Today in church, there was a little girl who started choking during the sermon. Her dad and another woman were rushing her to the back of the sanctuary, hitting her on the back when she coughed up a piece of hard candy. They had her take a few sips of water, and then took her outside. I'm guessing they then took her into the school to calm down and relax some. It was really scary for a second, and the pastor paused to pray for her. I almost started crying, realizing once again how ridiculously sensitive I am with everything.
Afterwards, we had a celebration for the Kid's Day. There were two pinatas here for the kids to hit, and things were the calmest here since there was the smallest amount of kids there. I also further realized the dangers involved in pinatas, as a young man from the church climbed about 30 feet up into the tree to adjust the rope holding the pinata in place. All I kept thinking was, "If he fell and got seriously injured, there's no way he could say that it was worth it." But his tree climbing skills were impressive and nearly matched those of a monkey, so I had nothing to worry about. He came down safely a few minutes later.
We ate there at the church, having real tacos. They were amazing. There were cut pineapples to put on them, which seemed a little odd to me, but it was the best thing I've ever done to a taco, and I'm not sure how I liked tacos before pineapples.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
The Danger of Pinatas
Yesterday, we celebrated Kid's Day at the school. We had a pinata, and pizza and cake, and let them just play for most of the day. It was a lot of craziness, but the kids had a lot of fun, with the exception of the boy I had to hold back from running in while the other kids were swinging at the pinata, and the little girl who was terrified of the teachers dressed like clowns and the balloons. I hadn't really realized the danger of pinatas before, since all of my experiences were here in the US, where we like them, but don't get as intensely excited about them as they do here. As one kid stood and swung the short wooden pole full force at the colorful pinata, the other kids waiting anxiously at the sides, and would rush in when even a single piece fell. And the kid with the stick was usually still swinging. There was the one little boy that I had to hold back because he kept trying to run in to get the stick, and would have gotten hit several times had I not been keeping him close. And of course, when it finally completely breaks open, there's a rush to the center where a free-for-all fight for candy insues. When you have big 7 year olds mixed with little 3 year olds, it's a wonder that none of them actually got hurt.
We also went to celebrate at Los Bordos. We took a bunch of pinatas there and gifts and had some fun. We did the "Doctor Skit" which I had done and seen a number of times at Wildwood, so I was very excited to participate in that. I now want to introduce them to some more camp skits, because they're so much fun for the kids and the participants. :)
If the pinata at school was dangerous with 30 decently well-behaved kids, it was even worse at Los Bordos with closer to 200 kids that were desperate for the candy and a chance to get a whack at it. Some of the little girls that went up there took these swings where they spun the stick in a full circle for maximum power, and just barely missed hitting the kids that were all crowded around. And then when the candy came out... pure insanity. There were people at about 5 different points that were throwing the candy in handfuls out to the crowd to keep them spread out, but it was still ridiculous.
After that came the handing out of gifts. We had them divided by age and gender, and gave them each a small bag with some toys and necessities in it: soap, a toothbrush, washclothes, flip flops, pencils, crayons, a little notebook, an etch-a-sketch, etc. They lined up in long lines and we marked their hands with Sharpie as they came through, but they were pushing to get to the front, and we had parents demanding gifts for kids that weren't there and cutting in line. I saw a couple of parents trying to wash the marks off their kids so they could get another gift. We finally just had to stop handing out gifts, before pure chaos broke out. It's so sad that people can turn a good thing into something bad. We come to them with generosity, but they ruin it with their greed. It's hard to help people who just want to take what you have, and don't seem at all grateful.
We also went to celebrate at Los Bordos. We took a bunch of pinatas there and gifts and had some fun. We did the "Doctor Skit" which I had done and seen a number of times at Wildwood, so I was very excited to participate in that. I now want to introduce them to some more camp skits, because they're so much fun for the kids and the participants. :)
If the pinata at school was dangerous with 30 decently well-behaved kids, it was even worse at Los Bordos with closer to 200 kids that were desperate for the candy and a chance to get a whack at it. Some of the little girls that went up there took these swings where they spun the stick in a full circle for maximum power, and just barely missed hitting the kids that were all crowded around. And then when the candy came out... pure insanity. There were people at about 5 different points that were throwing the candy in handfuls out to the crowd to keep them spread out, but it was still ridiculous.
After that came the handing out of gifts. We had them divided by age and gender, and gave them each a small bag with some toys and necessities in it: soap, a toothbrush, washclothes, flip flops, pencils, crayons, a little notebook, an etch-a-sketch, etc. They lined up in long lines and we marked their hands with Sharpie as they came through, but they were pushing to get to the front, and we had parents demanding gifts for kids that weren't there and cutting in line. I saw a couple of parents trying to wash the marks off their kids so they could get another gift. We finally just had to stop handing out gifts, before pure chaos broke out. It's so sad that people can turn a good thing into something bad. We come to them with generosity, but they ruin it with their greed. It's hard to help people who just want to take what you have, and don't seem at all grateful.
April
I have a good friend from Wildwood named April. Before she worked at camp, she spent a couple of years living in Honduras, in a small town a couple hours south of San Pedro Sula called Copan. She also taught at a bilingual school and lived with a host family. She was one of the first people I went to when I first heard God's calling on my life to go to Honduras, because I knew she would be able to help, and she was actually the first to suggest working at a school as a good source of income.
She was down for just a couple of weeks, visiting her host family in Copan, and wanted to come see me last night before she flew back to the states. So, we were able to hang out for a few hours, and I told her everything that I'd been feeling, with language struggles and wanting to just give up. She told me that she'd felt the same way after two weeks, and she had taken more semesters of Spanish than I had, as well as having visited several Spanish-speaking countries.
She told me that as long as I knew that God had me here, I'd be fine. Struggles were normal. It took her 5-6 months to become good enough with Spanish to communicate, and another 6 months to really get good at it. Although it was a little discouraging that it's probably going to take longer than I'd thought, it was also encouraging to know that she struggled, but is bilingual now. Now, I'm prepared to put in the work it's going to take to learn the language, and I know that it's going to pay off eventually. Practice makes perfect. Or, as April told me "poco de poco." (little by little)
She was down for just a couple of weeks, visiting her host family in Copan, and wanted to come see me last night before she flew back to the states. So, we were able to hang out for a few hours, and I told her everything that I'd been feeling, with language struggles and wanting to just give up. She told me that she'd felt the same way after two weeks, and she had taken more semesters of Spanish than I had, as well as having visited several Spanish-speaking countries.
She told me that as long as I knew that God had me here, I'd be fine. Struggles were normal. It took her 5-6 months to become good enough with Spanish to communicate, and another 6 months to really get good at it. Although it was a little discouraging that it's probably going to take longer than I'd thought, it was also encouraging to know that she struggled, but is bilingual now. Now, I'm prepared to put in the work it's going to take to learn the language, and I know that it's going to pay off eventually. Practice makes perfect. Or, as April told me "poco de poco." (little by little)
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The life and death of Paco
Sorry it's been a few days since I updated. It's been a rough few days. I've been struggling to feel at home, especially with the language barrier and not being able to communicate very well with anyone.
Then, on Tuesday, a little kitten wandered into the school during lunch. They chased it towards the door, but he ran into the office instead and hid beneath a shelf. I had everyone step back, and went in to get him. I reached in tentatively, but he just looked at me, and allowed me to grab him. I handed him to the security guy, and didn't think about what he might have done with him.
Not even half an hour later, we were outside during recess, and one of the boys ran to me, "Miss! Miss! (insert string of spanish words here)... gatito!" I looked to where he was pointing, and there was the little kitten, crouching near the corner of the building. I picked him up and decided that there was no point to throwing him out again. So, I took him inside, and put him in the shower that's in the bathroom of my classroom. I let the water run so he'd have some water, and fished some leftover tortillas out of the trash and gave them to him. He dug in.
He was mostly white, with a black tail and a black patch over one ear. His eyes were green, implying that he was probably around 4 months, but he was so small and thin that he could easily lay on one of my hands. I could feel all of his bones, and his bloated stomach was filled with worms. Every time I checked on him, he cried and came eagerly to me, and it wasn't just about the food. He smelled like pee and was coated in grease and dirt, but there was trust and affection in his eyes.
I got permission and took him home, agreeing to keep my room clean in exchange for keeping the cat. I worked with him that evening, using an old toothbrush and water to try to get him a little cleaner. He purred for a few minutes, and then got anxious and started wandering. I had given him more food, but he threw most of it up. By late evening, he had lost interest in food and wasn't active at all. I put him on my bed next to me so he wouldn't overheat being on me, but he crawled into my lap anyway.
I tucked him into the drawer of my nightstand for the night, and was pleasantly surprised to find him alive in the morning, though his condition had not improved. He no longer had an interest in drinking even, and had yet to go to the bathroom. I knew he needed vet care, but had no way of taking him on my own, and school comes first. I was able to take him that afternoon, getting dropped off on the way to get Kevin from school. By then, he had wet himself and was laying on his side, all bad signs.
The vet wasn't in, and won't be until Monday, but the clinic was still open because they sell dog food and supplies as well. I (and Lindsay, my interpreter who I'd be lost without) convinced them to give him some fluids anyway, and I went into the exam room with the old man who was the tech, who gave him fluids under the skin. I trusted that he knew what he was doing, but a little alarm went off in my head when he was done. There were too many fluids given.
By the time we got home (a 10 minute ride), little Paco was open-mouth breathing and cried with a gurgled sound. He had too many fluids for his body to absorb, so he was drowning.
As he lay dying in my lap, everything came crashing down at once: my feelings of utter lonliness, my past failures, and my lack of feeling like this place is home. To me, Paco was more than just a little stray. He was going to make this place feel like home. I've never gone more than 6 months in my entire life without at least one cat around. I thought he was an answer to prayer for this place to feel like home. I blame myself for his death, because I should have known how much he needed, or at least known when to stop. I was the one in that room with knowledge and experience, but I did nothing.
Many times in the past, satan has brought up my failures and used those to label me a failure. The biggest one was my failure of the vet tech program and resulting termination of my job. And that following summer, I failed at really being a staff member at Wildwood as I blatently broke almost all of the rules just because I wanted to. And now I feel like I'm failing here. I was so sure that I'm supposed to work with the girls at Casita, but I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that. I have no way of getting there, and I don't speak enough Spanish to be able to be of much use at this point. It's frustrating to know God's calling, but not be able to fulfill it.
Anyway, when my poor little cat finally stopped breathing, I put him in a box and let the emotions hit me. I cried on my bed for a long time, calling out to God for answers and help. Before I got my answer, I was going to just curl up and sleep, like I usually do in such situations, but I knew that wasn't the right thing to do. So, I picked up my guitar and started playing. The first song I played was "Born Again" by Third Day. Here are the lyrics:
Verse 1
Today I found myself,
After searching all these years,
And the man that I saw,
He wasn't at all who I'd thought He'd be,
I was lost when You found me here,
And I was broken beyond repair,
Then You came along and sang Your song over me
Verse 2
Make a promise to me now,
Reassure my heart somehow,
That the love that I feel,
is so much more real than anything
I've a feeling in my soul,
And I pray that I'm not wrong,
That the life I have now,
It is only the beginning
Chorus
It feels like I'm born again
It feels like I'm living
For the very first time
For the very first time
It feels like I'm breathing
It feels like I'm moving
For the very first time
For the very first time
Bridge
I wasn't looking for something that was more,
Than what I had yesterday,
Then You came to me,
Then You gave to me,
Life and a love that I've never known,
That I've never felt before
The words from that first verse hit me. I saw who I am, and it wasn't someone that I liked. It was the same person I'd always been. I'm in new place and doing new ministry, but I've still got the same skeletons in my closet. I was sure I didn't pack those, but there they were.
I went through about 12 other songs, singing and playing for an hour straight, ignoring the pain in my left fingertips and right shoulder as I went on playing and singing and crying. Every song I played was a worship song, and so many lines were hitting me about restoration and trusting God no matter what, and following him through the storm. As I sang about being held in His arms, and asking Him to be my shelter, I finally heard Him speak: "I am home."
Now I know that I don't need a cat for this to feel like home. I don't need to understand every word spoken to me, or why they eat beans for breakfast. All I need is to understand that my home is in His presence. It's where He is, and He's everywhere, all the time. There's nothing else I need in this world but Him. I took a huge leap of faith by coming down here, so I'm not sure why I didn't think He'd catch me. But He did, and now I'm back on track.
I still miss my family (actual relatives, and close friends), and I still feel sort of out of place, but I know that this is where I'm supposed to be, and I'm in a process. Being called to do mission work doesn't mean that I'm perfect, that I've arrived. I've only just begun this journey.
Thank you all for your prayer support. Please continue to pray for me as I'm on this journey of God changing me as I allow Him to work through me to bring His love to the people of Honduras.
Then, on Tuesday, a little kitten wandered into the school during lunch. They chased it towards the door, but he ran into the office instead and hid beneath a shelf. I had everyone step back, and went in to get him. I reached in tentatively, but he just looked at me, and allowed me to grab him. I handed him to the security guy, and didn't think about what he might have done with him.
Not even half an hour later, we were outside during recess, and one of the boys ran to me, "Miss! Miss! (insert string of spanish words here)... gatito!" I looked to where he was pointing, and there was the little kitten, crouching near the corner of the building. I picked him up and decided that there was no point to throwing him out again. So, I took him inside, and put him in the shower that's in the bathroom of my classroom. I let the water run so he'd have some water, and fished some leftover tortillas out of the trash and gave them to him. He dug in.
He was mostly white, with a black tail and a black patch over one ear. His eyes were green, implying that he was probably around 4 months, but he was so small and thin that he could easily lay on one of my hands. I could feel all of his bones, and his bloated stomach was filled with worms. Every time I checked on him, he cried and came eagerly to me, and it wasn't just about the food. He smelled like pee and was coated in grease and dirt, but there was trust and affection in his eyes.
I got permission and took him home, agreeing to keep my room clean in exchange for keeping the cat. I worked with him that evening, using an old toothbrush and water to try to get him a little cleaner. He purred for a few minutes, and then got anxious and started wandering. I had given him more food, but he threw most of it up. By late evening, he had lost interest in food and wasn't active at all. I put him on my bed next to me so he wouldn't overheat being on me, but he crawled into my lap anyway.
I tucked him into the drawer of my nightstand for the night, and was pleasantly surprised to find him alive in the morning, though his condition had not improved. He no longer had an interest in drinking even, and had yet to go to the bathroom. I knew he needed vet care, but had no way of taking him on my own, and school comes first. I was able to take him that afternoon, getting dropped off on the way to get Kevin from school. By then, he had wet himself and was laying on his side, all bad signs.
The vet wasn't in, and won't be until Monday, but the clinic was still open because they sell dog food and supplies as well. I (and Lindsay, my interpreter who I'd be lost without) convinced them to give him some fluids anyway, and I went into the exam room with the old man who was the tech, who gave him fluids under the skin. I trusted that he knew what he was doing, but a little alarm went off in my head when he was done. There were too many fluids given.
By the time we got home (a 10 minute ride), little Paco was open-mouth breathing and cried with a gurgled sound. He had too many fluids for his body to absorb, so he was drowning.
As he lay dying in my lap, everything came crashing down at once: my feelings of utter lonliness, my past failures, and my lack of feeling like this place is home. To me, Paco was more than just a little stray. He was going to make this place feel like home. I've never gone more than 6 months in my entire life without at least one cat around. I thought he was an answer to prayer for this place to feel like home. I blame myself for his death, because I should have known how much he needed, or at least known when to stop. I was the one in that room with knowledge and experience, but I did nothing.
Many times in the past, satan has brought up my failures and used those to label me a failure. The biggest one was my failure of the vet tech program and resulting termination of my job. And that following summer, I failed at really being a staff member at Wildwood as I blatently broke almost all of the rules just because I wanted to. And now I feel like I'm failing here. I was so sure that I'm supposed to work with the girls at Casita, but I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that. I have no way of getting there, and I don't speak enough Spanish to be able to be of much use at this point. It's frustrating to know God's calling, but not be able to fulfill it.
Anyway, when my poor little cat finally stopped breathing, I put him in a box and let the emotions hit me. I cried on my bed for a long time, calling out to God for answers and help. Before I got my answer, I was going to just curl up and sleep, like I usually do in such situations, but I knew that wasn't the right thing to do. So, I picked up my guitar and started playing. The first song I played was "Born Again" by Third Day. Here are the lyrics:
Verse 1
Today I found myself,
After searching all these years,
And the man that I saw,
He wasn't at all who I'd thought He'd be,
I was lost when You found me here,
And I was broken beyond repair,
Then You came along and sang Your song over me
Verse 2
Make a promise to me now,
Reassure my heart somehow,
That the love that I feel,
is so much more real than anything
I've a feeling in my soul,
And I pray that I'm not wrong,
That the life I have now,
It is only the beginning
Chorus
It feels like I'm born again
It feels like I'm living
For the very first time
For the very first time
It feels like I'm breathing
It feels like I'm moving
For the very first time
For the very first time
Bridge
I wasn't looking for something that was more,
Than what I had yesterday,
Then You came to me,
Then You gave to me,
Life and a love that I've never known,
That I've never felt before
The words from that first verse hit me. I saw who I am, and it wasn't someone that I liked. It was the same person I'd always been. I'm in new place and doing new ministry, but I've still got the same skeletons in my closet. I was sure I didn't pack those, but there they were.
I went through about 12 other songs, singing and playing for an hour straight, ignoring the pain in my left fingertips and right shoulder as I went on playing and singing and crying. Every song I played was a worship song, and so many lines were hitting me about restoration and trusting God no matter what, and following him through the storm. As I sang about being held in His arms, and asking Him to be my shelter, I finally heard Him speak: "I am home."
Now I know that I don't need a cat for this to feel like home. I don't need to understand every word spoken to me, or why they eat beans for breakfast. All I need is to understand that my home is in His presence. It's where He is, and He's everywhere, all the time. There's nothing else I need in this world but Him. I took a huge leap of faith by coming down here, so I'm not sure why I didn't think He'd catch me. But He did, and now I'm back on track.
I still miss my family (actual relatives, and close friends), and I still feel sort of out of place, but I know that this is where I'm supposed to be, and I'm in a process. Being called to do mission work doesn't mean that I'm perfect, that I've arrived. I've only just begun this journey.
Thank you all for your prayer support. Please continue to pray for me as I'm on this journey of God changing me as I allow Him to work through me to bring His love to the people of Honduras.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Women's Conference
Last night, there was a women's conference held here by Tammy's church, that connected women from all over the Latin American area. We had a couple women from Mexico, a group from Guatemala, and a pastor from El Salvador come in. There were about 200 women that attended.
Although I didn't understand most of it, I did come to a huge personal revelation, and that's how frustrated I really am that I don't understand most of what's being spoken to and around me. I don't know why it hit me so hard there, but it did. I've begun praying hard for understanding, that God would open up my mind and allow me to not only understand Spanish, but also be able to speak it with boldness. So far, I've only been brave enough to speak to my students in Spanish, as well as with the couple I'm living with, but they don't know more than a dozen words in English, so it's really hard to communicate with them.
At any rate, it's difficult living here when I don't know the language very well. I would say I only actually know what's going on about 10% of the time. The rest of the time, I'm clueless. For the first couple of days, the people around me would be talking in rapid Spanish, then turn to me and say, "vamos," so I would go. I am continuing to pray about it, and will look forward to the day when I understand. Don Jose told me this morning that I'd get it all in 3 months. That's about the time frame I was thinking, so we might be right. Perhaps in 3 months I'll be able to write a blog fully in Spanish, just for the fun of it. :)
Other than that personal revelation, there wasn't much else to be learned from the conference for me. It was definitely different from anything I've been to in the states. They had food that was just in the foyer, that you could go out and get at your leisure. The speakers did a lot of yelling, and at the end, there were a lot of women crying. Not crying so much as openly weeping. There was a team of pastors that would zero in on some women, and start praying for them until they fell to the ground, upon which time they would lay a piece of cloth over them, like a blanket. It was very strange, but I guess it's pretty normal here.
Today is Sunday, so we went to church this morning after a breakfast of tortillas, eggs, and beans. I was trying to listen and understand the sermon up until I realized he was talking about angels, and how they help us with our ministry. At least, I think that's what he was talking about. I sort of stopped listening at that point and drew a picture instead. Then, I got to thinking about why I objected to the thought that angels might help us with ministry. It makes sense, I suppose, but I guess I really just don't like when people focus on angels, and rely on them for help rather than God. That might be way off from what was said, but I still don't like the idea of focusing on and giving credit to anyone or anything but God, because we can't do anything without him.
Well, that's all for now. I might post again later if something else happens today. Please be praying for me that I gain understanding of the language, as well as the boldness to speak it.
Although I didn't understand most of it, I did come to a huge personal revelation, and that's how frustrated I really am that I don't understand most of what's being spoken to and around me. I don't know why it hit me so hard there, but it did. I've begun praying hard for understanding, that God would open up my mind and allow me to not only understand Spanish, but also be able to speak it with boldness. So far, I've only been brave enough to speak to my students in Spanish, as well as with the couple I'm living with, but they don't know more than a dozen words in English, so it's really hard to communicate with them.
At any rate, it's difficult living here when I don't know the language very well. I would say I only actually know what's going on about 10% of the time. The rest of the time, I'm clueless. For the first couple of days, the people around me would be talking in rapid Spanish, then turn to me and say, "vamos," so I would go. I am continuing to pray about it, and will look forward to the day when I understand. Don Jose told me this morning that I'd get it all in 3 months. That's about the time frame I was thinking, so we might be right. Perhaps in 3 months I'll be able to write a blog fully in Spanish, just for the fun of it. :)
Other than that personal revelation, there wasn't much else to be learned from the conference for me. It was definitely different from anything I've been to in the states. They had food that was just in the foyer, that you could go out and get at your leisure. The speakers did a lot of yelling, and at the end, there were a lot of women crying. Not crying so much as openly weeping. There was a team of pastors that would zero in on some women, and start praying for them until they fell to the ground, upon which time they would lay a piece of cloth over them, like a blanket. It was very strange, but I guess it's pretty normal here.
Today is Sunday, so we went to church this morning after a breakfast of tortillas, eggs, and beans. I was trying to listen and understand the sermon up until I realized he was talking about angels, and how they help us with our ministry. At least, I think that's what he was talking about. I sort of stopped listening at that point and drew a picture instead. Then, I got to thinking about why I objected to the thought that angels might help us with ministry. It makes sense, I suppose, but I guess I really just don't like when people focus on angels, and rely on them for help rather than God. That might be way off from what was said, but I still don't like the idea of focusing on and giving credit to anyone or anything but God, because we can't do anything without him.
Well, that's all for now. I might post again later if something else happens today. Please be praying for me that I gain understanding of the language, as well as the boldness to speak it.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Finally, a break! So I can talk about work... :)
So, yesterday was insanity. I took a half hour long nap during the only legitimate free time I had yesterday. :)
The first day of school was scary. We weren't given any sort of directions as to what to do. The beginning of the day was easy because it was just a group Bible time where I learned about the Honduran flag. Then, they had recess, during which time I held the swing set together. After they had lunch, the bell rang and they ran to their classrooms. I asked Lindsay what I was supposed to do since I had 6 students sitting in my classroom, and had not been told what to do with them. She told me something along the lines of "Go in there and work with them."
So, I went in and greeted my class, speaking first in broken Spanish and then in slow English. Having no idea what I was supposed to do, I went around the room and had them say names, then pointed to all the letter pictures on the wall and had them say all the pictures in English. Most of them knew a lot from last year. I was quite impressed. Then, we went over colors in English, and class was finally over.
Today was much better because I had an actual schedule of things to go over today. It was a list of about 7 different things and I had an hour with them, but the first thing was simply "introduce yourself." That took about 30 seconds, with me stretching it out and encouraging them to speak in English. I had to skip the next activity because they wouldn't do it. They were supposed to walk around the class, and stop when they heard me clap my hands. But they were all feeling awkward and shy, so they didn't leave their desks.
Onto teaching them the difference between their right and left hands. After a "rousing" version of Father Abraham in which I sang while most of them did the motions and one just laughed at me, I marked their hands with sharpies, red for their right hand and green for the left, and we sat in a circle and slapped alternating hands into the middle. We did another one with learning up and down, lifting their hands up and then down. I started each activity in Spanish with motions, then switched to English, keeping the motions and the rhythm. Hopefully, some of it stuck. Time will tell.
There is one girl in my class by the name of Gissel, who's mom didn't come to get her at 10 like she was supposed to, and came at 12 instead. After the other kids left (whose parents were also late, or who worked there and so they didn't leave yet), I hung out with her for about half an hour. She had this green bead that she got from somewhere that she was playing with. When she first brought it to me, she was palming it, so I started showing her some magic tricks, making the bead appear in one hand after waving the other above it. She did it, too, and did very well for a 5 year old who just learned to palm stuff. It was so much fun just playing with her, and working around the language barrier. It proved to me that it can be done, and that it's giong to be ok. This year is going to take a lot of work, but I'm ready for it. I will teach my kids English, and I will learn Spanish.
In other news, I got a job from a freelance site that I'm signed up with. I need to get on to take another look at it, but I'll be getting paid $50 to edit about 60 pages of writing, turing a case study of sorts into a story. They guy said it should be easy, and I really hope so. I tend to go into things thinking they're going to be easy, then finding out there's a lot more work and time involved than what I thought. Oh, well. I'll be getting paid to do it if it takes me one hour or ten. I'm just grateful for the opportunity for a little extra income.
I also helped Lindsay teach an English class at the bordo yesterday. There wasn't much to that experience. She pulled me to the front suddenly to pronounce the words more correctly for the 38 children and women gathered there to learn. I did love seeing the eagerness to learn English, especially in a couple of older women there. It's good to see that they want to learn, so they can better themselves and hopefully break the cycle of poverty they're stuck in.
Well, that's all for now. Tomorrow, I'm going to a HUGE women's conference where women have gathered from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Costa Rica. Four of them are staying in our house tonight. I'm sure there will be some amazing things I'll learn and be able to share. I'm not sure that I'll get on because it's in the evening, so we're bound to get home late, but I'll definitely post something as soon as possible!
The first day of school was scary. We weren't given any sort of directions as to what to do. The beginning of the day was easy because it was just a group Bible time where I learned about the Honduran flag. Then, they had recess, during which time I held the swing set together. After they had lunch, the bell rang and they ran to their classrooms. I asked Lindsay what I was supposed to do since I had 6 students sitting in my classroom, and had not been told what to do with them. She told me something along the lines of "Go in there and work with them."
So, I went in and greeted my class, speaking first in broken Spanish and then in slow English. Having no idea what I was supposed to do, I went around the room and had them say names, then pointed to all the letter pictures on the wall and had them say all the pictures in English. Most of them knew a lot from last year. I was quite impressed. Then, we went over colors in English, and class was finally over.
Today was much better because I had an actual schedule of things to go over today. It was a list of about 7 different things and I had an hour with them, but the first thing was simply "introduce yourself." That took about 30 seconds, with me stretching it out and encouraging them to speak in English. I had to skip the next activity because they wouldn't do it. They were supposed to walk around the class, and stop when they heard me clap my hands. But they were all feeling awkward and shy, so they didn't leave their desks.
Onto teaching them the difference between their right and left hands. After a "rousing" version of Father Abraham in which I sang while most of them did the motions and one just laughed at me, I marked their hands with sharpies, red for their right hand and green for the left, and we sat in a circle and slapped alternating hands into the middle. We did another one with learning up and down, lifting their hands up and then down. I started each activity in Spanish with motions, then switched to English, keeping the motions and the rhythm. Hopefully, some of it stuck. Time will tell.
There is one girl in my class by the name of Gissel, who's mom didn't come to get her at 10 like she was supposed to, and came at 12 instead. After the other kids left (whose parents were also late, or who worked there and so they didn't leave yet), I hung out with her for about half an hour. She had this green bead that she got from somewhere that she was playing with. When she first brought it to me, she was palming it, so I started showing her some magic tricks, making the bead appear in one hand after waving the other above it. She did it, too, and did very well for a 5 year old who just learned to palm stuff. It was so much fun just playing with her, and working around the language barrier. It proved to me that it can be done, and that it's giong to be ok. This year is going to take a lot of work, but I'm ready for it. I will teach my kids English, and I will learn Spanish.
In other news, I got a job from a freelance site that I'm signed up with. I need to get on to take another look at it, but I'll be getting paid $50 to edit about 60 pages of writing, turing a case study of sorts into a story. They guy said it should be easy, and I really hope so. I tend to go into things thinking they're going to be easy, then finding out there's a lot more work and time involved than what I thought. Oh, well. I'll be getting paid to do it if it takes me one hour or ten. I'm just grateful for the opportunity for a little extra income.
I also helped Lindsay teach an English class at the bordo yesterday. There wasn't much to that experience. She pulled me to the front suddenly to pronounce the words more correctly for the 38 children and women gathered there to learn. I did love seeing the eagerness to learn English, especially in a couple of older women there. It's good to see that they want to learn, so they can better themselves and hopefully break the cycle of poverty they're stuck in.
Well, that's all for now. Tomorrow, I'm going to a HUGE women's conference where women have gathered from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Costa Rica. Four of them are staying in our house tonight. I'm sure there will be some amazing things I'll learn and be able to share. I'm not sure that I'll get on because it's in the evening, so we're bound to get home late, but I'll definitely post something as soon as possible!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Day 3 - Casita
This morning was similar to yesterday morning. I went to work at the school. I worked with a wonderful young woman today who's bilingual. Although she is originally from Honduras, she spent about 6 years living in the states, so she's fluent. Today, as we were talking about getting tan, we discovered that my arms are darker than hers. I felt satisfied to know I was darker than a Honduran, and she now wants to go tanning. She also invited me to a water park, and I'm really excited about this friendship that sprang up. It feels good to click with someone that quickly and well.
After an amazing meal of rice, salad, and BBQ chicken, I headed off to help Shari with her bi-weekly Bible study at Casita. I had forgotten how much the girl's orphanage resembles a prison, with 20 foot walls and barbed wire around the top. It's partially to keep them in or else they'll run and go back to drugs and sex on the streets, and it's partially to keep gangs out or else they'll come in and rape the girls inside. I can't imagine living under such conditions and with such constant fear.
There are a lot of babies there, because of the "loose" culture of Honduras and sexual abuse. I got to hold a little boy (who had thicker hair than I do) who was born on the 16th, making him a little more than 2 weeks old. What a precious boy! I was a little intimidated to be holding such a little one, but who can resist such opportunities?
As the Bible study started, I instantly made a new friend, a young girl with cropped hair and a green dress. I didn't get her name, but she was as touchy and sweet as they come. I handed out small sheets of paper with the verse on it that we were going over, I Peter 2:9. We said it several times, reading together and repeating each phrase after Alba (a young woman who lives with Terry and Shari). I don't think the girl knew how to read, but I followed the words with my finger as I read the words to the best of my ability. I can read Spanish pretty well in my head, but have trouble with the bigger words when reading out loud. But, by the end, she was able to say some of the phrases with the rest of the group. I stumbled through the last word, which ends in "able," which I was naturally pronouncing like I would table, or any other such word. But they pronounce each letter, so she was giving me funny looks. I asked her, and she corrected me with an encouraging smile. It's remarkably humbling to be corrected by a child, but it also feels good because she did it kindly, genuinely wanting me to speak better.
After Bible study, I helped pass out the cups of juice and cookies, and went to look around. They have a garden that someone came to help them plant, but it's not much. There are maybe 10 papaya trees scattered throughout a side yard of grass. The enclosure where the chickens were was empty. Shari had told me the other day that all the chickens were gone. When she'd called the director about what type of food she was supposed to get for the chickens, the woman told her they had all died. It's still a mystery to us as to how that happened. The chickens were something I was looking forward to helping with. :(
I then played with one of the toddlers as she ate her cookies. Mostly, we just made noises back and forth at each other and made faces. When I asked her her name, she said "Cinco" and held up two fingers. She's 3 years old and her name is Nicole, so I'm not really sure what was going on there. She was laughing at the time, too, so I suspect she was just being silly. But when I did call her silly, she insisted that she was not. I suppose not everything 3 year olds say can be trusted.
On the way back, the rain started coming down in buckets. It's crazy. You can see a video of it on my facebook. If I upload it to youtube, I'll be sure to put a link in here.
In other news, I got a list of students. I have 6 students, all age 5, and that's the biggest class there. There's a total of 20 students enrolled in school, but that's including Tammy's daughter who's only about 3, so I think she'll mostly just be hanging out. I also found out that I will be teaching science class, but that's only twice a week, and I have the book for it, so that shouldn't be a big deal.
Also, I had a scare with my camera. I replaced the batteries (old, dying ones with brand new ones), and suddenly my camera would shut off every time I held the picture button half down to focus. Then it started shutting off as soon as I turned it on. I was so upset because I just got the camera like 2 weeks ago so that I could be taking pictures and putting them up, but then I thought it was broken. So, I put the old batteries back in, and it worked. I put some different new ones in, and now it's back to working just fine. Yay!!! I'm not sure what the problem was before. I guess one of the new ones was defective or something. Oh, well. It's behind me now, and I can start taking pictures and posting them here, and on facebook!
Well, that's all for now. I'm sure I'll have more stories for tomorrow about the first day of school! :)
After an amazing meal of rice, salad, and BBQ chicken, I headed off to help Shari with her bi-weekly Bible study at Casita. I had forgotten how much the girl's orphanage resembles a prison, with 20 foot walls and barbed wire around the top. It's partially to keep them in or else they'll run and go back to drugs and sex on the streets, and it's partially to keep gangs out or else they'll come in and rape the girls inside. I can't imagine living under such conditions and with such constant fear.
There are a lot of babies there, because of the "loose" culture of Honduras and sexual abuse. I got to hold a little boy (who had thicker hair than I do) who was born on the 16th, making him a little more than 2 weeks old. What a precious boy! I was a little intimidated to be holding such a little one, but who can resist such opportunities?
As the Bible study started, I instantly made a new friend, a young girl with cropped hair and a green dress. I didn't get her name, but she was as touchy and sweet as they come. I handed out small sheets of paper with the verse on it that we were going over, I Peter 2:9. We said it several times, reading together and repeating each phrase after Alba (a young woman who lives with Terry and Shari). I don't think the girl knew how to read, but I followed the words with my finger as I read the words to the best of my ability. I can read Spanish pretty well in my head, but have trouble with the bigger words when reading out loud. But, by the end, she was able to say some of the phrases with the rest of the group. I stumbled through the last word, which ends in "able," which I was naturally pronouncing like I would table, or any other such word. But they pronounce each letter, so she was giving me funny looks. I asked her, and she corrected me with an encouraging smile. It's remarkably humbling to be corrected by a child, but it also feels good because she did it kindly, genuinely wanting me to speak better.
After Bible study, I helped pass out the cups of juice and cookies, and went to look around. They have a garden that someone came to help them plant, but it's not much. There are maybe 10 papaya trees scattered throughout a side yard of grass. The enclosure where the chickens were was empty. Shari had told me the other day that all the chickens were gone. When she'd called the director about what type of food she was supposed to get for the chickens, the woman told her they had all died. It's still a mystery to us as to how that happened. The chickens were something I was looking forward to helping with. :(
I then played with one of the toddlers as she ate her cookies. Mostly, we just made noises back and forth at each other and made faces. When I asked her her name, she said "Cinco" and held up two fingers. She's 3 years old and her name is Nicole, so I'm not really sure what was going on there. She was laughing at the time, too, so I suspect she was just being silly. But when I did call her silly, she insisted that she was not. I suppose not everything 3 year olds say can be trusted.
On the way back, the rain started coming down in buckets. It's crazy. You can see a video of it on my facebook. If I upload it to youtube, I'll be sure to put a link in here.
In other news, I got a list of students. I have 6 students, all age 5, and that's the biggest class there. There's a total of 20 students enrolled in school, but that's including Tammy's daughter who's only about 3, so I think she'll mostly just be hanging out. I also found out that I will be teaching science class, but that's only twice a week, and I have the book for it, so that shouldn't be a big deal.
Also, I had a scare with my camera. I replaced the batteries (old, dying ones with brand new ones), and suddenly my camera would shut off every time I held the picture button half down to focus. Then it started shutting off as soon as I turned it on. I was so upset because I just got the camera like 2 weeks ago so that I could be taking pictures and putting them up, but then I thought it was broken. So, I put the old batteries back in, and it worked. I put some different new ones in, and now it's back to working just fine. Yay!!! I'm not sure what the problem was before. I guess one of the new ones was defective or something. Oh, well. It's behind me now, and I can start taking pictures and posting them here, and on facebook!
Well, that's all for now. I'm sure I'll have more stories for tomorrow about the first day of school! :)
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