ringing in 2007 with a bang

Ohh, the things I missed most about life in Honduras...all of the bug bites, stomach problems, hand washing your clothes, and showering in cold water. On the up side, we had crystal clear drinking water until just a couple of days ago. Now it's beginning to have that brown tinge to it. Thank God for Aguazul bottled water.

On New Year's Eve, I was reminded of the horrible lack of sense of safety here in Honduras. There is a tradition of stuffing an old pair of clothes with newspaper and fireworks to light on fire at midnight, to leave the past year behind, and to welcome in the new. 12:00 comes around, and everybody is encouraged to crowd around this doll, to watch it go up in flames. So, there are children of all ages huddling around this thing, I mean, down to the smallest children. The second it is lit, it explodes into flames, and people start running from it. It looked and sounded like people were running away from some sort of invasion. I'm surprised nobody ended up with severe burns, or broken bones from being trampled over. Ha, the lack of safety never ceases to amaze me. With that being said, New Years was a blast. The kids all had a great time at the dance, and the volunteers continued our New Years festivities after the children were put to bed at 3am.

This week I began my work in the clinics. I met with the coordinator, and we discussed our plan in a nutshell, as to what we want to do this year. At this point in time, I will be co-coordinator of the clinics, which gives me hope to help a lot of good things happen. We have high hopes, so we'll see how far we will actually be able to carry them through. The clinic staff has a lot of potential, but due to unfortunate problems with communication and personality conflicts, the functioning ability of the clinic has taken a turn for the worst. My exact position for this year is still up in the air, as the coordinator is wanting a break from her position. There is another Honduran candidate being considered, but it is also a possibility I would be put into that position. We were supposed to find out this week what the plan is, but as all things go here in Honduras, that date has been postponed.

A couple stories to stimulate your minds...

A couple nights ago, we had chicken part soup for the second time since I arrived. This soup includes chicken feet, necks, and all the other deliciously nutritious chicken parts we would never even imagine eating. One of the kids in Casa Suyapa (where kids through 8 years old live), said to me as he was gnawing on chicken toes, "oh poor volunteers. you are all dying of hunger tonight". It is pretty well known on the ranch that volunteers do not take part in this meal, so the kids enjoy giving us a hard time about it. I just like to think of it as leaving more food for the kids to eat, because they actually enjoy it.

Another night, as we were preparing for dinner, I was sitting on the ground with one of my girls laying across my lap, staring up at the stars. She looked up at me and said, "I don't have any parents." This beautiful girl is only 7 years old. So, I asked her where her parents are, and she told me there were in heaven. Her mother passed away from cancer, and her father passed away from some unknown cause. She pointed to two stars up in the sky, and said "look, they are right there watching over me, and praying for me".

As I was running around playing with the kids the other day, one of them stopped me just to talk. He was asking me what country I was from, and all that other small talk that the kids love so much. He then started asking me if there were bad people that lived there, and if people do bad things to each other. He wanted to know if there were gangs like there are here, and wanted to know if people kill each other where I come from. The kids on the Ranch here come from so many backgrounds. Some from abusive families, others have seen their parents killed right in front of them. Violence has become a reality, a norm to them. Hearing a small child ask me questions like that just brought back their stories, and opened my eyes to their reality again.