A Look Back at Training in Santa Cruz de Yojoa

five pet roosters. count them. . .1.2.3.4.5. cocckaddoodoling at all hours of the night. 11.00 1.00 3.00 & 5.00. i wake at 5.30 to a cold bucket bath. sounds strange but is actualy refreshing in the hot humid climate. in the mornings we start with language classes. the classes are held in small concrete rooms with tin roofs. tuna cans if you will. but fun nevertheless. we walk back home for lunch we pass chickens eating watermelon. pigs being chased by dogs. dogs with nipples hanging down to the ground from all the baby rearing and sweet little old ladies selling super ripe sweet delectible oranges for only one lempira (equivalent to 4 cents) on the streets, makes me detest the way the prices are soooo jacked up back at home.

this month has been super heavy. we were in a city called santa cruz de yojao. centered among many smaller pueblos, or "aldeas." we go to small towns and work with midwives, go to schools and talk about aids ( hard to do in a country so deep into religion and the belief that using a condom is a sin in itself and hinders man´s abuility to procreate.) but we do it. "confianza" as they call it here or "trust" is the most important thing about being a volunteer. people have to "trust" you. what this means is that you do everything you can - go to church with them, laugh with them (even if you don´t understand them) hang out withem and make small talk, in the name of prevention of HIV and AIDS. things to us seem simple. use a condom, or abstinence, but this is hard to convey in a "machista" society. the woman has no rights. she never can say "no," or she can say "no," but doesn´t mean her voice will be heard.

this has been a wonderful and eyeopening experience. started to do an activity with a group of midwives where they had to draw a picture that represented themeselves, a smiley face a heart. . . something simple. "simple" i thought, the literacy rate here is low an i knew that. some women were even scared to pick up a crayon. it blew my mind. the activity was tailored, i thought, for the person that couldn´t read and write, yet never realizing that the concept of picking up a writing utencil has never been an option and that the thought of it would be frightening to some. wow.

almost done with training. i have shy of three more weeks left in siquatepeque.. i´ll be living in a city called santa rosa de copan, a few hours away from the guatemalen border. i am excited and a tad bit scared. ready yet at the same time so unprepared for a world soo big. . .all the poverty sickness and lost hope.. . can it get better.. . yes, it can. "un poco a poco" as they say. things take time and time is on my side.