Week 4

My fourth week here in El P began with a nine and a half hour blackout which lasted all of Sunday. None of us had made any plans for the day, so we all sat around and read, played games, listened to music, and talked. Without power, we had no water pressure, no wifi, and no fans. Luckily, the oven and stove run on propane so we could still make food -- though we had to rush each time we opened the refrigerator so as not to let out too much of the cold air. We had been warned about the power outage the day before (I later learned that this kind of thing happens quite often here), and had been able to mentally prepare, but that didn't make our day all that much easier.

The whole nine and a half hour long blackout experience was quite interesting for me and caused me to do a lot of reflecting. I've done more than my fair share of camping and surviving with almost nothing in the middle of the woods, so I was confused as to why something so simple as having the power out would be as difficult as it was. What I figured out is that it's all about expectations. At home, I'm used to having AC when it's hot, and to not having to worry about the power going out for long periods of time. When I'm in the woods, even just thinking about having AC or wifi would be ridiculous. I'm completely cut off from everything and that makes my life easier. Never before have I had to live somewhere in the middle. In El P, I expect to have wifi and am annoyed when it goes out more than seven times per day. Although I don't have AC, I look forward to sitting down right next to a fan and cooling off a bit. When the power goes out and I don't have access to these things, or to cold water, I'm even more affected than I am when I have no access to them. What I'm learning is that, for me, it's harder to have something half of the time and not have it the other half, than to not have it at all.

One highlight of my week was doing Community Outreach on Tuesday morning. After reading my last blog post, Eddy, the manager, approached me to say that PEP2 was actually not the poorest location and that there are many poor families in all of our locations. She said that she thought it would be a good idea, if I was interested, for me to walk through the neighborhood by PEP3. That is exactly what I did and, boy, was it eye-opening.

Before coming to HCA, I read a blog post written by a previous volunteer who had made it seem as though everyone here lived in shacks made out of sticks and tin. Driving through El P on the first day, I was surprised by how nice the houses on the main drag looked. The road was paved and the houses were relatively large and well kept. Walking through the area around PEP3, I came to understand what exactly this volunteer had been talking about. While there were some large, two story houses with nice cars parked in the driveways, there were also many houses that were made of sticks and tin. Realizing that some of my students lived in these houses was mind-boggling and hit me hard.

Growing up in an upper-middle class neighborhood and attending a very progressive independent school, I've spent a good deal of time learning, thinking, and conversing about people who have less than I do. Before coming here, I thought I knew exactly what that meant and I thought I understood what life must be like for these people. However, it wasn't until I walked by these houses and saw them for myself, that I realized how little I actually understood.

On a somewhat related note, while talking with my study buddy a few days ago, I learned that he is paying his way through university completely by himself with no help from his parents. I found this fascinating because I don't know of anyone back home who has to pay for college on their own. Some of my friends are working at their schools in order to pay the college back for their scholarships, but none of them are paying for their entire education out of their own pockets. The other Honduran college students I've talked to have said the same thing. After further questioning, I learned that my study buddy's younger sister would have help from her parents to pay for college. Of course, this is only one family and one situation, but I found it quite interesting that the expectations for males and females would be so different. I'm curious as to why.

I've been getting a lot of questions from readers of my blog about the purpose of HCA and how the school system functions here, so I'd like to clear some things up. As far as I understand it, in Honduras, elementary aged children can either go to school in the morning or in the afternoon. Every day, we have two sessions in each location. The morning session runs from 9am to 10:30am and is attended by kids who go to school in the afternoons. The afternoon session runs from 1:30pm to 3:30pm and is for the kids who go to school in the morning.

As an organization, of course we want our children to learn. We teach them English, Spanish literacy, and how to use computers and kindles, but those are mostly secondary goals. What we really want, is for the kids to have a safe space where their opinions can be heard and where they can feel important. The classes at school, even in smaller towns like El P, can have 40 or 50 kids and one teacher. My understanding is that the teachers write information on the board and the kids copy it down and are then tested on what they copied down. If the kids are slower, can't read, or have any kind of learning disorder, they don't get the extra attention or help that they need. That's what HCA is here for -- to let these kids be kids and to support them no matter what.


This week, almost half of the volunteers are leaving. I'm quite sad about this, especially because four of them live in our house and once they're gone it will feel very empty. We are getting a few new volunteers this coming week, but I don't think anyone can fill the gap that the others will leave.

During my first two weeks here, there was a lot of turnover. Over the past two weeks, though, we've only had one new person come, so things have been pretty consistent and I've really liked that. I feel as though I've gotten into a rhythm and with everyone leaving, that rhythm will be disrupted. Now that everyone is leaving, I'll have to find a new rhythm.

Today, September 29th is my 19th birthday. It's the first time I've had a birthday away from home, but it's been amazing despite that. Festivities began when I kind of accidentally stayed up until midnight on the 28th. As I lay in bed, ready to go to sleep, my two roommates (Yamit and Regi) came in with a tray of brownies and a lit candle. Both of them gave me huge hugs and then we sat on the floor of our room and ate brownies. In class, many of the kids came up and wished me a happy birthday which was adorable and touching. Yamit has also been doing all of my dishes and chores today so that I can relax and fully enjoy myself.

All of the volunteers went out to dinner at the family-run restaurant across the street. We had birthday hats, a banner, and even a pinata filled with candy. After dinner, we watched a video that Yamit had made for me. She'd gotten all of the important people in my life to send her short videos wishing me happy birthday. It was so touching and it truly made my day. What a great end to a great week and an amazing start to what I know will be an amazing year!

Word of the week:
Maje, tomate la suave: the equivalent of this phrase in English is "dude, chill out." One of my adult students taught this phrase to me and then said that if I used it, I would sound like a true Honduran.

Yamit Quote of the Week:
"I'm in the fridge"