So we have made it to the conference and as I write this I am sitting through a series of boring lectures where staff members from DC keep telling us how they can relate to us (because they worked in Africa in the 80s) and making us talk about our feelings and fill out paperwork. Plus we are on lockdown and not allowed to leave the hotel since we are in the big bad city. It would be awful, but we are in a very swanky hotel with all our friends here and we have a pool and a gym, and hot showers (!) at our disposal. So I can’t complain too much. We are all scheduled to fly out on Thursday the 16th, however a lot of volunteers won’t make it to their destinations in the same day so some will be staying the night in Miami.
I’ll try to get you up to date with what has happened since I left my site…
Leaving was really hard. There are not words to describe the range of emotions that one goes through when they are essentially losing their job, moving to a different country and saying goodbye to everyone they know, all at the same time.
On Saturday we had our Clausura for my Yo Merezco group and I was very pleased with how it went. Twelve of the 15 girls were able to show up on short notice and for the girls that couldn’t be there, a family member or friend was there in their place. Each girl got a diploma and a bag of goodies which was really just tons of girlie stuff from my house that I was trying to get rid of. But they loved them none the less. Then we had cake that was paid for by the municipality and cookies that were made by me. Despite the fact that it started an hour and a half late, it went really well. Big thanks to my sitemate Leticia who took all the pictures for me during the ceremony.
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I think the thing that really made me cry was having to take Bernice to her new home. It broke my heart, but Peace Corps said we absolutely could not bring animals with us to the conference or on the plane. (When volunteers leaves their service normally, there are several avenues that allow them to take pets of all kinds home. Not so with us). Several of my friends were able to smuggle their dogs out when family came to visit. But lots of us had to leave pets behind because of the short notice and PC rules for the emergency situation.
I spoke with several different families who talked to me about wanting a rabbit. And then I selected one that had rabbits before, and seemed like really great people. I don’t want to talk about it too much because it genuinely makes me want to cry all over again. They are nice family and they promised to take pictures of her and email me when they complete this big screened-in enclosure they are working on for her.
I gave away all of my furniture, all my work materials, I emptied everything from my house. Packing was stressful because Peace Corps gave us a luggage limit which was, of course, a fraction of what I would have preferred.
The proud new owner of all my stuff - Jose, former Peace Corps volunteer from 1965 back to live in Taulabe
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Oh and there was this fun little crisis the morning before I was supposed to leave town. As I was packing I discovered that Bernice had chewed the zipper completely off my huge black suitcase which rendered it useless. Panic would not be a strong enough word for what I felt. I went out at 8 am to go door-to-door to every single furniture/appliances store in town, (all four of them) looking for some kind of container to hold my stuff (cardboard box anyone??). As I was explaining the situation to one very uninterested sales lady, another shopkeeper overheard and told me that Don Jorge had one in his back room that he was willing to sell me. Don Jorge wanted 800 lempira, which I totally had but wasn’t willing to spend so we played that fun haggling game until I got my savior suitcase for 500. Two days later when I was hauling the brand new luggage full of my stuff up the stairs of the hotel lobby in Teguz, the handle snapped clean off and nearly rolled down the stairs onto my friend. Get what you pay for I guess…
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On Wednesday I had an impromptu despidida (going away party) with the staff at the health center in Jardines. One of the nurses made me a cake, and the Doctor made everyone go around the room and say something about me. Which was kind of awkward because there were some new nurses there that had never met me but they came up with something nice to say anyway… I surprised myself when it was my turn to speak. I didn’t think I would get choked up but I did. It hurt to tell them that I wanted so badly to stay and work but my organization didn’t think it was safe for me to be there anymore. It doesn’t seem fair that, since I am an American, I just get picked up and removed from a situation and deposited back in my little suburb, while my friends and counterparts have to stay behind in Honduras in a country that is dangerous and corrupt and barely functioning.
With my favorite CdS staff members. The man in the middle is Dr. Garcia, my main counterpart and co-worker
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It’s simply not fair. I want to stay here and see things through till the end. I still just feel so unprepared to leave, and what’s more, I am completely unprepared to re-enter society in America. Go ahead and laugh, but I really really don’t want a grown-up job. I don’t want to start paying bills and having responsibilities and I definitely don’t want any part in this ridiculous iPhone revolution where everyone’s email follows them everywhere. And even though I am already craving good Thai food and hot showers, somehow it doesn’t feel like it’s worth giving up all this…
Honduras: I take back all the mean things I ever said about you. Well maybe not ALL the mean things. But most of them. This has been the most incredible adventure of my life and I relish every lesson learned here and every friend I made. I can only hope that I’ve done more good than damage*. I leave no regrets. I will always cherish the families that have taken me in and treated me like one of their own. I don’t know when it will happen but I pledge to come back and visit some day and hopefully return some favors.
As I’m winding down here, I’d like to say a huge and thoroughly insufficient GRACIAS to all the people who have supported me throughout this journey. I am so lucky to have a network of people cheering for me and supporting me and being sympathetic when I complain about the inane trivialities. And lets not forget my two biggest supporters: my parents. I could not have made it without their unwavering support and encouragement, of both the emotional and financial kind. I feel at this point I have put them through quite a lot. For every sickness, accident, disappointment and personal crisis of mine, they have felt the pain just as acutely as if they were fighting a bout of food poisoning themselves. Every single time I called them up in tears bemoaning whatever was the crisis de jour, they would, without fail, try and help me in whatever way they could. And when they couldn’t, they reminded me that I am strong and capable and able to handle anything that gets thrown at me. If nothing else, that’s one of the grandest lessons I have learned while being here**.
Also, thanks to all my loyal blog readers. I’ve enjoyed keeping this record of my adventures and all the faithful readers and commenters have really made it worthwhile (over 27,500 hits in two years. Boo ya!). I plan to continue to write, as long as I still have thoughts that entertain me. And no promises yet but I am planning a trip in the near future to another Spanish-speaking country which will prove to be some interesting fodder for new blog topics. So keep checking back.
I just heard a presenter mention something about passing out money. So I think I should sign off here.
Que le vaya bien…
-Sarita
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*Among other things, teaching Honduras to play flip-cup qualifies as damage
** That, and avoid drinks with ice cubes. And don’t trust directions from Taxi drivers. And no matter how much you study a language there will always be lots more that you will never understand. And it’s best to just accept that early on.
Amapala is the only island belonging to Honduras on the south coast, the Gulf of Fonseca, and it is surprisingly small. One of the lancha captains told us it was 18 kilometers wide and there are only about 2,500* permanent residents, including one of our own H16 Peace Corps Volunteers. There are several little islands scattered in the area but the others belong to either El Salvador or Nicaragua. That said, from just about any vantage point on the island you can very clearly see coasts of the other two countries near by.
