Travel notes

Saturday, which was also September 11th though I didn’t really get a chance to reflect much on that fact, was our big travel day. I woke up a few minutes before four to finish getting my stuff completely ready and make sure my room was in perfect shape to leave. My host dad drove me down to the main street, with my 4 bags: the big rolling duffel, the smallish rolling suitcase, the zipper/rice bag I had bought in Talanga, and my backpack. I also had a big purse but we won’t count that. When the little bus (busito) finally pulled up at about five, a bunch of the Honduran men inside immediately jumped out and started loading my things on the carrier on top of the bus, in the back, under the seats. It was kind of funny. I said goodbye to my host dad and then we all drove about a hundred yards to the next stop, where the final three volunteers from our group were waiting. The Hondurans were looking nervously at all the luggage.

After lots of quick Spanish talking and surprisingly little arguing, decisions started happening fast. First, I thought we were all going to take busses and the busito was going with our counterparts to our sites. That was bad. Then we found out the counterparts had to go with us. Better. Then a PC person pulled up to talk things out with everyone. Helpful. We realized we could get a ride with him at least to Teguc. Better still. We all started picking through our bags and figuring out what we wanted to take with us for this daylong adventure. As the Hondurans talked and talked, we then realized some of us would be going in the busito. They loaded all the stuff from the roof rack inside and then assessed. Kristin and I were the chosen ones! Best news we’d heard all day. We got into the bus and somewhat sadly looked back at our poor friends. A few minutes before pulling away, Stephen and his counterpart were the last two honorees to get seats in the busito. I actually haven’t heard from any of the rest since that morning, so…I hope they all made it to Ocotepeque!

But the rest of us lucky ones spent ten-ish hours on a single busito, safe with all our belongings and counterparts. We took the very-long way (to get to Oco on decent roads requires first driving almost all the way to San Pedro Sula, then cutting back down), stopping at Burger King for breakfast (mmm, pancakes and ridiculously expensive tater tots), a gas station for a snack (Mountain Dew!!!!), and a comedor for lunch (I wasn’t really hungry so I just had some avocado and a tortilla). We all tried desperately to sleep, but it was pretty much useless. Between the tightly packed busito, the uncomfortable seats, the constant twists and turns and stops of Honduran highways, and the fact that we were surrounded by the people we would be working with the next two years…it’s safe to say we were awake the entire time. But it was still better than taking the regular busses!

We finally arrived in Ocotepeque, safe and sound, and I was the first one to be dropped off, right near the entrance of the bigger town that my site is an aldea of. We’ll call it Senti (you can’t possibly crack this code, trust me). My counterpart, Profe (short for Professor, which is what basically everyone calls him), kept his truck right there at a friend’s house and we were able to load it up with my things before hopping in to drive to the main part of the town. We stopped at Profe’s house, in a nearby aldea, to pick up his cute son. We then drove through Senti itself slowly, and Profe pointed out a few points of interest, including the internet place and the hardware store that doubled as my banking agent. We stopped so I could make my first transaction (yay money) and then headed straight up to my aldea, which we’ll call Cisco. The drive just to Cisco was stunning. I couldn’t stop taking pictures.

Then, Cisco itself. The views from way up there in the mountain are absolutely breathtaking (and I wouldn’t even see the best until two days later, when I went on a little hike with some new friends). It was incredible and I couldn’t stop exclaiming over the beauty I’d be living in everyday. We drove up and around and splashed through tiny rivers and drove up some more. The place is filled with huge hills, up and down, in every direction. As we went, Profe pointed out the health center, the road that led to the school, and the two kindergartens. We could see the huge Catholic church in the distance and I was in awe at the deep valley through the center of the town. We kept driving up and up and then reached my new house.

I got out of the truck with Profe and his son and went in to meet my new family. As I write this on Wednesday (I know, I’m backwards posting it on Sunday, sorry), I have just figured out tonight how everyone is related. So here is the overview of my family: my host mom, who is 65 and widowed, has eight children, but all of them are grown. Five of them are married and do not live in the house; four of those five live right in Cisco though. Between her five married children (four daughters and a son), she has nineteen grandchildren. iPuchica!, as they say here. I’ve met most of them at some time or another (almost all of them are school-aged and go to the centro basico) and they mostly seem fun and interested in me. Of the other three daughters (yes, if you’re keeping count, my host mom has seven daughters and one son…basically Boppy’s nightmare), two live in the house “full time.” They sleep here every night and work daily in the pulperia run by the family. These two are really nice and seem interested me; one especially likes to make conversation with me and is always patient with my Spanish. The baby daughter, who is 20, goes to university about an hour and a half away and comes home only rarely. She lives with another university student who grew up in their house but is technically cousins with all the other children, not sisters. She’s 24, studying engineering, and is very nice. She’s basically like a sister, just not technically. My host mom calls her her daughter.

But anyway, back to Saturday. I entered the house greeting my host mom and the one sister who is always home that I really like, we’ll call her Pammy. They both greeted me with hugs and hellos and were very friendly. They brought me right to my room, which is connected to the back of the house. You have to go outside a bit to get there (but it’s under the roof so you don’t get wet) and you can enter the yard through a locked gate if you don’t want to talk to anyone. Essentially, it’s perfect in that way. It has its own bathroom and was very nicely set up with my own bed, mini desk, and small table with a shelf. The “closet” consists of one hanging bar, 3 hangers, and a shelf. The whole room is perfect, just very small. I think that’ll be the main reason I’ll be looking for my own place in two months. Otherwise, I really like everything and living with my family.

So after setting my stuff down, I wanted nothing more than to just lay down – even a half hour would’ve helped so much – but everyone started getting things and Profe told me he wanted to take me on a driving tour to show me the rest of the town, which included the library and the school. I obliged and we were eventually off, with Pammy and Profe’s son in the bed of the truck. We drove around some more, but it was getting dark by this point so I didn’t get to see quite as many astounding views. When we arrived at the library, there was a bunch of people waiting outside, which didn’t alarm me at first. We went in, greeting everyone, and I marveled at the library, which is really a great space (pictures coming soon). Slowly though, I realized people were all getting ready and assembling and then I realized it was a welcome party for me.

The little party was super sweet and so thoughtful and decorated with balloons and posters and finished off with food and drink. It was so nice. But after ten hours in a bus and five hours of sleep and meeting an overwhelming amount of people in a short time…I was not exactly ready for it all. I also looked a mess, in my rumpled and smelly travel clothes. But I did my best, smiling so much my face hurt and even gave a little impromptu speech when necessary. It would not be the first time I was embarrassed in front of a group of people as Profe talked about how prepared I was and listed my degrees. After the speeches and introductions, it was small talk time for a bit while they got the food and drinks ready and soon we were all eating tamales and drinking coffee (very last thing I wanted) and talking about the library. By this point, I was so tired and felt so disgusting that I couldn’t even be bothered to care much. I would’ve yawned on purpose a few times to show how tired I was, but my body was already doing that naturally and Profe was just as tired. We left soon after that, as it started to rain.

When I got back, Profe left, telling me I had tomorrow to relax and do my own thing and that I should come to the school with the students on Monday. Perfect. When I got inside, I knew I couldn’t go right to bed no matter how much I wanted to. My host mom insisted I eat something and when I started eating, I found I was ravenous. I ate my chop suey (what they call basically a lo mein plate) with vigor, and confirmed that the mother is, indeed, a great cook. They encouraged me to go to bed after that and I gratefully did.