had lost to 4-0 in the regular season and the team that had taken first place in regular season play.

Because of our point standings if we had just been able to manage a tie we would have forced an extra game, a true final as it were.

But we fell apart, in the most inauspicious way imaginable.

We scored first, Chamu, who hadn't scored much all season gave us our first and only goal.

This of ccourse got us excited, we could taste victory, another game, a chance at glory.

Then Duke, our center defenseman and the heart of the team had to step off the field because he was hurt, in that moment that he was gone the other team scored and our morale plummeted.

For whatever reason we could not recover and the other team ended up scoring twice more.

It felt like such a terrible way to lose.

It felt like we were better than this.

Better than the other team.

But, we're not.

We ended up in Second place.

Which is nice, really nice, it's just not first.

I think it was really hard for the older guys like Duke, Chamu, Jimmy, William and Lauro; they've been playing in this U-14 category for two years now.

Two years in a row they've ended up in Second Place.

This was their year to bring home a First Place trophy because next year half of them move up to the U-16 category.

It won't be the same.

still proud of them though

Kaká Turns 12

2011-10-03T21:31:00.000-07:00

One of the nicest and quietist boys in Laureles celebrated his birthday last week.

I had to apprise him of this situation because neither he nor anyone that lives with him knew that his birthday was upon us.

In typical Kaká fashion he just glanced at me and smiled. After inviting him out he disappeared into his home so that he could change into his nice "going out" clothes.

Once in the taxi he informed me that he didn't want a cake but a slushy from the mall.

Thrifty me was happy to oblige.

I hadn't seen him since we went out last week when he showed up at my window this evening to chat.

Man I love this kid.

Saturday Mornings With The Eby's

2011-09-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

saturdays have become odd as of late.

most of life has really.

saturdays used to be spent doing things like this:

but because of an 8 month soccer season where the majority of our games are played on saturdays, we really don't have a lot of time for much else.

so these past few months most of our saturdays, when not on the soccer field, have looked like this:

but then came those eby's.

they began filling a void that had taken root saturday mornings.

for the past month and a half now the eby's have been coming out saturday mornings to hang out on my porch and play games with the kids.

they've been teaching the kids uno and other card games.

the kids are expert dutch blitz players but seem to be too bashful to show off their talents.

andrew teaching the boys

LaRee teeaching the girls

neighbor boy (is it bad that i don't know his name?) looking on

Where I've Been

2011-09-22T22:56:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to take stock of my condition, my circumstance but I can't quite get my head around it. I'm not myself, this I know; not physically, not mentally, not spiritually. What I haven't been able to figure out though is if all that is a bad thing.

I got the dengue fever the other week, a funny-accented Cuban doctor confirmed it for me. It was a wild, feverish ride topped off with an alergic reaction that left me blotchy and itching. It's gone now, but it's left me sapped of energy - I want nothing more than to maintain a clean home, a full sink and to sleep as much as possible; those are my 3 daily priorities. It's hard not to feel utterly useless in a situation like that.

Something else changed in me around the same time - I stopped short of going over a precipice, thanks to girlfriend. I won't go into detail, I don't really want to but suffice to say, the current trajectory I was on had me racing headlong towards abject ruin. There's not a bit of exaggertion in that statement. With a word though, girlfriend checked my demise and overnight I became much more quiet and pensive.

I've started thinking about life beyond Honduras. For the first time the other day I began imagining a life back in Central Pa...and I longed for it. Something switched on within me; I wanted to go to a Friday night football game at my old high school, I wanted to see mountains robed in deep hues of red and orange, I wanted to feel the cool, crisp, Autumn air in my face. I missed my family, truly missed them and their involvement in my life, to the point where I became melancholic.

I belong to a Mennonite discussion board on the internet - fancy that. I don't participate much, as most on there tend to be of a more conservative and plainer crowd, I'm usually just content to observe and read. The other day a post came up about Elmo Stoll, at one time the most powerful and well-known Amish bishop in the Old Order Amish world. At the very height of his power and fame he turned his back on the Amish and moved to Tennessee to found an intentional Christian community. It was mildly successful but ultimately failed as a result of his untimely death. Ira Wagler (www.irawagler.com) another ex-Amishman and cousin of Elmo's did a fair job at chronicling the story if you're so inclined. These past few days I've been obsessed with Elmo Stoll and his community - part of me has always longed for Christian community in this way. Before I left for Honduras I used to envision being part of an intentional community in Williamsport. Maybe I'm over-idealizing, in fact I know I am but I can't help but feel that in the early days of Agape Fellowship (my home church) we had something akin to true Christian community. Not everything was held in common but life revolved around the church and the people in it, there was a sense that we were all truly struggling together to live out the life that Jesus had called us to. I miss my old church sometimes.

Standing over my sink today, thinking about Elmo and his failed vision I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I've missed it here, this was my chance, this was my community to help form and I've missed it. It's become something else entirely, what I'm not exactly sure but intentional Christian community it is not.

I talked to God the other day too - it had been too long. It was good to reconnect, to listen, to talk. I'm reminded more than ever how much I need him in my life if I want to make something of this path that I've chosen, if I don't want to end in total ruin.

Lately I feel like I'm on the cusp of something new and different; the fever and its exhaustion, the word from girlfriend, it's forced me to stop and listen. I still can't get my head around this new situation, but something has changed, that much I know.

Check Out The New EMM Video Highlighting Our Work...

2011-09-20T21:43:00.000-07:00

Click This

I've Got Nothing...

2011-09-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

For the first time in just about forever I have absolutely nothing to write about - no pictures, no events, no celebrity sightings, nothin'. I feel like a loser, like I'm not doing my job, like I've lost my touch. Check back tomorrow, maybe I'll have something.

this is all i've got

duke and anuar sharing a hammock

what a thrill

I've Got Nothing

2011-09-13T21:39:00.000-07:00

Daddy's been feeling deathly sick these past few days.

don't worry your pretty little head.

i'm almost well.

but yeah, i basically felt how you look there.

anyways, check back in on thursday.

Faces of Los Laureles

2011-09-09T10:07:00.000-07:00

don't let the halo fool you.

an angel he is not.

little mateo is kind of a brat.

and the only vocabulary he seems to be able to manage is variations on spanish curse words.

this one still isn't growing on me.

he does call me papi though.

papi might have to do some disciplining here in the near future.

ok, these people are not from laureles.

obviously.

but i liked the photo.

taken by tati.

soplo and manuel after a soccer game.
both, in their own way, think they're too cool for school.

it's been my mission to teach them otherwise.

here's a kid that thinks he's from laureles, acts like he's from here, spends all of his time here.

but he's not

william lives down the highway in a nice home with a stable family that has steady and reliable employment.

he discovered our soccer team last year, joined, became a star forward for the u-14 team and slowly began making friends here.

to the point now where he practically lives here.

sometimes he stays so late that his mother has to physically come and chase him back to their house.

he's a good kid with a good heart though.

some of our high school group has been struggling in their classes.

what else is new.

last year we had organized tutoring for the kids with our youth from church.

we don't have that luxury this year.

what we do have is girlfriend and her willingness to come out twice a week and help the most desperate.

melvin is so grateful

oh duke.

i could go on forever about duke.

i shan't.

i will say that in every way, be it on the soccer field or in the classroom or in his personal/spiritual life i see growth and a deepening maturity.

i'm truly hopeful for this one.

finally there's anuar.

funny how life goes aroud in cycles.

3 years ago anuar was the first child i befriended here in los laureles.

he went everywhere with me.

he was my door to meeting other kids, exploring the community, developing contacts with adults.

and then we kind of drifted apart.

he was always there - just not in the intense way he was for the first 6 months.

more recently and now that we're neighbors he's back in my life again in a profound way.

he's at the house all day, helps in whatever project we're invloved in and always involved in the conversations here.

i'm a big fan of anuar.

and he grinds a mean coffee mill.

I had a dream, there were flies in my coffee, flies in my coffee...

2011-09-09T09:36:00.000-07:00

it was a moth

you're so vain

Yeah, So About Those Gringos That Keep Popping Up In My Blog Photos...

2011-09-06T21:57:00.000-07:00

they would be the eby's.

as in:

andrew, arizona, caleb, eliana and laree.

they're a lovely family; quiet, warm, caring,

i think i'm gonna like them.

i may or may not have stolen this photo from their blog profile.

what gave it away, the winter coats or the barren deciduous tree in the background?

speaking of their blog, here it is: http://weebeeinhonduras.blogspot.com/

so, anyway, the eby's are here for a year.

they arrived in july - which i guess means they'll be leaving next july...or would it be next june?

do you count 12 months or do you count the year as july to july?

i might look into that.

back on topic.

they're here to work both with me in the community of los laureles and with a children's home run by amor viviente church.

that means they'll be splitting their time between both the mennonite church and amor viviente church activities.

this is interesting by-the-bye.

i don't think any emm missionaries have ever worked with both the mennonite church and amor viviente church before.

the two churches aren't the best of friends.

they used to be one and now they're two.

there was some parting of ways years ago.

maybe the eby's are here to help reconile differences as well?

maybe.

the eby's, as i mentioned, arrived here in july and have been spending the past month or so transitioning into life here in la ceiba.

transitions take time.

lots of it.

especially for whole families.

i took me a good 3-4 months to really feel like this was home.

i missed costa rica.

lotsies.

regardless, i was just one person - i can't imagine a whole darn family.

i've actually enjoyed both watching them and reading another fellow emm worker's blog: http://stacyinczech.blogspot.com/ about her transition into the czech republic because it brings me back to my first days in both san jose, costa rica and here in la ceiba, honduras.
the mixture of fear, wonderment, excitiement and naivete is something that can only come with moving to a completely new and unknown culture or place.

you feel so helpless, at the complete mercy of strangers with whom you have no other option but than to trust.

your senses are overloaded with new sights, tastes and sounds, new languages, processing what you know to be true back home with what you see now in front of you.

feeling like you'll truly get to know this place seems insurmountable and ridiculous yet you're hopeful and eager to learn the culture and language.

i love all of those feelings.

yet i love being able to call this place home now.

how did this turn into a blog post about me?

people that know me are smiling wryly and thinking of words like narcissism and self-involvement.

so about those eby's.

they've been slowly making their way out into the community, getting to know it and the people here.

the other day they came out for a visit.

they picked the afternoon when the sun is blazing in all its glory and my house feels like a furnace.

so i had all the energy of a slug.

i may or may not have been content to simply observe them interacting with the children here.

i did manage to take a few fotos though.

they brought legos along and both caleb and carlos quickly set about to building

i just love this kid

i know i say it every time he shows up in a blog

but i really mean it

arizona seemed more interested in the kids playing soccer

he's a bit flighty though

so he lost interest in that and came to join our lego fun on the porch

until he noticed my ducks...

so, them's the eby's.

hope you liked 'em because they'll be here (as in my blog) for the next year.

peace!

Laureles Football Update

2011-09-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

so it may have just occurred to me as i sat down to write a quick post about the recent soccer happenings that i have written next to nothing about them this season.

which is odd.

for one it consumes a lot of my time.

and there are 2 additional teams to manage this year...which ought to make for more stories/photos

and it's kind of important.

but no, i've let nearly an entire season go by without writing a thing about it.

where has my head been?

at some point i'll have to give a proper redux because this has been an exciting season

not to mention stressful

but this is not the time.

aka, i don't have the time for that right now.

here's what i do have time for:

chihua in goal

he plays for our u-16 team

he's amazing

our u-16 team is anything but

the star of our club is the u-14 team

they're simply a joy to watch

they finished the season in 3rd place out of 13 teams and thus classified for the pentagonal tournament to determine the league champion

this is the most disciplined, dedicated and talented group we have

and their coach there johnny plays a huge role in that

come to think of it our u-18 team isn't too far behind either

they had a rockier season

less disciplined, more red cards, more foul words

but due to some statistical favors they too ended up in 3rd place in their category

this staurday they have their first pentagonal tournament game

they're expecting it to be a cake-walk

i am too

i just don't want to tell them that

then we have the u-16 team

they think they're as good as this

really they're unruly clowns who have lost every game this season

i won't say talentless because they have a lot of it

they're simply undisciplined, un-critiqueable and in their minds the best players on the planet

before every game i'm regalled with fanatsies about how everyone plans on scoring at least 3 goals and how they plan on making an amazing comeback in the league

and nearly every game we come away scoreless

for some insight take a look at the captain of the team during a pre-game team meeting

he claims his nickname to be CR-7

that would be the intials and jersey number for Cristiano Ronaldo, the star forward for Real Madrid and disputably the best player in the world

eddy is no CR-7

enough ranting

and now for a moment of u-18 zen

oh, i didn't mention the u-12 team because i have no fotos of them

yeah, i've been really good about documentation as of late

In Case You Hadn't Read The Previous Post:

2011-08-31T11:09:00.000-07:00

Tati turned 14 last Thursday.

as if the beach weren't enough we went out and got him the old cake.

the same chocolate one he picked out last year.

love this kid - i love the direction his life is heading.

especially his walk with God.

Remember This Guy?

2011-08-30T22:00:00.000-07:00

it's jamie moon.

he's a friend of mine from frazer mennonite church.

he visited me last year.

he showed up again 2 weeks ago.

let me digress for a minute from these one line snippets to say how much I truly appreciate his visits. There's no one quite like Jamie Moon and his probing questions and genuine curiosity force me to reflect and observe in ways that I don't have to when i'm alone here.

right so jamie showed up.

turns out i don't have many photos of him or our adventures.

were there adventures?

jamie do me a solid and write a blog post for me analyzing your time here...you're good at that.

and include some really hot fotos.

ok, the one adventure that we did have,

that includes some sort of photo documentation,

was a trip to the beach.

the eby's...

blast!

i've never properly introduced the eby's

list of things to write about...

anyways,

the eby's wanted to take a day-trip to the beach and were kind enough to invite us along.

tati was turning 14 that very day so we invited him.

and when he showed up at my house at 7 in the morning for a 9:30 departure he had checho and hector en-tow.

on the way down the hill we saw abel and since we like him well enough we invited him along too.

so it were 5 eby's, 2 laureles gringos and 4 laureles kids off to the beach on a school bus to sambo creek.

we got off the bus and headed down this road for a good 10 minutes

really enjoyed hector's shirt

it fits him well

in more ways than one

i'm smart

the beach we found is at the mouth of a nice cool stream

it's really the best of both worlds

swim in the ocean and then wash off the salt water in the stream

the beautiful and tempting hog islands in the distance

true to form the kids barely noticed the beautiful creation or the tempting river and ocean

instead they opted to do something they do every day.

play soccer.

except checho...he chose to wet his feet and then search for mangoes the rest of the day.
fun fun.

hector slide tackling the ball

too many cigarettes

losing interest

what have the eby's done to abel?

buried him alive is what they've done

and here comes a little eby to finish him off

poor unsuspecting abel

growing weary of the charade

best friends

a child trying to splash me as i sit in the middle of the creek aiming for an artsy shot of the sea

that child would be abel

just throwin' up water everywhere

he's really quite photogenic

caleb drifting out to sea

love this shot

sister elyana

i think i spelled that right

something happened off to the right there

but tati and abel were too lazy to care and/or notice

Early Mornings In Los Laureles

2011-08-24T10:15:00.000-07:00

you never know what you may see in the wee hours here in los laureles.

like a kinder-aged prayer meeting

or maybe an arms deal gone wrong

Pepe Turns 11

2011-08-23T21:29:00.000-07:00

I've known Pepe from the beginning.

I've learned that he is a hard person, serious, easily offended and quick-tempered.

He's also an incredible forward on the soccer team, fiercely loyal, has a keen sense of justice and is a true leader amongst his age group.

Pepe comes from a rowdy, crude bunch - pray that he takes a different course.

Adonai is 14

2011-08-15T21:51:00.000-07:00

When I first began visiting Los Laureles nearly 3 years ago, Adonai or Pato as he's called here, was the 3rd kid that I befriended. He's been by far my most loyal companion and biggest headache, I think both for the same reason. He needs love and attention. He seeks it in any way he can and from anyone willing to show it to him because he gets nothing from the people that raise him. Pray for Pato, he's a sweet child with a generous heart and a lot of anger.

It's Really Stinkin' Hot Here...

2011-08-11T23:22:00.000-07:00

remember that gushing waterfall that we death-march people to as a form of treatment?

yes, of course you do, it's what keeps you from visiting me.

well, normally it looks like this:

recently though we've experienced a heat wave of disgusting proportions.

yes, disgusting is a good adjective to describe this inferno.

i feel disgustung when i rise from bed drenched in sweat, i feel disgusting as the sun penetrates my mind and teases my nerves all day long and i lie awake at night cursing my disgusting inability to sleep in a sauna.

do yourself a favor and don't visit honduras anytime in the next month.

oh yeah, so that waterfall looks like this now:

wait that's not right.

and who sits on top of victoria falls with a 4-year old?

is this for real?

oh, the waterfall...here it is for real:

just look at nature's power there!

the power to evaporate a waterfall.

we woke up this morning and it just seemed hotter than ever...just really stinkin' hot.

i didn't have much planned for the morning so we decided to head up to the mountains to visit a friend i know who has a pool.

we decided it would just be a family outing so that we wouldn't have to turn kids away or hurt feelings.

cristian opted not to come - he has a girlfriend now.

so it was just blas, santos and manuel.

they really enjoyed themselves.

maybe too much actually.

we brought dog along too.

she ignored us though once she found a friend to play with.

we quickly discovered that her friend was an erstwhile suitor with less than noble intentions for our little lady.

so we quickly packed it in, came home and made santos haul water for us.

he really likes to haul water.

so to summarize:

it's hot.

really hot.

so hot, our favorite waterfall has disappeared.

we decided to use a friend of mine for his pool today so as to escape the hotness.

we could have taken any number of children with us and rescued them, for a few brief hours anyway, from this wretched, dry, dusty community.

but we decided to be cruel and selfish and only invite ourselves.

cristian didn't want to come because some girl that barely has the will-power to look him in the eyes let alone talk to him has stolen his heart.

he thinks he's in love.

i want to puke and chain him to the furniture.

anyways.

we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, that is until dog's honor was nearly called into question by a cad that lives at my friend's house.

we came home and made slave, i mean santos, haul water.

he likes it...i swear.

oh, and some strange, speedo-clad euro type thinks it's acceptable to perch with his tiny son-daughter atop a 360 ft. waterfall.

that's not hot.

I'm really not like the rest of my family who talk ad nauseum about their ridiculous dogs and post cutesy pictures of those dogs all over the internet thinking that the world really cares about how cute Jada looks in a Santa hat. We're Mennonites, we aren't even allowed to celebrate Santa! Anyways, I'm really not like them but it's just that my pets, all 34 of them, are just so unique and intelligent and even Girlfriend says that my dog is more attractive than my siblings' dogs and she doesn't even like me so that has to count towards non-bias or something. The point is you just have to see what these little stinkers have been up to.

2011-08-09T22:24:00.000-07:00

Ok honestly, have you just ever seen anything more adorable in your entire life?

I mean, not only does she curl up with Blas each morning but she knows to use the pillow for lumbar support and everything!

She may as well just pull a sheet up over top and hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the hutch there.

This dog is just too much.

Ok, now on to those silly ducks.

What tricks will they come up with next?

Perching themselves on a 20 foot wall with sharp implements of death waiting for them below?

Oh, these guys just know how to be cute in a risky, devil-may-care kind of way.

It's almost like they're saying "What does this make you nervous? Because if so we've accomplished our goal."

Man, these ducks are really one of a kind.

Probably the only water-phobic, wall-perching ducks in the entire world.

And they're de-lish!

Ok, to round this all out we have a rat.

He lives in a recycled fan cage on the floor of our non-functioning shower.

Blas, remember Blas, the bedfellow of my dog?

Well when Blas first came to us he brought with him a rat.

Not wanting to be impolite I decided not to trample it to death right there on the spot but allowed it live in my shower.

Free-range style mind you.

Turns out Roscoe's really good at getting out of low-well showers and soon he had claimed the entire bathroom for himself.

Which puts a damper on all things related to bathroom activity.

I left for the U.S. and when I returned 3 weeks later I discovered that dear Roscoe had begun to explore other environs within the home; like under the bunkbed, on the pantry shelf or in my sock drawer.

I gave Blas an option; find Roscoe a home or he'll be the second course in this evening's dinner.

In that we live in a garbage dump it wasn't too hard to find something that could pass for a rodent's home by the day's end.

And that is how we've come to have a rat living in a fan cage down by the river...I mean in my shower.

And isn't he just adorable?

...and the garbage dump decalres His glory!

2011-08-04T21:20:00.000-07:00

at least the views do.

we're getting evening thunderstorms almost nightly here.

it's nice, it cools things off considerably after drearily sweltering days

and it gives you good reason to simply sit on the front porch, drink coffee and reflect.

and this is what we're treated to before the rains come each night.

sometimes i have to force the boys to look up and take stock of what God's given us.

they think i'm insane.

i think they're nuts for not appreciating the scenery so i guess we're even.

on a different note entirely, my refrigerator freezes things like a champ.

after just an hour in the "fridge" part, the water in the pitcher starts to freeze.

the other morning I pulled out a perfect upside-down ice mold of the water pitcher out from within the water.

i was moved to take a picture.

Just Starting Out

2011-08-02T21:44:00.000-07:00

As I was stalking people around the face book this evening I ran across this picture of Carlos (Chihua) and Anuar (Pani) that had been posted to a friend's album. It made me smile, a lot. This was taken almost 3 years ago on a bus trip with 4 other guys - we were headed off to visit my friend Felix in Santa Ana and spend the day swimming and playing soccer. At the time of this photo I was close with only a small number of the kids here (most of whom were on this bus trip), the work seemed insurmountable and the undertaking massive; every day was a new surprise, a new person met, a new kid added to our group. It was an exciting, heady time full of new experiences and people, we didn't know where we were yet going but we knew were to be there follwing the Spirit, befriending people and sharing the love of Christ with the community in any way we could. Life has changed dramatically since this was taken, both for these two boys and for myself but the love I feel for both of them has only grown stronger and deeper. More than that I see the way God has led and guided and protected all of us these past 3 years, how He's given us direction, a focus, a purpose here. It's not always been easy or fun but it's the path God has given us. Pray that we have the strength and courage to continue following His lead.

Perks of the Job

2011-07-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

one of the nice things about having children around 24 hours a day is that you can get them to do practically anything for you.

like hand-grind your morning coffee for you.

anuar's really enjoying himself.

i swear.

and with a shout out to carl fisher and his alabaster coffee shop in williamsport, pa.

no one here likes your coffee but that's fine by me, i love it and there's more for me to drink.

Getting Back To Life

2011-07-26T22:07:00.000-07:00

So I noticed the other day that I've practically stopped taking photos recently...I'm not sure what that's all about but Sr. Nikon and I are going to have a chat here soon if he doesn't get back on the job. I don't have him here for nothing afterall. Life here has been a bit tricky as of late though - people keep popping up or cutting out and I have to haul water. Which doesn't leave time for a lot of snapshotting. Water, for those of you that haven't had Earth Science yet, is the basis for all life here on earth, we need it in order to survive. Most civilized communities around the world have made it a priority to build their communities and orient their lives around reliable and steady sources of potable water. Those peoples that have decided to be real devil-may-care types, culturally speaking, and set up shop in the middle of a desert or a fountless island, have had to get creative and truck their source of life in from other regions...but they're resourceful and smart and have managed to prosper. We here in La Ceiba though are not smart or resourceful or terribly far-sighted as we have decided that our aquifier should be a shriveling river that runs dry about 3/4ths of the way through the dry season and that we should let people cut down the forest around that river so that it goes good and dry and that there is no hope for it actually serving its purpose. Thus sometimes La Ceiba, all of La Ceiba goes for days on end without a steady stream of water, sometimes certain neighborhoods get a trickle at 10:00 pm or 4:00am and then magically it will come back on, full-force and then disappear. Water is so fickle here. This of course is during the worst of it and very often Ceibans have their 24/7 water, though the pressure is nothing to speak of. Los Laureles is a different story - we've not been allowed to hook up to the city water, instead we get a single pipe that fills a tank that is supposed to water an entire community. Theoretically each home should get 24 hours of water every other day. Practically we get an hour of water every 7-9 days. When that hour comes we fill up our outdoor sink, two barrels and 4 buckets that we have here at the house and when it runs out we either haul water from the river or from a lady who has a special 24/7 hook-up; each day then we have to set aside about 2 hours so we can haul sufficient water to supply our home. Most people here though aren't even that fortunate and so when their water runs out they have to walk to the river to do all of their washing/bathing/cleaning. In the dry season life here in Laureles revolves around finding more water. So that's it, that's why I don't have any new pictures; poor lack of planning on the part of Standard Fruit Company, the City of La Ceiba and the land-grabbing campesinos who've never seen a forest that they just couldn't wait to chop down and burn out. Oh, and like 27 Gringos have left or entered my life since I got back to Honduras on July 4th. The YES Team finally packed it in 2 weeks ago, the Eby's from Oregon (there's 5 of them...I'll get more in depth about them later) arrived just before the YES Team left and my immediate supervisor, Galen Groff from Guatemala came for a 4-day visit last week. It's been a busy few weeks.

Regardless, I was looking back on the few photos I've managed to take this past month and noticed that they speak nicely to what's happening in our lives here in Los Laureles despite the daily water trips, despite the comings and goings and the excitement of meeting new people and the grief of saying goodbye to friends; despite all the hurriedness, the slow, unfolding story of Los Laureles continues to march on, with or without Sr. Nikon.

i was told I should cut this tree down.

everyone from my construction foreman to girlfriend begged me to chop away and plant something else.

i've always liked this tree.

it's gnarled, and worn but continues to sprout new life.

i like that.

i was vindicated when i got back.

a mourning dove had built a nest in the crux of the tree that was almost chopped down.

a crow eventually ate the eggs and the dove, now truly in mourning, moved on.

but for a few days we enjoyed watching the mother.

and i was right.

we had our towels stolen.

this is the first time we've been robbed.

who steals towels of all things?

there were soccer cleats, a bicycle, my exhaust pipe (thanks yes team).

but no, jorgito stole our towels.

marta confronted him the next day and must have threatened his life because within 2 days our towels were anonymously returned to us.

more than ever kids are at our home.

playing cards.

playing games.

talking it up for hours.

i'm getting used to it.

i like it.

just not before 9:00am

dog thinks this her bed.

blas doesn't seem to mind.

they curl up together every morning.

we've started to expand.

nolbin is from the river community.

that's the poor people that are too poor to live in the garbage dump.

nolbin's now our soccer goalie for the u-14 team.

others are coming...

karla and nodi have become real leaders amongst the group of girls here in laureles.

nodi especially.

they also have started a letter-writing relationship with maria bresticker from williamsport, pa.

this is the photo they made me take of them to send to her.

manuel and blas decided the ducks needed a home.

they went into the woods, cut down sapplings and began building this.

it never got finished.

what a cinderblock and pvc pipe have to do with a home for ducks is beyond me.

the ducks gave up hope for a real home too and decided to move underneath.

they're delish by-the-bye.

we ate two the other day.

lauro is ubiquitous but unsociable with most kids his own age.

he only wants to be around the older kids.

he's practically attached to manuel's hip.

he's infuriating, annoying and lovable all at once.

evening from my porch.

How Shall I Put This?

2011-07-14T22:14:00.000-07:00

Ok, I know, I've been absent/silent for quite a little while now. My guiding rule in blog-writing regarding prolonged absences has always been 'Just Pretend Like You've Never Been Away And Make No Apologies' but this time around it doesn't seem quite appropriate to go that route entirely. So here's what, I was away for a while and I'm sorry, my sister got married in Colorado and they haven't yet received internet...they're backwards luddites out there in the Rocky Mountain State and I was cut off from all civilization; so sue me. Ok so maybe that was like 4 weeks ago now...I can't remember. If you happen to be facebooky friends with my dear sister you should check out her wedding photos...they're hilarious. Are wedding photos supposed to be hilarious? Because I swear to you that these are.

Ok, so after the wedding I spent two weeks with my parents back in Pa which was nice but they had me watching so much televsion (and I'm not exaggerating here) that I literally had no time to blog. I mean honestly, between Pawn Stars and American Pickers and Hardcore Pawn who has time to think about anything going on in the interent. To be honest though I always feel funny about blogging while I'm home in the U.S., I mean half the people that read this thing see me when I'm there. It seems to strange to go out with a friend and then write things on here like: "Rhoda and I went to get coffee the other day and I couldn't help but notice that she's really, really been putting on the weight, she's not the svelt tennis player that she used to be, but then again who could be the way she puts away the 18oz. lattes and raspberry danishes." or "I saw Dagbert in church the other day, he's 35 and still living in his parents' basement, which seems to suit his obsession with 'My Little Ponies' quite nicely."

So that about sums up my reasons for not blogging whilst in the U.S.; Coloradans don't believe in internet, my parents are television addicts and my friends have made disasters of their lives. Yup, no fault of mine here...moving on. I flew back to Honduras on the 4th of this month and upon arriving at my home I noticed a problem, the floors were dirty. Oh, believe me, I know the YES Team tried their hardest to clean this place up it's just that they tend to be incompetent in the area of "clean", they all run about like headless chickens and so while one may be cleaning, another is traipsing through a freshly cleaned kitchen with muddy shoes looking for water. While they may have given it 'the old college try' the end result was something more akin to 'beauty school dropout'. These past 2 weeks then I've been cleaning like a crazy person...I know I am crazy...people tell me this all the time, my own mother tells me this but I have to tell you, I like the craziness, it makes for a very clean living environment...and in the middle of a dusty, semi-waterless garbage dump that is no easy task.

All that to say that this is the first time I've had to sit down and truly post something on this blog of mine, and boy do I have a doozy to lay on y'all. People here in Honduras are nothing if they're not superstitious neanderthals - there's a superstition for just about anything and if these people are right it's a wonder that any of we Gringos are still alive. I've been told that it's bad to sweep the floors at night, that owls are really witches that kill children and like to eat placenta (that's right, owls eat afterbirth), that if I have a wound that it's bad to eat rice, eggs, cheese, milk or bread (in other words, starve til your wound heals). I've been warned against bathing after I run as my open pores will allow water into my buddy and I could catch pneumonia, bathing in the morning will give you a stomachache and that bathing too much in one day could cause grave, unspeakable illness in the region of everywhere (just to be on the safe side it's better to not bathe at all really). I usually laugh at the people that tell me these things, sometimes I get indignant and demand proof and sometimes I get downright mean and ask them how long they've been practicing medicine and what medical school they attended. Mostly though I just ignore the nonsense and don't think anything of it; nothing but nothing prepared me for what happened in my very home the other day though. One of the youth that lives with me has been experiencing an off-and-on earache for quite a few days now, he didn't tell me about it, he simply dealt with the pain and went about his business. It seems though that last Friday night he'd finally had enough. There is another superstition here that says if you have an earache a few drops of milk will do the trick and clear that right up. Nevermind that you're putting more liquid that's not Neomycin (which dries things up) into an ear with an ache caused by trapped fluid, it's that you're adding liquid that will putrify and attract very strange bacteria to your ear canal. I tried reasoning with this independent thinker but he told me I was wrong and that my modern medicine was just a capitalist pyramid scam. I let him go and didn't think anything of it until I found out the other half of the wive's tale and what really went down. It's not just any old milk that this recipe calls for but a woman's breast milk - our neighbor/cook Vicki has been breast feeding her 3 year old son for well, like 3 years now, and probably will be for another 3, so when Vicki came that evening to deliver the food my young charge asked for her services and she happily obliged. She had him lay down on his side in Manuel's bed and she, without any other instruments than her own body, delivered the "medicine" to the aching ear...it didn't work.

I feel vindicated. sort of.

Keeping My YES Team In Line

2011-07-05T11:29:00.000-07:00

listen to daddy or else

I'm Home Again!

2011-07-03T13:00:00.000-07:00

ok really i'm just in the san pedro sula airport listening to 'this american life' but i'm getting there, just one bus-ride away.

In Los Laureles We Love Our Enemies...

2011-06-09T20:46:00.000-07:00

and sometimes we get a little carried away

La Ceiba From My Front Porch

2011-06-06T22:00:00.000-07:00

what more could a body desire?

I Can LIft Children Right Over My Head

2011-06-02T20:32:00.000-07:00

ronal has become like a small toy for me

Killin' Parasites & Other Fun Things

2011-05-31T21:09:00.000-07:00

So I've had this project up my sleeve for some time now and I've been waiting for the opportune time to launch it. A few months ago I got an unexpected donation - someone gave me two tubs full of very powerful and effective de-worming pills. There were enough pills for every man, woman, child and probably every house pet as well, in Los Laureles. I had these pills and a lot of motivation but a problem presented itself; this was not a job for one person or even two - I needed slaves. I needed them to write down names, take pictures, draw a community map, hold my dog's leash; I needed lots of slaves. I wrung my hands and racked my brain and thought to myself, "Wherever will I find such unsuspecting dupes to do my bidding?" I thought and I thought; I thought about the children here in Los Laureles but realized that they're much too flighty for this type of work. They'd start out with me like eager beavers and then suddenly get distracted by a loud crash or a scampering lizard (read lunch) and scatter to off to the four winds, they would never do. I thought about the youth from church but quickly dismissed them because they tend to be whiny and afraid of things like dust and puddles of water; it's a good thing I dismissed them as I may have ended up in jail for murder. I was at the end of my rope when I remembered the YES Team; they were coming, they would be here within a month or two, they would arrive with the perfect mix of naïveté, energy and fear, they could be my slaves! When they first arrived I was really nice to them and buttered them up alot; I took them swimming, introduced them to all the kind children, I didn't yell at them for traipsing through my house with feet that look like they belong to trolls. In short, I was not myself - I had a plan after all. Slowly though I began to acclimatize them to my reign of terror - I held day trips to exotic places out in front of them and then snatched them away with a twinkle in my eye, I began to bring around the nasty, bruttish children that whine and scream and are not very pleasant to look at, I started making them walk backwards into my home, cloth in-hand, wipping up their footprints as they advanced. I had them, and when I was convinced that I had broken their spirits sufficiently I sprung this project on them. Their response was unforseen, it was a mixture of joy and gratitude; the joy I still don't get but the gratitude I think came from not having to be surrounded by grimey little toad-children all day.

So! All that to say, the following 46 photographs are from our forrays into parasite land and might I add that I don't think I took a single one of them though they all came from my camera. Go Slaves!

ok, so rule number one: no dead babies.

like i said, this is a powerful pill and could be fatal to any child under 2 years of age.

we're playing it safe and saying no one under 3.

rule number 2: find a fluent spanish-speaking slave to do everything for you.

this one here traveled up from tegucigalpa to visit us.

we put her to work before she knew what hit her.

rule number 3: if responsible adults aren't at home, just talk to the 4 year olds they've so responsibly left in-charge and leave the baby killing pills with them.

rule number 5: just because everyone stares at it long enough doesn't mean it will go away, stop screaming or become less unpleasant to look at.

rule number 6: people that live in green houses are probably leprechauns that don't need de-wormed anyways.

ok, enough of the rules.

just artsy photos now.

carrie and blakely

a view of the upper part of the community from the ridge

curiosity

capitalismo

a creator's beauty in a garbage dump

yeah, the garbage dump

but mostly beauty

artsy

i likes it

observation deck

bath time

coming out to meet the gringos

they're real and everything

dixon, one of the kind children

ronal one of the not-so-kind children

ok he's in a category all his own

"Good bye, I promise to write."

this guy

what a lovely photo

frightening

like i said about ronal

alejandra

duke's sister

garbage dump tours

pimpona

here's a turnaround story

i'll write about it sometime

treehouse

best friends

headed off to soccer practice

even though they're too young to be on the team

nehemiah

nothing at all like the original

manuel

personal shade

lunch

psychotherapy

laureles style

oh and mateito turned 2

still isn't talking yet

turns out he doesn't much care for cake either

his older brother elvin loves it though

to a fault

Innocent Joy

2011-05-26T20:45:00.000-07:00

Darwin and his mango-stained smile

Sunday afternoons are a day of semi-rest for me. Usually girlfriend comes over after church, the other occupants of the house head to the river and we stay behind listening to music, drinking coffee and cleaning...we're both OCD freaks and for us this is fun. This past Sunday we were half-way through cleaning the house when two of Marta's youngest boys showed up at my door, well-dressed as though they were headed into town. I asked if the needed anything and the older of the two, Elvin, plainly stated that they had come to visit. I was taken aback by his grown-up manner and had to stiffle a chuckle. Not wanting to be a bad host I invited them on to the porch offered them a drink and mentioned that girlfriend might have some books she could read them. She more than jumped at the chance to stop dusting my soup cans and grabbed her favorites off the book shelf. Two Curious George and three dinosaur books later the kids were getting ansty so they decided to play hide-and-go-seek with Cesar the neighbor boy. I discovered that they're not the most intelligent children, their ideas of what constituted well-placed hiding spots were beyond absurd; a blind horse could have found them out. Each round last apporximately 2 minutes and 25 seconds, all the child had to do was stop counting, open his eyes and look about in plain day, there were the other two tucked under a long-legged table or standing behind a rocking chair. This gaming of theirs baffled me but I let it carry on because it kept them occupied and allowed me to clean. When they had had enough of the games they let it be known that they were getting hungry, again not wanting to be rude I offered them a mango which they devoured and forthwith laid down on my porch floor to nap. I was beginning to think that perhaps the boys had come to stay for good but I was wrong. When it began to get late Elvin announced that it was time to be heading home, he took Darwin's hand in his and headed down the hill; as they were walking away he yelled that they would be back tomorrow. They were.

Who Are The People In My Neighborood?

2011-05-25T15:01:00.000-07:00

I remember that song from my childhood, watching Sesame Street, it came back to me just now. Ok, that's a bizarre, stream-of-conciousness way to begin a post. This post really isn't about my neighborhood per se, if it were it would include Blance, Johnny, Pancha and a lot of chickens. I was looking back through my camera the other day though and noticed that a lot of my recent pictures are close-ups of people's faces; and they're really good. I've been lending the Nikon out to kids and YES'ers as of late and the following then is what they've been seeing through the lense.

me.

ok, this really wasn't supposed to be my first photo.

blogger.com is not photo friendly.

even though they claim to be.

they're not.

ergo, they make me look arrogant by putting my photo first when I was supposed to be somewhere in the middle.

I am arrogant though.

maybe blogger.com is really about revealing our true selves despite our best intentions.

guarded joy

coffee break

meche claims to be my girlfriend.

i don't deny it nor do i confirm it.

i did procur for her coffee and a seat at the latest community meeting.

she kissed me and blew on my neck.

she's 76.

leo.

that's meche's great-grandson.

gossip session around the tortilla maker

these kids are the most photogenic in the community

girlfriend

ronal and rafa

a happy couple

distraction

carrie

chele

angie on her birthday

this was uspposed to be the first photo.

not me.

i swear.

pepe being man-handled by abel

blakely and pani in the tamarindo tree

this is the picture of arrogance

i give you...

ever.

blakely again

who's gonna mess with that?

a meeting of sorts

cristian

william

umm

any thoughts?

frightening

It's Best Not To Apologize For Long Pauses Between Blog Posts, Just Pretend Like You Haven't Been Gone For 2 Weeks And That Everything's Normal.

2011-05-16T15:13:00.000-07:00

sometimes we run out of beans.

by beans i mean food in general.

but beans too.

by we i mean me, cristian, manuel, dalmata, chele, keiser and the ducks.

lauro seems to come around a lot at dinner too.

we'll include him in that list.

i almost adopted a stray puppy yesterday but resisted.

so yeah it's just us without the dying puppy.

we all get hungry sometimes.

being poor and all we go to market.

we don't go to mega super.

it's nice, what with it's air conditioning and music but it's too pricey.

my mom says pricey instead of expensive.

like: "ooh, looks like those reeboks are a bit pricey. better take another look at those keds."

ok, so maybe i go to mega super for some things like pine-sol and brauny paper towels...and unscented toilet paper.

but i'm 29 and i'll do what i want.

don't tell my mother.

market is nice though in it's own homey, sweltering way.

you see things like hammocks.

and decapitated pineapples.

not that we buy either on a regular basis.

but they are fun to look and imagine buying.

that's another trick my mother taught us.

look and imagine and it's almost as if you had actually bought it.

almost.

being boys, except of course for keiser and the ducks, but the rest of us, we like meat.

lots of it.

we really can't get enough.

100 degree heat doesn't make it terribly appetizing in the market setting.

but we hold our noses and imagine.

imagine you're inside the market house here.

dripping sweat and trying not to inhale too deeply the smell of carrion.

so much better than the mega super isn't it?

fruit is a bit pricey.

every once in a while I buy a package of strawberries.

i wash them, slice them, add sugar and pour them over my cereal.

i think that more or less defeats the purpose of fruits.

i'm basically eating candy with my sugar-coated cereal.

it tastes good though.

and really what are we here for anyway if it's not to enjoy ourselves to the max whilst we can?

funny that my idea of enjoying myself to the max involves a packet of strawberries.

here's an invention that should have been left to die in the rubbish bin of bad recipes.

get this, people here, and by people i mean everyone, boil green bananas and serve them as side dishes with just about any meal imaginable.

chicken nuggets? have a boiled green banana or two.

pork and rice? better wash all that down with a boiled green banana.

spaghetti? what's-a-come-an-a-go, you needa greena banana...a.

they're horrible. they have no flavor, they're hard and disgusting to look at.

and the people here, again, everyone, gobble 'em up like they were chocolate cake.

platanos on the other hand are a gift from above and ought to be treated as such.

i like them cooked green.

or completely yellow/brown.

or somewhere in the middle.

although it takes most of the morning i do like market.

i might like it more if it were air conditioned and had music.

and sold pine-sol.

Complaint #153: English Arrogance

2011-05-03T22:51:00.000-07:00

is this a legal firm from west philly?

So here's something I loathe about Honduras generally - A Base Need to Show Off. This takes myriad forms here in the land of eternal heat but the one that drives me up a wall and hits closest to home is the shallow and ridiculous show that many Hondurans (especially the privileged youth) go through to prove that they know English. Let me be clear, I think there is a difference in trying to show courtesy by not assuming that a Gringo knows Spanish and the arrogant display of hatcheted English. The courtesy doesn't bother me, I rather like it but rarely can it extend beyond simple, salutation-like remarks and thus, even then I prefer to cut to Spanish and dispense with the nonsense. No, what really bother me are the shows people go through to prove that they are better than the poor masses or have some sort of marketable advantage to offer to the world. Let me give you some examples beginning with the stupid and progressing towards the absurd.

Stupid: I run 5 days a week, out of those 5 days it's the rare occasion when I'm not bombarded with people sticking their heads out of cars and busses to show me that they learned some English in their elementary school classes. I get things like, "Hello, how are you?" "What is your name?" "Hello baby!" and my favorite "Gringo, go home!". I guess I'm just dumbfounded by this culture because what would posess someone to stick their head out of a moving vehicle and shout the 3 words of English they've managed to pick up in their lifetime at a perfect stranger who obviously cannot respond? Do they really expect me be able to reply: "Fine thank you, and yourself?". Even if I did they probably wouldn't know what I was saying. Can you imagine something similar occuring in the United States? I can just picture my mother shouting "Mach schnell!" and "Ich liebe dich!" at every Amishman she passes on the highway - she'd be locked up for harassment.

Stupid: Very often I find myself in line at a store or being waited on at a restaurant and after I've begun to order or talk in Spanish, the person serving me starts slipping in certain words in English, sometimes whole phrases. This bothers me. I appreciate that somewhere back you learned your numbers in English and I can understand your enthusiasm to want to share them with a real live Gringo but this presents for me two problems.
Problem # 1: I never know if I should respond back in English or switch over entirely to English because who knows if you'll understand that I want the Garlic Chicken as opposed to the fried variety and
Problem #2: Your pronunciation and heavy accent make it very difficult to understand if you're saying "two" "you" or "jew" so please, stick to what you're good at.

Sophomoric: I find that the need to "show off" in English plagues the privileged and "bilingual" youth of Honduras more than any other demographic and here's a fine example. Very often as I'm walking downtown and especially when I walk through the mall I'll happen upon groups of students from one of the 362 "bilingual" schools that seem to abound in La Ceiba. Can I just digress here for a moment and say that
a). La Ceiba as per their capita of bilingual schools must be one of the most lingually advanced and metropolitan of cities the world over and
b). just because you tack up a sign with titles like "Kinder Happy Day Child Caring Kingdom Jesus The King" does not a bilingual school make you.
Ok, so where was I? Mall, groups of students, bilingual school - I'll be walking along and here comes this group of teeny-bopping "bilingual" students, I know they're talking in Spanish because I can hear it and see it flowing from their chapsticked lips but the minute they see me, another Gringo or another group of "bilingual" students they slip into their best adaptations of Lady Gaga English. It makes me want to slay them.

Mildly Ridiculous: The other day I was in Wendy's (I might add that I never eat there but because Girlfriend loves it, there we were) and I as I was standing in line a very wealthy family came in behind me. The teenage son entered the establishment chatting it up with his father in Spanish but upon making eye-contact with me he immediately and with deliberate force in his pre-pubescent voice, began telling his father what he wanted from the menu in English. I wanted to smack the child and tell him that the sandwich is called "Wild Mountain Burger" not "Waaaald Maawntaawn Burrrrrgerrrr.". But I'm a Mennonite so I resisted. And finally, the

Absurd: Girlfriend told me the other day about an aqquaintance of ours and an episode that occured a few years back in University. This particular aqquaintaince, let's call her Doris, was obsessed with a certain group of boys that rode a particular bus from university back into downtown La Ceiba; Girlfriend also happened to ride this bus, Doris did not. One day as Girlfriend was sitting patiently on the bus waiting for it to depart who should appear but loud, obnoxious Doris with an equally vivacious friend entow. Doris spotted Maureen ran up to her and asked (in Spanish mind you) "Is this the bus that passes by Central Park?" Girlfriend responded in the affirmative and almost under her breath because she really can't stand Doris; and Doris in all her showy stupidity turned to her bouncy friend and loudly enough for all the bus to hear, particularly the boys she was trying to impress, declared (in English this time): "Jes, dis iis da bas!". To their credit the boys she had been hoping to impress began howling with laughter at her absurdity and the entire 20 minute ride into town they chanted "JES, DIS IIS DA BAS!".

I love Honduras.
Gracias y Buenas Noches.

So I May Have Bought 13 Ducks...

2011-05-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

I'm a sucker for the things, always have been and at .15 cents a beak who could resist the temptation? I had originally planned on just buying two but when I saw them all huddled together I couldn't bear to split them up so I bought the whole newborn flock. After 3 died on me in a matter of days I sent out for the mother and she has since put a halt to all this dying...though she is a bit messy, we're gonna have to work on that because I can't keep after her all day with a pail of water and a broom like I have been. They're actually not terribly difficult to tend to; in the morning I put them out into the stones and garden, throw some food down and put out a giant dish of water - I check on them periodically through the day and then at night they sleep in my shower. My father has asked me what I plan on doing with these ducks of mine, I told him that I will eat each and every one of them before the year's out but that's just lies - I really plan on naming them, digging a pond in my garden and watching them waddle about all the livelong day...though duck meat is tasty.

an artsy shot of myrtle and her brood

myrtle likes to get away from all the noise every now and then.

she'll put her children under the banana trees and then find a spot slightly removed from them.

this is from our first night together, the only time i allowed them to roam free inside the house.

i might add that they have a strange mania about sneaking back in during the day.

their water, food and shade are all outside but if someone leaves the back door open they'll make a mad dash for the inside and once there start to pick at everything in sight.

it's funny because at night they hate coming in.

every honduran i've seen, in all their caninal wisdom, has warned me that my ferocious and feral german shepherd will slay and devour my flock of ducks.

she did try to play at first but after i scolded her she was afraid to even look at them.

tolo and pani seem to have taken a liking to them

this is myrtle when she still had 10...were down to 9 now.

okay, so i had planned on just posting these photos (and even they are a bit much) but i got to taking some pictures yesterday and got hit with the desire to add these to the post as well.

this is up above the banana tree where they like to perch as well

habitual cleaning

much like myself

"so i says to her i says..."

(i can't think of anything witty or ironic)

nothing vulgar

snug

Why I Love Duke

2011-04-26T20:59:00.000-07:00

The other morning I walked out onto my porch around 8:00, coffee cup in hand expecting to be greeted by relative silence and inactivity in my neck of the neighborhood and as I panned out across the landscape I was pleasantly pleased to see Duke teaching his younger cousin how to take shots on goal. This may not seem terribly significant, it doesn't now as I write this but at the time I was just struck dumb with pure feelings of pride and love for Duke. He could have been spending his vacation week as I might have done, asleep or with friends and instead chose to wake up early and help Jose learn the sport that is life here in Los Laureles.
I'm excited for the man I see him becoming; a compassionate, honest and respectful leader amongst his peers. I'm excited to see his growing faith and thirst for a meaningful walk with Jesus. I'm excited to see how his qualities, his faith, how is life in general is impacting the kids around him. When I think back and remember the post I'd written about him more than a year ago it seems as though I was only scratching the surface of who he is. He's still goofy, quirky and oblivious but also he's a leader, an encourager, he takes his life seriously, he feels a heavy weight and responsibility for his mother and 3 sisters, he wants to follow Christ completely but is unsure how or if he can. I can't say enough about him other than that I love him and want the world for him. Pray for Duke.

Happy Earth Day

2011-04-25T20:34:00.000-07:00

I was reviewing my latest cache of photos just now and realized that I have at least 5 posts in the hopper - which is like blogger Christmas for me. Before posting anything though I would be remiss if I did not mention that both Edwin (Tolo) and myself celebrated our birthdays this past Friday, April 22. This is the third year in a row now that we've celebrated together and we always try to do something a little extra special. As our birthday also happens to fall on Earth Day we decided to mark the occasion this year by burning a hunk of styrofoam. H.B. to us!

We're Movie Stars!

2011-04-21T09:34:00.000-07:00

So those of you out there that aren't on mind-altering substances may remember that way back in March Cousin and Boyfriend came to visit, oops...

...I mean Boyfriend and Cousin. I've never quite had visitors like these two - supposedly they came to see me but they spent 90% of their time hanging out with Girlfriend (that's her in the background)...I was a tad jealous. They came though with a mission, they were sent by EMM (my mission agency) to film and photograph my life and work here in Los Laureles - the idea being that the media they came up with might be used in the future for promotional activities. All that to say, Cousin emailed me the other day with a link to a rough draft of the video they put together...it almost brought me to tears - man I hate feelings, that's two days in a row now. I loved it, wouldn't change a thing other than my incessant stuttering and commend them for their quality, professional work. I asked permission to post this even though it's not a final product and Cousin assured me that I could. So, if you have 7 minutes and 54 seconds click on the link below and get a new and snazzy perspective on life in Los Laureles. Oh, and Cousin & Boyfriend? You two are welcome back anytime, we loved having you; the kids are still talking about your wild dancing (Boyfriend) and the boys are still enamoured of you (Cousin).

Click this thing here: >>> Boyfriend & Cousin's Video

The YESer's Are A-Bloggin'

2011-04-20T09:01:00.000-07:00

The other day I was reading back over Konrad's last blog entry and I found myself wanting to cry...I hate feelings. More than that I think it ought to be required reading for just about anyone wanting to do short-term mission/service work; the wisdom and insight that shines through in that post is brilliant and poigniant. Man I miss that kid. It got me to thinking though - I can sit down and write all day about the goings-on here in Los Laureles, my observations, my feelings and hopes; but to read another's perspective on this place is like shinning a light into dark corners that I didn't know existed. I may know Laureles, I may live here but I don't know everything and everyone; the way one child interacts with me may be totally different from how he/she interacts with another. I discovered that when Konrad was here, there were certain children, Duke in particular but others as well, that just opened up with him in a way that they couldn't with me, they loved him completely and were devastated by his leaving. I'm discovering that about the YES Team here as well and after reading their first few blog posts I'm coming to appreciate the joy that comes from working in a team setting; the varied experiences and observations coming together to edify and work towards a shared mission. I would encourage you then to check out the team's blog; for those of you that have been following my blog these past few years and feel like you've come to know Los Laureles, it may give you a new and exciting perspective on this place that we love so much.

http://hondurasteam11.wordpress.com/

I've Hired A Maid

2011-04-18T18:48:00.000-07:00

her name is brandy and she's very thorough in her work.

i like that.

Clothing A-Go-Go

2011-04-15T07:19:00.000-07:00

This past week (and I'm not making this up), a strange man in a turck pulled into the community asked for me and delivered 45 sacks of used clothing to the building we use. He made me sign on the dotted line and off he went. I had no idea who he was or where he was from and I was more than a little daunted by the amount of clothing I was now charged with giving away. After a good cry I remembered something - the YES Team! They can do my work for me. This past week then we spent our afternoons opening sacks, sorting the clothing and overseeing mass giveaways. It's been a real treat especially with these mild, Sahara temperatures we've been experiencing.

the clothing was so great that they were hanging from the windows in wild anticipation

to give perspective that's a pile 3 tables long and two tables wide and we were only about a 1/3 way through the project

did i mention they were hanging from the windows

all of this clothing meant less space for our thursday bible class

we had to cram nearly 50 children into a corner of the building

rafa teaching rolan how to color

coloring drawings of the creation story

they're coloring, not kneeling for prayer

that girl there in the middle is rockin' a nice 80's style mid-life hair-do

we'll call her barbara

barbara there reminds me of the methodist women that populated my grandmother's church back in the 1980's

barbara makes me long for my simple childhood

chele taking a nap on

El Chele

2011-04-12T19:49:00.000-07:00

I mentioned last month in a post about my cousin that while she was here I had to attend to a child in the hospital for almost a week. It hadn't occurred to me to write more in-depth about that situation because it didn't strike me as terribly note-worthy but given the recent turn of events I think I shall and will also add that this is a solicitation for prayer for our dear light-skinned friend we call Chele.

One Wednesday late last month as I was frantically scouring the community looking for signatures, photos, and permission slips for our soccer teams, a group of breathless children came running up to me to report that Kevin, also known as Chele for his light skin, the goalie of our U-14 soccer team had fallen off his bike on the dirt road and landed in broken glass and that he had broken his knee. To the medical laymen of this great nation the "knee" and sometimes the "foot" consists of everything below the hip and the word "broke" could mean anything from a laceration to an amputation so I really had no idea what to expect. They led me to this dark shack were he was laid out on a mattress writhing in pain and gushing blood. What I could see was that he had managed to cut a gash to the left of his right knee down to what I assumed to be cartilage or bone. The people in his home, his immediate family including his father, seemed to be making no effort to comfort him or to stop the bleeding and when I asked what they planned to do they replied that they'd take care of it in-house. I'm all for home remedies and not rushing to the hospital at every sniffle but this laissez-faire attitude smacked more of indifference than anything else and I almost delivered some choice words to that oaf of a father. When it became evident that they weren't planning on lifting a finger to help him I stormed out, retrieved my car and sped off to the hospital with Chele, my cousin, her boyfriend and about 12 concerned teammates entow. We first visited the private hospital where they wanted to admit him and operate immediately but with a $1,000 deposit and the promise of more fees in the future. I politely declined, paid for the consultation/cleaning they gave him and off we went to the public hospital where he was admitted, operated on and hospitalized for the next week. In the first few days Manuel and I took turns staying with Chele on 6 hour shifts. I spent the first night there, Manuel the second and in the daytime we split it evenly...and on it went. In that time his father visited twice for a few minutes each time and his grandmother who happened to be in from out of town visited a few days towards the end of his stay.

When it came time to bring Chele home we were confronted with another problem, his father no longer wanted him in the house. Really it was Chele's stepmother that didn't want him there but she has considerable pull with the father; she's pregnant and seemed to think that a boy with a gaping wound might do harm to the fetus she's carrying. I didn't point out that they had originally planned on letting him bleed out in the middle of the house and that that hadn't seemed to bother them then nor did I mention that he arrived back in the community so pumped full of antibiotics that he was probably the healthiest person in Laureles at the moment. I kept my mouth shut for fear of what might come out. Chele looked rejected, distraught and hopeless yet he seemed to take it as normal that he was unwanted by his family. I asked for a few minutes, left the home and sought out Manuel and Johnny, his soccer coach. Between the three of us we decided that Chele would convalesce between our two homes; he could sleep at Johnny's with Johnny's son, he could take his meals at our house and spend his days between the two homes. I returned to Chele's home an hour later and proffered the idea with the stipulation that he be accepted back into the home once the knee had healed. All agreed to the arrangement and this is how we've been living these past 3 weeks. Quite well I might add. Chele is happy here, his knee is healing well and he's taken on some responsibilities around the house; he came to church with us for the first time last week and seemed to really like it. Pray for him though, he will eventually have to return to his father's house where he will put back to work on a banana truck. Pray for strength.

the healing knee

i removed the lone stitch the other night.

chele

College Days

2011-04-11T10:13:00.000-07:00

this past friday we loaded up 20 kids from our u-12 soccer team along with one of their coaches and 5 gringo handlers onto a bus that headed out to the public university. this is becoming routine for us, these university visits but we like them. we like the diversion, the change of scenery, the feel of true learning in the ambience, the chance to play soccer on real grass.

the first thing we learned is that someone did not in fact paint this tree various colors. although about half of our kids were convinced otherwise.

we also learned that hondurans generally assume that any dog that looks like this is hell-bent on slaying you at the first sign you might have let your guard drop.

seriously, i've never seen a nation of people so weak-kneed at the sight of a puppy.

i try to tell them she's friendly and loves to play but they act as though i too am part of the ploy to lure them to their dog-mauled deaths and avoid both of us as though we were typhoid mary's.

the girls opted not to play soccer in the sweltering sun and instead chatted with the kids as they came to take water breaks.

this one should probably get hung up somewhere at emm's central offices.

look, we're no longer at university!

we ended our time there around mid-day and went straight to a nearby swimming hole.

where we spotted...

fish.

a blurry leap

nery found a perfect seat

i was a little chilly

but not too chilly to pose

learning is fun.

Best Birthday Picture of the Year

2011-04-07T20:29:00.000-07:00

Darwin turned 4 today. We couldn't find any birthday candles so we rounded up some 'Our Lady of Fatima' funeral/vigil candles and plopped one down in the center.

he was thrilled

YES, We Will Clean Your Floors, Daily!

2011-04-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

The YES Team (Youth Evangelism Service) has been here for almost 2 weeks now and this is what my front porch looks like as a result. They just attract little children like magnets. I'm constantly shooing them away with my broom and they just come swarming back, eyes all-a-goggle, wanting to be near the newest Gringos in Los Laureles. The YES'ers have plugged right in and while their Spanish isn't the best/almost non-existant they don't lack for zeal or desire to share Jesus love with the kids; that comes shinning through. More than that they've been an encouragement to me to refocus my energies and reach out to a younger group of kids that I don't normally interact with much. As the weeks go by I'll be sharing more of the Team's adventures but for now be in prayer for us all - working with a team is a lot different that working solo or simply with a sidekick. Pray for my front porch and dusty floors as well...my OCD is kicking into overdrive.

so the team consists of curtis kauffman from belleville/lewistown area.

he's got a real dutchy/pa accent...i feel like i'm home.

carrie nofziger is the leader of this outfit.

her cousin married my babysitter.

small mennonite world.

this one, steve, he's some sort of methodisty-presbyteriany-evangelicalite that went to

messiah college. he's gonna be a pastor.

these three aren't part of them team

but they are a great example of children dirtying my floors.

blakely schwenk is a cornhusker, farm girl.

who has a drugged-up admirer

jackie seems satisfied with team's activities

heather vaccaro is a virginia mennonite that has taken my dog and it's love away from me.

those two boys, carlos and juan follow her around like lost puppies as well.

love this kid.

can't say it enough.

Old Order Mennonites in Paradise

2011-04-04T10:53:00.000-07:00

Forget the Black Bumper, Horning Mennonites...

We've been invaded by full-blown Horse & Buggy, Wenger Mennonites. They've already started sending they're plain forms of transportation by ship down from Lancaster County.

Mateo is confused. Chele is unfased.

Post Number 300

2011-03-30T08:18:00.001-07:00

That's right, it's taken me nearly 4 years but this little beauty is blog post number 300. Ok, that's all I've got. I have lot's to share from YES, to soccer, to gaping wounds but so little time to do so. Bear with me and in the meantime enjoy this: (I found her being dragged down the main road in Laureles in this half-a-suitcase by her slightly older brother and cousin. I found it hilarious - I probably should have felt pity.)

just not feeling up to traveling

Death March To the Waterfall

2011-03-23T10:49:00.000-07:00

I mentioned yesterday that cousin and boyfriend showed up in their motorhome the other week...

ok, this is them really, though I think I prefer the other photo. Anyshway, as is our wont and custom, we took the two unsuspecting gringos into the mountains under the pretext of a lovely stroll through the forest terminating at a delightful and inviting waterfall. Nothing could be further from the truth really; it's actually similar to a forced death march with steep inclines and switchbacks nearly the entire leg of the journey. One is forced to traverse rock slides, slippery declines and inclines that grade at a frightful pitch. The journey leads you to a waterfall to be sure but in order to enjoy it you have to descend a rock wall made slippery by spray, moss and worms and then climb over boulders of the same. The hike, if it can be called that, is essentially a 2 hour-long test in patience and endurance - 5 minutes in you want it to be over. This is Nelson's schtick really, he made me do it in my first month here and every time a foreigner comes to town all hazy-eyed and innocent we quick hog-tie 'em, throw them in the back of the truck, drive into the mountains and then cattle-prod them all the way to the waterfall. It's a real treat.

We brought dog along too - she was like a jungle cat roaming the forest, leaping small boulders and fording streams. I was proud.

We brought girlfriend along too - she was like a jungle cat roaming the forest, leaping small boulders and fording streams. I was proud.

Chihua was our guide as he's been on this twisted form of punishment many a time with Nelson and myself.

Once at the waterfall one is expected to write one's name one a fallen tree; it's similar to marking your name on the wall of your jail cell.

A creepy/artsy shot of cousin.

and boyfriend.

falling water, Frank Lloyd Wright would be mesmerized. I always want to say Andrew Lloyd Webber which is funny because the two couldn't be more different.

a quick and unhealthy drink.

dog was almost lunch for our young raptor friend.

On the way back four of the guys decided to take the swinging basket instead of the swinging bridge. It turned our to be much harder than what they had imagined.

Rafita had to help them along the way.

You'll notice that Nelson (back-left), leader of the expedition, is doing absolutely no work.

And after seeing me taking photos he decides to stand up and flex his muscles.

If you value your life never visit me in Honduras.

Update On Der Haus von Keiser

2011-03-21T13:30:00.000-07:00

So it's been a week since last I posted which is out of character for me I know. I have a good excuse though: my cousin and her boyfriend came to visit:as you can see they came dressed prepared for any weather that might befall us. That and I spent a good portion of the week in the hospital with my goalie from the U-14 team; the combination of the two left me with little time or energy to even think about blogging. Anyways, the cousin and boyfriend flew the coop and goalie-sans-knee is back in the community and so I am back with a vengeance.
I realized soon after blogging my last post that I failed to give any shots of the final product so the following then are a few slides of the final touches the kids put on my wall of dirt.

where once you could hang from the bottom of this tube, it is now covered completely by earth

the kids scoured the community for spare tires to build a make-shift retaining wall. had they not all of that earth that they hauled would have washed away with the first serious thunderstorm.
my porch, the new earth, the retaining wall, blanca's roof.
we're kind of on top of each other here.

this used to be a ditch that i could stand in and not be able to see over the wall.
we haven't finished on the far end there because the final column in the wall needs to be poured yet.

ok that's two fotos of basically the same thing, i'm getting a bit sloppy.

another angle of the new tire wall

So then after taking those "final product" fotos I remembered Lois Huston. She's a lovely lady from Frazer Mennonite Church who had asked that I post fotos of the outside of my home so that she could get an idea of what it looked like. I said: "sure Lois, just let me wash down the floors once and I'll get right to it." That was back in January. So Lois, if you're still reading this blog of mine, the following is for you; just remember that I haven't painted it yet...I'm thinking of olive and white for the trim. Give it a real jungle effect.

looking up the path to my home

the final two steps before the landing

the front door

again with the front door

in the morning we put out the towels and wet clothes on the front porch to dry

the landing.

johnny the soccer coach lives in that house below there

the stone wall that holds the hill that is the path up into the other homes

the front door again from the view of the back door

the right side of my house

that back corner is the retaining wall that had fallen down in october

looking out in the other direction

looking out from the left side of the house

keiser's landing

gnawing on something she found in the dirt

the landing, the canal ad the other landing that leads up to pancha and oscar's house

the canal.

the tubes are from my outside sink and the downspout from the house

the canal runs from pancha's sink, down through my property and then on to blanca's where it lets out into a gutter.

the outside sink behind the house.

we fill this up twice a week and use it to bathe and wash the dishes.

cousin and boyfriend in the hammock behind the house

Child Labor

2011-03-15T07:45:00.000-07:00

The other day a crew of children showed up at my door fairly early in the morning - that's not terribly remarkable as it tends to happen almost daily. What made this day unique was that this particular group of kids took it upon themselves to start filling in the space behind the retaining wall that sits in front of my porch. It had a pretty steep drop and I had been thinking to fill it in for sometime but had never had the time or the dirt to do so. This particular morning though the kids were hit with the desire to serve and serve they did. They went looking for dirt and rocks throughout the community and hauled it back in buckets for a good 4 hours. They had a soccer scrimmage in the afternoon so they stopped at noon so a to conserve energy but the next 3 days were the same; they showed up at 8 hauled dirt in pans, buckets and sacks for a few hours and then dispersed. It made me smile because it was work that I really wanted done but had never asked that they do it - it just happened. I felt blessed. The final day then when the quit work I loaded them all up in the truck and we rode up into the mountains to go swimming in the river, it was a niec way to end a hot and dirty week.

lauro put himself in charge of leveling out the dirt and building a make-shift retaining wall of tires and rocks

he also decided to work in his older brother sergio's "going out" shirt

there were a lot of breaks to be sure but as it was purely voluntary i couldn't complain.
here pato and pochicho are perched on the edge of the porch.

manrique taking a breather.
here's a kid that has had a real attitude change, he's only 8 but he's a terror, he has a horrible vocabulary and is downright viscious.

lately though he's mellowed and become softer, happier, more approachable.

chita, elder and tavito (another character that has had quite the turnaround these pat few weeks)

the kids got so ambitious that they started stealing dirt from the actual garbage dump. the authorities didn't like that so we had to procur it in more creative ways.

Speech Therapy In a Hammock

2011-03-09T09:50:00.000-08:00

Cesar is the youngest son of our neighbors Oscar and Pancha and he is forever hanging about our windows or slyly trying to creep into the house. He's a lovable kid and happened to be one of Becca Serra's favorites when she came to visit. He has a bit of a speech impediment though which he is often shy about. Yesterday I showed up to the house in the afternoon and it was surprisingly dead, the only sound to be heard was coming from around back where we have our sink and a hammock strung up under the eaves. There I found Manuel taking a break from his studies and working with Cesar on pronouncing words - his patience, perservance and insistence on perfection was remarkable. Cesar for his part did well too, the hardest word for him though was Melocoton (the emphasis is on the last 'o', it means peach) , he just couldn't get it and at one point said "Me lo comi un monton." or "I ate a lot".

A Hellgrammite in Honduras! Sort of...

2011-03-08T19:26:00.000-08:00

I could go on forever about the wonders of hellgrammites and the glorious fish-bait they make but I'll spare you all the boring details and inform you that hellgrammites, which live in the creeks and streams of Appalachia, turn into this:

The Dobson Fly.

What one is doing clinging to the wall of my front porch in Honduras is beyond me.

League Play Is Almost Here...

2011-03-07T18:48:00.000-08:00

Official league play is almost here and in anticipation of that we've been meeting fairly regularly with another local team to scrimmage and test ourselves. We look good!

jonny the coach organizing the u-12 team

tavito, a u-12 player who was unable to play that day

juan carlos, another u-12 player and brother to sida

bryan getting ready in the bed of the truck

warm-ups

the team mascot

team at prayer

One Final Thought

2011-03-02T19:12:00.000-08:00

I had meant to post something else entirely different today but when I loaded my photos from my camera up to the laptop this evening, this came out - I had forgotten I'd taken it.

sida's funeral procession

Warning: The Following Is Not Appropriate For Younger Readers

2011-03-01T06:31:00.000-08:00

Here we are on the 1st of March and I noticed this morning that I haven't posted since last Tuesday... which is strange for me I know, to be honest I haven't had much desire to write about anything. A 16 year old boy from the community here was violently killed early last Thursday morning and I've been feeling it a lot more than I thought I would or in some way even think that I should. Let me first allay fears and say that Los Laureles is not a violent or dangerous place - Rolan was mixed up in some unpleasant activites and was hunted down by some very powerful men from outside the community. Funny that I mention his name like that, Rolan; I never even knew it until I had to help his brother Blas plan the funeral arrangements. For these past two years I've simply known him by the nickname that everyone else used, Sida. SIDA, by-the-bye, is the Spanish acronym for AIDS; not that Sida had SIDA but that should give you an idea of his social class within the garabge dump community. For those of you that have uncanny memories you may recall that Blas(17) is a good friend of mine, comes to church now and then, plays for our U-18 soccer team and is a well-respected leader amongst the youth of this community. He also has two very young brothers, Juan Carlos(11) and Berlin(8) whom I adore and who regularly participate in our daily activities in Los Laureles. Sida though, Sida marched to the beat of a different drum - he was addicted to cocaine. He spent his days working on the garbage trucks, his evenings scouring the garbage dump for scrap metal and his late nights high. To support his habit even further he and a few close compatriots would sneak on to the property of a wealthy neighbor of Laureles and relieve him of sundry items that they thought he might not need and that they knew they could sell to the scrap metal collective here in the dump - things like truck engines, car batteries, fenders, whole wheels...if they had really given it much thought they probably could have dismantled and reassembled a whole automobile and sold that instead of selling it off piece-by-piece as scrap metal. At the time I chuckled silently to myself but now feel ashamed for having done so; I knew what they were doing, knew that it was wrong and I certainly didn't support them in their activities but the sight of them passing my house each evening (the path into the neighbor's property begins just below my home) loaded down with massive car parts was kind of humorous to me (I can find humour in just about anything...I'm kind of a simpleton in that respect). Despite his thievery, his vicious drug addiction that was wasting him away to nothing, despite his wanton disregard for his mother and younger siblings despite all of that, Sida was a joy to be around. He was warm, kind, always respectful and soft-spoken; unlike some of his friends he never stole from the people within Los Laureles - instead he would always ask for this item or that, maybe a few bucks and if someone refused him he asked for a cup of water, blessed the person (in all sincerity) and went on his way. Sida was well-loved here in Los Laureles.

By all accounts Sida and his closest companion Jorgito (I mentioned Jorge's mother a while back trying to hold back tears as she talked of sending him to jail to keep him from killing himself) were spending last Wednesday night as they always do, stealing from the wealthy neighbor when his thugs (he has a host of them to guard the premises) caught them in the act. Jorge managed to escaped but Sida was not as fortunate and they beat him mercilessly before killing him execution-style in the no-man's land between Laureles and the neighbor's property. He was found the next morning by a resident here on his way to chop firewood and by the time I managed to get there (I had been downtown most of the morning) nearly the entire community was gathered around his body, weeping, whispering and waiting for the coroner to show up. Blas, who rarely speaks, was wordless and inconsolable - I know that in a way he feels slightly responsible for the direction Sida's life took. I spent the rest of the day and evening with him planning the vigil and burial, retrieving the body from the morgue and sitting with him through the first part of the vigil; our church supplied the coffee and light food for the all-night viewing. The next morning we buried Rolan in the municipal cemetary and by mid-afternoon all seemed to be forgotten, even Blas seemed to be back to normal. And that's what has had me so verhutzed. I knew Sida, I liked him well enough but I wasn't particularly close to him yet I cannot shake him from my mind these past few days; I can't stop thinking about the terror that that young, kind boy must have felt just prior to being killed. I can't read the minds of the people here, I can't know what Blas is thinking but even in the hours following his death people talked about it so matter-of-factly as if this were a normal part of life and that we probably shouldn't give it too much thought. It was treated as more of a spectacle to be observed than as something to feel or reflect on. Some even muttered that he had this coming and that his life serves as a lesson to the rest of us. I want to shake people, to yell at them to remind them that one of the nicest, most respectful boys in the community was just violently murdered and no one excepting his mother seems to be giving it a second thought.

I'm left asking myself where is Jesus in all of this, how might he be glorified? I have an idea but I don't want to speak too soon. I'll leave it at that

up above my home in the bullrushes