A Simple Sunday

if i were a fly upon the wall

attention...i would not call

tiny bird perched on the second floor

peering at the people down below

every movement i feel and every breath i hear

watching the drunken man saturated in his vomit and drowning in his tears

couples blissful holding hands

grandmas stealing flowers of my landlord´s land

robbers, thieves looking through pockets

if i am to witness, am i too a culprit?

man in pressed blue uniform on the corner rifle embraced

trying to force gaiety into his sad face

school girl singing after a delightful meal

hugging herself protecting herself from the mountain chill

little boys playing soccer, no shoes, juice in hand

laughing and frolicking as hard as they can stand

giggling, nibbling on sweet ears of corn

the young maids, beauty captured in their youth, clothes are old ragged and torn

half conscious, hands outreached toward the dark sullen sky

praying and pleading 'i am worth nothing...Lord save me...i want to die'

then body stiffens as if rigor mortis has set in

the parrallels of the universe

one of innocence...the other perverse

one of pure luck...the other a curse

if i were a fly upon the wall

attention...i would not call

tiny bird perched on the second floor

peering at the people down below

every movement i feel and every breath i hear

watching...

as i hold back my joyful sorrowful tears

All the kids in da´ school gettin´ tipsy........

a couple of weeks ago, honduras celebrated Dia de Lempira. According to historical dates. it is believed that lempira was born in 1499. Lempira was a Lenca warrior who was famous for fighting for the rights of the Lenca people. every year he is honored through fiestas. the name of honduran money is derived from the name of this warrior. some say that he actually did not exist and is a representation of all leaders of indian tribes who were in the struggle for freedom, but who knows......

the celebration fell on a wednesday and on wednesdays i go to a small village called el portillo. there were lots of comida tipicas like ticuco and bebida tipicas like atol (typical cultural drinks and food). i ate this..... drank that...... some stuff i liked..... some stuff...... not so much, but you learn after being here a while that you can´t turn down what is being offered to you. well, Lillian, a pregnant lady and mother of one of the kids that is in my group offered me a drink. wasn´t anything out of the ordinary. i just tried like five different drinks and some food, just thought it was another bebida tipica. she extended her arm and offered her drink to me ( which she had been sipping on since i arrived). i reached for the orange plastic cup....a little apprehensive, because i just got through trying the almost most yuckiest stuff i have ever tasted and wasn´t quite ready to try something else as equally disgusting, but i thought "what the hell!! you only live once." hmmmmmmmm!!!!! smells interesting ....kinda tart. what is this called again? chicha. uh huh... and what is it made from? Corn. uh huh......and how do you make it? like the others. uh huh! but it smells.....funny....like alcohol. this is alcohol?? nooooooooo!!!! promise me this isn´t alcohol. are you guys joking with me? noooooooo, we promise. i had my doubts, but why would these lovely catholic god loving women lie to me.(four of them in all) why would a pregnant lady be drinking alcohol. okay so it isn´t alcohol. i´ve smelled weirder stuff. eaten stranger things....

i put the plastic orange cup to my lips, and the mere touch against my lips let me know that i wasn´t about to just taste a bebida tipica but something a little stronger. i gave the cup back and said nu-uh this is alcohol!!! there heads swaying side to side. noooooo!!!! no es alcohol. okay tell me again how do you make this stuff? a woman walks up i guess intrigued by our banter and wanted to get in on the giggling. i asked her. she begins by saying se fermenta..... se fermenta!!!!! well, ladies... that is how you make alcohol. it ferments. you take barley, grain, oats, fruit whatever your heart desires and you ferment it and over a couple of days or weeks it becomes alcohol!!!!! their chins dropped a couple of inches in disbelief. they had no idea what they were drinking and dishing out to their youngsters was in fact able to get one drunk. these ladies thought that because they could make it with their own hands that there was no way that it was alcohol. alcohol is something made with intriquite machinery and such not by their own hands. therefore.... all members of the commmunity: grandmas, grandpas, uncles, aunts, pregnant, unpregnant, and KIDS partake in chicha fun!!!

yes, people, my little 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 year olds were a sippin´that there good ol´moonshine. i proceed to go into the room where i meet with my kids. they ask me did you like the food? yes. did you try the drinks? yes. do you like chicha? no. why not....We Do!!! what?? you guys like chicha? and in unison, the kids broke out SI!!!!!!! NOS GUSTA.

needless to say, the kids were a bit rowdier than usual. high on life......NOPE....tipsy of chicha!!! i was flabergasted at first, but it has been awhile since that incident and....not too surprised. just another interesting fact to add to my what in the world!!! list.

Aiiiiiiii, NO!!!!

Alone v/s Loneliness

If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it´s not because they enjoy solitude. It´s because they have tried to blend into the world before and people continued to disappoint them.

passage from My Sister´s Keeper

by Jody Picoult

Hello... Pretty Bird?!

Despite what my hilarous, thought provoking web entries may have conveyed (ha ha), first months in site were pretty rough. you find yourself plopped into new place ready to fend for yourself. catch what life has thrown at you and also deal with being alone. not that being alone is a bad thing but, also being lonely. thoughts race through your mind...should´ves. would´ves. could´ves. whys- lots of whys. my thoughts picking at my brain just as the shiny headed black beady eyed vultures pick at the dead rats, old garbage and rotten mango peels at the garbage bin outside my house. every day i see these creatures, just as i see myself...my thoughts, devouring me. flying through the air at close range, sitting at times on my balcony waiting.... staring at me as i come out my door, as if they were waiting for me. any sweet thoughts that my brain would come across would then be devoured by my own vultures. thoughts of the past, thoughts of my future. why? i would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat thinking about incidents that had taken place months before and some even years before... my brain trying to erase and rearrange. what i thought was the Aralen (medication we have to take for Malaria known to induce strange dreams) was actually me!! then i found myself during the day... mid stride.... day dreaming or day nightmaring, the same that haunted me in my sleep haunting me as i walked. stopping me in my tracks. what was it?

learning about myself? adapting to a new environment? dealing with loneliness? not having brainless entertainment to numb what thoughts may have been lurking in my noggin when i was back at home in GA? could it be all of these things and then some...reasons that i am unaware of?

these recent weeks have been pleasant, not to say that things still don´t get to me nor to say that everything has been all rosy (who says that anyway???) Peachy!! that´s better. not that everything has been peachy (after all i am from georgia). but they have been going....okay. the kids i work with are great. they remind me of innocence purity.. a life without vultures. with every dark creature lurking about me there are thousands of beautiful ones. some i recognize and many i do not. my goal now is to study them. learn about them and recognize when they are around.

Tis´ life

hello friends. i just was in the middle of writing a lovely web entry about how have been going well these last week and how i have felt more at peace here this week than my first couple of months in site, and then, the power went out and erased it all....................................

ohhhhh well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It matter not.....

It matter not how straight the gate; o´ how many punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate.

I am the captain of my soul.

-W.E.Hensley

Shall I take a poll?

What is a need anyway. you always here people say "I need to do this or blah blah blah." "I really need this dress!" "I need to get my hair done." "I need a car." But do we really need to do anything or have everything? i am taken aback at how some people choose to use this word, need ,even myself ( i feel the same when people use the word friend just having met the person 2 minutes ago or the word hate. hate is just such a mean strong ugly word), anyway...i am guilty of it as well, but i was curious as what good ol´Google had to say about it? so, i decided to look it up.

Need - That which is necessary; a necessary; a requisite; something indispensable

i have used the word plenty of times before, trust me, but i try not to use it too much because what seems to be a neccessity for us isn´t actually. do we really need clothes and shoes. well, maybe in some instances. we all have been told once in our life maybe in school about the 4 basic human needs: shelter, food, health, and safety. without these things we could not survive. one could argue that shoes and clothes would fall under one of those four categories, but i beg to differ. i have seen plenty of people, during my six months here, wearing minimal clothing and no shoes, not even flip flops, walking on scorching hot pavement, rocky gravel filled roads.

anyway, to the next question: how long do you think mayonaise lasts outside of the fridge, in 90 degree weather???? few days, one week, a couple of weeks. Oh nooooo.... a couple of weeks, that is too long, you got to be kidding me right? Nope, folks, actually it lasts way longer than that!! i arrived here in santa rosa the first week in april. Now it is almost the 1st of july (Wow! i will have been here six months on the 19th, not that i´m counting). i bought a jar of mayonaise. the same kind i buy in the states,Helmann´s fat free, lucky me. well, i was told buy one volunteer that he had mayo that lasted him 6 months. this volunteeer had a reputation of being very minimalistic and i wasn´t to keen on the idea of having mayo outside of the fridge any length of time. i use to get wierded out when i went to picnics and the potato salad hadn´t been refridgerated for a couple of hours. How in the world does mayo stay fresh outside of the fridge? this isn´t the north pole. it´s hot outside and about the same temperature resides in my house every single day. i don´t have airconditioning nor a fan to blow on my mayo to keep it cool, so... how can this be? my friend Helman the mayo has written across his back an expiration date 14 June 2005. Today is the 30th of june. i opened it this morning (i wanted to make tuna salad for lunch so i was just checking) and Yep!!! still fresh, tasted fine. no mold. still the same color as when i bought it. sooo, what´s the deal with this expiration date business? i am living proof, mayo does last outside the fridge. mayo will not kill you if you heat it up in the microwave, if my mayo has lasted through this heat for 3 months a little micro zap won´t kill ya. now, don´t let my judgement replace your own, but hey!! just thought i´d let you know. now, i´m not sure if we are told that things expire because they really do.... eventually or because they want us to gobble it all up so we can go buy a new whateveer it is. it may be a little of both. Sooo....

i was entertaining the idea of buying a fridge when i first arrived. i used the phrase, "Uh, uh, i´m not keepin´mayo outa the fridge. i need a fridge!!" (something like that more or less) but, hey what did i know? i actually don´t need a fridge. the onle thing that i can say that actually does need refridgeration is meat. note to self: hot dogs will not last more that 2 days without refridgeration (believe me i tried and it didn´t smell too great, the yellowish green tint wasn´t appetizing either).

then, i start to thinkin´"i don´t want to be closed minded."evertime someone says "I need blah blah" i didn´t want to feel like "what do they know about need. do they realize how good they have it?" so i get to looking up more definitions of this need. and i happened upon one that gives those of us with a broader view on what the word really means some slack:

Need - 2 a : a lack of something requisite, desirable, or useful b : a physiological or psychological requirement for the well-being of an organism

a fridge is useful, it could keep my hot dogs from turning green for atleast a few days. and.... if psychologically i felt that i was going to keel over from salmonela poisoning evertime i ate my mayo that has been fridgeless for three months...i guess buying a fridge wouldn´t be such a bad idea. well, it´s about lunch time and... and my three month mayo is a callin´my name.

Buen Provecho!!!!

another day at the market

yesturday i was on my way to El Portillo....the bus terminal is directly situated in front of a market. this market sells a variety of goods, cookies, sweets (LOTS AND LOTS of sweets), fruits vegetables, toys (bought two little toys filled with candy to give away as prizes for a game the kids and i were going to play on the subject of self esteem) and there she was...out cold on the concrete right in front of the small plastic froggie and bear toys and peanuts. money was strown about. her skirt above her knees exposing her torn knee high stockings. her eyes closed. both arms crossed in front of her. one elbow still holding on to her straw purse. everyone standing around chatting. through the mur mur of the crowd i was unable to overhear what had just taken place. so, i asked the kind lady that just placed my two little toy prizes in my green and white striped plastic bag, "que paso?" The Chele (paler fair skinned honduran) just hit her!!!

everyone was standing around. well, my first instinct was not that some man just hit her. i thought surely she had just suffered a heart attack or heat stroke. that wasn´t toooo far fetched. it was, after all, really hot and she was an older woman. The Chele was propped up against a Mi Leche truck with a menacing grin.. looking on at his wife, girlfriend, sister??? who knows? i didn´t want to partake in the whole showcase of this incident, but i was stunned. i couldn´t believe it. the longer i stood there, the more stunned i was at the fact that no one did anything. clearly there were witnesses. her eyelids started to open yet her eyes were not there. they were literally rolled back in her head. only the whites of her eyes were showing. a lady to my right began to pick up her money that had been laying on the sticky mango juice covered floor. the lady that had placed the toys in my bag began to say in a harsh voice, "what are you doing? you better put that back on the floor before someone accuses you of stealing." the lady continued to pick up the money.

i have mentioned before the state of machoism in this society. the increase of child and wife abuse. cases of hiv growing (not with males but unknowing housewives), young girls telling me that "if i ask the guy to use a condom he will call me a whore," men asking woman out on dates and when asked "are you married?"the response is "yeah but it doesn´t matter," boys in the household getting treated like kings while the girls run around doing errands and household duties, bossed around by brother. whether the forementioned has anything to do with machoism could be argued, but no police were called, no one helped until finally the lady that picked up the money grabbed the older woman´s arm. their faces were shockless expressionless. she came to, startled, ready to fight. the market lady put her hand on her head. calmed her. said kind words. the older woman laid her head back down. closed her eyes. i walked away.

i wonder how the woman is today. did she finally say to herself "i´m leaving this guy!" or is she still forever tied down by her womanly duties of taking care of the kids, cooking the meals, washing the clothes, staying at home day in and day out because she is afraid of being alone, unable to take care of her 8 children with her $2 a day salary. rather suffer the every now and then hits and jabs for an "easier" life with the man she loved and now no longer loves yet needs...his manliness, his occasional drunken embrace that makes her forget the blackeyes and fractured ribs. it may all be worth it in the end for her or may very well not be, but one can never judge.

BEWARE!!!

so we have all heard of guard dogs, right? but what about guard ducks? yeah....guard ducks!!

back in training, a fellow volunteer was attacked by ducks and suffered an injury to her leg. she was unable to walk (only with the assistance of crutches) for nearly a month. i was not a witness to the attack so, i am unable to recount the story exactly. but she was walking along the street to come to spanish class and ducks began to walk toward her. she tried to shooo them away and they became infuriated and attacked her. she was so stunned by the attack, she took steps backward to escape and fell towards the ground in a manner that damaged her leg for a month. we were told this story and it seemed quite funny. "What???? you were attacked by ducks??? ha ha ha!!!"

BUT.............

listen up folks!!! they are really out there. they really are. you must take heed. i have been living here in santa rosa de copan for nearly 3 months and i have been a witness to not one, not two, but three places being protected by ducks!!!! the first two instances were sights to see, surely. ducks in the front patio. laying near the gate. quacking at passers by...protecting there nest, but this morning i was walking along this street. a street that i walk along very often. but this balmy morning ( on my way to exercise of these yuuuummmmy corn tortillas that have accumulated around my tummy and face) i see this car lot to my left. a car lot/junkyard that has been there since i have been here, with four GIGANTIC ducks full of grease. they are not pets my friends. you would think they would buy a pitbull or something, but after doing some thorough investigation (i asked four hondurans) i have found out that ducks are actually quite aggresive and protective AND people actually buy ducks and use them to guard their homes and businesses etc. AND the owners of these attack ducks inject their unknowing duckies with steroids!!! mmm hmmm!!! who woulda thought. just when you thoughts the streets were safe....................