This week has been an enlightening one. It’s so easy for me, the educated American girl who has known little tragedy in her life, to pass judgment on the Honduran people. I see the many problems they face and what, to me, seems to be logical solutions without stopping to consider the multiple obstacles they have had to overcome. How dare I pretend to understand the tribulations that these people have encountered? I’ve never known a hungry day in my life. I’ve never had to choose between feeding my family and getting an education. True, I’ve had to carry the burden of one murdered loved one… a tragic event that has molded me as a person and changed my life forever. Many of you know the same pain and fear I felt January 12th nearly 6 years ago. Imagine, if you will, multiple murdered loved ones – husbands, children, uncles, and friends. But you never get a trial or an arrest; you never know what happened, who did it, or why they did it. Imagine the void.
It’s not uncommon here to see children without fathers, siblings with different fathers, mothers without husbands, and children that are completely unruly. I’ve fallen into the nasty habit of assuming the women to be careless, the men to be irresponsible, and the children to be entirely undisciplined. Lately, however, I’ve been learning more about some of the students at my school. Here’s a glimpse at some of their stories:
Meet Jennifer. A mere 5 years old, shy little Jennifer is one of the smartest children in her class. Jennifer has an adorable smile and a sweet personality; unfortunately, she also has a family that can’t afford to look after her. Due to her young age, she only has class until 11:20; however, most days she spends the remainder of the morning in our class keeping busy until some random family member actually comes to pick her up (we’ve begun planning art for that time of the day to enable her to participate more). It’s a far too common occurrence for Jennifer to spend a portion of the day crying from stomach cramps because she’s hungry. Thursday, for instance, her lunch consisted of an orange, a bag of chips (which her sister stole from her), and a juice box. She has two siblings at the school: an older sister in third grade with a malicious personality and an older brother in sixth grade who is known for picking fights and stealing the younger children’s lunch money. I fear it’s only a matter of time until Jennifer, too, adopts the same bitter disposition of her siblings.
You’ve heard me talk about Sofia and Roberto before. Last Saturday was Roberto’s 8th birthday, so Jeremy and I went over to their house for a baleada dinner to celebrate. While we sat at the dinner table I talked to their grandmother, Doña Norma, about the family and some of the many trials they’ve had to endure over the years. The conversation started with Sofia and Roberto’s cousin, Emily, who is living with the family for the next few months with her younger sister and expecting mother. (Side note: this means that there are now FOURTEEN people living in their tiny, two-bedroom, adobe house!) Emily is 5 years old and looks nearly identical to
Yet another of Sofia and Roberto’s cousins stood at the door of the kitchen while we talked. Every now and then she would hobble into the kitchen to get a plate or glass for one of her family members in the living room. Doña Norma explained that she was diagnosed with a severe bone disease several years ago. She had spent two years in the hospital undergoing various treatments and now, at 16 years old, was heavily medicated and significantly behind her class in school. Norma kept referring to the girl’s mother as her “lost daughter.” When I asked her why she referred to her as such she explained that her daughter had tried to illegally migrate to the United States and was never been heard from again. No one knows what happened to her or if she’s alive.
The evening birthday party was void of cake or presents (as it’s essentially impossible to afford such luxuries when only one person in their 14-member household has a job). It was, however, full of giggling children, smiling faces… and tragic stories. I hate to think: if one evening in a house of 14 people revealed such heartbreaking tragedies about a mere four members of the household, what obstacles have the other 10 endured? And, beyond that, if these are only some of the tribulations of ONE family in Cofradίa, how many of my students have similar stories to tell?
Lately I’ve had a difficult time chastising my children in class. When Andrea refuses to stay in her seat and is, rather, at the board with her arms wrapped around my waist, I have a hard time telling her to sit down. We were supposed to go visit her house last Sunday night but had to cancel our plans after multiple warnings that where she lives is a “very dangerous” place where assault is highly common. Who knows what things she sees at her house during the afternoons while her single mother is at work? When Anyi tells one of her classmates that they’re full of sh*t, I don’t quite know how to punish her for something that I know she heard directly from the mouth of her father. How do I explain to Osman why I don’t like to be handed a drawing of two smiling men happily shooting each other? I suppose that in the states something like that might be frowned upon, but it carries so much more weight here. The things that they show on the news here – murder scenes, faceless victims, bodies scattered across the scene of a car wreck – are like being in a court room daily.
The things that these kids have seen and faced surpass the tribulations that any of us at home can imagine. The problems that they are forced to take on far exceed their maturity level and rob them of their hope and innocence at such a young age. Nonetheless, they still come to school every day with smiling faces, bouncing pigtails, and waist-high bear hugs. It never ceases to amaze me that, despite the poverty, hunger, and tragedy that the Honduran people have endured, they seem to remain continually content. These people are so much stronger than I give them credit for. I should not judge them; rather, I should admire their strength and perseverance.
For those of you that have actually stuck with me through the past two pages of introspection, I suppose I’ll continue a bit further with what I’ve actually been doing over the past two weeks. We have embarked on Christmas season here at
Jeremy and I have continued to make an effort to get to know the families of our children. We’ve now visited
On Thursday we had two soccer games versus San Jeronimo Bilingual School just down the street from us – colegio versus colegio and teachers versus teachers. Our colegio lost 3-2 in a shoot-out, but our teachers won! It was SO nice to play soccer again. I went from playing at least two days a week at home to not having played in two months! It was really a lot of fun. I hope that we can do it more after the break.
Last night Diede and I went to San Pedro with some of the instructors from the other school. We went to a bar called Klein
With the vacation only days away, I’ve finally decided what I’m going to do over the break: nothing. It completely blows me away that I am living in a country with such an incredibly low cost of living and am still completely poor. But, I’m actually looking forward to spending the vacation in Cofradίa. I’ve been invited to spend the holiday at a variety of homes, but I think I’ll spend the day at Doña Norma’s with Roberto, Sofia, and Emily. I am taking a short trip immediately after school ends to Belize to satisfy my visa requirements – you’re required to leave the “country” (which, due to their agreement, includes Honduras, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua) once every three months in order to avoid a fine. So, I am going to join a bus-full of fellow volunteers on a three-day excursion to
I think that pretty much sums it up. For those that are still with me (Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa…) I’m sorry to have burdened you with such a lengthy novel. I know it’s Christmas break, and the majority of you had no desire to read something so long. I hope you’re all doing well, and that you’re enjoying the holidays. I miss you guys, as always. ¡Besos, abrazos, y feliz navidad!
And a few more pics...
(Thanksgiving with Norma and the kids and cute pictures of a couple of my first-graders -- Melanny and Nicolle)
