While the political sparring has continued to ebb and flow back in Tegucigalpa, life has returned to normal again here in La Ceiba. The curfews have been late at night so not particularly burdensome and the police presence minimal. We have not missed any school and most people’s concerns are whether or not Honduras will qualify for the upcoming World Cup. Considering who their opponent is this coming Saturday, I will save this topic for Sunday evening.
Because everything had settled down, Mike, Betty and I were able to take a bus trip to San Pedro Sula for a diocese orientation for Americans teaching in Honduras Episcopal Schools. We were a little skeptical of the whole thing; it seemed that 5 weeks into the school year is a little late to be telling us about what to bring to Honduras. However, it ended up being a blessing in disguise right off the bat. We took off from school around noon on Friday to get to the bus station by 2:00. About an hour later, 3 cell phones disappeared and the secondary school went on lock down while they administration tried unsuccessfully to find the scheming serpent. Definitely a good afternoon to miss, even if it meant being on a bus for 3 hours.
We were met at the station by a woman named Barabara, a Texan in her 70s who has been in Honduras for 11 years. She is widowed with no children and decided to go to seminary school before relocating to Honduras as a missionary. The woman has had her leg horrifically broken twice since arriving and walks with a cane but never seems to miss a beat. She is a warrior in every sense of the word.
We were in earlier than the other teachers so she offered to take us to Price Mart. Mike and Betty were thrilled, as they have wanted to go for the past two years and nobody would take them. Think Costco shrunk in half. It is all bulk, brand name low cost products, mostly imported from the States. We loaded up on the essentials that cost an arm and a leg in La Ceiba: huge blocks of cheddar cheese, olive oil, and salsa. It was Christmas in October (complete with a 5 foot sing and dancing Santa with reindeer accompaniment in the kitchenware aisle for only $80… gross).
The four teachers from Tegucigalpa did not get in until 7:30 so they picked up dinner at Power Chicken (Honduran KFC) and we ate together in the breakfast room of the B&B where we were staying. It was an interesting variety of people. There was a 40 year old former actuary who teaches secondary math, a woman in her late 50s with grown children who had recently married a Honduran postal worker and teaches 2nd grade, and a retired couple from DC who were former school administrators in the Bedford school district. He teaches history and civics while she teaches 1st grade. We spent the meal getting to know one another, sharing strange and crazy stories about our students and discussing how little anybody knew about what this meeting was about. Most of the group had a beer at the bar afterwards but with all the traveling after a week of school, we all packed it in early.
The next day we had breakfast at the B&B then piled into the back of Barbara’s pickup truck and drove a short distance to the Episcopal compound where the Diocese offices are located as well as the flagship Episcopal school in Honduras that gives us most of our second hand books. It is huge and nicely finished but Mike and I think that Trinity will catch them in the next five years if things continue as they are going. It was encouraging to measure that progress but there is still a lot of work to do.
The actual meeting was more an extension of the dinner conversation. There were some interesting handouts but not a lot of structure so the conversation drifted to what people felt was most important, which I thought made sense considering the wealth of knowledge that everyone already had. We had lunch with the Bishop, who is the first native Honduran to ever hold the office and is a powerful yet soft spoken man. The Episcopal Church has doubled in congregations since he took the position in 2003.
Afterwards, we said our goodbyes, the Tegus folks joined the Bishop who was driving back to the capital and we went back to the bus station. Mike and Betty know the bus line very well and have met the owner several times. We saw him in the station, they struck up a conversation and the next thing I know, I have been bumped up to first class, free of charge. Not a bad way to finish off the trip.
Although I cannot say that I learned very much from the meeting, it was a good opportunity to share ideas and observations with teachers who shared my perspective as an outsider. We joked that every stage in life was represented there at the table: post college crisis, midlife crisis, late career crisis, and post retirement crisis. Only the 2nd grade teacher is planning on staying beyond this year. Honduras represents a transition period for everyone, a time of intense work in a new environment that challenges both mind and spirit that will eventually lead to a new direction with new perspectives. I feel in many ways like Jesus did when he went into the desert early in his life. Every day I am being questioned and tested, not out of malice but often out of mischief, as my students look to see where I might bend or break. I am finding it difficult at times to focus on the present because the future is still not clear and I am still weighing my options. But everyday I feel a little stronger, a little clearer, and a little more confident. I am in no hurry to leave the wilderness just yet, but I think that when I do, I will be ready for the next step.
1 comment:
A fine post, Jake. I hope writing is in your future.
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