Reflections part trois

These past weeks have been filled with news and excitement ... so much so that I've barely had time to think and sleep let alone write and reflect. Zelaya, the Honduran President, was ousted with a military coup, and since then there has been a lot of political talk here in Honduras, albeit not much action. I've learned a lot about Latin American politics - about Alba and the Central/South American alliance, about how Zelaya supported los pobres (the poor) whereas Michelletti (the new interim president) has more support from big businesses and the rich, and about what various people in the community think will happen in the next few weeks when Zelaya returns, or doesn't return, whatever it may be. I hope that everything will stabilize, of course, because safety is important and we need to be able to get out of the country in 5 some weeks. However, in a way it's kinda exciting to be part of history and to learn more about Honduras' politics and to compare Honduras to all the other countries' governments I learned way back in AP Comparative Gov junior year of high school.
We're very safe in the volunteer house and El Porvenir, and even if something happens at the capital (Tegucigalpa) or in the major cities, I doubt much of it will reach us way over on the northern coast. So far life has carried on peacefully as usual in Porvenir; the fishermen fish, the pineapple workers work in the field; mothers cook and clean and care for the kids; emaciated dogs run around and scratch their legs; wayward cows moo and make their way through stagnant pools and parade their smelly selves around town; kids run around, playing in the dirt, on the soccer field, climbing on trees, throwing rocks to make mangos fall, jumping into my arms whenever the opportunity arises, and generally just being energetic, lively, friendly kids. And the fathers are a bit more removed - they work and then hang out in the pool halls and drink beer and occasionally cause trouble, none that I've seen, only heard of happening at late hours in the night. The pool halls are a symbol of Latin American machísmo, or male dominance, indicating that men here can do as they like with little consequence. It is rare to find a father who is around the home or around their kids for many hours in the day. Yet the people here are muy amable - or very friendly - and they are very charming as well. With all the interviews we've done - about 17 right now and counting - I want to just stay with people and talk later, about their lives here and what challenges they face, and also what brings them joy in life. Each time we meet someone new, I feel more connected to this place and I've already begun linking faces to the word "Porvenir."
Porvenir is a town full of all sorts of people - mostly friendly, some shy, everyone always waving and saying "buenos" (short for Buenos Días or good day in English) or "Adios" (goodbye) or "Hola" (hello) or "¿Cómo está?" (how are you?) or even "hello" or "goodbye." It's interesting that almost as much as I want to speak Spanish with people here and continue to improve my fluency, people here who know English are eager to speak English with us. We were talking with one of our friends here - Dani (or Oscar - he kinda goes by either name) - who was helping us scrape paint off the health clinic walls in preparation for a new painting this weekend. Akul was talking to Dani in broken Spanish and Dani to Akul in broken English, yet somehow they surpassed that language barrier and found a way to connect through a shared passion for soccer. They have loyalties to different teams and were each boasting that their team was better. It was quite amusing to watch, and on a deeper level quite amazing really that something like soccer could transcend the vast gulfs of cultural and lingual barriers to speak a common language of "sports." Dani has since played basketball with us for the past few nights, and he will even play a game of monopoly with us tonight after we briefly interview him. That is one of the greatest things about this project, truly, the people we have met. Everyone is friendly and loves talking with us - all of us - whether we speak just a little Spanish or are fluent like Michelle. It has been eye-opening to learn of a whole different world of sorts - really a whole different way of living. Around here, when people set times for meetings people are generally late if they show up at all. The Honduran life isn't centered around deadlines and stringent meetings and formality but rather wandering and free-flowing time and family duties and generally just a much more fluid work ethic. It was a bit shocking to me at first, and it has definitely tempered my high standards for punctuality and deadlines. We are right on target with our project and will probably surpass our research goals - but not because we were rigid about setting appointments with people, but actually quite the opposite. Most of our interviews have taken place from wandering around town and politely asking people if we can interview them about health. These have led to meeting some wonderful people, and to chatting after the interview for a while, and generally making new friends all around the neighborhood. I truly love the people here, and I'm so sad that we'll be leaving so soon. The fluid time has made it seem like we've been here for much longer than just 3 weeks, and also that we have much more time than just a week to learn about people's lives here. But, time goes on, relentlessly, unaffected by our work here. Everyone has been very hospitable and they all have expressed their happiness with us coming to work here. It is so rewarding to talk to people individually about all the problems that I had in the past only imagined affected people here. Although it's disquieting to realize that in many cases I was spot-on accurate for the issues that affect people - parasites, malnutrition, lice, and diabetes, it's good to connect with people and almost more touching to realize that these diseases affect people on a daily basis and impact their daily lives, albeit somewhat tragic. We have also learned of other illnesses that impact people here - cervical cancer, alcoholism, drug use, malaria, dengue fever, high blood pressure, arthritis, poor dentition, the flu, colds, and general aches and pains. It is amazing to me that somehow in the face of limited medical care, poverty (and thus an inability to foot medical bills or pay for medicines), and high unemployment rates, people here can accept the burden of living with parasites and other illnesses and continue on with their daily lives, friendly as ever. People here do not seem embittered by the monumental challenges they face. However, I've gotten a sense that it may be enough to shoulder the burden and live with the challenges rather than to be motivated to do something about the problems and actively combat them. People seem okay with passively dealing with individual concerns but it is extremely challenging to motivate people on a large scale to do projects that could improve their self-sufficiency. In one sense, I can understand because it seems that somehow as humans we learn to deal with the unique challenges - be they medical or something altogether different - we all face, but it is harder to empathize with the montón (mountain) of other challenges that we collectively face. We can fend for ourselves, and maybe our families if we overextend a little bit, just enough to get by - but it is another issue altogether to organize and motivate people to work together to resolve a common problem. Resources here are limited and many people live on a day-to-day basis, doing chores and cooking food and generally not planning much in advance because it is enough just to do and not to get caught up in something that may not even come through. As Americans, we have the convenience to have so many things provided for us - tons of food, conveniently pre-prepared, the internet at our fingertips, TV, phone, car, gas, etc. - that we are afforded time to plan ahead and keep a minute-to-minute schedule and go wherever we need to be in an instant. The pace here is much slower. People walk places, or if they want to go to Ceiba - a major city close to town here - then they can take a local bus which comes every hour. To find out news, they can talk to their neighbors or the local supermarket owner who has a TV to find out what is going on in the world. At a time like this when Honduras is in the news a lot, a suspect people do this a lot and talk a lot about Honduran politics. However, since life is a lot slower here, I feel as if in general people aren't too concerned with what is going on in other countries or in the world but are more preoccupied with taking care of kids and cooking and working and doing the day-to-day chores that keep life on track, albeit at a slower pace than I or any American I know would expect for our own lives.
In a way it is a very valuable lesson to know that life can continue and our project can continue and we can still meet all our goals and deadlines without really mapping it out minute by minute but just letting it happen naturally. As a generally optimistic person, I'm inclined to think that life always turns out for the better, no matter what happens, and so I think that things tend to fall into place at the right time. This is not to say that bad things don't happen or that sometimes everything seems very messed up and broken, but I think that eventually what needs to happen will, and if that means resolution, it will happen, and if it means perpetual brokenness - well I don't think that can exist. There must be some hope. And for our project - I think that the hope resides in the people here, that they can be so friendly and willing to talk to us and that despite the monumental obstacles they face - medical and otherwise - I think that by caring for themselves and their family maybe they can make things a little better. Bit by bit they can build up the economy and if altruists are willing to help, they will send doctors and money to build up the clinics here. It will take time and patience and money - lots of it - but I have faith in the people here and their ability to love and be loved. As it is, that is what drives life and what ultimately drives me to be here and experience life here firsthand and become even more inspired to do the best I can to help the people here and to love and be loved by all those whom enter my life. I'll have more philosophical ponderings later on... but for now it's time for that Monopoly game with Dani.
Hasta más tarde, mis amigos,
Anna