Honduran DMV

Today was nothing as I planned.  I spent the day running all over the city, following the incorrect information I was given by Transito (DMV).  Don Juan had to go there because his drivers license was taken from him unjustly by a police man who said he had run a red light when he did not.  So I drove us both and then he went with me to local police stations, searching for the place where I could get the paperwork I needed.

Don Juan found it easy to get his license back.  He didn't even have to pay a fee.  He talked to a lawyer and was given a piece of paper.  Then he had to wait in a line.  At the end of the line he got his license back and was told he would have to pay a lot of money if he got another infraction in the future.

If you lose (as in can't find) your drivers license in Honduras you have to make a report that it is missing, but only at two specific police departments in the city.  Now I know.

I also got my car registered.  It had to be done in September.  For the first time it is in my name and I have the paperwork to prove it.  The dealership had a hard time transferring it to my name and had to make 2 attempts.  Turns out each time they attempt to transfer a car to your name you have to pay $15.  So I paid $30 plus the registration fees which were double what I was told they were.  And tomorrow I drop the car off at the shop to finish fixing the remaining things that needed to be done when I bought it.  I am going to put off buying new tires for as long as I can.  Having a car is a huge blessing.  It is a great car.  But upkeep is time consuming and costly.

Tonight I attended a special workshop about domestic violence.  I didn't realize I had attended the same workshop last year.  It is really good.  There were 13 ladies and 2 men there, all from Los Pinos.  It was a little strange for me because I work with the kids of a mother who attended.  Her kids have told me that their mother is physically abusive to their father.  I was glad the workshop also addressed the fact that women can be abusers too.

Last time the workshop was given by a special lady who is a pastor in the US.  She rode home in the same car as I did.  On the way home she told me that night she believes I will serve women in Honduras.  I had forgotten all about that.  At the time it seemed like something in the distant future.  During the workshop today I remembered that she said that.  Then I remembered the two dreams I had a couple of weeks ago.  I dreamed that I was working with women who were in hiding because they were escaping violent situations.  The two dreams were in different settings, with different people, but they both shared the same theme.  I had them both the same night.  It really felt like they were special dreams.  I thought they were from God.  They stuck with me for a long time.

The ladies who gave the workshop commented about how well I get along with the ladies from Los Pinos.  Maybe I will end up serving them in a way I can not see right now.  That would be awesome.