hot dog factory

23 September 2008
Dudes I am actually writing this blog in an internet café, so im gonna make it short and sweet. Basically, everything I said in the previous post (which is new to you guys, so read it) is still true, and in three days I will swear in as an official Peace Corps volunteer! Then I´ll go to my new home in Alubaren and start saving the babies.
Love,
Hayley

16 September 2008
Hey, chochachos! Heavens, it’s been a while. You guys had better get used to that, the nearest Internet source to my site is about two hours away. But I will have a P.O. box in town, so I guess it’s time to do it old-school style. I recently got some letters from you guys, it was the most awesome thing in the world…like a jillion baby pandas being born at once.

A whole lot has happened since I last blogged…I departed from my Talanga family, but not before Dona Dulce and I planted a sapling sand-dollar eucalyptus tree together in the near-darkness, using a pole and a spatula. A lady was selling plants out of a truck on the way home from school that day, and I decided it was the perfect parting gift. I spent my last night hanging out with my host sister at the Cocodrilo, just talking with her and my host-brother Carlos (he’s a dude who lives in Tegus usually). It was really chill and really awesome. The next morning, I got up at 6:00am, ate my last delicious greasy restaurant breakfast, hugged and kissed the fam goodbye, and hopped on a bus for Santa Rita. I arrived in the morning while the girls were at school, then left again to go to classes…when I finally arrived again that evening, the girls saw me coming from the top of the hill and screamed “HAAAAYLEEEEEY!!!” like their vocal chords were going to explode. Seriously, I was worried. It was so great to be back in the house, hanging out in the little living room with Suyapa, Javier, little baby Javier (who can now roll over, sit up, crawl, and edge around the room), and Melani and Madeline. I really forgot how much I love this family here…I am so, so lucky I got TWO families who I love and who love me.

I was only there for a night, though, and left the next morning for a four day visit to my site…ALUBAREN!! I was right, as was every single other gringo in Youth Development...guess they gave us pretty good hints. Anyway, one of my counterparts (who is also my host grandmother) showed up the day before in Valle de Angeles to escort me down south. She’s a solid little old lady, very old fashioned and no-nonsense, but I like her a lot. She wears a lot of matching pantsuits, but instead of pants, it’s a long skirt…skirtsuits? Her name is Paola, and she’s the principal of the elementary school I will be working with. We hauled one of my huge suitcases on the top of one of old American school buses that Honduras uses for public transit (complete with “Blue Bird Transit” signs and stickers inside that say “Values matter in South Carolina!”), and departed from Tegucigalpa for Alubaren. About two hours later, we departed from the highway and began ascending a mostly dirt mountain road, which we climbed and wove around for almost an hour and a half. My jaw was basically open the entire time…it was so beautiful. The mountains were just thick with brilliant green jungle plants, trees with sled-sized leaves and vines hanging from mossy mango trees. We drove through lots of small villages (aldeas), crossed several rivers (on bridges), and finally arrived in the center of Alubaren. There are a little over 1,000 people in the center (casco urbano), and it has the vibe of a very small, isolated, rural town…which it is. There is a pretty park with old gnarled trees in the middle, with a huge white Catholic church next to it. The streets are dusty dirt with stray dogs trotting around and little shoeless kids running up and down, kicking plastic bottles or small balls, sucking on bags of frozen juice, and even doing that thing that kids in the 1800s did that involved smacking a rolling wheel along with a stick. It’s so stinking hot here, I though I would die…I’m basically bathed in sweat at all times, including the middle of the night. All the ladies walk around with umbrellas to protect them from the harsh rays, so I immediately bought a pretty green one and now intend on walking out of here in two years without skin cancer. There are a handful of pulperias (corner store, ranging from a shack with a workbench to a storefront with refrigerators and microwaves…they sell basic food supplies, soap, candy, diapers, whatever), as well as two comedors, which sell meals (fried chicken, baleadas, etc). There is the local government building, called the alcaldia, a health clinic, a post office, and several NGOs, including one that I’ll be working with, called Christian Children’s Fund—it’s a U.S. organization, and it’s great—they basically just sent money and this office (with all Honduran staff) gets to spend it on projects that help develop the community, such as youth groups, community gardens, and preschools, all of which I will be working on. It’s nice because a lot of times NGOs come in, with foreign leadership, do the projects they want to, and then leave—and two years later the projects have all disintegrated because there was no local ownership or personal investment. When the projects, like those of Fondo Cristiano para Niños, are developed, planned, and executed by community members, they actually stick around and continue to improve (usually). Peace Corps volunteers base their community development work around the same principle, and we’re supposed to do only do projects that are sustainable and include local leadership and involvement.

Anyway, I LOVE Alubaren. When you stand in the little streets and look around, all you see in the horizon is great big green mountains and blue skies (evil, hot blue skies). There are lots of little creeks and rivers surrounding the town, which I got to see more of when my new host mom and aunt took me to a funeral. We had to walk about an hour in the heat up a nearby mountain, and it was the greenest, most beautiful thing I’ve seen in Honduras. Just dense jungle forest, full of mango and banana trees, occasionally opening up to large meadows. We were not able to benefit from the canopy, though, because we were hiking up the dirt road, which is basically an oven. The umbrella protects my skin, but it also captures the heat in a little dome of hell right around my face…which is, I suppose, why the women also walk around with little towels draped across their shoulders, to mop sweat off their faces. Despite the heat, though, the hike was gorgeous. It’s very depressing through, because the more rural you get in this country, the more people seem to disregard the concept of a garbage can. Adults and children alike will unwrap whatever they’re about to eat or drink and just toss the garbage on the ground. When we arrived at the home of the man who’d died, we sat on little wooden benches in front of a dirt-floor house high atop the mountain (it was actually cooler up there) under the shade of gorgeous almendra trees, with thick vines hanging all over the place and ferns covering the ground. After I finished my plate of rice and tortillas I asked where the garbage can was, and they just squinted at me and pointed (with their lips, as is Honduran custom) to a little gully nearby. I peeked over and it was filled with plastic bottles, plates, as well as lots of food waste and some Styrofoam. It sucks because this is the most beautiful, undeveloped land in the area and they just chuck garbage all over the place. I know there isn’t a formal garbage collection method up in the mountains (it would have be on donkey if it existed), but they could at least consolidate and bury it instead of spreading it all over the place, including in their only nearby watershed…the school wants me to do environmental ed, though, so I wonder if we can change any of that…the rest of the “funeral” was pretty awkward, because it was just like 20 people sitting outside, eating and not talking. I asked one of the kids to show me the horses on the hill behind to house, and soon I had about 10 little escorts. They were extremely quiet and mainly just watched me with big eyes…I don’t think they’d seen a gringo before, actually. We kind of stood around the horses for a bit in silence—I’d ask them something and they’d just avert their eyes and look at the ground. Finally, I took off my sandals and started to climb an enormous mango tree (mango trees are the best to climb, by the way), and the kids started to giggle. Soon they all followed me up and we spent the next hour sitting up in the canopy, chewing on mangos and talking. I was so relieved because I don’t think I’ve ever felt so awkward around Hondurans before…the silence was unbearable.

My third and final host family is pretty nice. It’s a mom named Sandra, who is a teacher at my elementary school, a dad named Walmar, who works for Fondo Cristiano, and a little three-year-old girl who is adorably cute but rather sinister in character…she’s the kid who pinches the sleeping baby just to make him cry. It’s not the same as my other two families, but I’m pretty comfortable with them and certainly won’t mind staying for my first two months. However, I wish my bedroom had a door, all it’s got is a curtain…and the bathroom doesn’t have either (yes, this is very awkward, and in my four days there I learned how to execute certain maneuvers with extreme speed). They seemed hurt when I mentioned I’d be looking for my own place in a couple months, but nearly all PC volunteers find their own place, and I think I’d want a little more privacy for my next two years. Also, when you guys come visit me, you’ll have a place to crash…and I promise to buy some fans so no one dies of heat exhaustion during the night.

I also met the kids who will be on my baseball team, Las Panteras, and I’m really excited about that. They’re all stellar kids who love to play (they told me they practice every single day for two hours), and informed me they’re the best kids in town because they will never ever drink or do drugs. Alubaren is actually a dry town, but booze is still illegally sold in some places. However, the amount of drunks in town is quite small, which is awesome. Anyway, my baseball kids (all boys and some girls between 8-12) are totally rad. However, on the scale of Knowledge Regarding Baseball, I fall between “Repressed Childhood Memories” and “Understands Kickball,” so if anyone has any pointers or books or anything on how to teach kids baseball, let me know/give me them. Also, if anyone wants to draw parallels between my new sports endeavor and “Kristy’s Krushers,” please be aware I am open to such ideas.

While I’m kind of stressed about all the work that’s ahead of me, as well as the concept of being my own boss, I’m just overwhelmed with how happy I will be in Alubaren. Sitting on the porch of a neighbor, chatting with whoever wanders by and sipping sweet coffee…it’s just so tranquilo. Seriously, give me a hammock and some children that need a friend, and I feel like I could live here forever…

After celebrating Children’s Day for four days with piñatas and toys (Dia del Niño is basically a holiday we don’t have…think birthday for every single kid, all at once, and you’ve got the idea), I departed from Alubaren as the kids were ironing out the last details for the parades they were to take place the next day, September 15th. Every child in a public school in Honduras has basically been out of school for the past month, practicing marching, playing drums, twirling batons, shaking pompoms, carrying flags, and otherwise preparing for Honduras’s independence day. It’s an intense, countrywide sensation of patriotism as every single kid is forced to march for hours in the parades—no one here seems to think, “But isn’t four hours a day of rehearsal with almost no schooling for an entire month rather extreme??”. I was back in Santa Rita in time to see the preparation, and Suyapa was up until 1:00am doing the hair of the girls’ in our neighborhood…and up at 4:00am doing the hair of her two little daughters. I got up at 6:00am, and we were out the door by 7:00am, along with the rest of the world. We arrived in Valle de Angeles and I was overwhelmed by the thousands of people, the majority of whom were teeny miniature cowboys, Indians, policemen, firemen, cheerleaders, baton-twirlers, and of course marching band members…it was a spectacle. Little Madeline was a cheerleader, by the way, and Melani was a baton twirler, complete with high-heel boots and tiny dress. It was an exhausting day, though, and we all slept like rocks that night.

By the way, I definitely got run over by a horse last night. I had taken the kids to the clearing the woods where we play soccer to play games in the dark again, and we were taking a rest in the grass. Two kids on horses came up and starting showing off, galloping up and down. I told them to go on, and that they couldn’t ride in that area because there were little children around. One kid, however, took off galloping anyway. I was seated cross-legged on the grass with Madeline the three-year-old in my lap, and I heard the horse coming up behind me. I turned around just in time to see the boy trying to pull his horse up short behind me—he was running it at me to scare me! The horse couldn’t stop in time, though, and I screamed and ducked down over Madeline, and the horse trampled right over me. It was miraculous that I wasn’t hurt—his hooves grazed my head a bit, but that was it!! The kids kept insisting the children on horseback were drunk, but they just seemed so young I can’t believe it. Either way, one of my more random Honduran events.

Oh my sweet heavens it is bedtimes folks. Buenas noches.
Paz,
Hayley

love fungus

look guys, pictures! here are ana and i, the MCs for cultural day. yes, that is my natural hair color, thank you for asking.
here i am with all my little friends from one of the village schools.
here is a shot of Talanga, where i´ve been living for the past month or so.
here are derek and i, in the middle of a hike through the hot n moist selva.
hooray for pictures!!

6 September 2008
Hey, chochachos! Today I sweated so much, I got diaper rash. What’s new with you guys? Not diaper rash? That’s a shame. It’s really taking me back to my childhood. I might go steal that cream that they always rub on baby John’s butt… maybe I’ll just relish in this trip down memory lane.

Anyway, it was mega-hot today. Now it’s raining, of course, since this is the wet season in Honduras, and it rains every dang day. I don’t mind the rain, since it usually cools things down, but it sucks because the electricity always goes out when it thunders. So far it’s been on without issue for about three hours, so I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that it’ll stay. Though it doesn’t suck too hard when it goes out, because then I get to walk around with a upside-down teacup with a candle stuck to it, and I like to pretend it’s the times of Horse and Wig, when teabags cost a penny and cholera was a serious concern for everyone.

This is my last Saturday here in Tang-Town, and that fills me with cholera (the metaphorical kind). I leave on Tuesday! I just really wish I didn’t have to leave my host family here…I love Dona Dulce so much, and my sister Dulce, too…and baby John…and Alexa…and Dubal…and all their crazy friends that are always around. Especially in the past couple weeks, I’ve felt just like a member of the family and I can feel my heart growing, like a fungus of love (love-fungi grow really well here, due to the heat and humidity). Today I was sitting on the couch in the restaurant with Dona Dulce, and she turned to me and said something like, “It’s amazing how the heart can grow to love someone so much in such a short period of time,” and squeezed my arm. Then we both sat there trying not to cry and she changed to subject to gringo gossip. Dubal, my dad, keeps walking around grinning and chuckling his high-pitched “hee hee!” which is cute coming from a man of his girth, and muttering, “They gave us the craziest gringa they had!” I don’t know why exactly he thinks I’m so crazy (I have the suspicion it has something to do with my dancing, which they now call “Hacer la mantequilla”), but he seems to delight in it. They showed up the Cultural Day the gringos hosted, which was basically a smorgasbord of Honduran and American food and a series of performances by us and local Hondurans, and just stared at me. Ana, another gringa, and I were the MCs of the event, and were decked out in traditional folkloric dresses, complete with fake black braids that hang down the left shoulder. As you can imagine I looked extremely ridiculous and I don’t think any of the Hondurans knew what to make of it. I looked GOOD. Anyway, each family had to bring a dish, and mine showed up with a chocolate cake that said “Bueno, Hayley, ya la tengo en mi corazon,” which means, “Well, Hayley, now I have you in my heart.” It was deliciously sentimental. They also had a wrapped present for me, which I thought was great. It was a coffee percolator! One of the awesome silvery ones that make like 5 cups of coffee. It’s awesome and it’s exactly what I needed. Anyway, the general mood around the house is sadness that I’m leaving, and a distinct attempt to enjoy every waking moment. Today (Saturday) Honduras played Canada in the rounds for the world cup in 2010, so I painted my arms blue and white and climbed into bed with Dona Dulce to watch the game. She gave me an (enormous) Honduras soccer jersey, and we laid there, sucking on sodas and watching what was a surprising and glorious triumph over Canada. Suck it, Canada!

Today I walked over to see the giant Ceiba tree we have in town, with Patrick, Gabe, and Dora. This tree is ENORMOUS, you’d need at least 10 people holding hands to wrap around its base. It’s got huge buttress roots, and enormous braches that extend out across the dusty square for about 50 feet. Little kids were kicking around a soccer ball barefoot, chickens peckin’ about, old ladies shuffling around with buckets of something balanced on their heads, old men sitting on their porches with their cowboy hats on, hells of dogs trotting around, the air all hot and heavy with the pending rain…it was such a typical Honduran scene that I admit I got a little emotional and my eyeballs almost started to sweat. But they have little two-by-fours wedged into the roots like benches, so Patrick and I perched on them and took several high school senior portrait-esque photos.

The week passed so quickly. Last Sunday I went to Monte Redondo with Ana, where some of the other volunteers are in training, and she and I went on an adventure with Derek and Justin, and some of Derek’s host brothers. We got a ride in the back of the pick-up truck to this little aldea called Rio Hondo, and hiked along the river till we got to this awesome area where we could leap off rocks into the deep waters. We ate fried chicken and drank soda and floated around in the sunshine. We couldn’t get a jalon (ride) back, though, so we hiked for almost two hours through the jungle to Monte Redondo. The kid in the front had to hack through the growth with his machete! It was totally badass, with the warm rain falling on my adventure hat…so much fun. Then I went to Derek’s house and had crab soup (no fur this time).

This week was my last one at the schools, so we had two despedidas (good-bye parties) and it was sad but fun. At my little one-room school house, Ana and I brought a piñata, pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, and some other treats for the kids. But when we showed up they had prepared for us a 45-minute dance show, featuring reggaeton, punta, and traditional vaquero dance. I took some videos and I wish to god I could show them to you guys…my favorite is this mortified-looking little 8-year-old boy who somehow got roped into doing this dance with about 7 other girls, and they’re all shaking their imaginary bosoms all over the place and he’s trying to do the same, while his friends are shrieking with laughter on the sidelines…it’s just priceless. The games afterward were more or less successful (some of the 6th graders cried when the little kids got to go first for pin-the-tail, and a kid nearly got his face smashed in by an over-zealous piñata-batter, at which point I screamed “STOP!” in English….it was kind of a disaster, actually). Piñatas here are crazy!!! The blindfolded kid just keeps whinging away while everyone else madly scrambles for the candy that may or may not be falling, the gringas shouting in panicked English while the teacher leans against the wall examining her nails…holy moley. Last time I do that. But I’ll miss those little guys…they gave me and Ana each a going-away present, which was some awesome bling. If anyone needs huge plastic diamond earrings and a matching bracelet, just let me know, I might let you borrow mine. The despedida at the other school was also interesting…on our second to last day we decided to do an American-style “Field Day” with relay-races, three-legged races, and Capture the Flag. It was only mildly disastrous, so I guess I ought to be proud. It took us about 45 minutes to organize teams with a mixture of each age group, because the kids kept running off to be with their friends. Once we finally had six teams that had a couple big kids on each team, we tried to do some basic relay races, like “Over-Under” with a ball. That went okay. Then we attempted this great game I read about, called three-legged soccer. It’s exactly what it sounds like. So after we spent like 20 minutes trying to explain the concept and demonstrating and tying 25 pairs of kids today with twine, we realized we had no soccer ball. I figured we could just do a race, but the crappy twine was cutting into the poor kids’ legs and they all had expressions of extreme pain on their faces, so we just ran around and cut all of them free. Again, I wish I could share the video Ana has of a bunch of kids hobbling around, screaming in pain. Twine sucks. Finally, we rallied the troops together and I explained the concept of “Robar the Bandera,” or Capture the Flag. We sent two gringas to each team, and the game began. For about 20 minutes, the kids just faced off awkwardly at the middle line, darting across for two seconds before turning on heel and dashing back into the safety on their own side. I spent most of the time in jail, except for one incident when I had to go explain to my team that burying the flag in the grass so no one knew where it was is actually cheating. It was a hot and rather stressful morning, but it was great anyway. We walked home and got a beer on the way to celebrate, at which point we realized that four gringas drinking a beer at 11:00am was extremely scandalous.

We capped off the week with a sweet workshop on how to give workshops on HIV/AIDS. After a day of learning and prep, they sent us off in groups of threes to give the charlas (workshops/talks) to groups of ninth graders. It was wonderful. The material was excellent; the Peace Corps really emphasizes interactive learning and creative, engaging activities that encourage learning through fun—not such a novel concept in the states, but nothing short of a revolution here. We started with a pre-test; it was incredible how ignorant these kids were—most though HIV could be transmitted through mosquito bites or kissing. And as the charla progressed, I realized they were lacking a lot of really basic biology—a lot of them didn’t understand about eggs and sperm, or didn’t realize women urinate and give birth from two different places, etc. But we passed around a box for them to fill with anonymous questions, and that was great—my lifelong dream of getting to answer the questions “What is masturbation?” or “How does anal sex work?” in Spanish to a bunch of adolescents has finally come true. However, the climax (no pun intended) of this sex-ed/HIV workshop was definitely when we passed out a banana and two condoms to each pair of kids and took them through the steps (there are about 10, by the way) of how to correctly use a condom. I wish I had pictures, guys.

Bedtime…tomorrow is our despedida for the host families. We’re hosting it in the library, and we’re making dessert and coffee. I’m in charge of games!! SCORE. And Monday we find out for sure where our sites will be…and on Tuesday, we depart for Zarabanda once again. We’ll stay with our original host families for a night, then head to our sites for a four-day visit. Then we’ll come back and finish up training. On the 26th of September, we’re officially sworn-in as volunteers, and the very next day, we all take off into the wild green yonder to our respective sites…I can’t believe training is nearly over.

Happy (early) Anniversary, Mom and Dad! I am sending you sweaty e-kisses as we speak.
Love,
Hayley

today i sweated so much i got a rash

30 August 2008

Hey, chochachos! It’s a hot ‘n rainy Saturday night, and I just went a little wild and ate a pupusa off the street (delicious hot and melty cheese tortilla thing). Then I went inside and drank some water. OUT OF CONTROOOOOL!!!!

If I’m having a tame night, it’s because Honduras has been so wacky in the past couple days. Yesterday my mom Dulce announced we were going to a wedding in Tegus, so I promptly borrowed a dress from a gringa friend and washed my hair. The wedding was to begin at 8:00pm (who gets married at 8pm on a Friday night is what I want to know), but due to some transit issues we didn’t get on the road until 8:30, which meant we rolled into the wedding at about 9:30pm. This seemed entirely unimportant, however. The reception was really fun…in a Honduran wedding sort of way I guess. I expected everyone to be dancing around like crazy, since that is my stereotype of latinos at parties, but it was totally High School Dance style—DJs on stage with a small disco ball, projecting florescent rainbows onto a virtually empty dance floor while everyone sat around, not wanting to be the first one on the floor. My sisters didn’t come, but a host cousin (also named Dulce, obviously) came and was extremely interested in dancing, basically all the time. Now, I like dancing. I do. But I define dancing rather broadly, as “wiggling to the music” or “bobbing to and fro,” and occasionally I will incorporate specific dance steps (such as churning the butter). My cousin Dulce, like all Hondurans, is blessed with liquid hips and an innate skill for deciphering all the subtle differences between the music styles and the accompanying dance moves. So we enter into this awkward music scene, and of course everyone and their mother is staring at me, because I am the tall white-haired freakazoid striding through the middle of the room. Of course, Dulce wants to dance and immediately drags me to the middle of the EMPTY dance floor, which has suddenly been transformed into the Hilariously Awkward Gringa Show, starring Hayley. The night progressed in pretty much the same way, but eventually more people joined the dance floor and it wasn’t so bad. Still, every time I stole a glance at my comfortably seated parents, they were doubled over with laughter. At one point, following the theme of high school dance, a woman approached me and whispered, “Do you see that handsome young man over there?” while pointing to a chubby dude who looked about 20, dancing around with a lady. I nodded, and she continued, “Well, he wants to dance with you.” I kind of expected her to hand me a note, all folded complicatedly with that little fold sticking out, hella middle-school style. I gave her a noncommittal “bueno…” and she took me by the hand and led me over to him, said “There you go, here’s the blondie!”, at which point he ditched the girl he was with and immediately began grooving in front of me. This was maybe the most awkward moment in my life, especially since the chick he ditched just stood there and watched, like a foot away. To make matters worse, Mr. Fat ‘n Sweaty seemed to be really into dancing with his eyes shut, which made me unsure of where exactly I was supposed to be looking. Anyway, this painfully awkward exchange went on for about three minutes, until the song finally freaking ended and I awkwardly offered him a handshake and ran away. Jesus.

Anyway, we didn’t eat until almost midnight and I danced until about 2:00am. I woke up this morning at about 7:30am, because I was promised an adventure. I thought it was a family reunion, but everyone stayed home except Dubal, Dona Dulce and I, so I’m not sure what you call it. It was cool though, the first time I’ve hung out with just my parents, and it was really lovely. Dulce and I kept lamenting on how soon I’ll have to head back to Valle de Angeles and how much we’ve grown to love one another. I feel like a part of this family and it breaks my heart that I have to leave ANOTHER family. They’re just so loving…anyway, we drove for like two hours through the beautiful, piney mountains until we got to corn country. We wound through corn fields until we finally happened upon a clearing, where we parked the truck and were met by their friends. They had build this sweet little gazebo out in the middle of rows of corn, with a smattering of mango and papaya trees. The gazebo had a little wood-burning grill and a delightful ratio of people-to-hammock, and we spent the day chewing on carne asada and various corn products (tamales, a thick ‘n hot corn drink that tasted like a tamale, and fried corn patties that also tasted like tamales) while lounging in the shade. I feel very strongly about hammocks and delicious corn products, so this was basically an excellent day for me.

Aside from weddings and corn parties, this week has been pretty intense. I get up every day, take my cold shower, eat an enormous breakfast, and hop on the bus to get to my village school, Buena Vista. Sara and I do a project with the kids (so far we’ve done creative writing projects, nutrition, and self-esteem) and then we play some games with the kids until it’s time to go home for lunch. After lunch, Ana and I head to another village school, Jose Trinidad Cabanas, where we do similar projects in the little one-room school. Then I head home, do my prep for the next day, and go to bed (though not before eating my weight in delicious fried foods). Sometimes I have Spanish class, and sometimes instead of Spanish class our project leaders randomly take us to a gorgeous pool two hours away for a day of hippie games and frosty lemonades in the pool (seriously, this happened on Thursday—they called it a “personal health day” and it was extremely awesome). OH THAT REMINDS ME I HAVE REALLY IMPORTANT INFORMATION!!!!! Dudes!! How could I forget!! I THINK I KNOW WHERE MY SITE IS!!

Finding out where your site is (where you’ll be placed for your two years of service) is a very lengthy and secretive process here in Youth Development. We have three “interviews,” in which we give our input on what we want to do, what our skills are, and any requests regarding location and/or site characteristics. During our final interview, which I had on Tuesday, our project leaders Rolando and Sandra tell us they’ve picked out a site for us, and give us certain characteristics about it, without telling us where it is. Why it’s so secretive, I don’t know—I just know they don’t officially announce our sites until Sept. 8, which is in 8 days from now. However, they told me enough about my site that I think I’ve got it figured out, and I’m so psyched. They said my site is VERY small and extremely rural. They said it’s on top of a mountain—but when I shrieked with joy they quickly informed me it’s an “ugly mountain, not green and pretty like in the states.” So if anyone wants to visit me on top of Ugly Mountain, just let me know. They said it has a river (yay fishing!) and that they saw a fox and a snake when they were last there (it was unclear in my interview whether the fox and snake were actually hanging out together, but that’s the impression that I got). They said it’s hot as the dickens, and extremely impoverished—one of the poorest areas in its department (there are 18 departments in Honduras, sort of like states). They said I will get a baseball team, and that the volunteer leaving the town is VERY enthusiastic about his baseball players. They said I will be the very first Youth Development volunteer the pueblo will have seen, which means it will be more challenging because I’ll have to train my counterparts on how to work with me. Counterparts are community organizations that I have been paired with for work—and I have three at the moment. One is an NGO that works with mothers and children, one is a primary school that is interested in starting a preschool, and one is a health center. They said it’s very rural, and that I’ll have electricity but no internet or anything. Based on all these clues, I made some phone calls to current volunteers and have deduced I am going to Alubaren, a small town of less than 1,000 in the very south of the Francisco Morazon department, which is the department where I currently live. Alubaren is so far south, though, it’s practically in the southern department of Choluteca. I know I originally said I was anti-south, due to the nasty heat, but I am so thrilled about my counterparts and the tiny, rural aspect that I don’t care. They said I’ll be working in nearby villages, and that to get around the mountainous area I’ll probably have to get a horse! CHILDHOOD DREAMS COMING TRUE: 1. I’m soooo excited to be working with a preschool and a health center….oh heavens. I can’t wait until I find out for sure that it’s Alubaren, but I’m willing to bet several lempiras on it.

Puppy update: little Osita seems to have decided my room is the coolest place in the world to hang out, and shows me her affection by leaving little gifts all over the floor while I’m at school. Many a laugh was had at my expense when I, rather flustered with my discovery, tried to explain to my host mom that the puppy had left “mountains of poo” and “wide lakes of pee-pee” on my floor. I guess I should learn how to say “piles” and “puddles.” Either way, she is remarkably still alive and has an extremely well-functioning digestive system.

Time for bed, dudes. By the way, I managed to watch Obama’s speech at the DNC the other night (struggling between listening to the faint English in the backyard and the booming Spanish dubbing), and I was so overwhelmed with pride in the new direction my country is headed that my eyeballs sweated a little. Dona Dulce and I had a long talk about him and she’s thrilled, too. GANA OBAMA!!

Paz,

Hayley