2 lists

I, too, and a bit worried about elections. And so to turn my mind to other thoughts, I am compiling a list of Things That Are Ridiculous About the United States of America that I have thought of after 2 + years on the outside:

1. Zoning laws 1. Here, if you have a big pile of bricks and some sand, you got yourself an extra room, or maybe an apartment behind your house. Whatever works.

2. Zoning laws 2. Thanks to my friend Ben, I just found out that it is ILLEGAL to keep chickens in your yard in Goshen. Seriously! What are we afraid of? Fresh eggs, pleasant clucking sounds; I don't see a bad side. I don't think my neighbors here would understand the concept of chicken illegality.

3. Nursing homes. I have a new appreciation for inter-generational living. So much so that Andrew and I are going to give it a go for awhile when we get back.

4. Anxiety, sometimes even fear, of women breastfeeding in public. I think this might stem from our overall fear of anything that connects us with the animal kingdom. I have gotten completely nipple de-sensitized... breastfeeding is everywhere. It happens everyday. It's natural. I promise. Nobody gets hurt.

5. Lack of good, cheap, inter-state public transportation. We can get from San Pedro to Tegucigalpa, a five hour bus ride, for less than $5. Or you can spring for air-conditioning, really comfy seat, movies, and a white bread/mystery meat spread sandwich plus a coke for $15, with no stops along the way. Why can't we do this in the states? Greyhound is tired and sad and drooping and super-inconvenient, not to mention strangely expensive.

6. Disposable diapers. Seriously. If Honduran women can get up at 5am to wash their cloth diapers by hand, we can take the time to throw ours into a washing machine. And save the planet a little.

7. The Buffet. Luke-warm, bad tasting, sneezed upon and handled food in massive quantities. Although this does not apply to Indian buffets, which are pretty much awesome and should be encouraged.

8. Absolutely enormous houses for small families. The houses that have rooms that nobody really goes into most of the time, but are still furnished, and of course, heated and cooled depending on the outside temperature. This particular beef relates to ridiculous thing number 3.

9. Lawns. Grass? Unless you're playing soccer or frisbee on it I'm really not sure what it's for. We should have gardens, and eat stuff from them. Or more trees. Shrubs at least.

10. Dryers. Sun, anyone? This also relates to beef numbers 1 & 2, as Ben also told me that in some places it is ILLEGAL to hang your laundry outside.

Wait! Just in case you are thinking that I have no love for my homeland, here is a quick list of things I totally love and miss and can't wait to get back to:

1. Sidewalks.

2. Bike paths.

3. Pedestrian right-of-way.

4. Diversity.

5. My bike.

6. Swimming pool access.

7. Gender equality.

8. Our constitution, which is old and easy to understand. I'm pretty sure a military coup would not fly under our constitution.

9. Trees in the cities. And birds.

10. Amazing variety of food.

Elections

This Sunday's elections have been hailed by the United States and the de facto Honduran government as the only exit to the political crisis that has further impoverished this already struggling country. The United States has been clear that they will recognize the results of the elections, despite the fact that Zelaya was not returned to the presidency. Most Latin American countries say they will not recognize the new government, but only time will tell whether the elections will put the situation to rest.

Some fear violence on election day. Many (most?) are apathetic. I have not talked to one person who will be voting on Sunday. My sense is that Hondurans are so fed up with the political corruption and impunity that to vote on Sunday is to legitimize a system that is deeply broken.

If you are interested, here is a blog entry that summarizes the militarization surrounding these "free" elections. The most troubling reality to me is that the military has sent a letter to all mayors asking them to provide names and telephone numbers of all of the people in their communities who belong to the resistance movement. The fact that the armed forces can so openly root out people it considers to be political dissidents proves to me that this was, indeed, a military coup.

Mormons, Jehova's Witnesses and Thieves...O My

Sometimes interesting people come to the door. Today it was the mormons. I was snapping beans in the kitchen when they arrived... Andrew was up the stairs buying eggs at the pulperia. I saw them, three of them, in their white shirts and black ties and metal name tags, through the window, and I nervously took a handful of beans with me to the door. In normal Flor del Campo fashion I talked to them through the narrow bars of our porch door for a bit until I felt too ridiculous and unlatched the door, exposing myself to their full-on mormon eye contact. They must teach the eye contact thing in missionary training because they are all very good at it. It is hard to maintain constant eye contact with three clean-cut men at the same time, but not to be intimidated, I did my best.

The tall, blond, blue-eyed mormon on the left was surprised and I think a little flustered to find this dirty-haired gringa at the door, socks jammed into flipflops coming up to meet capri pants, green beens in hand. His spanish came out too quickly and a little jumbled, and more than once I had to ask him to repeat himself as he asked me what state I was from and what I was doing here... turns out he's been in the neighborhood 3 months. Believe me, there is nothing more awkward than meeting someone from your own country in both of your second language... ask any expatriate. It is part challenge, part confusion, all awkward. Especially when they are evangelizing you.

I have nothing against mormons. Growing up in the Northwest, I was fascinated by their large families and backyard trampolines, and often wondered if all of them had a propensity for theater or if that was just a phenomena of my particular highschool.

Andrew is nervous and distrustful of mormons... he came back to the house, eggs in hand, eyed them and quickly entered the house after a short greeting. He grew up in the midwest, so mormons were a thing of legends and jokes to him... not the kids tripping next to him in gym class. He prefers to be evangelized by Jehova's Witnesses. It's true, they have more to give and less to ask of you... happy to leave the latest Watchtower pamphlet and the daily scripture, without asking to chat, come inside, or press any life-altering religious decisions. Last weekend it was the Jehova's Witnesses who came knocking. I am nervous and distrutful of Jehova's Witnesses so I hid in the bedroom while Andrew chatted them up. They left after a few minutes and after leafing through the Watchtower a bit he started wondering out loud about JW theology. What is it they believe? Why don't they celebrate birthdays? What is this magical number about anyway? I ignored him.

He popped out the door to see where they went. Only Andrew would ask a JW back to the house. They were just coming back up the stairs, so he flagged them down and politely asked them if they thought everyone but them and their fellow JW's were destined for hell. Now the nice lady with the shade umbrella was the one to be nervous and distrutful, and a little out of her element... she excused herself and went to have a quick conference with her co-horts at the top of the stairs. Two minutes later another nice lady brought the smaller, thicker, “¿Qué Enseña realmente LA BIBLIA?” and said maybe when they had more time they could come back to chat.

Not all of our visitors have a religious motive. Yesterday a young man brought a very blingy (there is no other word to describe it's rhinestone-encrusted amazingness), tech-y, over-the-top cell phone to the door. He held it out to us through the bars, asking if we could please switch the language setting to Spanish, since he couldn't understand any of the English settings. He said a friend had sent it to him. Uh huh. We couldn't figure it out right away so he left it with us, which we let him do because it all happened so fast... and now the blingy thing is sitting on the table two feet in front of me, blue light blinking. We never did figure it out, he never did come back to get it. I don't like having the expensive, clearly-stolen-at-some-point thing in the house, but what to do? We await his return. Maybe it's better to go away for the weekends.

Accord? Think again.

Yesterday's jubilant headlines suggest that the political standoff in Honduras has come to an end. If you simply read the headlines yesterday you may be led to believe that Zelaya is already back in power, and that the November elections would be recognized by all of the world's governments. But there is still once hitch: according to the agreement both sides would let the National Congress decide whether Zelaya would be reinstated. The Congress, however, seems to have no intention of calling the emergency session for the vote. Al Jazeera is reporting this morning that since Congress members are busy campaigning all over the country, there is no time to vote.

The National Congress, Roberto Micheletti, and the entire de facto government has continually insulted the Honduran people's intelligence throughout this political crisis. They seem to think that they can do whatever they want without consequence, despite the fact that most Hondurans favor Zelaya's return and dissaprove of the coup. After four months of constant protesting, despite the repeal of Constitutional guarantees and the crackdown on "dissidents," they can be assured the Resistance will not stay quiet.

It is hard to be over dramatic about Honduras's economic situation resulting from the coup and the global financial crisis. A slew of factors are coming together to form the perfect storm that could do as much economic damage as Hurricane Mitch, or knock it down to the level of Haiti or sub-Saharan Africa. Unemployment has skyrocketed; due to a non-existent rainy season most farmers lost their crops and the water reserves going into the dry season are essentially empty; due to lack of rain and high temperatures (the average high in October is 79 degrees; yesterday was 90, and it was as hot as most days this month) the coming wildfire season will devastate the forests; the de facto government has racked up huge internal debt for which the new government will be responsible to pay. The list goes on and on. An economist from the organization FOSDEH told me two nights ago that the percentage of the population living in poverty will increase from 59 percent to 70 percent this year alone. He said the statistics were enough to turn him into an alcoholic.

With this in mind, consider that my organization, ASJ, has asked each presidential candidate for their plan on how they intend to confront these problems. Less than a month before the elections no one has anything. Unbelievable.

Would you like to take a survey?

This week I had the interesting opportunity of helping to administer a survey in our colonia, Flor del Campo, regarding the situation of land ownership in the community. They survey was part of the Asociación para una Sociedad más Justa's land rights project, whose lawyers and community organizers accompany neighborhoods in Tegucigalpa and San Pedro Sula who are fighting for land titles. First, a little context.

Flor del Campo, like many communities in Tegucigalpa, originally formed more than twenty years ago as a land invasion. This is common, and still happening, as more and more people migrate from the country to the city to look for work. This phenomenon has caused many land ownership conflicts, in which members of wealthy families claim to own large tracks of land that encompass these land invasions, and take advantage of the situation to charge rent upon threat of burning down houses, or worse. Often more than one rich land owner lays claim to the same land, and community members find themselves paying rent periodically to five or six people. This instability has been responsible for countless murders of community leaders fighting for land titles. About five years ago ASJ successfully lobbied the government to implement a new law to clear up these problems. Essentially, if an occupied piece of land is in dispute, the government can expropriate the land, place a value on it, and charge the community members an amount pay for the amount of land they own. Once each homeowner pays this amount, he or she receives an official land title, proving he or she owns the land. This money is held in a bank account. Meanwhile, the people who claim to own the land fight in court. Whoever is ruled to be the proper owner gets the money in the bank account. Win, win, win.

Flor del Campo was the first neighborhood to go through this process. The goal of this survey was to find out how many people have received their land titles, and, if they have, whether they have used them to get loans for home improvement.

In a morning of surveying I encountered some eye-opening realities. A few observations:

1.) The hardest question for people to answer was, "How many people live in this household?" Some people had to count and recount after running out of fingers, others argued about whether a family member lived in the house or not, others simply said they did not know. Wow.

2.) With the surveys I did, the average number of people living in a household was between 9 and10. There was not one house with fewer than 8. These aren't 2,500 square foot suburban mcmansions, either.

3.) In all of the households but one, the highest number of family members employed was two. That means in the best case scenario, two people were supporting households of 10, 11, or 12 people.

4.) Only one household reported a monthly income of more than $250.

5.) At one house, a woman busy grinding corn for tortillas did not seem to know who owned the house, how many people lived there, or whether she even had a tortilla business. This is not a reflection on her intelligence...I think having a gringo in her humble living room/bedroom/kitchen was just too embarrassing for words.

Rainy season? Not yet.

The quick political update: talks between Zelaya and Micheletti have so far failed to bring any kind of resolution. Zelaya is still running his government and emitting decrees from the Brazilian embassy (this will be five weeks tomorrow) - which, sidenote, always has me wondering, what kind of bed situation is going on in there? Micheletti seems to be holding out for the elections and trying to get Zelaya and supporters to sign a document stating that his government is legitimate. I have no idea what November elections will bring, but there has been talk both of voting boycotts, and the government forcing people to vote.

One unfortunate bi-product of this mess is the early and sad ending of the public education school-year, after days and weeks and added-up-to months of missed classes. One of my English students, Dayro, stopped by yesterday... he is a senior and will be graduating this coming Saturday, but his highschool isn't holding a graduating ceremony or party or anything. He wasn't even given end-of-the-year exams. Nobody was this year - all students are being automatically passed through to the next grade.

On a more personal note - Andrew and I have been pretty busy lately. Andrew's work continues to step it up another notch every time he seems to get comfortable with something, making him seriously doubt any cultural stereotypes of a more laid-back work environment.

I started another round of English classes, this time adding an intermediate class for about 12 of my past students, which has been really fun. We've graduated to the past tense!!! We can talk about how we felt yesterday! I am trying to be a little more zen-like about my work environment, and not let the interpersonal weirdness and dynamics come home with me - now both of my initial co-workers have been fired, which was a sad and frustrating experience for all of us since there was little to no communication from the board of directors about that decision. My new co-worker is a former board member, very quiet, very male, very... quiet. We are very polite to each other.

The neighborhood news is that firecrackers are IN. Everybody has them. They could go off at any moment.

Our new country representatives (our bosses) arrived a few weeks ago and they are great!!!! And yes, they are probably reading this. But really, they are great. We had a team meeting last weekend at Valle de Angeles which was an absolutely fabulous break from work and the city, complete with a hike, good singing, food that we didn't have to cook, and an espresso machine.

What else is new.... hmmm.... well, I'm pregnant. That's pretty new. Bonus prize for those of you who read all the way to the end! Primero dios, we'll be bringing a little catracho home with us. Please, no curfew jokes.

Impasse

Two folks from our colonia who support the resistencia have died in the last week. On Tuesday a 65-year-old man who was buying food at a corner store in Flor del Camp was shot when the resistencia march encountered police. People from our church said the marchers were unarmed when the police began to fire. Last night a 24-year-old girl died from asthma complications after she was exposed to tear gas fired by police to disperse protesters. This all hits closer to home, though we didn't know either one personally.

Tonight Reuters is reporting on a presidential decree to suspend certain civil liberties, such as freedom of speech and freedom of assembly, in an attempt to quiet the resistance. Radio Globo, one of the only pro-resistance--though not always accurate--news sources, said that the decree also calls for the station to be officially silenced, along with Channel 36. We'll see this week if these reports turn out to be true.

The curfews at this point are only in place at night, but the suspension of civil liberties, if true, does the same thing in one fell swoop. Now the military and police can arrest anyone at any time.

Someone at church today said that we are "living in a time of shadows." For many who consider this fight to be against injustice and tyranny, these are dark days indeed.

This is what happens when the entire country goes shopping at once

Today the Micheletti government lifted the curfew from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. to let the country stock up on food, water, medicine, gas, and whatever else people needed. Is this a sign that we should prepare to hunker down for at least another few days?

We walked to La Colonia, a big grocery chain with two stores nearby. We try not to shop there too much, preferring instead local venders, but some things are available only here--chickpeas, split peas, lentils, peanut butter, etc. Enough justifying.

It was crazy. Stockers couldn't keep up with demands, as people stocked up on essentials, such as rice, beans, tortilla mix, flour, meat; non-essentials, such as Coke, single serving sugary yogurt drinks, frozen fish sticks, pre-pureed beans; and things I wouldn't think of buying in a crisis, such as doll sets and drying racks. The most popular item: styrofoam Cup-o-Soups. That aisle had been ransacked.

The meat section had been totally picked through.

We didn't eat before we left. Big mistake.

The line we waited in for two hours. Hope we don't have to do that again for a while.

Curfew extended

The curfew was extended last night until 6 p.m. tonight, though some news sources are reporting that it will be lifted from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m., possibly for a pro-Micheletti march. We are going to take advantage of that time to visit some folks in our community.

Last night was an ugly night in Tegucigalpa. Tires burning, people shot, police repression...you can read about much of it at www.hondurascoup2009.blogspot.com.

Laying siege

The Honduran de facto government has essentially laid siege to the Brazilian Embassy, where Mel Zelaya has been holed up since yesterday morning. While there have been threats that soldiers may storm the embassy, the government continues to say it will respect the embassy's sovereignty. This is a big waiting game.

But in addition to the embassy, the government is essentially laying siege to the entire country, with a curfew that has been extended until 6 a.m. tomorrow morning. That will be 36 hours of continuous curfew, and with all of the demonstrations happening in various parts of the country tonight I would guess they will extend it again tomorrow. (We pray they won't.) Radio Globo is reporting that people desperate for food have begun sacking food distribution centers. Consider that many people here live day to day, buying only what they need for the day because it is all they can afford. Additionally, many people depend on the wages they receive every single day selling tortillas, fruit, vegetables, housewhares, etc., in order to buy the food they need. If everyone is in curfew, they don't sell. Add to that the fact that many of the corner stores where many people buy their rice and beans are running out of food, because the distribution trucks are not allowed on the streets. This is after only one day.

As we sit here eating delicious red bean veggie burgers, taking stock of the food we have saved up we can't help but recognize the privilege it is to have enough food to get through a week. Hope it doesn't take that long.

They may be preparing to storm the Brazilian Embassy

1.) We are under a curfew until at least 6 p.m. tonight.

2.) Thousands of people camped out at the Brazilian Embassy last night in a peaceful protest to protect Mel Zelaya, who showed up unexpectedly yesterday morning. The military dispersed them with tear gas and pressured water.

3.) We are listening to Radio Globo right now, and they are reporting that the military seems to be preparing to storm the Brazilian Embassy.

Here's an excellent blog to read with context.

Please join us in praying for peace.

Unexpected and dramatic news from Tegucigalpa: Mel's back

According to new reports and confirmed by the US State Department, deposed presidente Mel Zelaya snuck back into the country and is in the Brazilian Embassy in Tegucigalpa. Thousands of Mel supporters have gathered outside the embassy. The Micheletti government, up until recently, has been denuing that Mel is back. And, surprisingly, the government has not issued curfew, and military are not in the streets. It is hard to separate fact from rumor, but all signs point to Mel actually being in the country.

I have no idea what's going to happen.

Here is a blog I wrote for Sojourner's.

Almost Famous

Andrew's on a podcast! You should listen to it!
http://www.mcc.org/podcasts/

Really? September?

We have been BUSY lately... Andrew and I have made two trips to San Pedro in the last two weeks; first to pick our two new one-year volunteers up from the airport and get them started with their orientation to Honduras, and then to see off our friend Caleb Yoder, our friend and fellow MCCer, as he finished his 3-year term this month, and then drive back to Tegucigalpa with Laura and all her things as she will be living not too far from us. We were especially glad to see Caleb safely on the plane, or at least headed in that direction, since he was just recovering from a bout with typhoid fever... he gets the award for coming down with the most serious illnesses in MCC Honduras history, after suffering from dengue fever and then a staph infection last year. Go Caleb! Stop getting sick!

Some highlights from the trip and the last two weeks:
1. I finished up with my second round of beginning English classes.
2. I learned how to make a really fancy piñata.
3. We were able to spend two nights on the farm with the Stephens family during which we got to taste my all-time favorite hot sauce that Stephanie made (they gave us a jar - we are putting it on everything) AND (this is the best part), we got to climb up and hang in hammocks that Sean strung 50ft up a big tree behind their house. I'm hoping we can sleep in them next time we stay there, but for now it was fun to make it all the way up and do a little tree climbing. I got a tree burn on my right arm as a trophy.
4. We ate a great fried fish dinner on the way home by the lake.

In other news... Andrew's position at ASJ has changed a bit - he now will be writing pretty much exclusively for revistazo.com, ASJ's online spanish publication. He's starting some in-depth investigative reporting on the illegality of the coup, and will be overseeing two writers that will join revistazo shortly. He's a little stressed.

It's been two months now and the coup and coup-related tensions continue. It's frustrating how long it's being drug out and how little regard for public opinion, safety, and human rights the government and military are showing. For some, marches and demonstrations are a daily reality as they struggle to resist the coup; for others, life continues as normal.

Dinner at the farm.


All harnessed in and hanging up high.

Max is admirably fearless.

Goodbye Caleb.

Welcome back Rachel and hello to Andrés, our new fellow MCCer from Colombia. Here waiting for fried fish at the lake.

Just a few pictures...

It's been a nice little Saturday... Andrew and I got up, had some coffee, then headed down to the open air market downtown. After some pupusas (for me), and baleadas (for him), we got down to business and bought as many fresh fruits and vegetables as we could carry. I painted a little this afternoon and then we made pizzas with my friend Ivonne. This is the first Saturday in months that we've had to just relax around the house and get to the market, so very nice. Here are just a few recent pictures:

Guillermo really likes to hang out in the pool when it's hot. It doubles as a bathroom.

Making bagels. I was not able to flip this picture. Yes. Lame. But the bagels were NOT lame; in fact they were quite tasty and a new personal favorite, and pretty much the only thing I'm willing to bake.

This we took on a recent day venture to Santa Lucia, my new favorite little town in Honduras. Unfortunately, none of the scenic pictures I took are worth posting, since it was gray and rainy most of the day... but you can see how happy we were to be out of the city for a bit.

My first English students with their diplomas. We were just missing Jessica, who couldn't make it due to one of the demonstrations that blocked her way back home after a visit to her family out East.

Painting flowers on Saturday.

This little friend landed on Andrew's hand while we were waiting for the bus one day. I kind of think he was blowing a kiss at me. Flirting a little bit.

Clowning around

In addition to a smooth and economical ride, Honduran busses often provide unexpected entertainment: preachers giving sermons about the end times, salespeople pitching various skin creams and magical pills that cure everything from earaches to cancer, and, my personal favorite, clowns.

Yesterday on my way home from work with one of my co-workers, Deily, we treated to an act by a very cute, very young clown couple. It was probably the best clown act I had ever seen on a bus, due to their genuineness. This wasn’t just a sad way to make money by telling crude jokes about women and mothers-in-law, as most clown acts are. They really took their art seriously. And the rest of the bus really found it hilarious when they used the gringo—me—as their volunteer.

It went something like this, with the actors being Boy Clown, Girl Clown, Gringo, and Deily:

Boy clown: *Something about what would happen if all the women on earth suddenly died. Morbid, but fodder for a good clown act.*

Girl Clown: But if all the women on the earth died, you men would be in big trouble. Who would cook for you?

BC: Not a problem at all. Look. Hey, gentleman standing there. (Points at gringo.)

Gringo: (Turns to Deily.) Uh-oh.

BC: Gentleman, can you cook?

G: Uh, yes.

BC: See, Girl Clown? He can cook. Problem solved. He’ll cook for me, and I’ll cook for him.

GC: Ah, but who would wash your clothes?

BC: Not a problem at all, Girl Clown! Gentleman, gentleman. Can you wash clothes?

G: (Face red, trying not to notice that everyone is staring and laughing at him.) Yes.

BC: See, Girl Clown? He’ll wash for me, and I’ll wash for him.

GC: Ok, Boy Clown. But I know one thing that you can’t do. Who will have babies?

BC: Gentleman, gentleman. Can you have babies?

Deily: (Jabbing Gringo in the back.) Tell him no, Andrés! Tell him no!

G: (Wags finger at Boy Clown.) No.

BC: Some punch line that couldn’t be heard as entire bus was laughing at the gringo who can cook, wash clothes, but can’t have babies.

Good stuff. So good that I gave them 10 lempiras. It was probably worth at least 12.

The relajo continues...

So it's 3:00 am and I couldn't sleep... life here in post-coup Flor del Campo goes on... last week my friend Arely had her baby (giving me an eye-opening glimpse of the Honduran public health system), and yesterday my friend Tina's mom passed away. Daily life in Flor del Campo continues, despite the fact that kids haven't had regular classes since the beginning of this month. I haven't written on this blog for almost three weeks now. Why the silence? Quite honestly I just don't know what to say... I've run out of words. Honduras is no longer front page news around the world, but anxieties and tensions continue to rise; the economic ripple affects are being felt as tourism has come to a screaching halt and major road closures due to marches and demonstrations are crippling local businesses. Everyone is tired of this mess.

Yesterday was a hard day for many people in our community. The main food market in Comayaguela, where most people from our neighborhood go for weekly grocery shopping, burned to the ground. This is a market where hundreds of people made their living selling fresh meat and cheese, grains and veggies and non-food essentials like clothes and burned CDs and DVDs. I haven't been down to the market after the fire, so it's still hard to imagine the damage; much less the despair that all those people with small businesses are suffering after losing everything they had.

Yesterday also brought a teacher friend of mine, Yesenia, to the library... she was very distraught after spending the morning at a pro-Zelaya, anti-coup march on the outskirts of the city. My normally super-calm and warm friend was visibly shaken by the violence she'd seen, as a fellow teacher had been shot by the military during the demonstration. She said the police threw tear gas and there was lots of pushing and chaos - later on the radio I heard an interview of another teacher who'd been badly hurt during the march.

Yesterday also marked day 6 of a 24-hour "toque de queda", or curfew, for the people in the departments bordering Nicaragua. They are being forced to stay in their houses because they have the unfortunate position of living between an ousted president and a militarily imposed president. The curfew started before last weekend, meaning people living in these rural areas weren't able to make the customary trip to buy groceries and staples. So yes, the poor are suffering. Stuck in their homes without food and in some cases without water - under threat of arrest if they decide to take to the streets.

So here I am, sitting in my dark living room in the middle of the night, thinking about Tina and her mom, the people from the market, Yesenia and her fellow marchers who witnessed such violence today, and people under curfew near the border. The injustice is mind-numbing. And paralyzing - probably the reason I haven't written in weeks despite the need to write and share with you, friends and family and maybe a smattering of strangers, what's going on here and how we're feeling. Plus I don't like to be a downer. I'll share one happy thought before signing off: as I mentioned, classes have been canceled most days because teachers are striking, but despite that; one super-cool, super-dedicated teacher named Jorge Juan decided to hold his sixth grade class in the library for a few days so his kids wouldn't be so far behind when their graduation exams come up in a few months. There is hope for the world.

Amanda is in Sojourners

Since Amanda probably doesn't want to engage in shameless promotion, I'll do it for her. Here is a piece she wrote for the Sojourners blog.

I, personally, think it's amazing.

Mel joins the jet set

First of all, a translation:

Estamos abajo del toque de queda lo cual empieza a las 6:30.

Colloquial translation: We are under a curfew starting at 6:30.
Literal translation: We are under a touch of stay starting at 6:30.

And we are under a touch of stay after a gripping day that has taken this country to new levels of tension. Ousted presidente Mel Zelaya, who has been using his fair share of fossil fuels by flying around Central and North America this week, was set to make his triumphant entrance this afternoon. Thousands of his supporters surrounded the airport to welcome him back to town. At around 5 p.m. we ran outside to cheering and the sound of an airplane. I looked up and saw the plane that was supposedly bringing him home. It made two laps around the city, acted as if it were going to land, and took off into the distance. The military had blocked the runways with humvees and didn't give Mel permission to land. He took off to Managua, and, later, El Salvador, promising that he will find a way in sometime this week. Though he has not succeeded in coming back to Tegucigalpa, he has been successful in keeping his name and face in the international media.

Today two were killed and two injured when soldiers opened fire on the crowd. It was the first blood to be shed and hopefully the last, but people are getting scared. Today our church was canceled for no reason and despite the fact that everyone lives within five blocks. A pastor I spoke with at a church fundraiser used the words "civil war" in a sentence. The country is becoming increasingly polarized to the point where it isn't as much about Mel as it is about the poor having a voice. Suddenly the formerly marginal socially minded groups, poor farmers, and folks from the country have something rallying them together and a target at which to direct the anger that has been building for the last twenty years of oligarchic rule. Mending this country back together is going to be very difficult, but maybe it is a good thing that the wounds of time are being exposed.

We continue to feel safe and look forward to the time when this standoff comes to a conclusion. It's stressful to live with such uncertainty and to see the poor suffer and lose hope.

Here is an article I co-authored with my boss, Kurt Ver Beek, in Christianity Today that explains a bit more about the situation.

6 days later...

It's 2:30 am and as I lay awake with a stomach-ache I started feeling a bit guilty to any faithful family and friend blog readers who might have been checking our blog this week hoping for some insight into the Honduran situation. My apologies. Something about wading through the deluge of blogs, local print, web and television news, international mainstream news, various rights-organization reports, and then finally many Honduran professionals' analysis of the situation - well, it left me a little speechless. And wary. Wary because so many of those sources came across so strikingly one-sided and in some cases downright false that I became struck by the power of words, and the responsibility we all have to be careful with how we use them. From a wary news-reader I have become a downright skeptic in the space of one week. I graduated!!

First for a personal note - the week has been a strange combination of building tension and anxiety, and absolute boredom. Andrew and I have logged in long hours in the casita just reading news and ruminating on what could happen here in the next days or weeks. The colonia we live in is on the edge of the city near the airport, so while we've had an up close and personal view of military plane and helicopter traffic all week, we're pretty far from the increasing (in size and frequency) demonstrations from both sides in the downtown areas. Andrew is much more connected to the goings-on as he commutes to the other end of town for work and has done some work interviewing and gathering information this week (I'll let him fill you all in on the fruits of that later). I, however, have spent most of the week sitting with my co-worker Ivonne in the empty library. Schools are canceled, nobody is coming in - I had to cancel the two new English classes I started this week. Tuesday's first day of class was a total bust as I was frazzled and my poor students had to squint to see the whiteboard during one of several power outages. The upswing of this is my craftiness is back on - I taught Ivonne to knit so together we produced two scarves and one hat during work. Military coup = crafty productivity.

On a less-personal note: tensions are running high as the new Honduran government installed after the military coup (many people calling it an arrest) refuses to back down and allow Pres. Mel Zelaya return. Micheleti declared that if Zelaya came back to the country he would be arrested and tried. As you all know from the international coverage of the situation - the international community, along with the Organization of American States, is backing Zelaya and threatening economic sanctions for Honduras if he isn't re-instated as President. The country is clearly divided and Hondurans supporting the ousted president are being silenced in scary ways. Local and international news sources that cast Zelaya in a positive light have been blocked, Zelaya supporters coming in from rural areas (most of his support lies in poor rural areas) have been denied access to cities by the military (here is footage on cnn.com of soldiers shooting tires out of 4 or 5 buses as protesters stood by), and yesterday we heard several reports from reliable sources that human rights organizations and leaders were arrested and detained by the military.

I think it's human nature to want to know who the good guys and who the bad guys are in situations such as these, so we can take the necessary steps to support the good guys, condemn the bad guys. In this case it's really not that simple. Zelaya is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a good guy. He made a lot of empty promises in order to gain the support of the poor. Micheleti is no better. I think this is a case of wealthy people and career politicians doing their best to retain their power and wealth. The ones who will lose in this political clash, as always, already are and will continue to be the poor. As the second poorest nation in the western hemisphere, this situation is the last thing Honduras needed. I keep thinking about people we've met out in the campo; people who were already struggling to get by day to day. The poor people that make up the majority of Honduras' population are the ones that will suffer from economic sanctions that will come if Micheletti and the congress refuse to negotiate and cooperate with the international community. The poor majority are fed promises and faulty information from all sides; they are the least educated with the least access to good information, and the most likely to suffer from this mess.

Coups

The Honduran president, Manuel Zelaya, was taken from the presidential palace by the military this morning and is in exile in Costa Rica. This is the first military coups in Central America since the Cold War.

We were woken up by a phone call from one of our church leaders this morning informing us that the military had arrested Honduran president Manuel Zelaya this morning. He is currently in exile in Costa Rica. Here is an article in the NY Times. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/29/world/americas/29honduras.html?_r=1&hp

The scariest part this morning was the lack of communication. They cut power to the whole country and shut down the media so there was no information about what was going on. Fighter jets flew right over house very low and there were helicopters taking off from our nearby airport. All of this was meant to be an intimidation, I think. The power is back on, however, and our internet seems to be working. People are definitely frightened and don't know what is going to happen, so people are staying home and out of the streets.

We felt blessed to have church this morning, attended only by a few people. But we prayed, sang, and talked about what was going on. Among the themes that emerged:

* God is always with us, even in times of strife.
* The powerful people who run this country (10 families) have tremendous power over the country. They tell us what they want to hear, they decide when we have power and information, and generally hold the country hostage.
* We have a duty to keep ourselves informed and not believe everything we read. Then, as Christians, we need to testify to the truth in all situations.

We are fine and feel hopeful. We don't know if the power will stay on, so if you don't hear from us it is probably because we are incomunicado for the moment. Please pray for the country. Pray for safety for everyone and a peaceful resolution to this ugly situation.

We'll be in touch.

When is an urn more than just an urn? When it's the 4th one.

Honduras today finds itself in the throws of political upheaval, and it all has to do with the fourth urn, more colloquially known as the fourth ballot box.

For the last few months trouble has been brewing in the Honduran government as President Manuel "Mel" Zelaya has advanced in his decision to include in the November elections a fourth ballot box that will determine whether Honduras will form an assembly to reform the constitution. This Sunday is the national referendum in which Hondurans will vote whether that fourth ballot box will be allowed.

So what is the big deal? It depends who you ask. The cuarta urna has its supporters and opposition, of course.

Those in favor of the cuarta urna say that the new constitution will provide the opportunity to rewrite the constitution to eliminate corruption.

Those against it believe that Manuel Zelaya simply wants to change the constitution so that he can run for a second term (presidents are allowed only one four-year term in Honduras). Not only that he wants a second term, but that he wants to install himself as dictator, a la Venezuelan Presdient Hugo Chavez, with whom Zelaya maintains a friendly relationship.

Everyone in the government -- the armed forces, the Congress (even Mel's own party), the attorney general, the Supreme Court -- is against Zelaya. The Supreme Court has ruled the move illegal and unconstitutional, but he's going through with it nonetheless. Rumors have been flying around for weeks now that there will be a military-led coups to toss Zelaya out of power before Sunday's referendum. Last night Zelaya sacked the head of the armed forces, and the rest of the military leaders resigned in solidarity, essentially leaving all of the military powers without a head.

It is hard to know exactly what to believe, partly because it is impossible to get reliable information. The media are all owned by the wealthiest people in the country who are decidedly against the cuarta urna and out of touch with the reality that most Hondurans live. Zelaya and his advisers, however, have provided scant information about what they actually want to change in the constitution, which smells fishy. It seems to me that if Zelaya did install himself as dictator and tried to run the country like Venezuela, he would run into major problems. For one, the country is essentially bankrupt and has no oil fields, as does Venezuela, to finance socialist reforms.

Today and tomorrow are important days for Honduras. No one knows how the situation will play out. No matter what, most Hondurans seem to think that no matter what happens the government will remain as corrupt as ever, looking out only for themselves and their own interests. It's a sad state of affairs, this hopelessness. With so much poverty, poor education, crumbling infrastructure, and now a financial crisis that is swelling the already double-digit unemployment rate, the future for this country looks dim. The fourth ballot box seems like just another dead end, not a light at the end of the tunnel.

Update: Here is an Associated Press article about the situation.

Another article from the Council on Hemispheric Affairs about the cuarta urna. Presents both sides fairly well.

The end of a very short era

Last Thursday marked the official end to my first round of English classes... although instead of having class we had a pizza party at my house, and admittedly spoke Spanish the whole time until I tried to start a round of "what do I like?" in English to wind things down, which effectively killed the party.

Here are a few pictures of my actual last day of teaching (I thought a game of Jeopardy would be fun, but nobody had ever heard of Jeopardy and in the end it got a little overly-competitive and was kind of a downer for the losing team. I inadvertently put most of the shy people on one team). A few people were missing, but this was about it by the end of the course - I'm hoping when I start the second round of classes next week I'll have more students! Along with this class I also taught one for highschool kids, and a conversation class of 4 students who already have a pretty solid English background. My goal is to have enough students by the fall to start a few intermediate classes.



Some things I really love about teaching English in Flor del Campo:
1. I'm always learning new things. Super cheesy but true.
2. Generally students are really, really motivated and really, really grateful for any extra time I'm willing to spend with them. Which not only makes me feel like it's always time well spent, but it also makes me feel like a super star.
3. English classes here are very expensive, so I love that my classes are free for everyone. I also love that several of my students are house-wives and normally don't have the opportunity to attend a class or learn something new.
4. I was walking down the street above our house the other day and a little girl I didn't recognize said "Hola Profe" (short for profesora and pronounced like "pro-fey"). I think when I go back to teach elementary school in the states I will insist on going by "profe".

Some things that were humbling about teaching English:
1. I asked for some feedback from my few and faithful remaining students at the end of our term, as to why they thought we'd lost about half the class. Most were quiet, a few said that a lot of people want to learn English but don't want to actually study, and then Brenda, ever honest, told me it's because I gave too many quizes. Point taken.
2. It turns out that English is very tricky and I've had to do a lot of work just figuring out how to explain some of the weirder parts of the English language. Should have taken that TESOL class at GC. But I think marine biology was probably way more fun.

Feeling good about La Campa

Amanda and I just returned from a refreshing, yet exhausting trip to visit Michael, one of our SALTers, in La Campa. Refreshing, because La Campa has to be one of the quaintest and most relaxing towns in Honduras. Exhausting because it required two 10-hour travel days (2 hours of which were spent in the back of a truck on very bumpy roads) of traveling to get there and back to Tegucigalpa.

It was worth it, though, to see Michael, and to participate in a good, old-fashioned campo cow slaughtering.

The festivities started on Sunday at 4 a.m. with a deep jab to the jugular. I missed that part, thankfully, but was present and fully awake for the subsequent skinning, gutting, dismembering, and sale of the beast. It was pretty amazing. At 4:04 a.m. it looked like this.


Here he was at 5.

And at 12:30 p.m.

(That's him in the bowl in the middle of the table.)

We ordered two pounds of rump roast, but they grilled it up for us so it was kind of chewy, but very fresh and local.

Otherwise, we enjoyed a morning in Gracias, Lempira; two hikes through canyon country; two nights at our favorite bed and breakfast; and some good discussion with a prominent member of the community about local-government corruption. For an interesting blog about that, check out Michael's blog entry.

Anyway, here are some pictures from our time in La Campa.

Colloquial/literal translations

Literal translations are funny. A guy down by the soccer field selling tomatoes just slapped me on the shoulder as I walked by and yelled, "¿Qué pedo, chele?"

Colloquial translation: "Hey, what's up, whitie?"

Literal translation: "What a fart, light-skinned guy."

A surprising new pet and an English story

First, the story:
As any teacher of a new language could probably tell you, learning a new language has it's funny moments. My 7-week English class is winding to a close this week, and we have had our fair share of humor, for sure. It's kind of half and half, which is nice: they get to laugh at my occasional Spanish slip-ups, which I think actually make them much more comfortable to try out crazy English pronunciations, and I get to have my own little private English jokes, which I have to wait to share later with Andrew. Here is my favorite: we recently learned food vocabulary, and after having a little "market" with cut-out fruits and veggies, everyone made their own restaurant menu complete with drinks, main dishes, sides, and desserts. My most intense student, let's just call her Brenda (that's her real name), was the first to turn in her homework, as usual. Brenda is a very literal person. She needs to know the exact definitions of every word I write down. I could tell she had laboriously looked up lots of new words. Her list of drinks looked like this: coffee, tea, juice orange, sprite, fresh, cocaine tail, milk of chocolate... wait! Did you catch it? Cocaine tail? I turned to her and asked what she'd been going for with cocaine tail because I just had no idea. Her reply: I'm going to be mean and leave you hanging on that one to see if anyone was quicker than I was.

Our new pet:
Melvin, who is also in my English class and on the library board of directors, came into the library for this morning's board meeting carrying a turtle. He'd found it on the road outside. We let it wander around for awhile, and then he and Dyro made the rounds to all the neighboring houses to see if anyone would claim it. Long story short: I GOT THE TURTLE! All of my nurturing needs are now being fulfilled with our little Guillermo. I think he was starving because after a long, harrowing morning in the library, I brought him home and we gave him a rotten banana, a mango pit, and two worms from our compost bin. He devoured everything, which was a good show, getting all goopy in the process, and now he's sacked out behind the recyclables that I don't know what to do with on the porch. We have an enclosed porch, so we plan on making him as cozy as possible and enjoying life with a new pet.

Guillermo hitting the mango hard

The most beautiful bird in Honduras

Last weekend, Kathy, Virgil, Amanda, and I spent a beautiful weekend in the mountains of La Tigra National Park, not far from Tegucigalpa. While there, I achieved one of the most important goals for my time in Honduras -- the witnessing of the beautiful Resplendent Quetzal. It's is the kind of bird that eludes you if you are trying to find it, so the key, apparently, is to casually be walking along the road trying to find a singing clay-colored robin, and just happen to come upon it sitting conspicuously on a branch just off to the right of the road. At least that's how it happened for us.

It was an incredible site -- a male in full plumage, shimmering green and red in the evening sunlight. Virgil and I (the only ones who saw it) gazed at it wide-eyed for a few seconds, then I tried to take a picture, in which the magnificent birded ended up a shaky, dark green blob. (The picture above is not mine.) This bird is special for a couple of reasons. For one, it is just so much more beautiful that it almost doesn't make sense. Two, few people ever see it, even in a zoo, because quetzals die in captivity. Third, rampant habitat destruction in Central America has driven this bird close to extinction. They need large swaths of undisturbed forest with lots of dead trees for nesting sites.

We spent Sunday morning with Honduran birding fanatic Daniel Germer, whose Web site Hondubirding.wordpress.com is linked to our blog on the right. It was a great connection and super fun morning. We also made his blog! Check it out here. Here are some other birds we saw:

Mountain Trogon
Rufous Browed Wren
Scaled Antpita
White-Faced Quail Dove
Black-Throated Jay
Strong Billed Woodcreeper
White Eared Hummingbird
Common Bush Tanager
Chestnut Capped Brushfinch
Slate-Colored Solitaire
Slate-Throated Redstart
Bushy Crested Jay

I'll try not to write about birds again for while.

I feel the earth...move...under my feet

Amanda and I awoke last night about 2:30 a.m. to seven seconds of excitement. An earthquake that struck exactly 200 miles north of Tegucigalpa made our little house in Flor del Campo shake and rattle ever so slightly, and caused Amanda and I to stand up and walk around aimlessly for a couple of minutes. We also made a contingency plan that involved putting on pants, leaving the keys in the door, and placing a flash light at the ready in case we needed to make a quick escape.

We didn't sleep much after that, partly out of fear of a stronger earthquake, but also because three Honduran friends called throughout the night to make sure we were ok. We appreciate that they were thinking of us.

The quake was reported as magnitude 7.1. According to most people I've talked to, last night's trembling was the strongest they had ever experienced in Honduras. Apparently a tsunami watch was put into affect and later lifted, and officials are reporting four deaths -- all children -- in various parts of the country. Sections of a major bridge linking San Pedro Sula to the town of El Progreso reportedly fell into the river. Officials are still assessing the damage.

Here is the AP article about the earthquake.

Papa loves mangos

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that mangos might be my favorite thing in the whole world. I love their red, yellow, green and orange peels; I love their juicy flesh; and I really love that at the fruit stand down by the soccer field they are five for a dollar!

But I'm sad that they will only be around another two weeks or so. I guess the 11-month anticipation is the price you pay for perfection.

Article on Revistazo.com

I thought I'd post a link to my first-ever published article in Spanish. It appeared today on Revistazo.com.

I'll just say that after the Revistazo.com editor made her changes that it doesn't look exactly like my original submission, but at least I know what most of the words mean.

I love libraries

I forgive anyone in advance for not reading this and just skipping to the pictures. It's probably what I would do.

I've put off writing about my new job up until now... but here goes. I work for Biblioteca Flor del Saber, a community supported library in our marginalized community called Flor del Campo. From our house I walk up some stairs, over a dirt road, up a windy little alley and down a windy little alley, down another dirt road and then I'm there at the beautiful iron gates of the library - twisted into vines and flowers and pretty things.

My first two months I spent on various projects: I organized the literature section alphabetically and did an inventory of books so that we could find books according to author and also check if we even have said book. The library was originally organized using the Dewey Decimal System, but within each major section the books were in no apparent order (they were actually in order by size, but no order that helps find a particular book). Eventually I hope we can get the whole library organized and inventoried, but the collection has over 4500 hundred books so it will take awhile. My co-workers Ivonne and Carolina and I also work together to put up monthly murals with information about national holidays and people of interest. We also help patrons and attend to requests for homework help. The library is a great resource but unfortunately kind of under-used, so we're also working on ways we can promote the library by hosting community events and doing more school visits.

Yesterday was my first day of teaching English classes - we're offering one free class to youth ages 12 - 18 in the morning and one for adults ages 18 and up in the afternoon, Tuesdays and Thursdays, for six weeks. I forgot how much I love teaching! I procrastinated, of course, on the planning; but I really enjoyed teaching and am looking forward to designing the rest of the course. It's fun to have total teaching freedom and the liberty to direct the class any direction we want to go... I'm going to type up all my lesson plans and materials to hopefully use for future classes.

I love the library. I love how beautiful and quality it is, and the fact that this amazing resource is smack dab in the midst of an impoverished neighborhood, and that kids and adults have access to this wealth of books and a computer lab. The downside is this: the organization that donated the books and materials and got this whole thing going, a private organization called the Reicken Foundation, was based on the wealth of one family. And that family lost most of their money in the market crisis recently, leaving the 50+ libraries they founded in Honduras with hardly any support. My two co-workers haven't been paid since January (that's right... January), and we haven't had Internet service in that long. It's a daily struggle for them to remain motivated as the questions of how they'll pay rent and feed their kids become increasingly difficult and pressing.

As an MCC worker, my rent, food, and all life's necessities are taken care of. I literally have absolutely no financial concerns, and I find myself taking that for granted, something that embaresses me when faced with the needs of my co-workers. One of them broke down in tears just yesterday worrying about how they were going to put food on the table. I've given and lent some money, but also don't want to get into the long-term habit of supporting the people I work with, people that SHOULD be receiving salaries. So what should I do? I know what Dorothy Day would have done... she would have emptied out that savings account in Goshen and cooked up meals for everyone on a daily basis. I'm just not that cool, or giving, or trusting. I struggle with what I really think people of faith are called to do and the daily shortcomings when that call is more than we can handle, or not what we want to hear.

View of the library facing the front door. Looks like Ivonne is straightening up.

Literature section. It's really a great collection.

Ivonne explaining about the global warming

Carolina demonstrates how the ozone layer is like an umbrella over the earth, shielding us from the harmful rays of the sun. I didn't get this on photo, but later, Ivonne cuts a big hole in the umbrella and Carolina sticks her hand through the hole... you can just feel yourself getting skin cancer.

The sixth graders attending the Earth Day talk were floored by this news, and vowed never to pollute the earth again.

I'm not sure why everyone is hugging.

Ivonne, me, and Carolina in front of our April mural, with the children's corner off to the right. I am a giantess.

Birthday fiesta!

I was skeptical, but Amanda had no worries that everyone would fit into our tiny house for our joint birthday party. We threw a pizza fiesta for friends, church people and neighbors to celebrate the passing of another year. Some people showed up to see what gringo pizza was like, others were just really curious how we decorated our house. No matter the reason for coming, the party was a success, and a reminder of the joys of living in a close-knit community. We're not sure of the count, but there were around 30-35, and only two couples we had never met.

We continue to learn new things about Honduran culture. Apparently only brothels use Christmas lights during the year. Thanks for the tip, Tina! No wonder there's always a line outside our door at night.

See our party photos here.

* Note: Due to photographer's oversight, our good friends Kathy and Virgil did not make the album despite the fact that their help with the party was indispensable. Thanks, Kath and Virg.

Our house was full.

The Cantor family, who gave us this wall hanging.Escarlet ready to bake her pizza creation.

All of our birthday presents.

I like birds

As Amanda mentioned in a previous post I have recently become enamored with -- or obsessed with -- birding. I'm not sure what it is, exactly, but I would not be as fanatical about it if it weren't for Virgil Troyer, MCC Disaster Response Coordinator, and Birder Extraordinaire. Actually, I also owe much thanks to my father-in-law, Ralph Lind, for buying Amanda and I a pair of incredible binoculars; and to my mother-in-law, Brenda Janzen, for gifting me an exhaustive Central American birding book. Thanks! I think what I like about birding is that it's a low-impact, low-equipment hobby that involves lots of reading, research, and careful observation.

I've compiled a really nice list of birds in the last 6 months, which I will not reprint here, but hope that in the next year I can add many more, including the elusive and beautiful Resplendant Quetzal.

Here are a couple of pictures from our team retreat near Lake Yojoa, taken at Finca Las Glorias.

A Ferruginous Pygmy Owl. Virgil and I spent at least half an hour tracking this guy through the woods, listening to his call and trying to answer back. Apparently my imitation was convincing. He flew right up to us, sat on his perch and had a nice long conversation.

The Belted Kingfisher. I took this picture through Virgil's awesome spotting scope. (If you want to get me another optical present, Ralph...)

First Rain!

It started slowly with a few drops and then gradually grew into a great, pounding rain. Andrew made some hot pinol (a corn based hot-chocolate-esque drink) and we sat out on our plastic chairs on the porch and watched the rain come down, washing the dusty trees and plants clean and sweeping the accumulated garbage down the gutters. I love rain! I just love it...especially after the hot dry season months, when you think it might never rain again here and everything is dry and brown, thirsty for water from the sky. We've been told that before the climate started changing here and the weather patterns were more predictable, the first rains of the year always came during the first week of May in Tegucigalpa. Our friend David went as far as to say they always came on May 3, every year, like clockwork (although I find this hard to believe... I mean, what about leap year?) It is very comforting to think that, this year at least, we are getting off to a normal start. I can imagine farmers all over will sleep a little easier tonight, and the city water board can rest assured that the water supply did not run out before the first big rain of the year, as predicted by the pessimists. It's starting again! The tinkling on the tin roof! Gotta love it.

The view looking up the stairs from our porch. We're happy that whoever designed this staircase included a little river to channel away the rushing rainwater.

Enjoying a hot cup of pinol.

This was a couple of days ago, but I thought I'd put it here anyway. Amanda cleaning out our pila, otherwise known as our mosquito farm.