Todos están enfermos/Everyone’s sick

The clinics here on the ranch have seen their share of patients in the last couple weeks. About two weeks ago, the tap water (that we get from la posa/pond) had a brown, coffee-looking tinge to it. Soon after, the clinic declared that the water had bacterias and was unsuitable for drinking. Since then the ranch has been in a “water crisis” and has brought in truckloads of AguaAzul purified water to do all the cooking and drinking. But it was too late for many kids, employees, and volunteers on the ranch. Many came down with stomach problems, diarrhea, and vomiting. The clinic ordered the cocina/kitchen to follow a strict menu (a.k.a. “ranch diet”) to prevent more people from getting sick and to treat the people who were already sick. In the past week we have had a lot of tortillas, fruit, and bread, but not much else. One night we had plain pasta and a boiled plátano/plantain for dinner. It has not been tasty. I am lucky to report that I have not had to go to the clinic; however, my stomach has been bothering me and I’ve gone a few nights with sleep interrupted by having to go to the bathroom. In fact, I stayed home from work today because my stomach was so upset (and I did not want to linger too far from the bathroom).

On top of the seeming ‘epidemic’ on the ranch, we dealt with another emergency yesterday. Kris, the volunteer art therapist from Belgium, has not been feeling well for about two days now. She had been to the clinic twice, but all lab results came back normal. Yesterday around noon, her roommate Monica found her passed out in the room. She could not wake her up at all. The nurse, doctor, and a few other volunteers came to help. Still nothing. It had been about a half an hour and she was still lying on the floor unconscious. The doctors decided to take her to a private hospital in Tegucigalpa, Hospital San Jorge. They brought the ranch “ambulancia” to Casa Personal and carried Kris inside. Monica, Nora (the Honduran nurse), Annemarie, Gerardo (German doctor), and me were all going. Then Carl hopped into the driver’s seat. I don’t know what came over me, but I just felt that there were way too many people going. I felt helpless in the situation and that I was just taking up space. Why was Carl going? Just to drive? I offered to drive, seeing as how I had my Honduran driver’s license and I wanted to help out in some way. What was I thinking?! It was an in-the-moment decision. When I began pulling out of the ranch, it started to hit me...I have never driven a stick-shift, piece-of-crap ambulance before! Not to mention being responsible for all the passengers, driving on pothole filled Honduran roads, and having to drive through the congested, poorly designed city of Tegucigalpa in a busito/little bus. Shit!! Oh well, too late now.

Getting there was fine. Kris regained consciousness in the ambulancia. When we arrived to the hospital, we checked Kris in, they did some blood work and decided to keep her overnight for observation and to do some more tests. Monica stayed with her. It was actually a really nice hospital. Kris had a private room with a bathroom (hot water), air conditioning, cable TV, and a nice view. Not too shabby for a developing country. There was not much more the rest of us could do, so we headed back to the ranch -- with me in the driver’s seat.

I had to back the ambulancia out of a parking garage. I was a little nervous and under pressure, but backed out no problem. It wasn’t until we had to pull-out of the parking garage and into the street that the problems arose. The way I was coming out of the parking garage I was situated to turn left. The parking attendants came running out and let me know I couldn’t go left since it was a one way street. So, I had to back up to maneuver myself to be able to turn right. Pulling out was tough. The street was very narrow, there were cars parked all along both sides of the street, and the entry to the parking lot was a steep, sandy curb. Well, my first try out of the parking lot was unsuccessful. I had to do many three-point turns. This is where it got even harder. The ambulancia has no power steering; so for me to turn the wheel required all of my muscle strength. Annemarie and the parking lot attendant both had to reach over and help me turn the wheel each time. I was sweating! Then the parking attendant guy was trying to help me by yelling “dale, dale, dale”/go, go, go. It was stressing me out. So, after many muscled three-point turns, I found myself in an Austin Powers predicament – I could not go forward or backward. So, I eased, coasted, tapped, whatever you want to say into the parked truck in front of me. I then was able to push off the truck and was able to back out and get on the road. Just a friendly tap. When I backed off the truck (which was a typical Honduran truck – rusted, dented, chipped, missing windows, etc.) the parking attendant starting yelling at me and pointing at the truck asking what I was going to do about that. I didn’t see anything at all on the truck. I did not cause damage to that truck that wasn’t already there. So, I kept going. When I looked into the rearview mirror I saw the parking attendant noting the license plate number of our ambulancia. Great. Here I am trying to be a good volunteer and now this! God! I was a little freaked out as to what may happen. Not to mention on the way out of the city I stalled out going up a really steep hill – that was embarrassing.

Oh well. We made it back all in one piece. Kris’ lab work all came back normal, so she is returning to the ranch today. Still not sure what is wrong with her though. We’ll see what happens.

I hope the ranch never calls on me to be an EMT ever again (or I don’t open up my stupid mouth to volunteer).

Fotos

I have finally figured out how to resize, edit, and post pictures onto my blog...yay! Just so you all know and for those of you who are interested (and/or want to waste some time), you can scroll through past blogs and enjoy the newly posted photos.

Here, yet so far away...

Well, I have three more months to go here in Honduras. Crazy to think that I’ve been here for 10 months. I should be enjoying the moment, having fun in my job, relishing this great experience and adventure. However, recently I’ve been doing more planning and preparation for when I leave, that at times I feel like I’m already gone.
I blame it partly on my job responsibility of Volunteer Coordinator. In reading applications and making decisions for new volunteers arriving in August 2007 and January 2008 (when I won’t even be here!) it’s really taken me out of the moment. It’s advanced my mentality in getting ready to leave.
Also, since I will be returning home close to the beginning of the 2007-2008 school year, I’ve been having a few phone interviews to hopefully have a job waiting for me as a school-based speech-language pathologist when I get home. I’m interviewing in school districts in Kent County, Michigan...I’ll keep you posted on what happens. It’s exciting and hopeful to know that I may have a job when I get home, but it’s causing some stress and worry now.
I’ve also begun planning my “despedida”/going away party for my hogar. This is a tradition on the ranch, and over the years has become quite a big deal. I will be writing future blogs with my ideas and plans as they develop.
To make the end even more of a reality, I’ve booked my flight home. I will be flying home to Detroit, Michigan on Friday, August 17 2007. Exactly three months from today. My plan is that I will leave the ranch on Saturday, August 11. I will then bus it to Copan, Honduras where I will be doing a four-night yoga retreat at Hacienda San Lucas. I am so excited for this. This is my reward to myself for all I have done and gone through this year. The package includes a four-night stay at Hacienda San Lucas, daily yoga classes, two massages, a guided meditation, and organic, vegetarian meals. I also plan on having a spa day at the hot springs.
As you can see, there are many preparations and planning that have already gone into my departure. Maybe it is a good thing though, and will make it an easier transition for when I leave. Now that the most important things are taken care of, I am hoping I can sit back, relax, and enjoy the next three months!

“Se Cayó el Sol”/The Sun Fell

The past two days the boys here on Rancho Santa Fe have been very busy...putting out wild forest fires. We are in the end of the dry season right now, meaning that everything is brown, dry, and hot. It is not uncommon to see brush fires and charred land as you drive along the carretera/highway. From a distance when you are in a car or bus, no problem; however, the fires came too close for comfort this time.

I was in hogar on Tuesday night hanging out with my girls. As I was leaving I saw a parade of boys heading out towards Tamalequeso (a nearby pueblo). They were all carrying machetes, shovels, hoes, and some carried canisters of water on their backs. They were off to fight a forest fire -- ranch style! I did not think too much of it and continued on with my evening. The boys had been called upon in the past to do the same thing. The next morning when I woke up to do sunrise yoga on the roof; I noticed that the roof was covered in ashes. Guess the fire was pretty close. Wednesday continued on as normal: went to school, did some therapy, and then headed up to the internet right before lunch. As I reached the internet the air was really thick, smoky, and the sky had a weird light to it. I saw Annemarie and she informed me that the fire was back, and this time it was dangerously close to the tías/caregivers’ homes. I couldn’t see the flames, but I could hear them, and I could see the smoke as it spread across the ranch. Was this normal? The boys headed out again – this time boys from the younger hogars were called upon as well. Some of the volunteers went out too. Today was different from the night before because the wind was blowing, which caused the fire to spread more rapidly and was more dangerous for the boys to control. I couldn’t go out to help because I had a speech-language evaluation to do back down at the school (but I’ll go more into that in another blog entry).

That evening, when I went to hogar everyone was still talking about the fire. At this point, you could see it rising up the mountain behind the church, close to Casa Personal. I decided that after hogar I was going to help out. These boys were so exhausted, having been fighting the fire since the night before! I quick put on long pants, tennis shoes, filled up my water bottle, and put on my head flashlight. Here we go...Bombera/Firefighter Sara to the rescue!

A few of the boys led me up to where the fire was. One of them commented “se cayó el sol”/the sun fell. That was a good image, because when we reached the fire that’s exactly what I saw. I have seen wild forest fires blaze out of control on television and the news, but never have I seen anything like this in real life. Words can not describe it. It was beautiful, scary, incredible, huge, expansive, sad, devastating, humbling, everywhere.

At this point, the boys were not fighting the fire, as much as they were trying to control it and keep it from spreading to the ranch. The way they did this was by setting fire to a perimeter apart from where the fire was burning. They set the fire, put water on the edges, and then put the fire out. This way, when the wild fire reached the controlled fire, it would extinguish because it was already burned. Crazy that you have to set a fire to extinguish a fire. I told the boys how wildfires were put out in the United States, with airplanes. They couldn’t believe it knowing that they did it with just their “manos”/hands. It was nice being up on the mountain at night with a group of the teenage boys. I don’t get to hang out with them that much seeing as how I am always with my girls. In our down moments we sat down, I gave them water, and we chatted. One boy, Francisco (a.k.a. Chico) commented: “Perdón la palabra, pero éste fuego está jodiendo la capa ozonio”/Pardon my language, but this fire is fucking up the ozone layer. Gotta love em!

Update on Pucha

On April 19, 2007 Pucha (my cat) gave birth. It is a crazy story. At about 3:00am Pucha I woke up and found Pucha in bed with me. Before this was no big deal, she always sleeps with me. However, since Pucha has been pregnant she wants nothing to do with me, or anyone for that matter. So, when Pucha started cuddling up with me in bed, I knew something was up. She was extraordinarily affectionate: purring, rubbing up against me, and rolling around. This is my first experience with a pregnant cat, so I have no idea what the warning signs are for a cat in labor. After about a half an hour of Pucha being nice and cuddly, she began to pant and I could tell that every now and then she would give a little push. Eventually, she also began meowing, which woke my roommate Eva up. At around 4:00am Pucha’s behavior became even weirder. She started tossing and tumbling and the pants, pushes, and meows were more frequent. I could feel that it was about to happen. I looked down and saw that a tail was beginning to make its way out. This freaked Pucha out, which in turn, also freaked Eva and me out. In addition to the tail peeking out, blood also starting coming out; so Eva and I maneuvered Pucha down onto the floor. The scene that followed will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Pucha started jumping and tumbling around, while at the same time making some really weird sounds. Within seconds, minutes, I’m not really sure; she had given birth to a kitten (a small, wet, ratty looking thing). Our room was splattered in blood and some of our clothes in the closet got a little messy as well, but we both sighed and relaxed a little when it was all over. Pucha began cleaning the kitten and tending to it. We made the two of them comfortable in a box with some of Eva’s sheets that were a victim of Pucha’s birthing. We knew that there were more kittens waiting to be born, so we wanted to contain Pucha as much as possible. Eva and I didn’t sleep much after all the excitement, but it seemed as though Pucha was done for a while. According to Eva’s mother, who lives on a farm in Austria, there can be a long lapse between the birth of the first kitten and the rest. In the morning, Pucha kept bringing the little kitten to Eva and my beds. The kitten didn’t do much; wasn’t making any attempt to take Pucha’s milk or anything. What did I know?! We left the next morning to go to work and locked Pucha, the kitten, and the box up in the bathroom. This way if she were to give birth while we were gone, the damage would be minimal and contained in a small space. I came back after lunch and Miguel (another volunteer from Austria), asked to see the kitten. I took him into my room, thinking maybe we’d find more than just the one. Nope. I opened the bathroom door and Pucha ran out. The items on my shelf were all knocked down on the floor and I could not find the kitten. All of I sudden I heard Miguel let out a shout – there was a kitten head on the floor! The rest of the body was completely gone. We both stood in complete shock for a while and came to the conclusion that Pucha had eaten the kitten. Is this normal?? As word spread throughout Casa Personal, we all were really confused, grossed out, and in awe. Eventually, I put the head in a plastic bag, cleaned up my things, and stopped trying to figure out what had happened while we were gone.

Later that day (almost 12 hours later), Pucha gave birth to two more kittens. This time it was head-first, much quicker, less messy, and less noisy. I guess this is how it is supposed to happen. This made us start to consider that in the animal world maybe it’s normal to devour your baby if it comes out wrong. If anyone has any insight, please let me know. Later that night when we came home from hogar, we found a third kitten had appeared. All three were sucking away (another good sign). Many volunteers came over to see the new kittens, take pictures, and check to make sure they were all alive and accounted for.

The next afternoon, 36 hours after Pucha first gave birth, a fifth kitten was born. This one came out tail-first, just like the first poor kitten. We could tell it didn’t have a chance right away. It was smaller than the others, its head was deformed, and it couldn’t maneuver itself to reach Pucha to drink milk. The next day, I found the kitten, dead. At least this time Pucha had the decency to bury it underneath a blanket. Out of sight, out of mind.
To let you know the results of the Casa Personal bet, it’s pretty complicated. Do we count live babies, total babies, or half babies? Dani bet on three-and-a-half kittens. Do we consider when she first started giving birth, or when she finished? In the end, the fact that Pucha ate one of her babies and left us a head nulls and voids all bets placed. In the end, we have three healthy, cute, and cuddly kittens. They will stay with Eva and me for about two months and we already have owners who are waiting to claim them. Only in Honduras....

Por Los Niños

I’ve got a few things to catch up on in blog writing; but I just got back from a very memorable weekend that I just have to share now.

Two weeks ago Tess, Rob, and I caught a jalón/hitchike from Tegucigalpa to the ranch from a very Southern couple from Texas, Les and Jeannell. First impressions were that they were very nice; going out of their way to move all their groceries and shopping bags into the cab of the truck so that we could sit inside. As we got going, we learned that they had been in Honduras for three years. They are directors of an orphanage in Catacamas called “Por Los Niños”/For the Children. Les is a preacher as well. We started comparing our orphanage, NPH, with theirs. There are many differences. Here are a few:

NPH: 600 kids, PLN: 38
NPH: ages 8 months – 30-years-old, PLN: does not accept children over the age of 6-years
NPH: institution-type living (3-story bunk beds, large dining room, very much community living), PLN: three homes, each child shares a room with 1-3 other kids
NPH: tíos/tías act as caregivers, PLN: each home has a mother and a father, a real married couple, their kids live there too
NPH: been around since 1956, PLN: been around maybe 10 years or so
NPH: lots of the kids have HIV/AIDS, PLN: will not accept children with HIV/AIDS, or any kids who have behavioral problems for that matter

They were a very friendly couple, very open and chatty. When we arrived to the ranch we exchanged contact information with the plan being that we may come visit them sometime.

Well, that’s exactly what I did this weekend. Julia and I left the ranch Saturday morning heading to Catacamas. We caught a jalón from the ranch to Guaimaca, which is about 45 minutes away. In Guaimaca we waited for another jalón. When we found one they said they were only going as far as Juticalpa, but we hopped in thinking we would find a third jalón to get from Juticalpa to Guaimaca. When we arrived in Juticalpa, our jalón told us they would keep going the extra 30 kilometers to drop us off in Catacamas...very nice.

We found Les and Jeannell’s house and were welcomed with open arms. Talk about “Southern hospitality”! Jeannell has a little Chihuahua-looking dog named Biscuit. He welcomed us too, with his loud barks. Their house is in the city of Catacamas and used to be a medical clinic. Les and Jeannell only use the back three rooms of the house as their home and the other rooms are set-up as guest rooms; each having one or two beds, towels, shampoo, a ceiling fan, and a bathroom (with hot water).

Julia and I got settled and then joined Les and Jeannell in their kitchen. Wow. Upon entering their kitchen I felt like I was back in the States. A refrigerator full of magnets, pictures, newspaper clippings; a pantry full of American food; and little apples painted on the walls.

The main attractions of Catacamas are the Cuevas de Talgua/caves. Les and Jeannell offered to take us there and explore the caves with us. That sounded great seeing as Julia and I had no idea how to get there. Before heading out though, they offered us lunch. Out came loaves of bread, cold cuts, mayonnaise, mustard, pickles, chips, candy bars, and a variety of pop...heaven. We had a nice American lunch then Les packed up a cooler with bottled water and we headed out. He gave us a driving tour of Catacamas, which is actually quite large. Catacamas is in Olancho, which is known as the “Old West” of Honduras. It is very dusty, cattle are everywhere, and people walk around in cowboy hats carrying machetes and guns. Les and Jeannell kind of fit in because of that I think, with their thick Southern accents.
When we arrived, Les paid for Julia and my entrance fee (these people are too much!). We hired a guide and we ventured into the cave. I had never gone into a ‘real’ cave before. It was pretty cool. Before Hurricane Mitch hit in 1998, visitors used to be able to hike about one kilometer into the cave and then go up a ladder, which led to a burial ground. This is the oldest burial ground in Central America, with the bones dating back to as early as 1000 B.C. (before the Mayans even). The bones are preserved because of all the calcium droplets that fell onto them. Plus, the calcium gives the bones a phosphorescent glow. That’s what the guide and the guidebooks say, but since the cave has not yet been repaired since the hurricane, we did not get to see them firsthand. It was still pretty cool; brought me back to tenth grade Earth Science class with Mr. Gribas talking about stalactites and stalagmites.

After seeing las cuevas we headed back out in the truck. We stopped on the side of the road to buy about 8-10 sandías/watermelon to bring to the aldea/village (how they refer to the orphanage). The aldea is situated just outside of the city and is right on the street. The yard is surrounded by beautiful pink flower bushes. When we arrived many of the kids started running towards us in the truck. While to many this would be a special moment, I am so used to kids running at me that I didn’t think twice. It wasn’t till we started serving the watermelon that I began to see the differences in NPH kids and PLN kids. These kids waited their turn to get watermelon, were very polite and patient, and when they reached the rind of the watermelon they set it aside until one of the kids came along with a trash bin. This was impressive. I am used to the kids on the ranch tackling one another to get food, cutting in line, and screaming and shouting. When NPH kids get to the rind of the watermelon, they don’t stop...they keep eating, until it’s all gone. After serving one piece of watermelon to the kids there was still watermelon left over. On the ranch, the tía would yell out “doble”/seconds, and all the kids would come dashing for more. Here at PLN, when Jeannell offered a second piece to the kids, many declined with a polite, “no gracias”/no thank you. I was shocked.

Les gave us a tour of the aldea, which didn’t take too long because it is so small – PLN consists of three homes, a bodega/store room, maintenance shed, and a school that’s in the process of being built. There are also some gardens and playing areas for the kids. As I mentioned earlier, about eight to ten kids live in each home. These homes are huge, bigger than the size of one hogar/home here on the ranch (note: one hogar = about 25 kids). They are also much newer. Whereas on the ranch the kids all sleep in a room full of three-story bunk beds, at PLN each child shares a bedroom with two to three other kids (a big bedroom with nice beds). They also share a bathroom that has real toilets, real sinks, and real showers (unlike what we have at the ranch). This is five-star Honduras living. Each home has a kitchen, playing/living area, and in the back live the parents. The parents are paid employees who take care of the kids. However, unlike the ranch where they come and go as employees do, the parents are a married couple who permanently reside with the children. The kids even call them “mom” and “dad” (well, in Spanish of course). I have to say, I was quite impressed with their facilities.

After our aldea visit, we headed back to Jeannell and Les’ home to shower and relax. In the evening, Julia and I helped Jeannell make dinner. We made a chicken salad with canned chicken, pineapples, raisins, apples, and mayonnaise. We served it up with crackers and pop and it was a pretty good, easy meal. Les served cookies and candy bars for dessert. Afterwards, we spent the entire evening just sitting around the kitchen table and talking. We stayed up until 11:00pm just chatting away. These are amazing people. I felt like I could’ve been staying up talking the night away with my parents. I think they might have felt the same about us, as they have two children back in the States; a daughter who is 24 and a 21-year-old son. Jeannell admitted to us that she likes to “take care of us” since she is not able to be with her own children. The next morning, Julia and I awoke to find the kitchen table all set for us with Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, pop tarts, oatmeal, and....COLD MILK. Wow, it was delicious. What a difference cold milk makes on your cereal. It really is the small things in life that make you happy. On the ranch I use powdered milk with warm bottled water. It’s that or the ranch’s hot whole milk that comes directly from the cow. Yuk! After breakfast we joined Les, Jeannell, and all the kids from the aldea to go to church. We first stopped at the aldea to pick up the kids. They all jumped into the cab of the truck – it was packed with kids. We headed to a neighboring pueblo called Sosa. They do not have a church yet, so each Sunday someone offers their home to hold services. This Sunday a very old woman (I’d say about 80-years-old) with long gray hair and a million wrinkles invited everyone in to her one-room house. The house was about as big as a dorm room, had mud floors, and a tarp to separate the bedroom from the living room. The ceiling had light leaking through the cracks and holes and there was one light bulb. More than 50 people squished into this teeny, tiny house, some of us being lucky to have a plastic chair to sit on. The mass itself was very impromptu with random people standing and reading from the Bible, singing songs, and making up sermons. For Communion, we used tortillas and Welch’s grape juice. It dawned on me during this makeshift mass that this is why I’m here. How much more of a cultural experience can you get?! I was very humbled by all of this.

After mass, Les and Jeannell invited Julia and I out to lunch. We went to the local Texaco gas station, which is the Sunday hang out. This Texaco had a gym for kids to play in, a restaurant, clean bathrooms (with toilet paper), and a great convenience store with lots of American products. I’d say that this Texaco was better than any I had ever visited in the U.S. Les and Jeannell treated us to pizza and pop. Yum! It was so good – better than all the Pizza Hut I’ve had in Tegucigalpa. Who would have thought that a gas station would have such good food?!

After lunch, we returned to Les and Jeannell’s house and Julia and I packed up our things. We left a thank you note on the night stand, along with 400 lempiras “por los niños”/for the children. I walked around their house outside and saw they had a huge mango tree. Jeannell brought me a plastic bag and helped me gather the fallen mangoes to take home. Man, I love mangoes! To top off the enormous generosity this couple has offered us all weekend, they both (along with Biscuit) drove us the two-and-a-half hours from Catacamas back to the ranch. They really are incredible.

I have been telling the volunteers that they all need to visit. This couple really deserves the Noble Peace Price and a seat on the Oprah Winfrey Show. Their Southern hospitality, genuine spirit, open hearts, and dedication to the children have left a lasting impression on me. We really are here “por los niños”.