A monkey I saw on a recent trip to the north coast.
my new home!
“I look to the sea. Reflectoins in the waves spike my memory—some happy some sad. I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had. We lived happily forever, so the story goes, but somehow we missed out on the pot of gold, but we'll try best that we can to carry on.”
After months of living in a country where I “sailed away on an open course full of urgency,” I've found myself during quiet nights in my house reflecting on the life I've left behind. Perhaps because I read Garrison Keilor's Lake Wobegon Days, or perhaps it was seeing my sister's album of Christmas pictures on Facebook, but the past few weeks I've lived full of reminiscing. And unlike the song's lyrics, I don't think I ever missed out on any pot of gold.
When I was five, or so, I prayed to God, tested God, to design a rainbow with it's end in my backyard, so that I could find the pot of gold. I remember sometime later when disappointingly, I remembered my prayer and realized it hadn't been answered. But over the years as I have relived those wonderful years of my childhood, I think I've realized where God hid my treasure.
And so, living here in Honduras, thousands of miles and hundreds of degrees (Fahrenheit) from where I grew up, I catch myself (while watching kids poke at frogs or prove their “adulthood” by eating raddish greens) remembering yellow minnow buckets full of critters, puckered cheeks full of rhubarb, and nan king cherries.
Boyhood is somewhat different here. It's more like what I imagine boyhood was like for my dad. The 3 and 4-year-olds get up at 5AM to go milk the cows with their dads because “they're men.” Six to 12-year-olds despise 5AM. And by 16, they're helping to build the neighbor's house, planting their own plots of land. Most familys here don't have outhouses, nor snow to walk through to get to the outhouses, but like my dad's family, the kids here will someday remember when they got their first TV, computer, lights, etc...
Children here are more respectful than kids in the U.S. because they have to salute their elders--especially Godfathers and grandfathers whom they salute with both palms placed together in a praying position. The elders usually bend down to clasp both of their own hands around the child's, and in so doing, give their blessing. However, I may have caught the tail end of that tradition, as several families no longer participate.
And the poor little girls in this machismo culture, they practically think it's funny when I say hi to them, or make eye contact, or pay any attention to them. They're just girls. But that too is changing, and hopefully the women's groups that seem to be forming here will help to speed their women's liberation movement. I never thought I'd care about “women's lib,” it used to bug me how adamant people were about such stuff, but after a step back in time, I've realized how suppressing life can be for a female when they are only expected to cook tortillas. And not that I'd even look down on having separate rolls (working man/domestic wife) except that I've realized that, at least here, all the intelligence rests in the heads of women (for guys it's not cool to do well in school, so they don't, learn). As such, it's as frustrating as can be to go to meetings without secretaries who can write or treasurers who can keep the books; meanwhile there are women in this community who've went to high school for accounting, women here who can write, legibly!
But adulthood will be different for this crop of kids who race bike inner-tubes down the road with forked twigs, the kids who come to church with burns on their faces from New Years' Eve fireworks, and the kids who know how to “gritar” (shout out or howl) as if to prove they were still very much alive. Their kids will have TV, and likely Facebook.
Some things I wish would never come here. At least personally, I think I'd trade electricity for the views of the night sky you get here. (Only I wish my laptop had a 30-hour battery instead of 6.) And although I don't mind candles, I sure hope I am not ruining my vision squinting so often in the near darkness! TV will really change people here too. They're probably not going to listen to Radio America much more after TV arrives. And the kids will probably start listening to Regaton instead of Ranchero.
But perhaps also they'll learn to speak more grammatically correctly, and perhaps they'll learn where Canada or Europe is. Perhaps they'll see that not all Americans are white! Some of the perceptions from so close to the U.S, living where many men have worked for a few years in the U.S., are so far off. I guess that's why one goal of the Peace Corps is to encourage cultural exchange. I guess maybe it's even sadder how we in the U.S. have just as many misconceptions of a country so nearby, and we have Google!
The coffee is quite ripe for the picking here and now. The prices are good these days, up to 6500 Lempiras for a large carga (over $1.50/lb), and everyone seems to be sporting new jeans and button-up American Eagle shirts. All the kids are constantly eating 'churros' or small 10 cent bags of chips sold out of 'truchas' (the front windows of someone's house who sells snacks and laundry soap). It's easy for me to get rides down the mountain, because they can only carry 8-10 bags of coffee in the backs of their toyota or nissan trucks, and that leaves room for a couple people.
Christmas was fun here. I sat outside on a friend's patio and stared at a campfire while eating macatamales (a combination of white corn meal, beans, peppers, onions, and pork rolled up in a corn husk or banana leaf and boiled) and drinking Tecate. We walked to the church where “they celebrate until at least midnight,” but they were already leaving at 9:20. Christmas day we rested, spending much time in hammocks, reading, and picking radishes. I wasn't too homesick, because it felt like the beginning of August. New Year's was less fun because nobody did anything. I did enjoy the rest, but for the first time in years I couldn't keep awake till midnight. Of course, my real holiday comes on the 15th when my parents arrive to visit.
I hope (especially you who've read this far!) had a marvellous Christmas filled with family traditions and food, oh the foods of Christmas! I hope you got kissed at midnight on New Years and are still holding to your list of resolutions. But mostly, I hope you didn't take for granted those immaculate lists of top stories, top photos and top people of the decade. I got a short list, in Spanish of course, from a newspaper here, and I suddenly missed MSN, New York Times and NPR.
