Festival of Corn

This is my favorite season. I always forget how much I love it until it's here. All day it's sunny and hot. The sun is really, really strong. But then around 4 pm the clouds roll in, it starts thundering in the distance and rain follows. Sometimes there are huge thunder storms. It's excellent weather for sleeping. It rains until midnight, then lets up so by morning it's not too wet outside.

As I was cooking dinner today I was thinking about Erika. A year ago at this time we celebrated her birthday. Soon afterward I noticed she was no longer excited about the idea of completing high school and then she told me she was pregnant. This afternoon I was sad that we hadn't talked in two months. An hour later I got a collect call from her!

She said everything is the same. She turned 18 two weeks ago, but they didn't celebrate because they didn't have $5 for a cake. (People here always buy cakes. They don't bake at home. Erika doesn't even have an oven.)

Her mother is taking a beauty class through my program, Impacto Juvenil, because Lorenzo is in one of our clubs in Los Pinos. That makes his family eligible for the services we offer.

Marjory was going to the breakfast program at the church for a while. Ana had told me that. I was surprised when Erika said she is no longer sending Marjory since one of the church members sent Marjory home for crying. Erika said that the person in charge of the program has encouraged Erika to send Marjory again, but Erika is wary. I assured Erika that if the person who is in charge wants Marjory there, then she should send Marjory to the church. It seemed like Erika may send Marjory tomorrow.

I might see them. I have to pick some of my coworkers up at the church in Los Pinos and take them to meet with another pastor in Los Pinos. They are looking for a different locale as a home base for Impacto Juvenil in Los Pinos.

I played my violin for the dance class at my church on Saturday. It went pretty well. I have some photos of the class that I'll upload tonight, but no photos of me playing.

Saturday afternoon Fany, Laura and I went to visit her in-laws. The annual corn festival was Saturday night in their little village. Fany's husband is the organizer. All of the people of his ting village get together and make corn products which they donate for the event. Unlike other Honduran corn festivals, all of the food at this one is free!

There is a traditional band with 3 guitars which look like banjos, two violins that the people play pressed against their chest perpendicularly, a bass, a drum set, bongos and a special set of keys they play with a "hammer". The band plays from 7 pm until 4 am! I was physically tired just playing for two hours in the church, I wondered how in the world they played for so long.

All of the food was free!

There was both boiled and fire roasted corn

Atol, which is corn pudding

Corn Bread

"Fritas" or fried corn patties

Me with elotes and atol

The drive there was pretty

Laura loves her car seat in my car

The little village where Fany's husband grew up is really small. In the middle of town there is a one church and a one room school with one teacher for all of the kids. Houses are scattered out from there. Her parents have a two room house with an additional room they added for Fany's husband. Basically everyone sleeps in one room, but that is not so strange in Honduras.

Fany said at first his family thought I would not be comfortable in their house. I've visited a few times before. They asked Fany why she wanted to bring me there. Their village is way out in the country. They have an outhouse and no indoor place to bathe.

This time Fany said his parents have officially accepted me. His father gave me a huge bag of red kidney beans he grew himself. I learned a new appreciation for beans. I never thought about how precious each individual bean is before. They have to be shelled, then sorted, then dried in the sun, then cleaned. It's a meticulous and time consuming process which I got to witness for the first time Saturday and Sunday.

His mom called me "daughter" which Fany said is a big deal. She made all sorts of food, just for me. Fany said it took two years before she treated Fany that way.

Fany, Santos, his Mom, and I all stayed up until four a.m. Saturday night. Then Laura woke us up at 8 a.m., so we spent Sunday sitting on the porch, enjoying the breeze and eating when we were hungry. Fany, Laura and I drove back into the city on Sunday evening, still exhausted but happy, with a trunk full of food.

Great Grades in Literacy Class

This week was the written exam for Literacy Class. I was completely and totally shocked at how well the students did. I was thinking they needed an extra week to study, but it turns out they know a lot more than they let on.

One student I thought would fail only missed one point, and that was because he put an extra "n" in "mano" (hand). Four of the 7 got 100% and the other two only missed one. Doña Francisca was able to do two of the three pages, which for her was great success. I didn't expect her to do any.

After the class I laid out clothes that Fany donated and everyone got to choose four pieces of clothing. They were super psyched!

Who got 100%? (Plus one more who went home sick.)

They asked if I want a turkey
This is not what I expected

This hat cracked me up
It's made of shiny material that feels like CDs

Finally got a smile out of Noemy's husband!

It's a Go for Literacy

I've got 15 minutes until literacy class. It's overcast, looks like rain. But we won't melt. (Although everyone will have a fit because I have a cold and in Honduras you are NEVER supposed to get wet if you have a cold.)

I am extra excited today because Fany gave me TONS of clothes of all sizes for my students and their families. The little boy who runs around with only a shirt will now have a pair of pants! We'll see if he wears them.

Yesterday as security gave me a ride home from my club they asked if I am going to the literacy class this week. I told them the whole story of how I had cancelled the class to go to the doctor, which was odd because I never go to the doctor and at first the doctor couldn't find anything wrong, but later it turned out that I would have been in the middle of a gang war if we had gone.

After listening to the whole story the driver thought for a second. Then he asked, "So are we going tomorrow?"

I said, "Yes. So far it's a go. God hasn't told me anything different yet, but I'll let you know if He does."

We all laughed.

Watching the funeral procession

Today was a sad day for my coworkers. As we taught and played with and scolded our club of 25 kids at Impacto Juvenil, a graduate of the program passed by in a casket with a large funeral procession.

Yesterday my coworkers said they went to the calling hours in boy's the home. Today I could hardly understand what they were saying through their tears.

They said he was a sweet boy, but he had his vices. They said they were always scolding him and begging him to change his ways.

Yesterday he was driving a moto-taxi (a tiny carriage carried by a motorcycle) when he was assaulted. According to word on the street, he asked his attackers to let the passengers out of the moto-taxi and he would work things them. But they shot his the top of his head off.

The rumor is that they were trying to rob his telephone, but he never carried a telephone, so everyone knows that is not true.

It was sad to be standing in the same place where he once played and learned and grew, watching his 20 year old body go by in a casket in the back of a pickup truck with a long line of moto-taxis following behind. It made me worry for our kids.

My coworkers were extremely worried about his mother, who appeared to be alone. They wanted to comfort her and be at her side. Normally they would have accompanied her, but today they had the next generation of kids to watch over as the funeral procession passed by.

The experience made me realize that I will never really be a part of them (my coworkers). I will never understand the pain of watching a child they helped to raise pass by in a casket. I will never understand the danger they face every day when they leave their homes. I will never understand how it feels to send my child to school and pray they make it home safely. I can't comprehend those things because I've never lived them. As I tried my best to console them, I will always be a step away from truly understanding how they feel.

The Problem with Manna Packs in Honduras

After seeing the same problem over the years and throughout various communities, I decided to do a poll regarding "manna packs" or fortified rice packages that the US often sends to hungry countries. My experience has been that the families think they taste strange and don't like them.

I started thinking about it more deeply when a family at my church said they had no food last week. Then on Sunday the church handed out manna packs to every family, including me, which tells me there were a lot and someone needed to get rid of them. They were expired in April 2016 - another sign that they were having a hard time finding a home.

As they were handed out I was talking with the family who said they have no food. I know there are many more families within my church who rarely have food. But few wanted their manna packs. I have seen this same phenomenon happen with other families over the years who I know are hungry. Why would hungry people turn down food?

So I asked. The mother of the family that had no food last week says her family will not eat them. She said they do not taste good and she doesn't have the vegetables or spices necessary to make them taste good, so they will just sit on her shelf.

When I got home I took a poll on a Facebook page called "Missionaries in Honduras". It is a closed group with 791 members. What I learned is that if the rice is prepared FOR the people, with seasonings and added veggies or meat to "mask" the flavor, people will eat it.

When people are shown how to prepare the meals at home, it is assumed they will have vegetables or meat to add to the packets for flavor. But the people who have money to add vegetables or meat, would never choose to eat the fortified rice because they do not like the taste.

Remember, rice is a basic staple in Honduras. Honduras grows its own rice. Hondurans have their personal way of cooking rice and they are proud of their cooking. 

Through the poll I learned the packages are mainly being used by feeding centers for large groups of people. Feeding centers have the resources to add chicken or veggies and make the packages more palatable. But the packages are hand packaged by the senders in a very time consuming process. They are family sized portions intended to be cooked in individual homes. In this case the manna can be useful, but the packaging should be reassessed.

Another missionary suggested that a portion of the money spent on these packets be donated locally in Honduras, so the packets could be assembled with rice grown here, and seasonings that local people like. He noted that it would cost a lot less, would create jobs and also support the local economy. He also said he doubted that would ever happen because the marketing behind these programs is immense and, understandably, people like the feeling of sending something they made themselves.

Which made me think of Christmas gifts. You know those gifts that are given because the giver thinks they are nice, but the giver is not considering the recipient's needs or personal taste? What happens to those gifts? They are re-gifted. I have seen the manna pack "re-gifted" over and over through the years because it is not meeting the recipients' needs or taste.

I am told that people are very defensive about this topic. I didn't know that when I posted within the missionary Facebook page. I received private messages saying that people believe the packs are a waste of time and the money could be more wisely spent, but some didn't want to say that publicly because they are afraid people would stop giving.

It seems we all share the same fear. If we speak out, we fear the generosity will end. Check this out:

Before I became a missionary, I visited Honduras for a summer. My host pointed out a church. He said, you see that church? That church has been painted four times in six months. Surprised, I asked why. My host told me that people from the US wanted to help. I asked why the Honduran people didn't tell the US teams that their church didn't need paint. He said the Hondurans were afraid to offend someone.

So what should we do?

In the end, nobody will say they do not want a gift. They don't want to discourage generosity. But I feel qualified to say that manna packs or fortified rice are not the best way to go in Honduras unless you know a specific feeding center that really needs them. Manna packets are being regifted until they pass the expiration date. On the occasions that they are eaten, they are usually not enjoyed in the way (I believe) the sender imagined.

There is a better way to help the people of Honduras. Here are my suggestions:

Give prayerfully. God will lead you.

Ask yourself what are your intentions. Be aware of why you are giving. Is it to meet your personal needs or the needs of those you are serving? Or both? Be honest.

Ask the people you are serving what they need. Ask them how you can help. Keep in mind their answer may not make sense to you. Each community has their own, individual needs which depend on many factors.

Remember that they will always accept anything you offer and they will be grateful for your good intentions.

Thank you for all you are doing to support the people of Honduras! Your help is appreciated! My hope in sharing this information is not to discourage your donations, but to encourage you to support us in the most effective and efficient way so your resources are not wasted and your donations are most beneficial.

He Knows

Today could have been a really crappy day.

First my the water heater in my shower died. I was long overdue for a shower, so I braved the freezing water. It was cold and uncomfortable. My Honduran friends scolded me for not heating the water on the stove. But who has time for that. They would also say that's why my cold has suddenly gotten worse.

Then I lost my phone. Turned out I left it at church, so at least it's in a safe place.

Then I bought myself a new hot water heater but it was the wrong one. (And a creepy guy was saying gross sexual innuendos as he was selling me the shower heater.)

Then I locked myself out of my house. Turns out my house is impenetrable. Which is a good thing 99.9 percent of the time. Just not today.

Who has their water heater die, loses their phone, and locks himself out of the house all in one day? Oh, and my towel bar fell off the wall when I tried to hang up my bath towel.

On the other hand, I got to experience a really cool new ministry at my church, the same creepy shower salesman came to my rescue when the store didn't want to accept a return, my phone was safe at the church, and it wasn't raining or nighttime when I was locked out of my house.

Plus God spoke to me really clearly at the dance ministry today and left me feeling very peaceful.

One of the families who recently joined my church has two sons and a daughter. The daughter is a talented musician and a really sweet young woman. The older son is a prophet.

I'm still getting used to all of this prophecy stuff. I know my Pastora is a prophet because God used her to prophesize in 2009 that I would serve in Honduras. But I tend to be on the more skeptical side when it comes to other people besides Pastora Ruth.

Pastora Ruth has chosen to allow Jeremy, the young man with the gift of prophecy, to start a dance ministry. They asked me to play the violin for their performance next week, so I went to the class today to get a taste of what they are doing.

God gave me a big treat!

As they started to pray Jeremy heard God's voice and ministered to many of the people there. Afterward he said that was very unexpected, but it was a beautiful experience.

He was ministering to the people in his class. Then he went back up to the altar and he stopped. He came back down to where I was standing and shared the most beautiful words from God. They were things that he couldn't possibly know. Things that nobody knows except God and me. It makes me cry to think about it.

Through Jeremy, God acknowledged the pain that I have felt for various reasons. He acknowledged the hurt that has damaged my heart, but is now being healed. It is amazing to be acknowledged by God. To feel heard and seen and understood by my heavenly father is all I need. God acknowledged the bad things as part of my past. He said I have been taken advantage of but that has already come full circle.

He said I have cried for the people I serve and it pains me because I can't help them all. At that moment I felt how God also hurts for ME the same way that I hurt for the people I serve. That was the most amazing feeling - to know that God is sad for the ways I have been hurt. I never imagined it that way before. It is healing to know that He feels my pain. He carries my burdens for me.

God said that He anointed me to serve here. Everything He said were things Jeremy could never have known. It was powerful and brought me peace to have the Holy Spirit confirm that God is here with me.

Although I suffered some inconveniences today, I am still grateful for this day. Today I understand that if my heart hurts, God's heart hurts too. In other words, He knows it, He sees it and He's got it handled.

Abigail, talented musician, sister of Jeremy

The class

Jeremy, leader of dance ministry, prophet

Peace March

We did a peace march today. Things have been too crazy lately on the streets of Honduras. The kids agree. So my club of kids along with the other clubs in that community organized a march for peace. Two schools joined us, as well as a church's dance team and some kids who are learning to walk on stilts in a club from another community.

It was a typical peace march - What do we want? Peace! When to we want it? Now!

The part that was not typical were the military police and Honduran Police that were sent to accompany us. A North American girl who started a fellowship with my association a couple of weeks ago had her own police assigned to her and was told not to leave the officer's side. When that same officer saw that I had a camera she assigned me to sit in the back of the police's pick up, which was fine with me since I am still not feeling well.

(At this point I must interrupt myself to admit that I lied to you yesterday. I told you I would not take 1000 mg of acetaminophen. My throat has been KILLING me and I took 1000 last night, a 1000 this morning and 1000 at noon. Speaking of which, I need to take another 1000 right now.)

The sore throat has turned into an eye burning, stuffy nosed, burning throat that hurts when I breathe with a headache and occasional earache. I have a feeling today may be the first day I don't play my violin. I'm exhausted. And I have to say, it doesn't seem fair because I still have pain from the Chikungunya.

I think photos can best describe the march. Enjoy!

Praying before the march

Police

More Police

Police leading the march

New coworker with undercover police at her back
and more police watching in front

Military Police and their big guns

Military Police taking photos of the stilt walkers

Peace!

Mothers of the our kids marched too

The church group
They were so professional!
They marched for over 2 hours in the heat with those flags

Impacto Juvenil

The crowd loved it when I got this guy to give us the peace sign

The end of the parade

Kids who graduated from a Impacto Juvenil
and now volunteer with us

Police leaving the march

How a sore throat may have saved my life

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night with a really sore throat. After that I didn't sleep well. It was hurting a lot.

This morning I was trying to decide what to do. Of course the Honduran solution at the first sign of a cough or any ache is to take an antibiotic. But I was raised differently.

I took a flashlight over to Fany's house and asked her to look into my throat. She said she saw pus, just like she saw in Laura's throat two weeks ago when Laura spiked a fever and was sick for a few days.

I was thinking about the peace march tomorrow and the dance class I'm supposed to attend on Saturday in preparation for my grand violin performance the following week. I really don't have any time to rest or go to the doctor until next Tuesday.

Fany reminded me that the people in my literacy class don't have the greatest defense systems due to malnutrition and general poverty. She said it might be best if I didn't go to class today. I was thinking of the second part of the exam which they are supposed to take today. It would be best for them not to wait an extra week with no class before their exam.

I called a coworker. She said a firm no. It's been raining every evening and she didn't want me out in the rain with a sore throat. She said to call and advise the class, then cancel our transportation. So I did, but I was not pleased about it.

I called the health clinic. They said they could see me in an hour, so I headed out to the doctor. I figured if I did need an antibiotic, I should get started on it right away. Then I might feel better in time for the peace march tomorrow.

The same doctor who saw me for Chikungunya was the one who treated me today. He speaks perfect English. I told him that I normally would never come to the doctor during the first few hours of a sore throat, but I have a busy weekend ahead and I wanted to get a jump on the sore throat.

He looked in my ears and down my throat and told me he couldn't see anything at all. (So much for Fany's pus.) I felt foolish but my throat was killing me. He listened to my lungs. No surprise, nothing there. Then he had my lie down and pushed on a spot above my belly button. OUCH!!! I asked why it hurt so much, wondering what I had eaten to cause so much damage to my belly. He said that is where your body fights off a virus. I should have remembered that from when I had Chikungunya.

He told sent me for bloodwork and told me he would see me in an hour.

While I was waiting for the bloodwork I got a phone call from another missionary. She serves in Los Pinos. She said she just came out of Los Pinos and it was worse than she has ever seen it. She said there were 10 gang members with AK 47's on every corner. They were mad, she said, because people from Villa Nueva, which is the front side of the mountain with all of the houses where I climb up to Las Minitas, killed two gang members from Los Pinos yesterday. So today every gang member in Los Pinos is headed to Villa Nueva for revenge.

My friend remembered I had class today and wanted to warn me.

I've never been so happy to be in a doctor's office in my life! Finally it all made sense. While I was feeling guilty for canceling class, the sore throat and the strange notion that I should have it looked at right away by a doctor was all God's plan to keep me out of the middle of a gang war!

I immediately called my coworkers and the head of transportation to tell them to stay out of that area. They were grateful for the heads up.

Then the doctor called me in to give me the results of my bloodwork. He said, "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

I told him I didn't believe there was any bad news so I'd take whichever.  He said I don't have dengue fever, which I had never considered before, but I do have a virus, just as I thought. He gave me a prescription for suero, which is a thing they do here. It's like high test gatorade or something. And he told me to take 1000 mg of acetaminophen every 6 hours. I will not be doing that. That's too much. I'll take half as needed.

I told him about the phone call, and that I finally understood why I had come to the clinic. I had waited nine days with Chikungunya before I sought medical attention. It was truly strange that I would go to the doctor for a sore throat that appeared only hours before.

He said, "So I saved your life today then!" We laughed.

Then he told me that he opened the health clinic in Los Pinos. He delivered the first baby ever delivered there! He said he loved sitting on top of those mountains early in the morning before the fog lifted. It was beautiful, he said. We bonded over our common love for Los Pinos. He turned on the radio as we talked and searched for a song. He stopped when he found "Take it Easy" by the Eagles. I thanked him for his help and as I headed out the door he said, "Be safe. And take it easy!"

It will be interesting to hear what happened between the young men of Los Pinos and those of Villa Nueva. I am just grateful that God kept my coworkers, my class members and me out of the the middle of it.

My First Performance?

Ready for a good laugh?

In 2009 I took violin lessons for 6 months. I didn't work that hard at it, but enjoyed it a lot and my teacher said I have natural talent.

While I was in the US I got a violin. After I got back to Honduras, I sat down for the first time in seven years and played. It was great! For eleven days I've played every day for an hour or two. I am surprised at my self discipline, although it's less about self discipline and more that I really love to play!

Some days I'm surprised at how quickly I'm improving. Other days, like today, I am reminded that I am still a squeaky beginner. And finding the right notes is really hard on a violin.

Last week I posted a video of myself playing the violin on Facebook. The video was not supposed to be about my playing. It was about how Jetty, my cat, was interrupting my practice. She  kept climbing onto my shoulder, headbutting me and the violin. (It think my playing may have been causing her physical pain.)

Since then I've gotten serious complements on my playing. I don't play well. I'm still playing Three Blind Mice and Jingle Bells. I know how to play exactly 9 notes. I learned how to play half notes on Sunday. Eighth notes were Monday's lesson. In the US I would say I am learning to play the violin. But in Honduras, either you play or you don't. And they've seen that I play. I posted it on Facebook! So by Honduran standards, I play the violin.

Tonight I was asked to play for a big event with the dance team with my church. I went into my big explanation about how I've only been playing for eleven days. They said yes, but you already knew how to play, so you'll be fine. The event is in 10 days. (They said that like 10 days is a lot of time to practice.)

I really do want to play, but I really don't think I'm good enough yet. So I explained that to them and said they can send me the music and I'll see if I can play it.

No, they said, you don't even need to learn any music. We are doing a free flowing (jam session) time of music. You will be accompanying a piano. You can just play as the Holy Spirit moves you. WHAT!????? I'm supposed to just "jam" on my violin. As if that would be easier!

I drove home thinking about all of this. In the US we wait until we are prepared, then we say that we are able to do something. In Honduras people step out in faith, or step out in the process of learning.

I have a friend in Honduras who is at school to be a doctor. I was shocked to see a photo of her on Facebook in her very first year wearing a white jacket that says "doctor" on it. That would never fly in the US until she had the actual degree in her hand. She is doing all sorts of hands on things that we wouldn't do until we were years into our studies in the US. It's the same with dentists, psychologists... Sometimes it really freaks me out. Sometimes I think it's cool.

One of the times I think it's really cool is at talent shows. At talent shows in Honduras people of all ages participate. They don't wait until they are good at something. They stand up in front of everyone with no shame and do what they love, whether they are "good" at it or not. I love watching Honduran talent shows. It's not a competition, it's about sharing what you love with others.

So, I am going to take the Honduran approach. I am going to practice with the dance team at their rehearsal. If I am not a distraction to their dancing, I will perform with them the next day. The leader of the dance team is sending me a link about how to "free flow". And I do have ten whole days to practice. Hahaha! This is going to be interesting.

Yesterday I took Ana and her family to the movies. It was their first time ever in a movie theater. They were perfectly behaved. They didn't speak or wiggle during the movie, except to go to the bathroom. Isabella is freaking me out. She talks like an adult! Samuel is seven years old now and Jired is about to turn 18. It was a super nice day. The movie is half price on Tuesdays. Tickets were only $2.50 each. We have plans to go back next week to see The Secret Life of Pets.

Ana and her family

Monday Rainy Monday

My boss was really excited to hear that we have 73 books to start a library in Nueva Suyapa. I think she was actually shocked. She left to go on vacation and I was talking about the idea of starting a library. She came back and we have 73 books in Spanish! (Everyone is always careful to clarify that the books are in Spanish. I think a lot of books have been donated in English which have gone unused.) I guess 73 books is quite an accomplishment. I don't mean to sound greedy and I am sooooo appreciative of what we already have, but I am dreaming bigger now. We'll see how these books are received, but I am hoping for hundreds of books!

I have officially conquered the first half of my first violin lesson. Good thing I bought the first three lessons! I can't believe how disciplined I am about practicing. I haven't missed a day yet and it feels great! Jetty, however, does not enjoy my playing as much. I've started practicing standing up as much as possible because I read that posture can make a big difference in playing the violin. The Chikungunya limits the length of time I can stand, but I'm doing what I can. Today when I started playing a high D, Jetty tried to climb up my body from behind. She then got her nails clipped, which limited her climbing for the rest of my practice session.

It's been raining almost every day at 4:30 p.m. I absolutely love this weather. Hot during the day, and then it cools off and rains all night. It's perfect.

In Honduras there are several rainy seasons. The main one you'll hear about is supposed to come in May. But since I've lived here it comes late or not at all. Then there are a few weeks of rain in September and a few weeks of rain in January. In January it can also be dark and really cold. I don't like that one so much. This season in September, when it rains each evening just as you're arriving home and thunders as you are falling asleep, is my kind of rain. Perfect for violin playing.

Tomorrow I am picking up Ana and her family after the kids get home from school. We are going to see the movie "The BFG" and eat hot dogs and popcorn. Ana told me yesterday that she does not want me to walk on the streets of Los Pinos anymore. She said it's not like before. It's no longer safe.

She is doing better in her house. They arrested the main perpetrator who was shooting all of the time near her house. But gangs have taken over the house of the man who is in jail and it is still not safe.

It is hard for my coworkers to serve in Los Pinos. They have not been able to do home visits to some of the families they serve because of safety issues. Today I suggested that they ask the families to meet them out on the main street. At least that way they could meet the kids' parents. Things are also difficult for my coworkers at their home base in Los Pinos. They may be changing locations soon. We will still serve within Los Pinos, but from a different home base.

Violin Practice

Practicing my violin 1 & 1/2 - 2 hours/day doesn't leave much time for blogging, but I am loving it! Today I got past where I was after six months of lessons with my violin teacher. I still have to go back and clean things up, but I'm feeling great on this new adventure!

Jetty has finally gotten used to me playing. She still gets anxious when I go above middle C, but she's not being as forceful in her attempts to distract me.

I can feel the day coming when I won't be able to Google my questions and will need a live teacher again. Not really looking forward to that day. Nobody can replace my first teacher, Mr. Meyers.

Last Days in NY

Okay, so NY was great. After the reunion I moved into a room at my BFF's parent's hotel. They let me stay there for free, which was super nice.

I got to spend time with my friend Andrea, who is going through a rough time in her life, but handling everything with grace. She drove over an hour to see me in the midst of her crazy life and we had a good time letting loose together.

I was also invited by a family I've never met before to have dinner and discuss what I am doing in Honduras. They have served short term missions here, so it was nice to be their connection to Honduras and to eat stuffed shells!

I got to have two days of quality time with my friend Kelly and her family. Her kids absolutely freaked me out. I saw her oldest daughter before she was walking. Now they are in college! One of her daughters looks and acts just like Kelly. It's like being with Kelly when Kelly was that age. Only her daughter is less shy than Kelly. The other daughter is more serious and focused. She is going on to law school! Kelly's son is hilarious. He kept coming up with these funny one liners and we would all look at eachother and laugh. At one point he said, "I hope I have old friends who visit me when I'm old. I think I'll need a laugh by that point." I guess he thinks his mother and I are old. And we laugh a lot. He was super well mannered and sweet. Being around them made me wish I could see them more often.

Kelly and I went on some adventures. Her eldest plays in the local professional band, so we went to see them play at the local nursing home where Kelly's Mom has to live now. Kelly's Mom has lost a lot of her memory and her father is 89 years old. He still runs his own store and climbs trees to sit in tree stands for deer hunting. He's in great shape. But they realized the best thing for her mom is professional care. I felt sad for Kelly's Dad. He is doing everything within his power to make the most of his life but I can't imagine how he feels being alone in the home where he raised his family.

It was good to see Kelly's father. I also got to see my high school swim coach. She was also my boss when I lifeguarded in the summers during high school. She is the person who taught me how to swim the butterfly. I was so happy to be able to tell her that I taught three people in Honduras how to fly and a hundred more how to swim.

Kelly and I also went to get my favorite ice cream in the world. Honduras has horrible cake and horrible ice cream. Desserts are not a big thing here. Probably because they are not very good. I had a chocolate/vanilla twist at Mercers which I am still dreaming about.

I'm holding Kelly's cone while she takes the picture.

Afterward we went to the pools, which is a spot on the river where nice swimming holes formed in the rocks. It was my favorite hang out in high school. Kelly said she hasn't been there since we were young, even though it's close to her house. I think it was as good for her as it was for me, to get out and see some of the fun things there are to do in our little village.

We stayed up late talking, just like teenagers, only this time her kids joined us. Kelly has a wonderful life with her kids and a successful dancing school, but I think she enjoyed a little change of pace while I was in town.

I also got to spend time with my friend Tim. He was the one who took the time and spent a bunch of money to fix up a car for me to drive while I was in New York. He seemed to enjoy fixing up the car, but I know he had other things that he could have used that money for. The good news is, he just got called to go back to work after being laid off for a long time. So he was free to hang out with me while I was in town and now he'll be busy working again. He and I had a great time together. We went to the reunion stuff, to the firemen's field days, and he ate dinner with me whenever I was free. He and his father also drove all of the way to the airport to pick up the car when I was done, so that I wouldn't have to go 3 hours out of my way on the day I flew out. I am very appreciative of all Tim did for me to make my trip a good one. He is a good friend.

After seeing everything and everyone I could, I headed off to Syracuse. The only person I missed was one lady, Linda. But I couldn't get in contact with her. In Syracuse I met up with my old boss from college and we went to surprise one of our friends who is a musician. Turned out the owner of the venue where our friend was playing is also an old friend, so it was like a big reunion.

Jack had also received my violin in the mail. He took it to a friend of his and asked them to see if it needed any work. They said it was in great shape. They just polished it up and sent it along to me. He also got me a music stand which fit in my luggage perfectly. I was super grateful that he took the time to do that and put the violin into my hands.

From there I went to Ithaca, where my college roommate's father was being honored at Cornell University. They planted a lot of rare trees in his memory and dedicated them in his name. My college roommate lives in London. We haven't seen eachother since the day she was married 20 years ago. It was nice to spend a little time getting to know her husband and meet her children for the first time. I was honored to be invited to the dedication.

Jack and I planned to spend more time together Saturday evening, but he was sick, so I ended up hanging out with my friend Jamie, the musician. I was eager to hear him play his original music, as he had been doing a Bruce Springsteen tribute the night before. Unfortunately, a huge storm rolled in and he was playing outside, so I got to hear two songs before we packed up all of his equipment and left. We did go out for a very nice dinner and he introduced me to a good friend of his who is now a generous supporter. I miss nice dinners like that when I'm in Honduras. It was delicious.

The next morning I drove to Saratoga Springs where I spent the last 48 hours with my high school friend Ingrid. We talked about high school and were surprised at how much we had going on in our lives that, although we were good friends, we never shared with anyone. I thought that was kind of sad. We could have trusted one another, but for some reason we each kept our personal struggles to ourselves.

First I caught her up on the past 28 years of my life. Then she caught me up on the past 28 years of hers. We had two really nice dinners at her house. I've never enjoyed beef stroganoff as much as I enjoyed hers. We had plans to sit out on her deck, but we never got around to it. I guess that gives me a good excuse to go back!

It was so nice to see everyone and to realize that the people who were special in my life are still special. Time has passed, but we still connected like when we were kids. I did a lot of messed up things as a teen, but I did one thing well. I chose good friends. I loved being with every one of them.

The fundraising did not go as I hoped. But investing my time in reestablishing relationships was extremely healing for me. I think it also made people more genuinely interested in what I am doing and why I am in Honduras. A lot of people I saw in NY are following me more closely on Facebook. They also responded well to my newsletter. If they donate now it will come from the heart because they sincerely care about my mission and the people I am serving. I think that was God's plan all along.

I never thought I'd say this, but I hope to get back to New York soon. Besides horrible airline experiences, it was one of my best times in the US to date.

Breasts, Babies and Bookshelves

Two things have been on my mind lately, before I finish writing about the trip to NY.

First, at the literacy class two weeks ago one of my students mentioned that she has a lump in her breast. I can't remember how it came up. She said it hurts when she sleeps on her back and if she wears a bra. She went to the doctor once and he told her she needs treatment. (I didn't understand exactly what treatment, but I don't think she did either.) She can't afford to go back to the doctor now. That situation has been weighing heavy on my heart.

In this culture, the people cover their legs more than in the US, but they are not shy about covering from the waist up. Men stand on the street with their shirt pulled up as if they are airing out their bellies. Usually it's the men with the biggest bellies who roll the bottom of their shirt up to their chest and stand there with their bellies hanging out. It is a strange thing to get used to. Women nurse openly in public and nobody pays any attention. They also generally wear more low cut blouses.

So, I wasn't surprised when my student told me to feel her lump. It's actually the second time I've been asked to feel a lump in someone's breast. This one was pretty big and it didn't feel round.

That same day she showed me a picture she had drawn with colored pencils I gave them before I went to NY. The picture was a baby boy, curled up in a ball, inside of something blue. I knew immediately what it was. A baby inside of a mother's stomach. She showed me the drawing and said, "This is my boy. They took him away and nobody took a picture of him. I never got to name him, but he was a boy."

My heart ached. I know she and her husband have been trying to have a baby for years. I didn't know that she had ever gotten pregnant. I have seen the photos she talked about. It's hard to see a photo of a dead baby, even though you know it was taken with love for a mother who needed that picture to remember her child. My student really wanted a picture of her baby. So there, among the pages of her homework, she drew her son. I should have told her he was beautiful.

The other thing that's been on my mind is much more pleasant. A friend of a friend has a ministry sending books to kids in Central America. My friend put us in contact with when I published something on Facebook about wanting to start a library for my club of 25 kids. The lady sent us 65 books! Two more friends mailed books to NY for me to pick up while I was there. We now have 73 books to start our library.

Laura has been going nuts because she knows the books are not mine and will not be in my house for long. Fany is reading until her voice is hoarse. They read 18 books in two days. Then they started Charlotte's Web, which slowed their pace a little. But Laura decided that "the life of that poor pig is too sad". It made her cry the first night. She prefers to read happier things.

Yesterday I did something sort of manipulative. I'm not sure I needed to be manipulative, but I didn't dare chance it.

I've been eyeing a locked bookcase in the room where our club meets. It is full of wonderful books, but all of them are in English. The US Embassy sponsors an English class which meets in the same space as our club. The bookcase and the books belong to them. My coworker is responsible for the English classes. He works part time with me and part time with the US Embassy.

Yesterday I approached him and asked how their youth camp had gone to start the conversation. I was interested in the youth camp, but I admit I had ulterior motives. When he finished telling me about the camp I said that I had some books, and since I know that he handles all of the books I wondered if he may have any ideas as to how I should manage these books.

He said he only lends books to parents. The parents come because the kids need the books to do their homework. But my books are mostly fiction. I couldn't imagine parents coming in to borrow fictional books. I said I would have to figure out a way to lend them directly to the kids. He said that when he was a child they had a library and kids left their student ID when they borrowed a book. He suggested that I do the same.

He said the kids will love books in Spanish. They really need them to do their homework, he said. I didn't know how to break it to him that I wanted to bring in a bunch of fiction. I said there are some nonfiction books about Christianity and animals, but my intention in building the library was for kids to be able to read for pleasure. I said I want them to get so lost in a story that they can forget all of the chaos around them. He was taken aback, but I could tell he liked the idea. He warned me that reading for fun is unheard of in this culture. He said I will have to educate the kids and change their way of thinking, because they are brought up to see books as tools they use for school. I said I am looking forward to taking on that challenge. I know reading won't be for everyone, but if even a few want to read they will now have access to books. He seemed very pleased.

Then I asked if he had any ideas about where I might store the books. He said there are many duplicates in his bookcase. I told him I had noticed that and thought maybe if we put some of the duplicates behind one another, we could fit more books in the bookcase. He said sure! It will be a time consuming task, but his books need organizing anyway. I suggested alphabetically by author so he could keep track of his inventory. He said he knew that some libraries do that. So I agreed to organize his books and he agreed to let me have space in his locked book shelves! Win-Win!! We now have books and a locked bookshelf in the club!