bread!

I'm jumping ahead of myself in my blog sequence, as I should be writing about the end of my vacation at home with my family and the crazy trip from Orrville, Ohio to my apartment door in Santa Rosa in 13 hours.

 

But, you're going to have to wait because my first day back to work was awesome.

"What is this?" you must be thinking, faithful blog reader. And it is weird coming from me. But it was a really good day! My coworker, Oscar, missed me like crazy (his words, not mine) and we filled the morning catching up on what is going on--and we have a lot going on at ACDIM. Between training in bread-making and basic cooking classes for our women's groups, coordinating with USAID and starting some garden projects, scheduling all of our visits, a site visit with Heifer Project, meeting with contacts at the tech school in Santa Rosa...well, its all pretty exciting and keeping us on our toes.

We had a visit to Plan Grande scheduled in the afternoon (news to me) so after running around town, I grabbed a bite to eat (it's slim pickin' when you live alone and just got back from 3 weeks of travel!) and we headed to the campo.

A bit of back story--the group of women we visited today had received a 2 day intensive training in bread-making about 3 weeks ago when I was in Teguc for MCC stuff. I meant to post about that, but haven't gotten pictures up yet. You can check it out on ACDIM's Facebook page if you'd like (and "Like" us :). So, Oscar and I have been talking extensively about how we will get these micro-businesses up and running and how much we are going to have to encourage the women to commit to working hard.

The meeting started slow and we spent lots of time handing out the diplomas from the bread-making workshop. We made announcements about the next class they will receive in basic cooking and moved into the main topic for the day. The whole time the women are shuffling around and getting the snack ready for after the meeting. What they did not tell us until the very end is that we were going to enjoy bread they had made and that the rest of the bread on the table was for sale at 20 Lempiras per bag ($1). Then they told us this was the second week they had made bread to sell and they are using the profits each week to buy ingredients for the next. 2 women will be in charge each week so everyone shares equally the responsibility.

We were blown away! And so excited! We have been working hard to coordinate training and resources for our groups. The bread workshop was the first step, but we honestly thought it would be like pulling teeth to get them actually working together as a small business. Without a word to us they just...started! And the bread is delicious! And they have had no trouble selling (at least from what we know so far).

the bread! it is really tasty.

hamming it up with the diplomas

 If you know me at all, you know that this is what I get really passionate about. I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of these women. I know its a small start, just a drop in the bucket, really. But to see them take initiative and just jump in is really exciting for me and our organization. My hope and prayer is that this will be the start of something good for them. That they will be successful, one small step at a time. They are so humble, and many of them very shy, but you can see how proud they were to hold their diplomas and show off the bread they were selling. Gives me goosebumps!

Also, very randomly, as most things in Honduran life are, there was a man from a TV channel and his camera woman wandering around outside our meeting (we are in the boonies, ok...this is not common). And he ended up interviewing Oscar about our organization and what we are doing with the women in this community. I posed for a picture with their bread (ridiculous, I know...but at least I sold the man their last bag!!) Of course, ideally we would have loved the president of the group to be the one interviewed, but we are taking things one step at a time. A little publicity can't hurt their new enterprise, right??

the retreat to end all retreats

A few weeks I was invited to attend my church's women's reatreat. Growing up in the church, I had my share of "church retreat" experiences. From camps and conferences to youth and women's gatherings, I thought I had pretty much seen it all. Even since living in Honduras, I have had several youth retreat experiences and was pretty sure a women's retreat with the mennonite church in Santa Rosa was nothing I couldn't handle.

I can't actually imagine that I could have been more wrong.

It was...out of control. It was frustrating. It was moving. It was an intense 3 days, like nothing else I have experienced in my Honduran experience thus far.

First of all, I thought a women's retreat was for all the women of the church. What I learned is that women attend the retreat once and are good for life...once you have had your "retreat" experience you only go back to serve instead of receive. It is a chance to invite your un-churched, heathen friends to help them get their lives back on track.

So we started around 5:30 pm on Friday evening with 4 plenary sessions. By the time those were over, we were divided into 2 groups, had to come up with a "chant" for our group, and were forced to turn in our cell-phones. I was not a happy camper.

Then we got on a bus and headed to the chuch retreat center about 30 minutes outside of Santa Rosa. Once there, we had another plenary session or 2 (they all run together) and finally ate dinner around 9:30. We had more sessions after dinner with intense prayer times where most women were prayed over and slain in the spirit.

Late nights...early mornings...didn't even have a clock to know what time it was, which maybe helped. We had more plenaries in the morning, including a very long one from my boss, Ruth. After another time of prayer, tears, and much fainting, we had a time of worship where we were all required to dance around and sing about how free we were.

The afternoon included a session on dating, saving sex for marriage, and even a wedding! Little did I know things were just getting started. We had more sessions, more singing and dancing, all leading up to the evening dinner which was meant to be like a honduran quinceanera or what we would think of as a Sweet 16 party. All the women were honored, those who did celebrate their special birthday, and those who did not. We even danced with the birthay court, rocked in the rocking chair, and received our wedding rings to remind us of our purity covenant with God.

Then, on Sunday morning I was rudely awoken by the loudest music I have heard in very very long time, vey close to my head. I am not a morning person, and this did not amuse me in the least. What I thought was a prank from the youth group boys on night-watch turned out to be an intentional 4 am serenade to make us "feel like princesses." Let's just say that message was lost on me. In my kingdom, no one should wake me up before 7am.

So, that got my day off to a pretty bad start. Add to that not being able to go anywhere alone (yes, even accompanied to the bathroom), no down time from start to finish, continual bombardment with worship practices that are not familiar or comfortable to me and by Sunday afternoon I was done with this retreat. But, I still had to get through the last sessions on prophetic words for our lives, a bus ride back to town, singing most of the way, a rowdy welcome back to the church with a human tunnel, much dancing and balloon-popping, and being forced to share a testimony.

It is hard for me to adequately express how I felt after this whole weekend...I did enjoy some parts of it, and there were some good moments. The other women at the retreat were unique and interesting and we did develop friendships. Moreover, it is good to take time out of the normal routine to spend time with God, talking to Him and listening for his direction.

But I was frustrated by so very many things. For one, I do not like being followed around and forced to be with people 24-7. I am an extrovert, but I need my alone time (especially in the bathroom).

Secondly, I have adjusted to deep immersion in Honduran culture since I arrived, but I always need time to process what I'm learning/seeing/doing. Whether it is time alone to journal, a convo with my fellow ex-pats, or a sarcastic text to my BFF in Teguc...I need it! It keeps me sane. And most Hondurans do not understand this or know how to deal with my sharp tongue (I prefer sarcastic wit, but I digress).

Through it all, it is necessary to step back and look at this experience with a broader perspective. Church traditions are as complex as the culture they are wrapped up in, creating the diverse flavors of Christianity we find the world over. I am confident that my own church traditions would be equally intimidating/uncomfortable/puzzling for many of my Honduran friends.

And so I have to appreciate these experiences for what they are, taking advantage of the chance to get to know another culture more intimately, to learn more about myself, and to explore how I see God working in the not-so-familiar. While I don't relish the thought of another church retreat, I have to add it to my growing list of stretching experiences as I learn to appreciate the positive moments in spite of others that may drive me crazy!

home sweet home

could she BE any cuter?

I have been on US soil for almost 4 days now and I feel like time is flying. It has been great to connect with my family and get reacquainted with my favorite niece who is almost 1 whole year old!

Someone asked me how I can deal with the culture shock of being in one place for so long, spend a few hours on a plane, and drop right back in to the crazy, technologically-advanced, option-loaded life that is American culture.

And the truth is I don't know how I do it. It just happens. I move from one "life" to the "other" feeling like I have each foot in a completely separate world...one where I miss my family and friends, and the other where I learn and discover new things every day, immersed in a completely different language and culture. There are so many good things about both! And of course, there are frustrating/scary/difficult things in each respective location.

Since the shiny-newness of Honduran culture has worn off a bit, and I just returned to my homeland, I will list for you some observations that hit me in the first few days:

1) Americans are sloppy dressers while traveling. This will come to no surprise to many of you, but now that I have to put on earrings and cute shoes just to walk to the grocery store, my idea of "comfort" has changed. Hondurans dress up to go ANYWHERE. All I saw in the Atlanta airport were girls with shorty shorts, flip-flops, and pony-tails (nothing color coordinating, mind you) and I thought "You should go back to bed, child. What do you think you are doing in public?"

2) Toilet paper goes in the toilet. Common sense, I know, and something I did for the last 20-some years of my life before Honduras...but new habits die hard.

3) options OpTiOnS OPTIONS! Everywhere you go (mostly grocery stores) have an overwhelming array of options. An example: you go to the store, lets say for a cookie...first, there is an entire aisle of cookies... so you narrow it down to an oreo. now there is a whole oreo section with at least 13 varieties to pick from.  I cant even take it. Im pretty sure in Santa Rosa my oreo options are regular y dorada (white cookie choco center...).

4) cost of living things...food, gas, etc. Most prices seem to be comparable, especially in grocery items, and in fact gas in Honduras is much more expensive...but incomes are not comparable in Honduras. Monthly wages are much lower which drives the demand for more public transport and a very different living standard.

happy to see my poppa at the airport!

These are some very basic observations in my short time back, but its helpful for me to process the differences between my two cultures, from the funny and ridiculous to the serious and challenging things.

I am very grateful for the privelege of being able to travel, all the "luxuries" of home, and some restful vacation time with my family.




Here are some pics of what I've been up to. Hoping to blog soon about some more recent things that happened in my sometimes crazy and dramatic Honduran experience :)

first eats in the states: Taco Bell.
Yes you can cringe...but I love me a Crunchwrap Supreme at 11pm :)

starbucks love with my big sis

 

finally warming up to the aunt she barely knows.
 its ok. i'll soon be her favorite.

she's unimpressed by my photo-documenting of her life

soup!

Some of you know about my hatred for Honduran soup. It runs deep. It's always eaten on the HOTTEST days of the week, and you have to eat it with your HANDS! I know...soup--with your hands--you must be crazy!

BUT--I'm not the only one who feels this way. My good friend and cohort in the never ending quest to discuss, dissect and generally absorb all that we can regarding Honduran culture wrote a wonderful post about this very topic. Since we helped each other articulate these deep feelings, I feel good about reposting her excellent work. Enjoy.

[Oh, and check her blog. It's good too :) Elise's Blog: A View From Honduras]

I avoid generalizations about Hondurans, since I obviously don't know every single inhabitant of this beautiful land. However, I will take my chances with this one. Hondurans LOVE soup. They are obsessed with soup. Soup is their life blood. Seriously.

Hondurans can wax poetic about the qualities of a bean soup for at least 30 minutes without effort. Recently, a lady stared selling a different type of soup every day at work. We spend most of the lunch hour discussing the qualities of the tortilla soup, and planning which soup they'll order the next day.  

My host mom always tells me excitedly in the morning if she'll be making soup that day, and the whole family joins in the joy about the delicacy. 

I however, don't share these feelings. This is why: 

That's a typical Honduran beef soup. Do you see the CHUNKS of meat, corn, yucca and plantain?!?! That is NOT soup, that is broth with unmanageably large pieces of starch that I have to take extract from the burning broth with my hands, and then try to figure out how to eat without a knife in sight (you shouldn't need a knife to eat soup). 

In my cultural context, you eat soup with a spoon. It's a smooth, creamy, experience, to be eaten with bread and maybe lemonade. It's a great treat on a cold, winter day. 

Here, I am not allowed to eat my soup with bread (it has to be tortillas) and heaven forbid I drink a cold beverage with my soup (hot and cold things can't mix). To add insult to injury, soup is eaten on the hottest days (once again, can't mix hot with cold). 

Finally (I promise, this is the end of my rant), soup broth has so much lard in it, that washing a receptacle that has held soup is a nightmare. I often find myself angrily stabbing at a soup pot with my sponge taking out all my anger at the piece of plantain that I had to eat earlier in the day. 

Now, thankfully Honduras has so many wonderful things, that the difference between my cultural understanding of soup, and a Honduran understanding is minor in the scheme of things.  However, after I come home from a run on a hot day, I must admit, the piping hot seafood soup on the stove makes me want to go running in the opposite direction.

behind the times

Life has been pretty busy lately and I'm so behind in blogging (not to mention journaling!) Between moving apartments, spending an entire weekend away at a church retreat and a full week in Tegucigalpa visiting the host family, dealing with residency stuff and an MCC team meeting, I feel a little crazy. Oh yeah, and did I mention that I leave for a visit home in less than 2 days???!!!!

So, I will try to fill you in later. The church reatreat itself deserves its very own post...and I should write more about my immigration and residency fiascos. Oh, and of course MCC life. Hopefully when I'm on VACATION with my FAMILY I will have some time to catch up on the blog.

Here's a pic of the very best team anyone could ask for! Love you guys!!

MCC Honduras May 2012