Honduras: Day 4

In case you missed the previous posts, read these first:
A Whirlwind Vacation

Honduras: Day 1
Honduras: Day 2
Honduras: Day 3


Free Day: July 31, 2011.

Yesterday I think I freaked out for nothing. Today was just what I needed to show me how ridiculous I was being. And while there is truth to my words, things always seem worse when you are completely exhausted.

We started out with church this morning. I don't know whether I like it or not. I loved when we sang "Ancient of Days" and "Come, Now Is The Time To Worship" in Spanish. But when I was ready to sit and listen to the sermon at about the 5th worship song, I feel like we sang 5 before it was over.



The building was hot and stuffy, and even though we were sitting by the window, sweat still poured. But the experience of being an a house of worship in another country is something that I think everyone should try at least once. It seems to put things into perspective - we are literally ALL God's children. It doesn't matter what language you speak, where you live, or what you do for a living because God loves you and wants you to know it. I grew up knowing that we were all children of God, but things like that don't seem to really sink in until you see it in action.

And it was definitely in action, because this little church in one of the poorest parts of the world is pulling together funding to help sponsor a missionary in India! That just blows my mind. These people don't have a lot and yet they are making sure they are giving to someone else. That is seriously amazing.

The pastor that spoke this morning was American. He had been living in Honduras and it was his last week here. He preached about being for the mission and doing good deeds out of love. He said that you can do all the nice things in the world, but if you do not have love then you have done nothing. This seems to be a recurring theme throughout this trip to me. Do the right thing, but make sure you are doing it for the right reason. And if you do not have love in your heart for what you are doing, then it doesn't matter. I don't want to forget this when I finally leave Honduras. I want all of these things to stick with me. I want to be constantly reminded to be loving towards other people. And that will be fun for me, since I am not a people person.

After church we split into two groups. Some of us went to the Valley of Angels to go shopping and the rest of us went to see the Cristo El Picacho statue. I chose to go see the statue because I'd heard the gardens were beautiful. And plus, the statue is so large that you can see it up on the hill from town.

There is a large park where many people were picnicking, playing some form of soccer, talking, laughing. It really just shows you that people are basically the same all over the world. We like the same things, have similar interests, families, hopes and dreams. Watching people from other countries and cultures interact just really makes me think about how funny our own culture is, and how lucky we are to be living where we live.

What is hilarious unto me is the fact that the Honduras would try to practice their English with us. We are obviously American, since our skin is pale in comparison to everyone else, so people would say "Hi!" excitedly in our direction. My favorite moment, though, was this cute little Honduran boy, who was probably 5 or 6, who kept saying "Bye! Bye!" in our direction. His mother told him, in Spanish, that "bye" is "adios" and what he really needed to say was "hi."

On our way back to the bus we passed a zoo. TheMechanic and I begged to go inside and see the animals, and one of the other ladies wanted to accompany us. It cost us 10 Limpiras each to get inside (which is roughly $.50). Inside, the zoo was a little dilapidated and run down. The animals seemed as though they were incredibly bored, as many of them were pacing back and forth in their cages. However, the monkeys were completely entertaining. You could get so close to them that you could actually reach out and high five their little monkey hands. One monkey had even escaped from his cage and was sitting on the roof of his enclosure watching zoo-goers pass him by.

Also, there were animals in this zoo that I never thought I would see in a similar setting. There were raccoons, bunny rabbits, guinea pigs, white tailed dear, and goats. Seriously.

Tomorrow I don't know exactly what is happening, but I may be able to take a trip to the trash dump. I'm sure that will be crazy and hectic and emotional. Some people still live at the dump, but most people just work there now. Although, I don't really know how much better that actually is. I know that the people there will smell horrendous, but I can't even really comprehend what it will be like since I live where I live and I am who I am. It's just absolutely phenomenal that I am privileged to be here and experience this. My eyes are being opened wider everyday. I could not really ask for more right now.

questionable fashion sense

I knew my painting class this semester was going to be difficult when I found out who the professor was supposed to be. I had been dreading attending for weeks upon weeks. And then Monday showed up bright eyed and bushy tailed, making me want to punch it in the face and go back to sleep.

I was so not ready for school this semester. I didn't want summer vacation to end even though it had been the poorest summer of my life. It was just starting to get good! I had been so scared all summer long to let go of PC for fear of what else was out there waiting for me, that it took me three months to finally step away from him and realize how good life could be for me. 

When we broke up I couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be in a relationship with someone else, and when that opportunity arose - I freaked out a little bit. I flipped and flopped back and forth between hanging on and leaping forward. Ultimately, I leaped forward with wild abandon and so far it's been one of the best decisions I've ever made. 

And then it was time for school to start. It was like unto blinking and everything was different. Basically it was as though my summer had completely slipped through my crooked fingers and was gone forever. So there I sat, in front of an easel, with people that I had seen just three shorts months ago. It was my first class of the new fall semester, and as I sat talking with my friend about prospected outlook of our respective class schedules, in walked our professor. 

The professor that I had been so scared of. I looked at him in a way I had never looked at another professor before, and I'll tell you why. These artist types can be so flighty you know, and I will admit that they have questionable fashion tastes at best, but this man. He was amazing unto me. 

His hair was cut short, making his glasses a more prominent feature on his face. Not only were his spectacles rather large, but also they were a translucent sky blue color. They looked plastic and cheap, but necessary. And they were perched on his rather bulbous nose. He was wearing a grey sports coat over a black dress shirt paired with black slacks that were just a tad bit too large for his frame. 

But what really got me was his choice in footwear. You'd think the sports coat and trousers would be accompanied with some nice black or charcoal grey dress shoes, right? Or perhaps a pair of boots, since after all, we are in Idaho. However, on his feet were faded purple crocks. You know, those shoes that were made for use in a garden or lounging around your backyard not to be worn in public. 

I sat for a minute just taking it all in. Purple crocks. Grey sports coat. Who knew? 

He spoke for all of 15 minutes and then dismissed us to pursue whatever else we had planned for the day. I still haven't decided how I feel about this class, being as that I detested my intro to painting class with amazing irritability. I guess we'll have to wait and see just exactly how this class plays out. This semester is already proving to be a new experience, but definitely in a good way. 

is it really my senior year already?

I am heading into my senior year of college - a thing that as a freshmen I never believed was possible. I started college at the ripe old age of 17, just shy of three months after I graduated high school. I was nervous and excited and a little bit scared. I wanted to be a dietitian and teach people about proper nutrition. I wanted to be completely fantastic and do all sorts of crazy things during my college years.

Everybody told me that I would love college, but you know what? I didn't love college. Oh sure, I loved being out of the house and away from my parents. I loved being able to make my own decisions and go to the grocery store at 4 in the morning just because I felt like it. I lived for chocolate muffins, fresh strawberries, and whipped cream.

I flirted with my RA. I pierced my nose. I put the moves on PC at a Halloween party. I fought with my best friend and moved out of our dorm room. I came home for a weekend and didn't tell my parents. I built lasting relationships with wonderful friends. I decided that my major sucked and I heavily reevaluated my motives for even being in school. Because let's be honest, my GPA was in the toilet and I hated basically all my classes.

And then sophomore year completely changed me. I had a new major. I had a boyfriend. I loved every single class I was in except one. I worked my butt off to pull my GPA back up where it needed to be. I felt invincible. I felt like I could take on the world. I felt like I could actually tackle this whole college thing and come out on top. My attitude did a complete 180 and I got right back on track.

My junior year? Well that was probably the worst year of my life. My classes were fine. My grades were acceptable. Emotionally, I was a derailed train wreck for a majority of both semesters. I was up one day and then down for the next week. I had to work to convince myself to get out of bed in the morning, and sometimes I just refused to listen to myself. I was my own worst enemy and I didn't listen to what other people had to say. I knew they were right. I knew I should listen, but sometimes you just have to figure things out for yourself and it has to be you that comes to the decision.

But this year is going to be different. I have friends that are going to be there for me through thick or thin whether I want them there or not. I have a new boyfriend, who is so different from PC in basically every way. It's time for me to grow up. It's time for me to take charge. I have been wallowing and weeping far too long for the wrong reasons. My life is so much more than that.

This year I am going to be the busiest I have ever been. I have five classes, a practicum assignment, a TA job, and I'm still working as a barista.

Sometimes I wish I was wittier and prettier and skinnier and funnier. Sometimes I wish I could go back and make different decisions. And then I remember that I don't need to worry about all those big things because no one can be me better than I can. I am witty and pretty and skinny and funny and a whole bunch of other awesome adjectives too.

My senior year starts on Monday. I am going to make it my best year yet, and after a year like last year, I totally deserve it.

Honduras: Day 3

The Learning Center Building Site. July 30, 2011.

Sorry it took me so long to post again, but things have been super crazy wackadoodle in my life, starting with going on a family camping trip and ending with unnecessary boy drama. And I kept meaning to post about my third day in Honduras, except that I didn't know if I wanted to. I briefly considered just skipping over this day and talking about day four, but then I thought I better at least acknowledge that this day happened.

To be completely honest, I had an awesome and completely exhausting day that ended in a mid-week freak out and feelings of inadequacy followed by sweet, sweet sleep at 9 o'clock in the evening. You see, sometimes I feel like I'm really super not good enough to be on a missions trip and I want people to like me, and occasionally I feel like I screw up even though technically I didn't really do anything wrong. The inner-workings of my brain are seriously astounding, I assure you.

My freak out mainly stemmed from feelings about my past trip to Washington DC when I was a senior in high school. I went with the girls in my small group, and even though I had a mostly positive experience, there were some things that happened there to make me feel like I didn't belong with them. And those feelings made an appearance, albeit a totally brief one and the very next day I was totally fine. So I'm not going to transcribe what I wrote that day, but instead tell you some fun things that I remember about that day.

Like mixing concrete until every muscle in my body ached at the mere thought of picking up a shovel ever again. And I didn't mix near as much as the other guys. This totally aided in the fact that I was checking my eyelids for cracks well before I ever normally even consider drifting off to dreamland. I shoveled and wheeled wheelbarrows full of concrete to various places in the building.

I even tried my hand at flinging mortar on the walls, but the room was crowded and the Hondurans were way more efficient than I could even pretend to be. So mostly I worked with the concrete. But that didn't stop me from getting the mescla (mortar) thrown at my face and down my shirt. Which was AWESOME, by the way. I definitely recommend trying that experience. It was so great, that I actually ended up doing it again Friday (but that's a story for another day).

Anyway, I think the most amazing thing about the entire building project is the bond that the building crew has with the Hondurans they work with. I think sometimes we get really caught up in the mission and getting stuff done that we forget we're actually working with people. These people have personalities and rather large senses of humor, which they use liberally throughout the day. I loved every minute of being with the building crew, and I think I could have worked there the entire week and been fine. There is such camaraderie between each and every guy (or girl, as was the case sometimes) that is just so incredibly special. It's honestly something that you don't find often, and I'm completely blessed to have been able to share in that bond. Out of all the things that happened in Honduras, working with the building crew was definitely my absolute favorite part.

Honduras: Day 2

AFE. July 29, 2011.

Before the day started, we had breakfast at 7 o'clock this morning, followed immediately by devotions. Our pastor, who was able to come on this mission with us, talked about love and doing the right thing for the right reason. Sometimes I'm fantastic at doing the right thing for the wrong reason. Like helping load up the bus because I feel like it's expected of me instead of doing it because I want to help. I find that sometimes I have to sit back and check my motivation to decide whether or not I should continue doing what I'm doing for the reason I am doing it. But tomorrow is a new day with new challenges, which I welcome greatly.

I went to the AFE school today and played with the kids. We played a lot of soccer! So much so that my feet are aching! Those little boys are so good though! I was glad I remembered some of the tricks TheKeeper has taught me over the years, so even though I wasn't spectacular super star quality all the little boys told me I did well.

Jose was the one who played with us the most. He is nine and he let me take a picture with him. He's super sweet and he tried so hard to get us to understand him. He would speak very slow and repeat himself often. Sometimes that didn't make a difference - we just didn't know the language, but sometimes it was very helpful. He was great for practicing the very little Spanish that I do know with. I didn't realize though how many words I actually knew before I got down here. I've never taken a Spanish class and I already knew more than the other girls I was teaming with!

I don't think I drank enough water though, because I don't really feel that great. I played hard today, and it would be a shame if I got sick. I'm laying down before we go to dinner. I'm tempted to go to the pool in a little while, or at least downstairs to see if the wi-fi is on yet. The internet is so very sketchy down here!

Dinner & After:

Tonight's dinner was followed by worship. TheKeeper requested the song "Lord I Lift Your Name On High" because we wanted to do the motions! So the song starts, and then the leader stops to explain that he would like to change the words from "I'm so glad You're in my life" to "I'm so glad I'm in Your life" because God is greater than we are, and it's a reward to be His children. And then we start the song over, sing the changed words, get to the chorus, and we just start doing the motions when Pastor M stops the song again!

He points out that TheKeeper, TheMechanic and I should stand in the front and lead the whole team in our motions. And then everyone sends Dad up there with us, which he totally did not want to do. Haha! Then we start the song again, and the whole room joins in with the motions. We are singing through our laughter, worshiping Christ with joy in our hearts, and I think that's exactly how you're supposed to do it. A joyful noise we will make!

And if you think that was buckets of fun, just wait. Because there's more. (I know! How could there be more!? But there is. And it's amazing.)

Worship had ended and people were dispersing into the lobby for Facebook and e-mails and Skype loved ones, while there were a good many of us who remained in the cafeteria for conversation and drinks. I'm sitting with Dad and couple of other people talking and laughing when one of the girls from my team, who is a hairstylist by career, walks in with her clippers. Dad makes an offhand remark and then has to back track to explain himself.

It seems that he and another gentleman had decided today that if one of them shaves their head bald the other would do it to. I'm not at all certain as to how the agreement came about, but what's important here is that my dad is a "long haired hippie" and shaving his head bald is something that would be completely shocking and a drastic change to say the least. Dad tells her that maybe she can cut his hair tomorrow night.

About 15 minutes later, in walks the guy that my dad made the bet with - you guessed it, completely bald. There is no escaping now, the deed has been done and it's time for my father to step up to the plate. There is loads of laughter from the entire room, and more people trickle in from the lobby to find out what is going on. Dad leaves the room to rid himself of his blonde locks.

Everyone is buzzing about what will my mother say? What do you think he will look like? Man, this seems to be taking a long time! And it did take longer than we had expected, but not just because Dad started out with more hair than his fellow bet-mate, but when came back a baldy-waldy he was joined by hairless Mechanic as well!

I took their picture and quickly uploaded it to Facebook like the good 21st century internet capable daughter that I am and waited for the inevitable mother freak out. It only takes a couple minutes before she comments "AAAHHHH!!"

TheKeeper posted a status update in addition to my picture, to which my mother replies, "You are supposed to keep them from doing this crazy stuff!"

The entire room was in stitches, I believe.

A few of the guys said that the new qualification for being part of the building crew was to be bald, wherein all the eyeballs in the room shifted toward me and the other girl who was planning on working on the learning center tomorrow. Then I had to explain to them that I would look funny bald for a multitude of reasons, the main one being that I had a rather large dent in the back of my head.

No one really believed me.

So I made them touch it. One guy subconsciously wiped his hand off on his pant leg after making contact with the crater that is the back of my skull. He realized what he'd done, and apologized explaining that he couldn't have stopped himself if he tried. He just had to "wipe the creep off." I found that absolutely hysterical because the back of my head gets a variety of reactions from different people. The ones who are grossed out by it used to hurt my feelings because, let's face it, it's not diseased or anything. But now they just make me laugh, because my head is just like yours only shaped funnier. God just made me special, okay? Don't hate.

But now it's bed time, and I'm hoping that tomorrow is more awesome than today, although to be honest I'm not really sure any day will be able to top how fantastic today was. Tomorrow definitely has some big shoes to fill.

Honduras: Day 1

Hotel Mac Arthur. July 28, 2011.

There is so much stuff to do! We saw the building site, the road to where the trash dump is, and a there was a lady sweeping her porch that must've had at least 7 cows!

I wish I could have brought my watercolors - there is so much interesting stuff and so many colorful buildings that would be so fun to paint! Dad said to take pictures and then I could paint from those - which isn't a bad idea, but it's not the same as painting on location. I just got a great idea! I could paint from my pictures once I'm home and see if I could sell those paintings to raise money for Honduras!

Honduras is beautiful, but you can definitely tell you're in a third world country. For one, we can't drink the water. We have to have bottled water everywhere we go and for everything we do - even something simple like brushing your teeth. And you can't flush your toilet paper either. There is a bin that sits next to the toilet where you place your used shtuff. Gross, right? Also, we travel everywhere in a big yellow school bus. The roads are narrow and traffic laws are merely suggestions that not even the police follow. I'm so glad I'm not driving anywhere!

I'm nervous for tomorrow. I don't know what I'll be doing and I don't know what to expect. I'm sure I'll grow a lot, but I'm still in that panic/shock phase. I don't feel like I've really prepared for this properly - I was just thrown right in the middle. Like when you're teaching someone to swim only instead of starting off easy, you just make them jump right in the middle of the lake. Swim or sink style. But I'm so glad for this experience.

I have to be down at breakfast at 7 am. That's going to be tough for the girl who stays up til 2 and gets up at 9:30. I think tomorrow will definitely be a little rough, but nothing I can't handle. It's been a long day, but I'm finally here. I finally made it to Honduras.

A Whirlwind "Vacation" part 1

I have been gone a while, bloggies, I know. I was too busy having an adventure in another country to blog! That and the internet was really sketchy and I was only using my phone because I didn't have a computer, and well, hello! It was an adventure!

You see, my church leads missions trips to Honduras and has been for years. My dad has made four trips, and for the first time I was able to join him. But oh my word was this ever a whirlwind of a trip. It started and ended so suddenly that I didn't really have time to think about what was happening. The entirety of my stay in Tegucigalpa, Honduras involved me actively choosing to stop what I was doing to take in the fact that I was actually in a third world country surrounded by people who didn't speak my language and yet were so happy that I was there. I just had to take time to revel in the fact that I was given a once in a lifetime opportunity, and be completely and totally thankful that I was where I was.

But before I get too far, let's back up for a second. Sunday afternoon I believe it was, I called my mom just for funsies and because I like to hear her voice. But she told me that my great uncle had been involved in an ATV accident, in which he crushed his kneecap and was rushed into emergency surgery. My uncle and aunt are also involved with the Honduran hype, and this accident prevented both of them from taking their trip.

Skip forward to 10:30 that night, my mother sent me a text. This is unusual because normally she's in bed at that time. I'm sitting on the couch in my living room in Moscow, unsuspecting of the glorious opportunity that was just about to be extended to me.

"Do you want to go to Honduras?"

I have to tell you, I just about died. My heart raced, my breathing became shallow, and my hands started to shake. I had trouble texting her back. Seriously? When did they leave? Did I have to fill out paper work? What about shots? How much did it cost?

And the whole time this is going on I'm telling PC over instant message because I can't just sit there and not let someone know what's happening to me! I'm shaking for crying out loud!

Mom told me to sleep on it and pray about it. The trip would be free for me, but they had to talk to one of the trip leaders first and see if the ticket could even be changed to my name. The team was leaving for Honduras on Wednesday. Monday morning my mom let me know the ticket had been transferred over and I needed to pack up my stuff and come home as soon possible.

I made the hour and a half drive by myself. Tuesday was a blur of getting my arm pumped with diseases (and oh how I hate shots!!), shopping, filling out the necessary paperwork and packing. Wednesday involved a bus ride to Seattle and subsequently sleeping on the two consecutive plane rides thereafter before finally landing in our sunny and warm Central American destination on Thursday around lunch time.