home for christmas.

I'm finally home for Christmas.

One day of traveling to San Pedro, and then a whole day of flying. I got sick just before I left Honduras. The doctor in Gracias told me that I had bronchitis and treated me with steroids and nebulization. I visited my family doctor at home, and he was suspicious that I have pneumonia. The chest x-ray wasn't too promising, but now I'm on antibiotics, and I'll go back in for another x-ray next week. Hopefully it will come back with good news. Other than a wheezy, deep cough and some fatigue, I feel fine.

I'm just glad to be home, especially when I don't feel top notch. I'll be here until the beginning of January - short but hopefully sweet.

siempre navidad.

That's the name of our Christmas program. It's seemed a fun project at the onset, but now I'm pulling my hair out wishing it would be over and done with.

Each class has to learn a dance (Some grades are divided into two groups, girls and boys.), and I had to of course take on fourth grade, and Jacki and I tackled the eighth grade girls together. Now the eighth graders had a cute 80s aerobics number to a song called "Gloria," but while the rest of the school is doing disco, sock hop, and the hula, my poor fourth graders have to dance a polka number to the hokiest medley of "Home for Christmas" and "O, Christmas Tree" that you've ever heard. They cried when I first showed them their number.

To add to my kids' misery, we've been practicing every single day, and Wednesday and Friday were three- and four-hour practices at the church we're using as a venue. The worst is yet to come. Monday we have to be at the church from 7:20am until the Christmas program ends, and it is scheduled to start at 7:00pm. Then we have to teach regular classes the following morning.

Needless to say I'm not really looking forward to that. But if I look on the bright side, I'll be home for Christmas in a week.

looking forward.

I am looking forward to a few things when I come home for Christmas:

• Christmas lights
• sushi & Chinese
• a warm, non-moldy, non-leaking, clean bedroom with zero bugs
• carpet
• a car
• high speed wireless internet
• church
• friends & family (obviously)
• various restaurants (Panera, UNO's, Jimmy John's, Subway, Bazbeaux's, Skyline, even McDonald's)
• Mom's homemade pizza
• my puppies
• Target

shower.

Our shower broke this week.

Let me explain. That is not to say that we don't have running water. We do. When I say broke, I mean there's no hot water. People here think we're crazy for taking hot showers. They say cold showers are healthier, but we say screw that. We grew up on hot showers, and cold showers are chilling to the bone.

Our shower is heated by a little electric device. The water runs through it and is heated automatically. Sounds kind of dangerous, huh? We've never been shocked in our shower, but we have been shocked by a similar setup in a hotel. Anyway, no water heater here. Upside: unlimited hot water. Downside: if the electricity goes out (which happens often enough) or the little device breaks, there's no hot water.

So ours broke this week. We were without it for only a couple days. No tragedy, right? Except if you haven't showered in the days leading up to the breakdown of the shower head, a couple more days could be detrimental to the olfactory senses of those around you. So I resorted to this: a cold shower accompanied by a pot of water previously heated on the stove.

Así es la vida, my friends.

rubik's cube & toilets.

Fausto solved the Rubik's Cube last week. I bought him a bag of marbles as a reward today.

My bedroom walls are moldy. I'm sick as a result.

Turns out four girls sharing one bathroom with zero plungers in a foreign land with foreign foods is not a good combination.

I really wish I could watch the Yankees in the World Series tonight.

Click here if you want to see more of my pictures from Honduras.

grandpa.

My grandpa passed away this morning.

He suffered a major stroke last week, and he finally met his Maker in the early hours of this morning.

It's a tough/odd/unwonted thing to deal with from abroad. Never before have I lost anyone close to me. The thought of going home and not seeing Grandpa is bizarre to me. I'll never yell a conversation at him again. I'll never again receive one of his hand-me-down gadgets that I can't live without but he can. I'll never kiss his wrinkled, weathered cheek again. He'll never tell me how I used to when I was a tot cling to his foot while he walked around. I'll never again dance with him in the kitchen as he sings and leads. That makes me sad.

I'll miss my grandpa. I already do.

copan ruins.

The Copan Ruins were amazing to say the least. If you visit me in Honduras, I will take you there.

We had a day off school this week, so the girls and I took our extended weekend in Copan. Alex and Alyssa accompanied as well.

We visited a bird sanctuary called Macaw Mountain. There were parrots, macaws, hawks, and owls. I loved it. The birds were so beautiful.

At the ruins we climbed all over old temples and stood in awe, gawking at huge structures that still stood from the ancient Mayans.

october.

I miss October at home.

It's one of my favorite months. I love the fall. Turning leaves. Crunching leaves under my feet. Pumpkin patch. Corn mazes. Carving pumpkins. Hot cider. Candy corn. Crisp air. Scarves. The playoffs.

cold.

Achachay!

It was frigid this week. I know 50 degrees probably doesn't sound too cold, but let me explain something to you. My house is basically a closed in porch. My classroom has one wall of windows that are open.

I was cold to the bone, and I think that's only the beginning of the winter season here. I suddenly wish I had brought more socks.

Jacki and I used my blow dryer to heat up under our covers. And then we spooned and fell asleep that way.

contentment.

I will never tire of looking at the mountains around me.

Or the stars on a clear night. They're beautiful. I can't see stars like this in the Midwest. Last night the power went out for a little while, and with absolutely no lights to kill the view, the stars were breathtaking. I can't help but think about God's promise to Abraham when I see the vastness of the night sky.

These, among myriad other reasons, make me want to stay here forever.

the simple life.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the difference between my life here and my life back in the States.

Life here is so simple. What I once thought were necessities, aren't. What I thought I couldn't live without, I can.

At home I get in my car and drive to some megamart to buy prepackaged food that I take home and cook in the microwave and eat while I watch something that I DVRed all the while surfing the wireless internet and texting on my cell phone.

I thought I needed those things. But I don't.

I don't have wireless at my house; I have limited internet access the one or two times I head to town a week. I don't have a microwave; I have a tiny gas oven and no counter space for cooking. I don't have television, let alone satellite and DVR; my extent of entertainment is watching episodes of The Office on DVD on my computer (Thank you, Mom, for sending Seasons 1-5.). I don't have a car; I walk to town sometimes and hitch a ride in the bed of a friend's truck or a mototaxi most of the time. There's no Wal-Mart/Meijer/Whole Foods; my shopping is done at one of my student's parent's mini-mart and in the open air market.

If you had told me a few years ago that this would be my life, I would have laughed at you.

But you know what? I love it.

The simplicity of life allows for so much that I didn't know I was lacking. I have so much time to read and think and pray. Boredom is not a companion of mine, rather I find myself journaling out my extensive thoughts or exploring more extensively ideas that I would not have previously given more than a few moments' thought.

I am very thankful for the place in which I currently find myself.

lesly.

This is Lesly Beatríz. She prefers to be called Beatríz. Or Bea. But I call her Lesly.

I have a picture of my brother, Wesley, in my classroom. Lesly is in love with him. She calls herself my sister-in-law. I told her Wes was 27 years old. She said, "Only 18 years!" I told her he was married and that his wife was pregnant. She said, "I will...how do you say...robar?" She asks me every day if she can have Wesley's picture. And every day I tell her no.

lockdown.

The last two days were spent in the house because of a toca de quedo, a government mandate to stay in one's house, something of a permanent curfew. Mel Zelaya returned to Honduras a few days ago, so the country's been on lockdown. It was nice to have a couple days off school. Sleeping in feels good (When I say "sleeping in," I mean sleeping until 7:00 or so.).

You can read more about the situation here.

that which i did not expect.

I didn’t expect to fall head over heels in love with these kids. I am so in love with my children. They light up my life. They make my every day worthwhile. There are so many things that I love about my life in Honduras, but more than anything I love twenty-three little faces. I have learned a new love. I never knew I had the capacity to love in this way. I didn’t expect that.

I surely did not expect to bear their grief. I did not expect my heart to break over their heartbreak. I never expected to be so wrapped up in love that I would find myself in tears grieving over their life’s circumstances. I only wish I could bear their burdens for them. I wish I could take the brunt in their stead.

The Lord has blessed me abundantly, twenty-three times over.

fausto.

I'm in love with this boy.

traveling in honduras.

This weekend we traveled eight hours in bus to Tela, a beach on Honduras’ north coast. I got pinkeye, and because of my allergy to penicillin, I had to buy drops that are prohibited in the United States because four out of every 1,000,000 that use them die from anemia or something (Thanks for the info, Uncle John.). I hope I don’t die.

Traveling is always an adventure. There’s no telling what will happen. Maybe smelly clowns will want to make you destroy half of your senses so as not to see, hear or smell them anymore. Maybe a handsome stranger will make eyes at you. Maybe the police will stop your bus and demand to see the birth certificates of all the males. Maybe the bus attendant will try to flirt with you. Maybe your bus will break down. Maybe you’ll nearly melt in the heat of the bus when you’re seated by an emergency exit without a window. Maybe you’ll nearly pee your pants. Maybe some lady’s huge butt will knock you in the head. Maybe all these things will happen to you in one trip.

sick.

I got sick this week. It was not pleasant. Might as well be specific, right? It started with diarrhea. Then I got a consistent pressure headache. That was accompanied by a stomachache and the chills. And then my diarrhea turned into explosive, uncontrollable diarrhea. Yep. Needless to say I missed the following day of school.

Today I went back to school. I sprained my ankle on the walk to school. Great day.

football.

We went to a World Cup qualifying match in San Pedro Sula on Saturday - Honduras vs. Trinidad & Tobago. I have to admit - the game was a lot of fun, but waiting to go through the gate into the stadium was not. The crowd was so tight and so impatient. They had their hands in our pockets and wherever else they felt like putting them. They were pushing and shoving and yelling. The pressure I felt from the pushing could have easily caused an injury, but I walked away only having had a panic attack.

Apparently there was an error, and each ticket was printed twice. The police were present with pressured water and tear gas, and tickets weren't even being checked at the door.

I don't want to give the impression that I had an awful weekend. I had a great time in San Pedro, but I would never want to go through that again.

abigail.

This is Abigail.

She is three years old. She is the sweetest little girl. Every day when we're walking home from school, she spots us and runs down the mountain with arms wide open and greets us with hugs and kisses. She visits our house every day.

Her family wants her to start school at Vida Abundante next year when she's four, but she needs a scholarship. Jacki, Laura Beth, Rachel, and I have decided that if Vida Abundante doesn't provide her with a scholarship (which amounts to about $150 a month), we will gladly support this little girl. Want to help?

strobe lights & fourth graders.

The monster bugs are visiting less and less. It looks as if we are winning the war.

We had a dance party in our house last night. Hope the neighbors don't mind. Thank goodness I brought Maria's iPod dock and that Brookstone flashlight - it has a flashing function that serves as our strobe light.

I finished my first week of teaching. It was difficult for some, but I think it went pretty well. My kids are adorable. I want to hug them all day.

Here's a photo of some of my fourth graders (from left to right: Levi, Marvin, Fausto, Edgar):

I've sent out my first round of updates for what I'm calling "Prayer for Honduras." A number of friends and family from home have agreed to pray for one of my students this year. If you'd like to participate, let me know, and I'd be glad to send you updates on one my kids.

i'm a teacher.

Classes started on Monday. Without books I had to come up with fillers for the first two days, and even though books still aren't here, I went ahead and started curriculum today. Below is a picture of the kids playing a game of telephone (where you whisper something in the first person's ear, and they relay the message all the way down the line). Their first question was "What is whisper?"

Fausto's name was on the board on Monday with one mark (That means he had to spend his recess hanging out with me on Tuesday.) for tripping kids in class. Today one of the girls told on him for tripping, and I said, "Fausto, did you stick your foot out and trip her?"
"Nooooo," he said.
"Are you lying?"
He replied giggling, "Yes, I tell lie!"
I wrote his name on the board again.

incarceration.

The house we are living in is situated as follows: two bedrooms with a bathroom in between and something of a porch/living room/kitchen. The bedrooms have padded locks, but only one has an additional latching lock. Can you tell where I’m going with this yet? A few nights ago, Rachel shut the door with all the keys inside. We had already locked all three locks on our front door, so we were completely locked in our house. I had to call the principal at 6:30 in the morning, and then Humberto, a man who works at the school, came and broke us out of our house.

monster bugs.

We battle bugs. And that’s an understatement. It’s a full-fledged war against the bugs of Honduras. Our weapons of choice (most of which were inherited upon moving in):
• broom
• hair ties
• flip-flops
• sturdy walking stick
• rusty machete

Our living room windows were lacking a basic necessity to keep the monster bugs out: screens. The girls and I fashioned our own makeshift bug-blocking system. We tore the plastic off one of the new mattresses and covered two windows. The other window and the front door we covered with bed nets, which could probably be protecting children in Africa from malaria, but for now they’re helping me sleep at night. I’m sure they’re also helping our Filipino neighbors sleep at night. In response to our screaming fit, which in my opinion was legitimized because we were defending our precious lives against the murderous bugs, they came over to check on us, “You OK? I thought maybe there was snake.”

in gracias.

Finally in Gracias, we’ve started working at the school. The week was spent in orientation and decorating our classrooms full of cheesy posters. I have no idea what I’m doing. Classes start on Monday.

The school is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I don't have an internet connection up on the mountain, and the connection in town is slow, so I'll add photos later.

Jacki and I are supposed to move into this little yellow house up the mountain, but the roof is leaking, so we moved in with Rachel and Laura Beth. Our first few nights there were somewhat traumatic. The house was full of large spiders and various insect species. We quickly learned how to utilize the machete left behind by the previous inhabitant.

I’m a very inexperienced teacher, so I’ve been taking pointers from the teachers around me. Vicente told me that if my kids were bad, I could threaten to send them to China. He said, “They don’t really like the idea of going to China.”

first days.

San Pedro Sula welcomed me with a hot and humid rain on Tuesday. I arrived with the news that a peaceful protest had turned into a fire riot in Tegucigalpa. The following day the other teachers, our escorts from the school, and I rode there, avoiding a certain route because of a march in support of exiled president Zelaya.

Jacki and I are staying at the Lagos' house in Santa Lucía, a suburb of Tegucigalpa, while we get official business squared away with the school. The Lagos are very active administrators at Vida Abundante, and they are the sweetest, most hospitable people. Their house is as lovely as their family.

We spent our first evening here eating the most delicious meal and watching the Honduras vs. Costa Rica soccer game with the Lagos. I had forgotten how intense soccer is down here. I love laughing that hard.

Santa Lucía is a colonial town full of steep cobblestone roads and beautiful architecture. Jacki and I walked around yesterday and today and snapped a few photos.

We found some cute puppies during our exploration of Santa Lucía.

We took care of a lot of business yesterday in Tegucigalpa - background checks, bank accounts, cell phones, exchanging money from dollars to lempiras, etc. We spent most of our day at Vida Abundante with the other teachers. Signed contracts, took care of health insurance, and had a little orientation today. We leave for Gracias tomorrow.