Today is a very sad day. I was awake until late last night watching the news about Alfredo Villatoro's death. He was Catholic. The Catholic Church across the street sang until 1 am last night. I believe it was in reverence to Alfredo Villatoro. They had long services at Easter, but never that late.
I was afraid there would be violent protests in the streets today, so I woke up early and started watching the news again. There was no violence, only immense sadness. As I was lying in bed a helicopter flew overhead and reminded me of the last time I lived here.
For those of you who don't know, I lived in Honduras in 2009 when the president was breaking the constitution. Therefore, he was removed from his bed early one morning and taken out of the country. Most educated people were very happy this happened. They were pleased with the interim president. But the poorer, less educated people were very angry and had horrible protests or "manifestaciones". It was scary. The water and power were turned off. When the power came back on only one radio station was available. They announced a 24 hour curfew or "toque de queda ". Anyone on the street while the toque de queda was in place was arrested. Eventually the toque de queda was reduced so you could leave the house for a few hours in the afternoon, then it was from 8 am-6 pm so people could go to work. Sometimes they would hear about building manifestaciones, so they would play a national song on the tv and announce the toque de queda was pushed back to 4pm. Then people would have to hurry to get back into their houses before 4 pm. There were bombings and shootings and lots of marches with everything in the path of the march destroyed. It was bad. I could always tell what kind of a day it was going to be by the amount of helicopters I could hear in the sky when I woke up.
This morning I heard a helicopter and I did not like it one bit. Crazy how sounds can bring back emotions. But it was only one helicopter. The news was more focused on a teachers strike. It seems to me that the teachers here are always on strike. The first time I visited they were striking because they hadn't been paid in 2 months. (Understandable) The next year when I visited they were striking because the same president who didn't pay them the year before (and hoarded the country's money in his residence) was taken out of the country. They are state employees, so I guess that made sense to them, but... Today they are striking for a pay raise. They will strike again tomorrow, which means we will have a lot of kids at the breakfast program. This morning we had 59 in the early group.
Jairo came to pick me up. We looked everywhere for a newspaper, but every newsstand in the city was empty and abandoned. My mind was still in scared mode, so I initially thought the newspaper wasn't printed, but Jairo explained the papers are all sold out! That was strange. I saw a front page on the news. It said "DOLOR", which means "PAIN". Last week's paper said "LIBERTAD (FREE) ALREDO VILLATORO" in bold across the whole cover. When I saw that cover last week I remember praying that the cover would be an indication of the outcome. This was not the ending anyone had hoped for.
Jairo told me that the latest news is that there was never a ransom request at all. It seems more politically motivated, possibly as a result of a recent drug bust. Another clue that it could have been politically motivated was the red towel on his face and the red socks on his feet. Red is the color of the extreme right winged people. Jairo also said authorities were closing in on the kidnappers last night, right before Alfredo Villatoro was killed.
Lourdes was at a special presentation at Aaron's school, but she came down later. When I got to the church I had big plans for the 100's of hot dog buns and mustard that were donated yesterday. The kitchen was full of women. Hot dogs were already boiled to an odd color and even odder shapes which I can't even describe. The mustard was mixed with mayonaise, as is traditional here. There was shredded cabbage in a bowl and everyone was talking about what to do with it. My vote was to throw it on the grill. Then we could toss the hot dogs on too, to give them some flavor and texture. I was outvoted. The cabbage was sauteed. Lourdes found jars of pickles from the donations and we sliced them into tiny spears. Jacky spread a thick coating of the mayo/mustard on both sides. I added the odd looking hot dogs two slices of pickles and ketchup. Then, the woman who taught me to make pupusas yesterday added the cooked cabbage. She insisted that I add more ketchup on top. She is very bossy to me in the kitchen, but she is an older woman so I must always be quiet and obey. She made a big deal, saying over and over to the other women that I had thrown out the bags the hot dog rolls came in. She picked them out of the garbage. I realized I had made a mistake, but didn't understand why she had to make such a big deal about it. In the end they used one plastic bag to catch a fly and asphyxiate it. I think the rest got thrown away.
The kids got Craisens to take home with them, which was a nice treat. One of my favorite little guys (Misael) got his baby toenail ripped off, along with part of the skin of his toe. Another boy, bigger, kicked him. His mom, whom I adore, and I doctored him up as he screamed in pain. She works in the kitchen almost every day. She is a really hard worker, but she is also a lot of fun. When I first met her I thought she was one of the kids, but she is 26 years old. She has lupus, but it is under control right now. Her daughter is the one who has plans to be a pastor. Her kids are hard workers too.
I had to be extremely firm with one of the girls today, which was sad. Often she eats alone. She can be very mean, but is also frequently picked on. We try to help her socialize, but it is a struggle. Anyway, I looked up while bandaging Misael and there was a shoving match going on. I try not to raise my voice because of the trauma some of these kids suffer at home. So I got up and walked over calmly. I told them very firmly if they did not stop they would not be allowed to play the game. Everyone else stopped and started blaming each other. I said, as I always do, that I don't want them to blame each other. If they cannot play nicely, they cannot use the game. At that point the girl shoved a boy. I stepped between them and she kicked me! I told her calmly and softly that she cannot play the game today. She can play tomorrow, but not today. Then she cursed, which set the other kids off. I put my arm around her and reminded her that she has a choice. She can play another game and use appropriate language or she can choose to leave. She stood her ground for a while, but finally walked away. A minute later I saw her leaving. I felt bad. I don't know if she will eat today. But I also know she understands the rules and we do not allow fighting or bad words. I had to remind myself that it was her choice to leave as I watched her walk away.
We got done early because the kids didn't have to take showers for school, since it was closed. After the kids left I checked my email and found the financial update I've been waiting for. There were 2 new donations, which I appreciate, but no new monthly donations. I talked to Lourdes about the idea that when she leaves in 3 weeks to visit the states, I may not see her again - at least not as soon as we are hoping. Lourdes, the kids and I are still praying that I can live in Honduras, but now we are adding a lot more emphasis on "if it is God's will". If God wants me to serve here, He will be sure I have the finances. One time donations help me do extra things for the kids, but only monthly donations allow me to have a budget to live here.
I vowed not to watch the news when I got home. The news does nothing but upset me, so I am going to keep busy in other ways. Tonight I watched stupid sitcoms. I'm not ashamed to admit it. When you live in a country with so much sadness and hurting, sometimes you need a few stupid sitcoms. It can get really overwhelming when the violence and negativity seems endless. In a poll on the Honduran morning news today, 75% of the people said they do not believe the violence will end. It got to me today. How do these people live like this every day? How do they see a body on tv and not wonder if it is someone they know, when the violence hits so close to home constantly?
Tonight the same announcement they used to announce the toque de queda came on the tv. Ughhh! I heard it so many times when I lived here before and it was always bad news. I got nervous, wondering what was happening, thinking about how much food and water I have in the house. But it was the president saying that swift action will be taken and violence will not be accepted. He assured people that the killers of Alfredo Villatoro will be found. However, I can't help but think of the statistic I saw back when I lived in the states. 90% of murders in Honduras are never solved according to CNN presents "Honduras: The Deadliest Region on Earth".
As much as I want to be here, as much as I love it here, it would be very hard to live with the things these people face every day. Jairo has been trying to tell me. He has so many stories as he drives through the city pointing out various corners where innocent members of the church were shot and killed. I listen to the stories. I think about how terrible it is, but I haven't FELT the pain until now. Honduran people have been living like this, with things only seeming to get worse and worse, since I left 3 years ago. My heart aches today.
