hn31.

alright, so i thought it would be worthwhile to write a new one for this, as my voyage today was quite the interesting one. let's call it, "a day in jalons". "a journey of a rusingo across the honduran countryside". i like that, maybe i'll write a book about all of the jalons that i have experienced. anyway, i went today to santa rosa to get my mail, and found myself looking at an empty apartado postal, with no package to take home. i decided at that minute that i would be returning home early, hopefully by lunch. however, after standing for about 40 minutes on the corner awaiting a pickup, it dawned on me that i might not be getting anywhere anytime soon. suddenly, a construction truck pulls up, and the offer to take me almost to cucuyagua, a midpoint between capucas and santa rosa. well, i happily jump in, and we speed off. soon he buys me some pineapple on the side of the road, and it seems to me like my luck has changed. when he drops me off he reminds me that theres still a distance left before cucuyagua, but i wave good bye and start trecking down the highway. i soon see a bunch of young men excavating something by the side of the road, while across the autopista, a small man/child sits in a wheelchair with a bag on a stick. i figure, well this should be interesting, and i decide to say whats up and hang out with them for a minute while i wait for a ride. well, turns out the people are working to build a house for the wheelchair guy, who's job (self-employed) is to sit by the side of the road and attract jalons for passers-by. he then takes a tip, and apparently has enough to build himself a house at the spot the jalons are best. i offer them some piña and we chat about life, work, living in the states, and all sorts of topics. no jalons stop, and i end up taking a bus, of course forgetting to give a tip to the wheelchair guy. i still feel remorse. anyway, i made it to cucuyagua, then caught a ride in a truck headed for corquin. talking to the guys, it turned out that they made the same journey from san pedro sula to corquin every day, bringing crap there, and taking some back. seemed like an awesome job, especially since there were three of them, doing mostly nothing. after they dropped me off, i ended up riding the rest of the way with a friend from the community, and we talked about entering him in the process of certification, what he would need to do, and by when. after lunch, i hopped on the horse and finally made it here, to write this, for you guys. now that i finish, it doesnt seem like such a great story. but at the time, it was pretty awesome. if it makes you feel any better, while getting my horse out of its field, a cow got out, and i had to chase it across a pasture, which resulted in me falling ankle deep in a oxidization lagoon for coffee, and now i smell like shit. so laugh about that.

hn30.

so new pictures are up. check it out at the picasa site, by clicking to the right of this post.

alright, and now to the blog post. this entry will probably be updated and changed in a few days, but i thought i would write for now, and see where it takes me. the mood isn't exactly the best, as its raining and my cooperative is having issues, but you know, you do what you can and then sit back when there's nothing you can do.

anyway, the past week or so has been somewhat crazy. i spent 4 days mapping farms, and it took longer than expected, as always. right now, i am awaiting better weather conditions to continue working, but with the rains its hard to get reception, much less precision. and what good does it do me if every point has an error of 20 meters. however, the process is very interesting, and its giving me an opportunity to learn quite a bit about simple gis, which i think will come in handy in the future.

the horse is good, and riding him is becoming less and less of a chore every day. yesterday he made it all the way to the outskirts of town, with only a little arguing, and i think by the end of the week he will follow where he is told, and without question. the time is approaching to take him into corquin and get him fitted with a new gamaron, but that might have to wait til the end of january.

this weekend was quite difficult for me for a lot of reasons, and in some way discouraging, but one needs to be able to survive much in order to make it through two years of peace corps. one of my best friends from honduras, a fellow pam volunteer, left service this saturday, and his farewell get together was held in the capital. i went, and not only was the 10 hour bus ride tough, but seeing him go was even harder. its strange how attached people can get in just 3 months, but losing someone who provides support and advice at a time when its needed, is difficult. at least, he's left for better things, and hopefully he'll be happy in Colombia. as for us, the remaining 40 something h15ers, we're staying for now, although it will be interesting to see how many remain after christmas. its usually a tough time for all, especially those that go home and then have to return to their campo lives. and it's not that people can't handle the transition, its that the trip home allows for some reflection and comparison, and usually puts the final nail in the coffin of "early termination".

right now, everyone is anxiously awaiting new years, where many of us are going to Tela, on the north coast, to get away from our sites and get a little vacation. should be a blast. now i just gotta find someone to take care of the baby.

hn29.

before the post: go to mycapucascoffee.com It's the new page of my cooperative that I participated in the creation of. More like facilitated it. Check it out. If you would be so kind, link to it in your site. That would be the kindest. Love you guys.

and now to the entry that i wrote last night.

I think its about time to write an entry that doesn't revolve around my horse. Otherwise, you guys might start to think that I do nothing but work with this horse of mine, and the truth is, there's actually work happening here. So first and foremost, coffee season is up and running. Although the quantity of coffee picked is somewhat small right now, but it's coming in, and for me it seems like a lot. Every day, visiting coffee pickers go out at 7 and start cortando, or cutting coffee (which in reality is more like a pulling off the branch motion but whatever), and by 3 pm each producer is delivered a quantity that depends on the number of pickers. this coffee is measured, by volume, and paid for. the going rate is 20-30 L per bucket of 2.5 gallons. That comes out to about a dollar fifty per bucket. pretty cheap labor if you ask me, but a family of four can cut up to 25 buckets in one day, which comes out to about 500 L, and that's more than minimum wage.

this coffee is then processed in one of two ways. there's lavado and melado. lavado is a conventional processing type, where the coffee is de-pulped, then washed to get rid of the miel (sugar based coating) that surrounds the pergamino (bean with shell), and finally dumped onto a patio where it dries with the sun and heat of the cement. this coffee is then sold as pergamino humedo, or dried in huge industrial driers (or even in some very environmentally friendly cases using solar driers), and then sold as pergamino seco. one could even go as far as one step further, take the shell off the bean, and sell it as cafe oro, but usually that's done by the roaster or importer. some farmers will also select the coffee prior to sale, removing bad beans and over dried beans, improving the taza, or flavor bouquet (whatever you call it). this is done by hand and is actually quite a relaxing experience.

melado is an awesome process which i may have already described in the past. the pulp is left on the coffee and it is thrown onto the same patio to dry in the sun. the red pulp soon turns black, and hard, and removed through a mechanical process. the coffee is then dried further, and the taza comes out bolder, sweeter, and overall better in my opinion.

anyway, moving on, coffee season involves a whole lot of manual labor. coffee is moved around in 100-200 pound sacks, which need to be moved, dumped, filled, thrown, and manipulated in millions of different ways. it leaves one sore day after day, but i think ill look like szchwarznegger within a few months. probably not, but one can dream. there's also rediculous hours, since coffee needs to be depulped the same day, washed the same day, and dumped onto the patio the same day. this means that people work well after nightfall, some til 9 or 10 pm, with a wake up call at 7 to continue with the labor. its arduous, a pain in the ass, but it's apparently worth it. and you guys better be damn thankful that so much labor goes into your specialty import organic coffees that you spend 14 dollars a pound on. just so everyone knows, the farmer almost never gets more than 2 dollars for the same pound. and sure there are costs involved in importation and processing, but the same green mountain coffee, or whatever else it is that you guys buy in whole foods or trader joes, is making a pretty penny.

outside of coffee, my life right now revolves around worms and GIS. The worm project now has two new project managers, youngins from my community. although they lack a formal education, they are both very intelligent and excited about the project. hopefully it doesnt fail and discourage them for life. we have begun project planning, have done some analysis of its faults and benefits. basically we are starting from the beggining together, which is awesome as it gives the kids a sense of involvement more than anything.

the gis is another thing where i wish i could involve others, but since everyone is so metido in coffee, its hard to find anyone available who wants to trudge through farms with me. but, regardless, its an awesome experience. not only am i learning an assload about ArcGis and GPS stuff, but I am also getting to personally know the farms of the people who live in my community. which means getting to know them as well, since they act as my guides. i spent about an hour and a half walking the farm of my host dad yesterday, and i ended up learning things about him that i probably would never have found out any other way. later today i will be visiting the farm of a carpinter, and by next week i should have about 10 farms done. i love my job.

alright, well that's about it for now. i wish you guys would ask me things to write about, but since none of you do, i will keep going as i have been for about 5 months now. its amazing i'm still writing. thanks to all of you who read.

hn28.

so i rode my horse. for the first and second time these past two days. it was amazing. although now i may be realizing that i made a mistake, and possibly a serious one. the point is, that a horse needs to be trained extensively on the ground prior to riding, which i kind of skipped. and riding him wasn't so bad, but it required a lot of force, and that is something that shouldn't be used. well, we'll see what happens today. the only problem is that i can't train the horse well from the ground because he has learned very well to follow me, and when i try to drive him from behind he just turns around. i dunno. maybe i need to take it slow and see if i can retrain that behavior. then again, i think its a good thing that he follows me. i will keep you guys updated as to the status of this experience. but before i go, i should share the story of the first mount, which was pretty spectacular.

so most horses, when you put a saddle on them for the first time, throw the saddle off. they kick, rise up, and lose it. that's important to know before you hear this story. so two days ago i went to take my horse out and decided that i would saddle it. while i was pondering the question, a few people who are working for my uncle cutting coffee showed up to watch. i told them i would be putting the saddle on the horse, so they got all excited and called a few more. by the time i got to where i keep the saddle, i had an audience of about twenty people. i brought the saddle down, calmed ruso a bit, and then began the slow process of placing the saddle, the tail piece, and the ties on the bottom. not even a flinch. he didn't move, nor kick, nor anything. so i watched him for a bit like this, walked him around, and then suddenly someone says : "mount him!". and i think to myself, why not. so i have my friend alex hold the horse, and with my stomach, i hop on the saddle. nothing. so i swing my feet into the stirrups. still nothing. i get alex to walk in front of the horse, and he follows. it was amazing. no negative reaction whatsoever. so then yesterday i thought, why not do it again, but this time with the bosal, which is used to drive the horse in one direction or another. mounting was a little harder, because for some reason the first time i placed the saddle on him he threw it off, but with the second time there was no problem. i mounted him again, and tried the bosal. he didn't seem to get it. so then i had my friend pancho walk in front while i tapped the horses ass with the lasso. he started walking, then running, then all of a sudden i was way ahead of pancho with the horse trotting below me. it was amazing. we ended up riding from pancho's house all the way down to the cooperative. just me and the horse. it was hard, and he didn't seem to respond too well to the bosal commands, which i think is my fault due to the lack of ground training. but maybe, i can do it mounted. we'll see. anyway, that's the story. hope you guys like it.

check out pics too. one of my horse, still waiting for my friend to upload the rest. she got some good ones so i dont want to waste your time until they're up.

hn27.

i made my first girevous error in horse training that may cost me about a week of trying to fix it. so a couple days ago I went to a talabateria, or leather shop (where the guy who owns it actually makes all the leather stuff), and bought a saddle and other horse accessories. everything came out to about 7000 lempiras, which brings my horse value up to 15000, or 750 dollars. thank you horse for making me broke. anyway, i hauled all this stuff home and yesterday decided that it was time to begin saddle training. i went into the little grassy area where i keep Ruso, and i slowly placed the mantillon (or little rug that goes under the saddle) on his back. nothing. he didn't move, nor kick, nor throw it off. so i, in my stupidity, decided that we could just walk around with it for a while and he would be just fine. we left the pasture, and started walking down a dirt road towards the soccer field where i do the training. about half way there, the mantillon slipped off of his back, and that is where all of the fun started. as the mantillon hit the ground, the horse reared, and i, feeling the pull of the rope, turned around to find my horse towering above me with its two front feet high in the air. luckily, i survived the incident, but the horse is now scarred for some time. it is impossible to approach him with the thing, as he has now aquired a deep seeded fear of the yellow foam and leather patch of rug. at any approach, he kicks, jumps, and does everything possible to avoid contact. we spent about an hour with me sitting by it, and pulling him to it to smell it, but once 15 seconds passed, he would lose it again. i even tried sitting on it and having him come closer, but as he noticed the yellow foam bellow my ass, he would kick again. i ended up using the time to train him in other things, and i think he now understands the stay command. at least a little. i also taught him to go backwards when i touch his chest, which i will use later to reinforce other moves. all in all training is going well except for this rug setback. i did try something else though, which seemed to work temporarily. i closed his eyes and had someone place the rug on his back, and with that he seemed fine, but as soon as it was taken off, he went nuts. I decided I would leave the rug in his little pasture with him, so maybe just by looking at it all day he'll get used to it. hopefully. if not, i may draw on it in permanent marker and see if the change in color scheme will throw him off. i'll keep you guys updated.

in other news, i found local young adults (18-20 so they're technically teens to young adualts, whatever) to run my worm project with me, and then, without me. basically, i will train them to manage and monitor the project, and then in a few months, leave it completely in their hands. whats awesome is that they seem genuinely excited about the concept, and since they're gonna get paid at one point, no one seems to worry. plus, since they're used to getting paid 6 months after doing the work (which is how honduras pays their state employees), they don't seem to mind that they will be working for free for the first two months.

hn26.

so it's about time i wrote again. its been about a week since the last entry and much has happened, at east in my eyes. first and foremost im obsessed with my horse. and athough i don't spend enough time with him, its hard not to think about him all day. its as if i really had a kid, and not a horse. regardless, every day i awake at 5 30, cut him some zacate, spend about an hour petting, brushing, and talking, and then in the afternoon we walk, do a little training, and more zacateando. for now the training will revolve around stay, come, and circle-running commands, but slowly and surely progress is being made. i think within a month he'll be quite manageable. i will be trying to mount for the first time in about 2 weeks, so we'll see how that goes. if he throws me, well it will be a learning experience and we'll seguir adelante. until then, it's a relaxed regime, with more bonding than training. it's strange how much worry and love an animal like a horse can bring out in it's owner. what's even stranger is that none of the hondurans around me share the same sentiment. to them horses are just work animals, stupid and only good for hard labor. to me, he's a friend, a mode of transport, a pet, everything. i mean, i spend just as much time talking to him as i do to some hondurans. and i think its not just a cultural difference, but something to do with how campesinos view many of their animals. not even dogs are treated with cariño. they're here just to guard, and they get hissed and and shished at all day long. i don't even think they get fed. they more or less fend for themselves. and then hondurans wonder why their chicken eggs go missing. anyway, enough about that. let's talk about thanksgiving.

this past thursday i joined up with about 15 gringos, 4 hondurans, and a dutchman (i think), to celebrate the holy union of pilgrims and natives (ignoring the fact that the pilgrims went on to massacre the natives over the next century, and beyond). it was amazing. the meal we cooked was one of the most elaborate i have had ever, and just the fact that we were eating true american cuisine in honduras made it all the more delectable. all day long we spent preparing the two turkeys, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and all the standard trimmings. we ate from 6 til...well til we fell asleep. and in between we danced salsa, merengue, everything. for hours. it was so refreshing. the people were wonderful, sweet, and friendly. conversations lasted hours instead of minutes, like they do in the campo, and we actually talked about substantial things and not just the weather or honduran politics. in the morning we ate bannana bread with ice cream, sipped on hot coffee, and parted ways with hugs and promises of future fancy dinners.

but now, since the holiday is over, it's time to get back to work. the next few weeks will be filled with lots of mapping, lots of coffee pulp, and lots of time spent horse training. lets see how that goes.

oh and btw, in answer to mom's comment on the last one, the horse reshoeing experience was awesome. he didn't freak, didn't buck, didn't do anything. i petted him while he stood there with one leg in the air for about ten minutes. everyone thought it was incredible that an untrained horse could be so calm for so long while being shoed. we ended up doing it on a street corner in front of my house at dusk, and it worked out perfectly.

hn25.

i bought a horse on saturday. a 2 year old stallion, mixed gray and brown. it had never been ridden, never been trained, and never been lassoed. in fact, when i went to see it for the first time, you couldn't even come within 50 meters of it. well, now things are different. saturday the horse was taken to the home of a new friend of mine by the name of carlos. since carlos is a pro horse trainer, he told me he would take care of the horse for three days, break it a little, and have it ready for me to take home by tuesday.

the horse was taken there by truck, and when i came to see it i found it tied to a tree. with our approach the horse panicked, rose up on two feet, and lost it. but carlos took it by the lasso, and dragged it out onto the street. with every pull, the horse pulled back, and it looked like it would be a herculean task to train the animal. i then thought, why not give it a try. why not approach the animal with a little love instead of brute force. so i took the lasso from carlos, who hesitantly gave it up probably due to the fear he had for my life, and pulled. the horse did the same movements, kicked, and tried to break free. so i did something stupid, came up closer, and pulled again. this time he stood his ground. i then came even closer, and pulled. now he took a step. finally, i put my face to his, and looked at his eyes. not a move from him. so i stood there for some time, holding the horse, talking to him, and he relaxed. i then brought him back to his tree, tied him up and left for the day. that night, carlos spent some time working with the beast, and by the next morning ruso was walking around comfortably with me.

we spent the day walking the road around carlos' house, taking pictures, and doing a little training drills. it was exhilarating. not only because i was finally in posession of a horse, but because he responded to me. even more so than to the pro trainer carlos. and not because i was doing something better, or worse, but because i showed the animal love, by way of touching him and talking to him. something that is not part of the training process here. every honduran will tell you that the only way to train an animal is with a stick, but i can tell you this, that so far, a hug goes a hell of a lot farther.

tuesday was the hardest day by far. at around 6 in the morning i arrived at carlos' house, and spent about an hour and a half walking again. this period will last for about a week, of pure walking around, a little running around in circles, just to get the horse used to obeying. at 7 30, the owner came with a brand, his brand, a big capital J (which i kind of like cuz it could be interpreted as Jew), and we branded the horse. this process was necessary for legal reasons due to registration procedures. regardess, the horse barely moved, and now he's marked and I've got the paperwork.

we then walked the horse to the blacksmith's where he was shoed. it was an incredible experience. if not for the orange soda i would have thought we were back in the middle ages. all the tools he uses are hand made, the oven is hand built, and he made the horseshoes right in front of me. and although one broke today due to a fracture, the rest were magnificent. the actual practice of shoeing the horse was something else. in fact, it was close to dangerous. i held the horse's lasso while two men (the blacksmith and his son) tried to put the horseshoes on. by the time the job was done, the horse was bleeding due to freaking out and hitting itself, and i had been kicked three times and bitten once. but at least he was shoed and ready to go.

three hours later, i walked the horse onto the truck that took it to my village. it quite an experience riding in the back with it, mostly because it stepped on me a couple of times, but we finally arrived around 5 to my home town, and soon the horse was in its little closed field, where it was munching happily on some grass and zacate ( a tall sedge grass thing, in english san augustin grass).

the bad news came this morning when i found that one of it's shoes had broken in half due to the fracture i mentioned earlier, and now i have to spend part of my day going back to the guys house and getting another shoe and then shoeing the horse again. regardless, at least he's home, safe, and ready for training. and although everyone here thinks im crazy to mess with a horse and its entrenamiento, carlos has complete faith in my abilities, so im not worried. so far the horse seems to like me, so i think we're off to a good start. in two weeks i should be riding it. maybe in three. i will go through the process of training in future blog entries, especially since i will be able to say what works and what doesn't. until then, wish me luck.

hn24.

I realized a terrible truth today. But before i get to the point, one would need to be briefed about the thought process, where it started, how the conclusions came. And to be honest, maybe i can even get you to realize the truth before I even say it, and then you can nod your head, feel a sense of accomplishment, and actually get something out of this. because you come here once or twice a week, read entries about my life, but probably don't ever feel like you really did anything. or learned anything. or laughed. well today, we shall discover together something deep and frightful. kind of.

anyway, lets get to it. ever since coming to honduras and living in the campo ihave come to notice that almost everyone looks older than they actually are. 16 year olds look like they're 18 or 20, 25 year olds look like they're 30, and the gap keeps growing with every age category after that. once in a while you run into a honduran who looks their age, but overall, this is the trend. people get wrinkles early, grow mustaches early (although i think no matter what age i reach, i will never be able to grow a mustache). they marry and have 6 kids, all before i could even think about settling down. they grow internally and externally at a more rapid rate. and now the question comes, but why? what factors affect aging in such a way that a whole population might be growing older in a different way than another? in this case, i think the list goes on. but i wanted to explore a few regardless.

hondurans age externally due to their environment. living and working. they live in a country where the sun is harsh, for a large part of the year. harsh, like white people can't hang out outside. ever. at least not for more than an hour without increasing their chances of skin cancer by 10% every time. and the people of this continent do it every day, with only a hat and long sleeves to protect them. and so, skin being the way it is, changes every year into something more tough and weathered, as a means of protecting the wearer.

but this takes its toll in appearance, or at least beat-upedness. people start looking older at a younger age even though they live the same or longer than we do. they work in the fields, or other types of manual labor, from before they can read. kids start cutting coffee with their families at the age of 3. the boys work with their dads building or farming, and the girls in the kitchens or the little stores. all this work, also is reflected in their looks.
but what's even more interesting is that hondurans move through life at a different pace, in a way i could never have imagined. people have children starting at 16, and usually by the age of 26, three little cipotes (kids) are seen running about the salon (living room). little girls watching Nickelodeon, little boys blowing up fireworks, and the dads working 7-5 every day including saturday to feed them. the moms at the same time spend all day in front of the stove (or fogon, a woodburning cooking thing), or washing clothes (by hand), cleaning, doing everything at home with no technological assistance. this then leads to the parents aging quicker (for need to provide for 5) and the cycle begins again. its almost as if their social class, standard of living, and national situation (yes politics affect this as well due to the corruption that keeps these people in the same place year after year) are working against them every day. and the funny thing is that although maturity wise, and externally, hondurans age fasted, in terms of energy, capability, and strength, age slower. i know old honduran guys, 60 years old, who spend the day in the field chapeando with a machete, carrying 100 pound bags of fertilizer, and doing everything that an average 35 year old american could not even dream of doing.

well, that's about it. something to think about. maybe that's why peace corps are

here, help people with their skin and babies.

hn23.

i'm an asshole who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut. why is it that i can never follow advice that i very well know to be true. words-silver, silence-gold. thanks grandpa. now if only i knew how to act on what i know, instead of doing the opposite. fuck. now lets just hope my cooperative doesn't lose their certification on my behalf. if so, im going home.

hn22.

so it's been some time again since i've written, and for the time being there is a lack of news. i guess what i can write about are my thoughts recently, what i'm planning, what i want. i've been thinking a lot about this horse thing, and although many have their doubts, i feel as though i am ready for the whole experience. the training, the feeding, the riding, and the finale, the trip to panama or wherever it is that i chose to ride it to. I have checked the distance, and its about 1600 km measured by finger on google maps. if anyone can get me a specific distance, between capucas and the panama canal, i'm all yours. at 50 k a day, that should take about 32 days of straight riding. or 2 months with breaks. sounds pretty good to me. and i get to see nicaragua, costa rica, y panama. it should be amazing, and i think that the experience will be worth any hassle, trouble, or pain that i may endure in the process. plus, the solitude during the day, and meeting different people and families at night, should provide for quite a lot of variety and a dynamic which can not be experienced in any other way. and i really think i can do it. i rode yesterday again for 30 k, and it was wonderful. relaxed. and my ass doesnt hurt. and the horse wasn't even sweating. now all that's left is careful, careful planning. i think what would be a good idea would be to stop at villages where there are pc volunteers, maybe stay with them, hear their stories. compile them even. regardless, the seed has been planted, the bush has grown, and now the roots are so deeply buried, that i think it will take some work to convince me otherwise. on a different note, i think i am slowly getting accustomed to the whole loneliness business. not that i feel it any less, but it seems as though i am getting somewhat more numb to the whole thing. but i still miss people, things, food, places, from what i knew and loved in the states. but now i am growing to love what i have here, how i live, what i eat, who i know. and it seems as though a famous quote, which i remember from a stupid movie called JOE DIRT, applies more today than ever: "home is where you make it". bam, meaning of life, learned.

hn21.

this is more a post for my fellow volunteers who may or may not be experiencing the same thing, a means for them to weigh in on this topic if they wish. however, you may get something out of this as well as someone back home, but regardless, you have been prepared in advance.

what is the deal here with lack of perfectionism. now i know i can be anal sometimes, in fact i have been quite obsessive compulsive about certain things in work or school environments, but i have never experienced such a lack of desire for things to be of quality. its not even that a majority of people feel this way here, it seems like its everyone. nothing, no object or effort or project needs to have perfection anywhere. its feels as though everyone in this country went through school and never learned to color within the lines. or good penmanship. or drawing straight lines. i have seen so many things done 90-95%, with no effort to reach completion. if something is built, it may be built well, painted, and polished, but the garbage and refuse from construction is left lying around the site with no regard or worry. if something is painted, and it may be painted professionally with not a single blemish, you can count on the floor and the walls to be painted as well. no plastic or newspaper even considered to protect the surroundings.

maybe its a developing world type of thing. maybe with all the hunger and poverty, there's little room to fret about perfection. but i don't get it. its as if personal pride in one's own work doesn't exist. or standards are different. or people just don't give a shit all around. but it's hard for me, because i want things done well and done right, and instead i get things done alright and somewhat correctly, but in the end i get screwed with the damage control/clean-up/touch-up/whatever. ideas? should i just shut my mouth, suck it up, and forget my standards? maybe i should just lower my expectations and forget about it.

hn20.

something i wrote a couple of days ago. everything is really hectic now, so won't be posting much. coffee certification's a bitch.

well i've been through quite a number of experiences today and in the past week that are worth mentioning. ups, downs, in betweens, and all throughout a learning experience. first, when i wrote that last entry, i was slipping into a negative phase that lasted about three days. i got little down, got hit with a little depression, and struggled for a few days. the thing that saved me were the loving words from family, friends, and loved ones. so for that i thank you all. but it also made me realize how much i depend on others for my own sanity. i think its about time i stopped making hundreds of phone calls when things go downhill, and start looking within myself for the answers. because i know they're always there waiting, it just takes a little effort and suffering to crack that nut, and get at the good stuff. plus, although i feel very grateful for all the help, i think that something is skipped over when provided support by others, and some part of the learning process is never reached. its as if being handed the medal before running the last lap. that's the hardest part, and you just got the prize. not the same. anyway, i guess most importantly i'm over it and in high spirits, although i have had some shitty moments in the past few days.

first, lets talk about the good stuff. i'm currently writing a grant for this worm project thing im starting, and its going well. not nearly as done as i would like, but progress is good. i also got support from an NGO to cover the start up costs for the project, and all i have to do is give a little talk sometime in dec. they also suggested other sources of funding, so i may go looking there as well. tomorrow ill be going horse back riding again for long distance, so that should be awesome. thats the good stuff.

the bad stuff. my hard drive crashed, the portable one, so good bye movies, tv shows, and other awesome stuff. shame, but oh well, nothing to do. also, my camera is on the fritz, so there might not be many pictures starting sometime soon. we'll see.

on a completely different note, not related to anything previously written, i would like to describe an experience for all of you, which you can tag onto the good, the bad, or the in between. I went to an evangelical traditional honduran wedding reception today. i didn't get to go to the wedding, well, because i was asleep until 7 or so, and it started at 8 an hour away. but the reception, well that was something else. first of all, as you all know, they don't drink here, at least not openly, so there was no booze. there was food, and soda, and a whole lot of quiet hondurans. many sat outside, some inside, some by the bread oven, but no one really talked about anything, and the whole thing was somewhat surreal. then, everyone got together to go dancing at the grooms house. i thought, awesome, let's blow this Popsicle stand and get our groove (or grooves) on. although it took about an hour and a half for people to get organized, by the time we left in the back of a pick up truck, it was only 3 30 and we had plenty of time to party. i was all dressed up, clean pressed shirt, smelling nice, hair combed, ready to mingle and integrate to the max. within five minutes it starts raining, and by the time we arrive at the "party" i'm soaked. at which point, i find that not only is there no dancing, but there's more food. so we eat again, and I figure, hey lets boogie. but no. what resulted was more like an 8th grade formal, with the men at one side of the yard, talking about the lack of dancing, and the women in the kitchen and at the table, talking about how lame the men are (maybe, i wasnt actually there but that's what I would have talked about). i spent about two hours waiting with the guys, to see change, and when none came i decided it would be best to get another plate of food and relax. however once i finished i heard the sounds of booming ranchera and thought, now is the time, finally i get to shake my ass, and make a fool of myself. but alas, what was going on was more like a performance than a dance party. three pairs were dancing in the living room while about 50 people observed. and this is the point when it hit me, for every 1 girl participating or wanting to participate in dance, there were about 10 horny older honduran men (maybe not all of them were horny, but definitely the single ones and many of the married ones, which was about 80% total). at this point i chose to go home, and hopped a ride with my host fam, as they were bringing purchased sacks of coffee back to the cooperative. what i didn't realize is that the coffee would have to be loaded into the beneficio before we went home. thats about 20 two hundred pound sacks. with two people to carry them, and two to unload. and it was raining. not fun. but i did get to learn something interesting about coffee.

so one of the steps of processing coffee is washing it after its been de-pulped. the coffee bean retains a honey like coating on the surface which needs to be removed prior to drying and toasting. the way this is done is simple. coffee beans are placed in a serpentine bath like channel, which is about 100 feet long. give or take. water then gets pumped into the channel at the beginning, and as it washes over the coffee, the honey residue is removed. at the same time, bad quality coffee which is less dense, rises to the top, washes over the good quality coffee, and falls into a grated tub where the water goes into. this water is then processed in order to prevent the contamination of the water system with this honey stuff. but the most interesting part is what i found out is done with the shitty coffee that falls into this tub thing. it still gets sold, but to very specific buyers. producers of instant coffee, i.e. folgers, nescafe, etc. and to producers of mass marketed honduran coffee i.e. café indio and cafe oro. that means that the next time you find yourself drinking instant coffee, since i doubt you guys buy cheap honduran coffee in the states, know that you are drinking the rejected coffee from many different farms and types of producers. and also, apparently, during the grinding process, for cheap coffee that is, it gets mixed with other crap like seeds, avocado pits, and other fillers to supply some of the volume. enjoy, buen provecho.

hn19.

you know, loneliness is a strange thing. for some, it can be exhausting, a continuous source of pressure and dread, constantly nagging at the mind. it can be excruciating. for others, its a relief. an escape, a means to deal with the monotony of daily action. but what's weird, at least for me, is that it can be both at the same time. and I think that the mind is to blame, for during moments of solitude is when the mind is working to it's fullest, and while it's great to let it run free, it can also be dangerous. it brings up thoughts that were suppressed during time of work or activity, when the "now" was more important. but when you're alone, well all bets are off, and your mind just flies in whatever direction it wants. forget roads, trails, or highways. it goes, and theres nothing in your brain to stop it. and that's where it gets tricky. because for many, a vicious cycle starts, where the loneliness brings up thoughts of close ones, friends, family, and it makes the loneliness less bearable. then you think about it more, and that makes you think more about people, things you miss, foods you used to eat. and then, it doesn't stop, but you start having ideas, crazy ideas, about how to cope, and in the end you find yourself lying in your bed at night, unable to sleep, wondering how to the fuck you got into this situation in the first place. other days, its the opposite. you await the moment you can spend alone, reading or watching a show, even to write, so that you can process your day (hat's off to you peace corps for teaching me about processing), and maybe get something out of it. and it gives you time to think about loneliness in a different way. why is it that one feels lonely? what is it that one misses, and which then makes the loneliness feeling appear? is it physical, emotional, intellectual? does it depend on one's surroundings? what's going on back home? can someone feel lonely surrounded by people? even people they like? and the answers vary, they're different for every one of us. and what's more interesting, is that there are at least 50 people I know here in this country that are probably feeling the same way. or at least thinking about similar things, missing their families, or friends, or sushi. and in a way, that makes us so much less alone, because we are together in this struggle for our sanity. or sanities. so i guess in part, i write this to share with the rest of you PCVs here in honduras, and everywhere. if you feel like crap one day, remember that we all do sometimes, but that's life, and you get over it, and then, you make something useful out of your alone time and yourself.

hn18.

I think it's about time for a new post. First and foremost, my ass healed. Completely. Hopefully, this sunday when I do the ride, it will not be as difficult. I think some of my nerve endings back there died, so it should be an improvement. This past week was somewhat difficult. I spent the beggining part of it researching and writing a portion of a Small Project Assistance Grant, which I hope to submit this week. If it goes through, it should provide funding for the vermiculture project I hope to complete. I also started preparing the space that we have. Last friday I spent all day chapeando with a machete, clearing vegetation around the building and leading to it. I also began the tedious work of digging stairs into the hill, because otherwise the surface wasnt safe enough to walk on. That work was finished today, by me and my child laborers. Yeah thats right. I have a bunch of kids helping me with the project, and it seems that they are much more capable than I am at hard labor. Within a day, we finished the whole stairs, took out a wall in the building, and cleaned a third of it. The next two hours will serve for the rest of the cleanup. After that all that is left is a little cement work, and then the place is ready for my worms. Hopefully, the project wont fail, and all this work will actually go towards something. However the most important thing to happen to me this week was actually yesterday, when for the first time in my life I built my own furniture. And not from IKEA, with those little wooden knobs and pre placed screw holes. No, from scratch. Saturday I spent all day cutting the wood, planing it (i think thats the term), and bringing it to my house. Sunday, within a few hours, with the help of my uncle, we put together the bookshelf/closet/table combo that I had designed in my head. It came out awesome. And it's surprisingly stable, spacious, and even more useful than I thought. You can all check out pictures on picasa. anyway, otherwise no interesting stories. i guess my life is kind of lame right now, and the exciting things for me are probably not that interesting to you. but regardless, im gonna keep writing, and some of you may keep reading. probably just my mom, brother, dad, and a few of you other devoted visitors. its a shame that I can't write anything very deep just yet, but my experiences have so far been very simple. the reflection will come with time. anyway, hope all is well.

hn17.

my ass hurts. in fact, its not just my ass, but my whole body, back, thighs, knees. I feel like i spent all day doing squats and lifts and all sorts of exercises. no instead, i just rode 30 k on horseback. i didn't think that sitting on something as soft as a fuzzy horse could be so painful. but when the bastard starts trotting/galloping/whatever it is that you call it when they run, the spinal column of the horse smacks you right between the thighs, and after an hour and a half, you start to feel it. after three hours everything goes numb, until a little while later, you find yourself not being able to sit or stand or lie down. the worst part, is that I loved it, and I'm gonna do it again in two weeks. and maybe every two weeks after that. the experience was wonderful. not only did i get to experience where i live in a completely new manner, but I felt connected to the land. in a car, in the back of a pickup, even walking, the landscape seems foreign, unreachable. you feel as though you are moving through a hollywood backdrop, a world that has little to nothing to do with you. but mounted on a horse the size of a semi, it's different. the horse responds to the countours of the land, and you are forced to as well. luckily, on the return leg of the journey, muñeco, the horse, didn't have enough energy to run, so we took it slow, and the trip seemed completely different. it was almost as though i made a loop, rather than returning the same way i came. and although i couldn't sit last night to play uno, i could not be happier.

pictures are up.

hn16.

i walked almost ten kilometers today, in a lame attempt to hitchhike to my community from the nearby town. apparently people do not really drive around at 9 am on sunday here, they're all in church or on their way there, which means out of my community and not in. the walk started out easy, but as the incline increased, and i started climbing past 1200 meters, it got a little tough. im definitely out of shape, and am in desperate need of a daily workout. however, the walk did give me time to reflect, think, and ponder on how everything is going. i was thinking i may have jumped in too deep for my first two weeks as a volunteer, and maybe i should give myself some space from the work load. you know, ease myself in. and then i realized that i work best in such an environment, high activity, constant occupiededness (having trouble with synonyms lately) , and stress. i like it. and i like that i may have three projects happening at the same time within the first two months of service. i just have to make sure that they don't fail. and i guess that's my greatest fear. that no matter how little or how much i do, that wont end up mattering because the projects will not succeed. but i can't live like that, so for now, ill just keep on truckin, or whatever it is that i do.

hn15.

i watched a one armed man carry 50 kg sacks of cement today. i did too, but for me it was a struggle, and for him, it seemed just like any other task. he did it with a smile, and even cracked a joke about his disability. i couldn't believe it. you know, farmers here are tough, and not just ford tough, more like sherman tank tough. they work from 7 am to five, with a small lunch break, with little help from contracted workers. there are some, that will chop a whole field in one day, employing only a machete. i don't know if any of you have experience with this, but its not a walk in the park by a long shot. i've done it, and there is little fun to be had. in fact, if you look back about ten entries, you can find my complaints about the process. on a different note, i came to a realization today, that has been a long time in the making. hondurans are an exteremely diverse people, and not just culturally, but in their physical appearance. yeah, skin color varies significantly from a gringo white, to a dark shade of brown, with a small population of garifuna, black hondurans, in the north. but its not just in the skin that most of the physical diversity resides. its in the different mixtures that can be found. there are dark hondurans, with bright blue eyes, and light brown curly hair. there are white white white hondurans, whiter than me, that have all the other characteristics of a pure catracho. but that's where i make my mistake. there is no pure catracho, or at least, they all are. this country is just as much a nation of mutts as the states are, if not more. there is no shame here in mixed couples. its kind of nice, no?

hn14.

you know, its funny how the smallest things can try one's patience. and not to a small extent where you can just shake it off and move on, but full out final exam quality patience testing at its best. i had that experience today, and it was quite a challenge, but i think i survived. in fact, i'm better for it, because now, same time tomorrow i can resume my herculean task and keep on keeping on. seguir a delante. i spent over six hours today cutting out a stencil for my job, a stencil which will serve as the standard for 41 signs which will be placed around the community in certified farms for the upcoming inspection. yeah, i know i've written about the signs once already, maybe twice, but frankly, thats what my life is about right now, so deal with it. i now have an immense amount of respect for those people around the world that spend their days cutting out little letters with a little knife out of cardboard. where ever you are, you champions of miniature stencil letters, i salute you. three cheers, a low bow, and whatever else i can do. it sucks. whats worse, is that this is the first day, probably of three, that i will have to spend cutting out these fuckers. and even worse than that, is once i start painting, there's a chance that the size of the letters will be too small, and the paint will run, and the whole thing will get completely ruined. so, let's hope against hope, wish against wish, want against...oh whatever, you get it. cross your fingers. but back to my original point, about stress release. today i found mine. and you know, it didn't include beer, grass, or video games like in the states. simply put, i rode a horse. and for the first time, longer than for just five minutes and only around the cooperative. today i took that beast down to the nearby river. we trotted, cantered, and even almost galloped, but i got kinda frightened for my rear end, as it was being severely battered by the motions of the animal, so i took it down a notch. together we almost made it out of the community, but as we were about to cross the border with the next village, a truck went by, and the horse decided that it would be exciting to chase after it. at first i couldn't help but laugh, but i soon realized that i had lost control, so i pulled it aside and gave it a stern talking to. i think it got the point.

side note

i've been reading through some of my recent posts, and it seems that my english is suffering from the lack of practice. words get repeated, grammar falters, and frankly, the quality of writing is far from top-notch. well i'll tell you all this, don't judge me. most of it is train of thought, so quality is not the first thing on my mind. and, i figure that one day years from now, i can sit down, organize all of these entries along with those that i can't post, and maybe publish something. don't laugh, i'm serious.

hn13.

life is good. but where to start, in order to give a true image of what is going on around here. first of all, I'm working. which is awesome. and not training, or integrating (sorry PAM directors), but actually working. Yesterday i spent the day painting signs for the different coffee farms of the cooperative. Each farm is required to have signage posted which displays the rules and regulations that pertain to a certified Rainforest Alliance producer. Today, i built part of a latrine, fixed a broken water pipe, and did further research on the signs, regarding phrasing of the rules. Its amazing that this is part of the process of certification, but its almost impossible to find an exact list of the rules. What else. Well, first of all, my family is the shit. In fact, they remind me a lot of my russian family, at least the gershenson side. My host dad, or whatever, is very similar to my grandpa eugene, who sadly is no longer with us. His manerisms, humor, and general personality is like a mirror image. His borther-in-law, my uncle, is like my uncle volodya, especially when we play cards. And my host brothers, well theyre a lot like my cousins. A mixture, but still. Sometimes its creepy, how alike they are. If we were speaking russian and not spanish, i would feel like I was back in Moscow. Regardless, the family is awesome. We spend lots of time talking, sometimes about politics, farming, and anything really. They are super intelligent, and always thinkin outside the box. We play UNO a lot, which I never thought would be as exciting and awesome as it is. We spend about 2 hours a day playing, and no one ever gets tired of it. They've been playing non-stop for over a year now, and hopefully they'll play for at least two more. On a different note, yesterday I rode a horse, alone, for the first time in my life. It was sweet. Granted, it was only around the property of the cooperative, but still. At first when i got on, it tried to throw me off, but the owner took its reigns, and i whispered in its ear, and after that point i became its new best friend. We're supposed to go riding again on sunday, but I dont know if that will happen for now. Regardless, he's ready to lend me the horse whenever, so, I guess ill be riding. Sweet, no? As far as integration goes, I've met a large portion of the cooperative farmers, about 25 or so, and although i dont remember all of their names, im workin on it.

p.s. new photos are up peoples!

hn12.

i'm speechless. more importantly, i'm ecstatic, because it seems that i have been blessed with the greatest PC site in history. not only do i have every possible project available to me, but I have amazing couterparts, and a host family which has already rocked my socks. alright, where should i begin. i was sworn in yesterday, among cheers and applause at the american embassy. i even got a silly picture with Hugo, our ambassador to Honduras, which I will be posting as soon as my friend emails it to me. it was histerical. we then celebrated in Valle, again, awesome times filled with Imperial and pupusas. I arrived home and tried to sleep, but failed terribly. In the morning I said goodbye to my family and it ended up being much more emotional than i could have ever expected. My host father hugged me and said a prayer, and then remained on the road for about half an hour just to watch the bus go by again and wave. My host mom also gave me a hug and told me that I had to return and live with them again. I wanted to cry but my hangover and severe dehydration due to the night before prevented me from doing so. We got to Teguz by seven, and quickly got on the bus, which after 9 grueling hours dropped us in Cucuyagua. Now, cucuyagua is about an hour away from my site and luckily we were picked up by my host brother/other counterpart. Omar is his name, and he is one of the coolest hondurans i have met so far. In fact, the whole family is like that. His dad Omar is histerical. His brother Luis and cousin Tomas are extremely nice and welcoming. And his uncle Pedro is the shit. Before dinner, I got a chance to see the coffee cooperative where we spent a little while discussing prospective projects and it seems that not only will I be busy for some time, but its gonna be amazing working in this community. The diversity of projects is wide, everything from worm farming, to coffee certification, to GIS mapping, to women's group organizing, to environmental ed, to...well, the list goes on. Dinner with the family was great, accompanied by fresh squeezed orange juice, since we have a bunch of trees, YAY! And afterwards we spent the rest of the evening playing UNO, yeah thats right the card game, while cracking jokes and laughing. For about two hours. It was sweet. And tomorrow, breakfast is at 7 30, and not at 6, so for the first time in some time, I can sleep without having to get up at the ass crack of dawn. Again, AWESOME!

alright, now that i have internet i can maintain some sort of constant input into this whole blog business. today has been a day of wonder, filled with new people, potential projects, and lots of food. i spent the morning in a meeting with a bunch of local coffee producers and an NGO which is planning an eco tourism project in the area. their plan is to train 25 local farmers on eco tourism business practices, and then draw a crowd to the area. it seems awesome, but since our cooperative consists of more than 100 farmers, we might have to finish the rest of the training ourselves, and then possibly even do the whole thing locally. but no worries, since any cooperation leads to more success and at least we can work together to organize a plan of action/training schedule. after the meeting, we went to visit omar's grandfather. we were lucky enough to get to see his garden, which is filled with different species of ornamentals, vegetables, and fruit trees. afterwards, we shared a simple lunch and talked about the history of coffee farming in las capucas, which was more or less built from the ground up by the grandpa. it was very interesting. when we left, our plan was to catch a jalon towards home, but we got caught up talking to a local millionaire, who owns about 100 manzanas of coffee (i dont even know how many acres that is). He invited us into his home, and i got to see for the first time what luxurious life looks like in honduras. It was an eye opener, with beautiful marble floors, 10 rooms, bathrooms everywhere, a fireplace, and couches that you could melt in. he gave us some fresh pineapple juice, and we talked more about coffee, about organic production, fair trade, and the miserable pay that coffee workers receive per hour. quite informative. when we left, we were quite lucky to catch a ride with some locals, although sadly we left a bag of oranges in the back of the pickup. maybe we'll get them back. now, as i write this, my eyes droop with sleep but i am ready for another day and more work. its exactly what i wanted when i joined this corps of peace. heh.

p.s i posted some other pics in my latest picasa folder, they're old, but now that i have the webs, i can post more and more often. hopefully sometime next week ill be able to put up some photos from swearing in, if i can get them from friends.

hn11.

so, zelaya came back this week. he locked himself in the brazilian embassy and screamed to a crowd of the Resistancia, proclaiming his return and their salvation, or something. the government promptly retaliated, requesting the cooperation of the embassy and his capture. Soon violence broke out in the streets. According to some sources, people were beaten, some shot, and a police car was lit on fire by the rioters. Once the action began, the government issued a nationwide curfew. At 4 pm, everyone was supposed to be off the streets, watching their tv sets, and hoping against a civil war. Around 6 or 7, the government starting cutting of the power, as a means of deterring any kind of organized action, or news broadcasts that might put them in a negative light. Cell phone service was disabled for about 2 hours. Late at night, a full day "toque de queda", or curfew/stay at home announcement, was made, for Tuesday. All of our training sessions were cancelled, and now, we sit around the campo, hoping to hear something about what may be going on in the capital. It's hard to tell what is true or false on the tv or radio, as both sides have reason to release false information. Its amazing that a whole country can be put on the edge of its seat, just because some guy with a mustache and a white hat said some inflammatory things through a fence. I wish I could know what the US is doing, or what the rest of the world thinks. Once I get internet, maybe ill be able to maintain a better knowledge of current events, but for now, I'm in the dark. Its frustrating, but at the same time relaxing. Basically, there ain't nothing i can do but wait for word from Peace Corps. Until then, im gonna chill, listen to music, go hiking, and hope we don't get sent home. Cross your fingers guys, NO EVAC!

So we're back in training now, with our swearing in delayed for another week. i've posted some pictures, all 5 of them, but theres a really cool bug that no one could identify, so if one of you can, props. hope all of you are well. im safe here, so if you were worried, dont be.

hn10.

we partied last night like it was 1995, 99, or whatever year you guys enjoy to party like. we were invited to dance at the house of the host family of our training specialist, and by eight o'clock, almost the whole PAM 15 group was there. i spent much of the beggining in the kitchen, helping the daughter of the lady who owns the house, cook enchiladas, the whole time insinuating that she should be out dancing, and not cooking. outside, at first, almost no one danced and it looked as if the whole thing was going to turn out ugly, kinda like a 6th grade formal, where the boys and girls sit apart, chewin on munchies, staring at each other. but with persistent nudging, a few of us got some honduran girls to start dancing, and soon, the whole group was rowdy. merengue, bachata, punta, reggaeton, even some hip hop, like snoop dog and that one song that goes, "you know i like you, i know you like me, you know i liiikkkkeee you, i know you like me", or whatever. can't seem to remember now. by the third or fourth song, we were being pulled out to the center by different hondurans, everyone competing over the gringo boys. it was kinda flattering. at times it was awkward, as certain girls were there with their boyfriends, who would watch as we twirled their ladies around the yard. but when we apologized and tried to explain, they just laughed, and didn't seem to care. by 11, everyone had a regular dance partner, in my case the daughter of the lady who owned the house, and we danced and laughed til after 1 am. now, im in my bed, trying to sleep off the soreness, but the fucking chickens wont stop clucking.

i am now in zarabanda, our first site here in honduras. tomorrow we finally get our specific site assignments, no bullshit. hopefully, everyone will shut up about where they're going, and will somewhat relax, for the first time in weeks. i'm personally very tired of hearing everyone's guessing game, always discussing the possibilities. no one seems to notice that the location matters little, its the work that counts. but whatever, let them have their time to wonder, hope, and argue. tomorrow, everything will be different. as for now, i'm happy. exstatic to be honest. i spent the afternoon in teguz, part of it in the hospital doing an x ray, but for no reason. so i fell a few weeks ago, running in cleats down a dirt road, and twisted my ankle. today, when i asked a pcmo about it, she told me that it was necessary to do a radiografia, so that they could check if it was broken or fractured. i let them, mostly because it meant a trip to teguz and the peace corps office. i ended up getting 10 new books to read, checking my mail, chatting on the facebook. it was refreshing to be able to connect again, if only just for a few hours. but im getting used to it, living outside of the network, away from the constantly updating pages and blogs, news feeds. it feels nice. more time is spent with the family, talking, watching movies, cooking, writing. but yeah, for now, there isnt much more to say. maybe tomorrow, or this weekend, ill write again, hopefully something more exciting.

so it's official, i'm in. i'll be sworn in next week, and by the 26th ill be in copan. more specifically, ill be arriving to my site, las capucas, de san pedro de copan. there, for the next two years, i should be working with coffee certification, organic farming, home gardens, and even possibly, hydroelectric power and lobriculture (i dunno if its called that in spanish, but it means earthworm farming). it should be an awesome experience. apparently, i will be living with a really sweet family, in a beautiful house that overlooks the mountain at 1600 meters above sea level. I'll be right at the base of celaque. i'll apparently have electricity, an office with internet, hot water, and all sorts of amenities that make no sense for a PAMer. many of my companeros no tienen luz, or hot water. definitely not internet, la red, como quiera. but that's alright. life is what you make of it. ill have an opportunity to work daily with the common farmer, improving techniques of cultivation, organic fertilizer and pest repellents, and anythign else that can improve the sustainability of the coffee industry there. although i may spend some time indoors, i plan to be in the field as much as possible, sembrando with the campesinos, cosechando, y platicando. look that up in the dictionary if you need help, google should be enough. other than this, life is about the same as before. my familia aqui en zarabanda, is awesome. increible. they treat me as one of their own, and i try to repay the favor as much as i can. today, i acted as doctor, and patched up my little sister who cut her face on some barbed wire, o alambre de pua. she was running through the yard, where my older host brother is constructing something, and she didn't see the wire that was stretched at face-level. she ended up cutting her cheek all the way up to her nose, and splitting her gum open with the resulting fall. when they brought her to me, she was sobbing quietly, but surprisingly strong. she didn't say anything, but you could see that she was showing an incredible restraint, amazing for a girl her age. i cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol, and she didn't flinch. "does it sting...pica?" i asked. she nodded, but not even a tear. i applied antibiotic lotion, and asked her to rinse out her mouth with salt water. she obeyed, without a word. afterwards, she sat on the bench in front of me, head bowed, tears running down her cheeks. but she wasn't hysterical by any means. it was stammering. i then proceeded to act like an idiot, and she began to laugh. i don't think that i had felt as good in quite some time. it was so wonderful to see her smile, even as the pain clearly still hid beneath.

so it seems i spoke too soon. i wont write anything specific now, but mel zelaya is back in honduras. things might change. ill keep you all updated. peace. cuidanse.

side post.

ok, so i posted a few pictures while on a side trip to teguz today. don't have any blog entries to post, but pictures are up. check out the site, its on the links thing over here on the side somewhere. i couldnt post a lot of them, just because i didnt have my computer and i can't install picasa here, but i will post more once i have internets. k.

hn8

alright, so this is a much longer post than usual, mostly because i have started writing every day. i will also be writing more often in two weeks, with frequent posting, as my permanent site has internet availability. but i will tell you guys all about that when i get there.

part1
i'm not sure what to write, but i felt like writing anyway. i had a pretty miserable day today, but regardless overall i feel great. i'm in honduras. i still have moments where i ponder that fact with amusement. i was thinking today about life, as many have experienced it, and i think for my age, i'm doing just fine. living in a new country, with a whole new culture, assimilating, speaking a new language. not so bad. so when one day goes badly, who really gives a fuck. oh man that feels good to say. who gives a FUCK. exaclty. i don't. soon training will be over, and i will be in another place. but finally to stay, not just to pass through. a new home for two years. ill have new friends, another family, i think my fifth for this trip, or fourth, whatever. ill have a job, for the first time in my life, ill be my own boss. i can wake up when i want, plan my own projects, do what i wish whenever it is that i wish it. yeah ill be working with other people, but thats not the same. ill have no deadlines, not as we know them at least, no official time to start working each day. if i want to, ill have it, but that's up to me, and i'm ecstatic over that fact. if i dont want to work one day, i can go out riding or walking or sleep in a hammock, and no one can stop me. you know, just writing about it is making me feel better already about my day. and you know, i think even though there have been some rough patches with my fam, we've bonded more than i've thought. my little host sister drew a picture the other day of the whole family, and i was in it, as her big brother. today, she asked me if i loved them, and if i loved my real dad more than my host dad. lol, papochka, no worries, i still love you. i had to explain to her that it was different, that my love for them was on a different conceptual plane than my love for my real parents. i couldnt just break her heart. but it made me see that even though we dont always get along, or they annoy the shit out of me, its all because they love me. and thats kind of what a real family is like. sometimes, people can push you to the edge, but in the end, they'll be the ones pulling you back. and all it takes is an innocent question from an eight year old to see the truth.

part2
i wish i wrote more. maybe i lcak for inspiration, maybe my days are filled with such monotonous activity that little occurs which requires a written account. maybe, its that i don't see the richness of each experience that i have, at least not enough that i share it will all of you. i just watched into the wild, for the first time, and it made me wonder about the power of the written word, of the true story of an amazing experience. not that my [eace corps adventure is at all comparable to what Macandless experienced, but still. from now on, im going to try a new excersize. every night, regardless of what occured, i will write. either a summary of the day, or some phylosophical jibberish, or even some fiction. maybe a joke i learned, or a story i overheard at the nearby pulperia. for example, i can say that for today, although not much has happened, i have had one realization. i am a master of jalon. or hitchhiking. i have begun to use it as my sole means of transport when i commute in town, and for some reason, no one has yet to refuse. anyone who has a pickup truck is always willing. and it saves a lot of time, since the walk from one side of town to the other takes over half an hour. true, i could be walking more, but i save that energy for other things. like chopping wood. lol. anyway, ill write more tonight. maybe i can share some more, or not. regardless, you'll all be reading about it soon enough.

part3
ok, so since i have begun this journey i have experienced many social and cultural norms that are quite different from my exectations, even taboo in certain respects. for example, corporal punishment. i have seen it first hand here in honduras, and not just spanking, but flat out violence directed at children as a means of education, or training obedience. i have seen a father use a belt on children in such a way that would be considered illegal in the states, frowned upon to the highest degree. and you know what, after a discussion i had with my host mom today, it seems that it is quite the contrary here, in fact, its encouraged. yes thats right, encouraged. suggested. preferred. a cure-all, like the old potions of the middle ages, when 1 thing was used to heal any illness, reduce the size of one thing, increase the size of another, grow hair in one place, tan one spot, remove a rash, produce an odor, whatever. this is the same. they think that through a beating, a child learns that an action is unwanted. but to be honest, i dont think it works. i think it encourages hiding a behavior instead of altering it. and what's worse, the form of castigation itself is perpetuated throughout the generations, and children who were hit at a young age grow up to do the same to their own sons and daughters. so maybe the children cry, and seem like they learned a lesson, but in fact, the beating does little to actually teach right from wrong. they associate the beating with the instance, not the concept. so yeah, maybe a boy will be beaten for fighting with his sister while doing homework, but while they're playing soccer, he'll still pull her hair and push her, because for him, the cases are different. soon enough, his parents will see him doing it, beat him again, and he'll probably learn then. or not, and maybe in another place, with different circumstances, things will not turn out so well. in fact, maybe the inner rebelious nature of the child will lead to the opposite, and further unwanted behavior. i tried another approach with my little sister which worked out wonderfully, and i think is a excellent alternative. i was talking to her at one point today about something important, and midway through what i was saying, she turned away and began paying attention to something on the tv. i called to her, and she didnt respond, at which point i said her name and asked her to repeat what i had told her. she just shrugged, smiled, and turned back to the cartoon that was playing on the television. so i tried an experiment. i told her out loud that i was upset, and that in order to become friends with me again, and be my sister, she would have to appologize for her actions. well at first she huffed and puffed, and ignored me, but i did the same. finally, as i was walking to my room to go to sleep, she approached me, and quietly said, "disculpe por lo que hice", sorry for what i did. i asked her for what, she told me, and we parted ways. i forgave her, she went to sleep happy, and having learned that it is important to pay attention when someone is talking to you. sure i could have slapped her, given her the belt, and maybe this once she would have understood, but with the peaceful method, i provided incentive for good, and a consequence for bad. i don't think that in the future she will want to lose a brother or a friend that easily.

part4
so i'm gonna vent tonight, but only for a short while, and then i'll tell you what my two year old sister did in my room today. but venting first. so the honduras-mexico game was tonight, and we decided, us trainees, that we would hold a viewing at the salon tecnico, with a projector and snacks. claudia, our awesome training director, offered to make tajadas, or fried green bananas, but alas the electric stove was not cutting it. so i volunteered to go fry the things over the wood burning stove thing that was in the backyard. i ended up frying those fucking gineos for over 45 minutes. i dropped them off for the group, went to clean up, when marcos approached me about making popcorn really quick. so, i assisted him, and while half time passed, that's right, i missed the first half, we made a huge kettle of popcorn. however when i returned, i found that all of the fried bananas had been eaten,and none remained for me. and not a single thank you from the group. but wait, it gets better. we watched the rest of the game, and then josue, carmen, marcos, y yo, went to start cleaning up, only to find that everyone else, had left. they just peaced out, skadoodled, blew the popsickle stand. fucked off without a word. and we were left mopping, taking out the trash, and washing dishes. it was awesome. and you know what, it wasnt even the first time. when we made pancakes and watched a movie, same shit, different day. its amazing, how during the day everyone is curtious, "please" and "thank you" and "oh no, you first", and at night its every man for himself. or herself. whatever, not the time to be politically correct. no one even thanked marcos for the popcorn. whats wrong with people. alright, enough of that. more importantly, my sister and her escapades. so i'm sitting in my room while my host mom is trying to sell me some clothes that she keeps in the back. its like a side business for her, and it was more of a time for us to bond than anything. both of us knew that i wasn't gonna buy anything. so, as she goes through the bag, both my sisters, the 8 and 2 year old, keep going in and out of the room. now, the eight year old is cool, but the 2 year old still lacks any self control, so i forbid her from entering. just as a precaution. so the first time, im like, swendy, get out. she comes back, and im like, jennifer, take swendy out. (that's right, her name is swendy, not wendy, or sandy, but swendy.) third time, i let it slide, and all of a sudden, in the middle of conversation, little swendy farts, let's a big one rip, right next to me. PEDO, she says, and looks at me innocently. we laugh, but at this point, i'm like, get this thing out of here. i get the older sister to carry her away and continue chatting with my mom. within seconds the little monster is back, and by the time i even realize, she manages to shit, right in the center of the room. just like that. and then she stood there, just looking at me, repeating the word kaka. no remorse, or apologetic tone. just, hey, check it out, i just crapped in your room, what you gonna do about it? and the mom and the other sister just stood there, laughing. as if a child had not just defecated inside my private residence. i wonder if its a cultural thing.

part5
today was an awesome day. although it began fairly miserably, the way i feel now is beyond words. so i woke up this morning with a stomach ache, and ended up excreting something which looked like a mix between coffee with cream and sugar and hot cider. yeah, that's right. gross. but after i got to training, things started improving. i had lunch with john, which included an amazing salad of lettuce, tomato, broccoli, mushrooms, cucumber, lime, salt, and a whole lot of love. the first time i had veggies in like a month. i then had my last technical interview where i was given the best news of all. first of all, i have the most awesome site i could have asked for. ill be working in one of the most beautiful national parks of honduras, collaborating with a large coffee cooperative, working on organic farming, certification, hydro electric power, forest conservation, and environmental ed. yeah, all of that at once. hopefully, i can at least get one project off the ground. ill also be assisting with the construction of letrines, improved stoves, and other infrastructure. did i mention that ill have electricity and internet. yeah, internet. you guys will be hearing from me a hell of lot more often than before, hopefully. and i might even have a horse. shits awesome. it also seems that i will be placed quite close to a few of my good friends, which makes me quite excited. basically, i got everything i ever wanted, and more. on the 17th i will know more exact details, but ill be peeing my pants until then, out of sheer excitement and anticipation. but even more so, the awesomeness didnt stop there. i got home tonight and my family and i celebrated dia de ninos, which was awesome. the food was great, and best of all, we had a dance party where my little siblings jived and grooved to reggaeton and punta, while i used my flashlight to create a strobe light effect. for like half an hour. while the electricity was out. the music blasted out of my dad's pickup, as the kids went nuts on the porch. it was adorable and heartwarming. i danced with them for some time, and then resorted to just keeping the beat on the laser light show. by the time the lights came back on, the kids were exhausted and the parents ready for bed. it was a sweet night.

part6
had some excitement today, and not the boring kind that i've been writing about. tonight, my friends came by to escape the rain after working on a project at the nearby school with some locals. they had gotten stuck there when a huge storm hit our valley, and they were forced to come to my house because they live much further away. they had left the school locked, and by seven were eating catrachitas on my porch. when the rain stopped around 8, we decided to walk down to the school to get the rest of their things, and make sure everything was secure. when we got to the front gate, we found the lock forced open. in the pitch black we couldnt see anything, but with the flashlight that a fourth friend brought from his nearby house, i scanned the inside yard. at the far end i saw movement, at which point we decided it was best to visit the principal, get his truck, and come back in force. when we arrived, we found the place empty, but we still walked up and down the grounds, machetes in hand. apparently, the school has been broken into before, but as the classroom doors and the computer room door are all padlocked, no one has ever succeeded in robbing the place of anything valuable. crazy no?

hn7

ok, so its the first time ive had access in two weeks, and its only gonna get worse from here on out. ive been writing less as well, mostly because of the monotony of training and life here in la cuesta. not that i dont like it, just there isnt much to write about. but i´m happy nevertheless. training is almost done here, and then we´ll be in teguz for two weeks prior to shipping out to our permanent sites. im really excited. real work is about to begin, and all the awesome things that come with it. self direction, lack of authority figures, own schedule, etc etc. anyway, enough about that. ill write more about those things once they actually happen. for now, ill be posting the entries i wrote in the past two weeks, reflections, accounts of what has been going on. i would love to post pictures sometime soon, but the internet here is so slow, im not sure when ill be able to actually do that. maybe when we get to teguz. anyway, enjoy.

p.s. the second one is a little politically sensitive, so i would like to make this disclaimer, now, as well as again before the entry. my opinion is personal, and is not at all representative of the peace corps or us govt.

part 1
btw, prior to publishing this i should say that my views do not represent the views of Peace Corps, nor of the government of the united states of america. so here it goes.

i thought i might change the pace a bit, and instead of writing directly about my experiences and adventures, i may instead discuss some feelings i have been having. revelations you may say. now im not gonna get all nostalgic on you guys, no im not dying from the absense of my friends and family, although i do miss you all greatly. no, the truth is, i have been thinking a lot about the cultural differences between the states and here, and I think its about time to expound some knowledge on you people. alright, where should i start. first and foremost, honduras is a country that is still recovering from an epoch of colonial rule, in fact, so much of the current problems stem from what was done in the past three centuries. however, worst of all, to this day, the curses of upper class rule affect every aspect of society. now, some of you may say, shit, here comes the communist dribble. but no, i wont go there. in fact, i will remain apolitical, and will only say the following. when a select few are in charge of the financial situation in a nation, and all they care about is new cars and houses, while the remainder of the population, the majority, suffers, well thats a problem. a rather large and significant problem. and to be honest, this happens everywhere. in russia, in the states, and in central america. no matter what name the government goes under, the mismanagement of funds, aid, and resources places a heavy weight on the shoulders of the population. but you may ask, dimochka, how does this manifest itself so that you may express such strong feelings? well ill tell you. when the mayor of a small town drives a brand new car, lives in a mansion, and the only paved road in town leads to his house...thats a problem. when the government receives aid funding every year, but the municipalities and small communities havent seen anything since 06...thats a problem. when people live in cardboard houses with 8 children, and enough food for 4, all because of the lack of infrastructure, education, and local assistance...thats a problem. when people think that the swine flu is more dangerous than HIV...that's a problem. when students in 6th grade can't read, can't multiply, and don't care...that's a problem. when school is closed more days than it is open...that's a problem. what else, well there are a bunch of problems. the country is struggling. as the poorest nation in central america, honduras is hanging on by a thread. thousands are unemployed, maybe millions. the political system is faulty, with corruption at every level of power, regardless of affiliation. and worst of all, the common person seems comfortable where they are. sure they may complain, talk about it with their neighbors, but little is done to create any true change. and that's also normal. the same happens everywhere. and i'm not suggesting revolution by any means, i just feel that through reform, gradual, but progressive, reform, the people here can obtain a standard of living, and amenities, which haven't yet been seen by the majority of this nation. however, after all the negative is said and done, there are certain things which appeal to me. in fact, draw me to this lifestyle. first and foremost, its simple. people work, eat, sleep, watch telenovellas, play soccer, and talk with friends and family. that's mostly it. periodically someone will go somewhere, see something new, go swimming in the river, go to the nearby larger town, but by and large, life is, well, simple. little stress, and even less hassle. the food is simple, but amazing. beans, tortilla, chicken, pork, beef, avocado, vegetables, fruit, oh man the fruit, fresco, topoillos, choco bananos, baleadas, catrachas, tacos (different than mexican), empanadas, fried plantains, everything. its all delicious. and nutritious. but its not complicated, or expensive. and nothing is packaged, or processed. its all fresh. sure people eat chips and drink soda, but in comparison to the states, its nothing. to be honest, too many people can't afford that stuff. and the coffee. of man, the coffee. they drink it all day long, sweet, and black, and delicious. and that's cheap too, even organic. as for the rest of the day, yeah, a lot of time is spent in front of the TV, which dissappoints, but frequently its on mute, and people are talking about things they see, constantly in a state of discussion. its a shame that they don't read more, but that's not their fault, its the lack of education, and the idea that is solidified in the school systems that reading is only for studying. i guess, i'm writing all of this because it makes me realize how happy i am that i have chosen to be a volunteer here. i'll be able to change something. maybe something small, insignificant in the scope of the nation, but regardless, something nevertheless. maybe after i leave, there will be people somewhere here in honduras that will perceive the world differently. that will want to do things another way. a better way. a more concientious, environmentally sound, responsible, way. hell, they may even want to read some novels, instead of watching them.

p.s. now that i have read what i wrote a week ago, it seems a bit cliche. but ill publish it anyway, mostly because it was how i felt then, and why i wrote it. hopefully you guys have appreciated it. if not, ill get rid of it, save it somewhere else.

hn6.

entries from the past 2 weeks, although I have been writing less and less lately. I guess a lot has depended on my energy levels, which are significantly low lately. a mixture of our grueling training schedule, 7 30 am to 5 pm daily, and constant cacophony of pollo outside my bedroom window every night. actually, last night there were people creeping about outside my house, probably trying to rob the place, but luckily everything was locked, and they gave up quickly. maybe they saw my dad´s gun on the kitchen table and decided it was a safer bet to let it go. not worth dying for a few cheap appliances. i have also been maintaining my sanity with some russian candy my mom sent me, so thank mamchik, the stuff is like my new crack. if anyone has a chance to, go to a russian store in your neighborhood, and ask for batonchiki, or little loaves. they´re the shit. anyway, here are my most recent entries. enjoy. hope all is well with you peoples. cuidanse.

there is not much for me to write today, but i feel obligated to at least mention a little about what has happened during training in the last few days, as well as the occurances of last weekend. everything in PST has been going well, with lots of hands-on goodness. this week's focus is ecotourism, so we went into comayagua today to see how rio negro's campaign has been going (rio negro is where a volunteer has been working with locals on some eco-tourism projects, and where we will be going tomorrow to camp out and learn about the work). it seems that there are a lot of difficulties in advertizing such a project, however it was a good learning experience nonetheless. this weekend, a small group of us went to some natural pools with a large local family, where we went swimming, ate a sweet honduran meal, and more or less relaxed for a day. i jumped from a tree into a pool and luckily have a video to prove it, so you guys can watch whenever i get around to posting it on youtube or wherever. its sideways tho, so i dont know if i can fix that. anyway, so far, that's all i got. oh wait, on a different note, i got a haircut and a shave, honduran style, so once i get a few pictures of myself with my new doo, you guys can laugh it up. alright, ill write more when i got more to say. cheque.

again, i don't have muchas ganas to write right now, but i've been slacking lately, and well, its about time i sat down and wrote a lengthy one. first and foremost, news. this past wednesday, our group went camping in rio negro, where we spent the evening platicando with the natives, discussing all sorts of topics. thursday morning the local tourguides who have been in training with a PCV for some time, took us on the trail to the cascada, or waterfall. it was beautiful. the rainforest was lush, filled with a plethora of tree species, shrubs, ferns, and anything you could think of. the trail followed a river which acts as a water source for the whole comayagua valley, which includes my home town of la cuesta. we spent a long time walking, discussing the points of interest, but the pace was slow, and it frustrated me a little. i guess its necessary for a guide to hike at the pace of the slowest in the group, but ours was quite fit, and i think we could have moved quicker. its also possible that after years of hiking with mom and dad, i have been trained to move quickly up and down mountains, so maybe i was just out of place. regardless, the waterfall was amazing. we drank the water directly from the source, and to be honest, it was more refreshing and sweet than i could have imagined. its a shame that by the time it reaches the people in the valley, its full of ghiardia and parasites. pues, asi es la vida. we spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the procedure with the guides, giving pointers, constructive criticism mostly, trying to improve the overall experience. we all returned exstatic, if not for the experience, than just because we got to spent a night in the woods, away from the norms of tech training. friday was devoted to a cultural day, where our group presented american culture, whatever that is, to our host families and a large group of school children, while they presented their culture to us. it was an interesting experience, but overall i think it went well. i acted as master of ceremonies, along with my companera lucy, who did a much better job than me. regardless, it went off mostly without a hitch, the people were happy, and us voluteers got to try a bunch of honduran food. ah, finally, now i arrive at today. this morning, a group of us went to repair the damage that had occured to our stove, the one we built a few weeks back. apparently, we failed in certain aspects during the initial construction, and algunas partes did not work out, or broke. so, we went back and fixed it, good. now, hopefully, in three days when the whole thing dries, we can come back and see how it works out. hopefully, the clay mixture will hold, and the hornilla will heat up properly. at least we learned a lot from the experience, and now it looks a hell of a lot better than it did before. at three we played a game of soccer with the locals, which began well, and ended badly, with us losing 4 to 8. but i guess it happens. quedo mal, la marcadora era fea, pero, aprendimos mucho. i returned home, ate dinner with the fam, chopped some wood, and carried a 5 gallon jug of water, could be 6 or 7, dunno, from the nearby supermarket all the way to my house. it was all pretty exhausting.