Paso Viejo

Greetings! As you can see, I'm really, really, really trying to do the whole blog thing more often. Last week I went to Paso Viejo, and aldea in the mountains surrounding Quimistan, about an hour's walk from the Guatemalan border. It was a two-day visit, and we discussed family planning, women's health, and a sundry of other things as well. The second day I was there, we were with just a group of men. We discussed family planning and did an activity that visually displays what happens when someone doesn't do any family planning and then doesn't have the resources to take care of all of their children. Honestly, it is an activity that is usually done with teenagers, but I thought I'd try it out. I think it went well - we received a lot of good feedback. Below are some photos from the two days:
And some of the views from Buenos Aires, a community halfway between Quimistan and Paso Viejo:
We also did a condom demonstration with the Paso Viejo hombres, which actually went pretty well. I was a little nervous, being that I was with men 18-60 in a little campo town, and that most of them get super embarassed by stuff like that. However, they asked lots of questions and all faithfully put their condoms on their bananas. And speaking of bananas, if you've ever wondered what happens to all the bananas we use for condom demonstrations, please see below:

Also, as we were cooking our fantastic condom bananas, the electricity went out, hence the fashionable (can't live without it) headlamp.
Top with some mayo-ketchup and salt, and you have a great Honduran meal.

Yay for San Pedro!

I'm currently in San Pedro, came in to town today to buy some gringa groceries (i.e. soy to make soy burgers, bagels, cream cheese) and pirated movies (Atonement, the new Batman, and Kite Runner for 5 bucks!) And am now comfortably seated in Espresso Americano, sipping some coffee and enjoying the very fast, very free internet.

On the bus to San Pedro today, I met an orthodontist that works in a clinic in the mountains of Quimistan. He and I were discussing the absolute disparity between rich and poor in Honduras. While I am incredibly lucky to live in a country that is developed enough that I have a cell phone, the internet, and if I really wanted, cable tv, that country only exists for a very small population here. The others, the campesinos, live without basic medical care, clean water, or electricity. This is something I have been struggling with lately, for many reasons. I have been asked to give some talks next week in Paso Viejo, an aldea on the border between Honduras and Guatemala (my municipality borders Guate) on personal hygiene and reproductive health/family planning. While I am happy to give these talks and do truly believe that everyone should be educated about birth control, condom use, the advantages of family planning, proper hygiene, etc., it is at times difficult for me to really believe that this information will change their quality of life. I am there to stress the use of family planning methods such as birth control pills, but our health center has been out of them for at least a month. I am supposed to encourage toothbrushing and clean drinking water, but many of the people I will be speaking with don't have the money to buy either. I guess I wonder if knowledge really is power, when the resources needed to put such knowledge into practice are so scarce. However, I will continue to soldier on, and hope it makes a difference for some.

On another note, I thought everyone might like a lesson on how to make tortillas (the easy way) and so am posting a how to guide:
You can start by A) growing, drying, and grinding your own corn, or you can go to your local super and pick up a bag of corn flour - you can see which one I have opted to go with here.
Add water,
Form the masa into little balls of dough,
and use your trusty tortilla make to mash them into tortillas. During the fateful tripped that included walking to Tegus, we spent an evening with a family that one of the other volunteers knew. I struck up a conversation with the abuelita (grandma) and told her that my tortilla making skills were incredibly lacking, and the I had been smashing the masa between two plates because I couldn't make them by hand. Before we left for the night, she gave me this tortilla maker to help me be a better Honduran cook. To be honest, I got a bit teary-eyed. And every time I use it (which is often) I think of her.
After masa has been smashed into a tortilla shape, transfer to a comal (piece of metal on stove) or in my case, a skillet, and cook. And the finished product:As you can see, I still need to work on my tortilla making a bit more, but I'd say I'm well on my way to becoming a fantastic Honduran cook.

Have a great weekend!

Bits and Pieces

So much has happened since my last blog entry, I'm not quite sure where to start. So here are some of the more exciting moments of the last few weeks:

The Day We Walked to Tegus

At the beginning of September, Kristina (another volunteer) and I headed to Tegus to do an HIV workshop with the new trainees. Kristina took the bus from Santa Rosa, and I met her in San Pedro. From there, it was a smooth and tranquil 5 hour trip to Tegus. Or at least thats what was supposed to happen. However, about 4 hours into our journey, our bus came to an abrupt halt. This happens occasionally here in beautiful Honduras, as the roads seem to have been constructed out of sidewalk chalk and kindergarten paste. Kristina and I chatted for about an hour, then realized we still hadn't moved. Not an inch. We were going to be late to meet the other facilitators in Tegus, so we decided to call Juan Carlos (our trusty security officer) to see what the deal was and if he knew when we would be moving again. Unfortunately for us, two semis had collided further up the mountain we were on, and there was major traffic backed up on both sides. We had two choices: we could wait for who knows how long to get someone to move the semis out of the way, or we could give our Chacos some much needed pavement pounding and walk (ding ding ding!). We grabbed our bags, got off the bus, and started up the mountain. The scene was very R.E.M Everybody-Hurts-style – people getting out of the buses, walking between the cars, etc. We walked for awhile up the mountain, and were finally able to get a jalon with a couple of guys in the back of their pickup. We went a few miles, then even the shoulder that we had been riding on was jammed, so we got out and started walking again. We walked to the accident, which was pretty crazy – one of the semi cabs had at some point been engulfed in flames, and all that was left was the cage. I'm hoping there was no one stuck in it. After we got to the other side of the accident, we found some trusty street vendors who were selling assorted yummies to the crowd, and mauwed down on some quesadillas (here, quesadillas are little bread things filled with spicy cinnamon filling.) and took a rest. While Kristina decided to wander around the cemetary we had stopped at, I tried to get us another jalon. Of course, the first guys I flagged down were in the scariest rape van ever – white van, no windows, two men in front. Then they opened the side door, and there's just one giant man sitting in back, beckoning us to come in. I politely turned them down, and am thus here today to relate the whole story. We eventually found another pick-up to ride in, and took it to the edge of Tegus, where eventually a PC staff member picked us up. We got to our final destination a little over 12 hours after we started traveling. To be honest, I felt like a real Peace Corps volunteer tromping up the mountain, which is something I don't always feel like here. I also have photographic evidence of these events, but alas, they are currently in Kristina's camera, so will have to be posted some other time.

10 Thoughts About Honduras:

1. 
   

   Always, always charge your phone. The day you let the battery run down is the day the power goes out and stays out for the next 2 days.



2. 
   

   If you bat your eyes a little and say “regalame” (giv

   e me) people will actually give you stuff that they would normally make you pay for. This has so far worked for moto taxi rides, ice cream, and assorted produce.



3. 
   

   Always, always look inside your pila before getting water out, or you may end up with a rabid lizard bite. See said lizard below:



4. 
   

   Ironically, my town (and thus my house) has no running water during the rainiest part of the rainy season.



5. 
   

   Ants can indeed build colonies underneath book shelves. See photos from the great ant holocaust 2008. Those tiny black flecks are the ants that invaded my house, after they were doused with a healthy dose of Raid.

1. 
   

   Some of the best Honduran food can be bought on the buses to the West. What was once suspect and feared for its possible diarrhea-inducing properties are now delicacies to be enjoyed while bumping along on your local chicken bus.



2. 
   

   The nurses in my site love margaritas and pina coladas.

   This was a fantastic revelation, and one I will be making the most of. A cocktails and ticucco (honduran food) making party is in the works.



3. 
   

   Being a girl and strolling around town with a machete is a great way to meet new friends.



4. 
   

   It is possible to read a 900+ page book in 3 days.



5. 
   

   Somewhere, there is an amazing Bon Jovi cover band who can sing Bed of Roses in Spanish. I heard them today from the neighbor's woodshop while washing my clothes. My neighbors also enjoy playing Bryan Adams, Mariah Carey, a little Total Eclipse of the Heart, and the occasional disco tune. Classic.

Ode to Mantequilla

I would like to take a moment to tell you a little about one of my favorite foods/condiments in Honduras: Mantequilla. Though the actual translation for mantequilla in English is butter, the mantequilla here is more like some creamy goodness that can only

be described as the most amazing thing to ever come out of a cow. PCVs are divided into two camps: those who absolutely hate the Mantequilla and think it is evil incarnate, and those who recognize its smooth satiny texture as a little piece of perfection in an imperfect Honduran world. You can put it on beans, on tortillas, on fried plantains, and as I have recently learned, in spaghetti sauce. If I could find a large enough pila and a willing dairy farmer, I would bathe in mantequilla. And it would be amazing.

My favorite recent quote:

“Lay off the teat, Leala!” One volunteer to another volunteer (Leala) after learning that she had been drinking unpasteurized milk straight from the udder. That stuff will kill ya.

My New House

So I am now moved in to my new house, and couldn't be happier. I miss my host family, but I love living alone and doing whatever I want, whenever I want. Below are some photos from around the casa:

Kristina in my state of the art kitchen.

Thats its for now, another blog with actual work updates will be posted soon, es una promesa!