The Day of the Children

September 10th 2009 9:36pm

When I got to work today, I found out that today is the "Dia de los Ninos" or Day of the Children. It is a lot like father's day, or mother's day, but with more toys. I remember asking my parents once (on a Mothers or Fathers Day) when Kids day was, and they told me that every day was kids day, which for the most part I believe is true. I think the kids here need a kids day though. A lot more than I did as a kid at least.

During the morning commute, Freddy and I discussed the possibility of us getting motorcycles. They aren't the big ones that they have in the United States, they are more like mopeds, but they zip in and out of traffic, have really good gas mileage, and are easy to maintain and keep. They also allow a sense of independence around and more importantly outside of the city. It would be a while before I would be able to get one, but I'm definitely considering it.

We got to work shortly after 8, and Betzabe was the only one there. As soon as I greeted her hello, she told me that she had a word of the day for me. I laughed because she usually has to think all day to give me one, but today she came prepared.

I then got to work on translating my work for the class this Saturday. There are so many grammatical rules that I have yet to understand, and they are killing me. The regional colloquialisms are also hurting me. For example, a game (like a futbol game) is called a "partido". A "partido" also means a part or a section. This past week, I have been asked when I'm going to watch the part. The part of what? It made no sense to me for a while until it was more elaborately explained to me by Marisela.

Because I did not have time to write, check email, or facebook last night, I decided to do all of those briefly this morning. When I was on facebook, Heidy came over to where I was working to talk, and saw the webpage I was on. We talked for a little bit about what facebook was, and how it could be used, and she went right over to her desk and set one up. By the end of the day, she was up to two friends.

I worked for most of the morning on the translation that will inevitably be torn apart tomorrow by Marisela. For lunch, we spent about 30 lempiras, or $1.50 on a plate with rice, beans, meat, and 5 tortillas. It was very filling. Throughout lunch, Elmer told a lot of cheesy jokes along the lines of: A horse walks into a bar and the bartender says, "Why the long face?"

Because they were all based on turns of phrases in Spanish, I was completely lost. I did enjoy when he acted out a small child who had to go to the bathroom. After the meal, we were all sitting around talking, and everyone got into a discussion on everyone else's significant others. I had nothing to say, so I kind of zoned out a bit, and Nancy called me back to reality by asking if I was bored. I said only a little and she told Elmer that we needed to do more activities, and go more places. I was confused as to if that was a normal cure for conversational boredom, until I realized that she asked me if I was bored at work.

Elmer decided to act promptly, and the two of us walked down to the Seminary, where he disappeared into a storage closet and returned with two unassembled wheelchairs. "Lets build these!" he exclaimed.

"Yea! Let's do it!"

We spent the next hour or so putting together the two wheelchairs. When we pulled out the materials for the first one, a little girl came up to us from the playground at the Seminary and began talking with us. She was very inquisitive and wanted to know if I spoke any Spanish. I told her some, but that she probably knew more than I did. It was my first interaction with a kid from Tegucigalpa. She said her name was Luz, which means Light.

Elmer and I talked with Luz throughout the time spent building wheelchairs. I asked Luz how old she was, and she said 8. I asked her how old she thought I was and she said 21. Elmer almost dropped his wrench. Elmer asked her how old she thought he was, and she said 42. (Which was pretty close). Elmer and I were able to convice her that Elmer was my 22 year old brother though. It took a lot of work and an awful lot of blatant lying, but I think she bought it.

We brought the wheelchairs into the CCD office building when we were done. I went back outside to grab my word of the day notebook, which I had left outside and Luz was still there. We talked for about 15 minutes about where I grew up, if I had ever seen snow, what her favorite part of school was (although she thought I asked her what her favorite game in school was). Luz wants to be a part time model, part time lawyer/singer when she grows up. But not like Shakira. She's a sell out.

I spent the rest of my afternoon helping Marisela draft a letter to some of our global partners assuring them that the political situation in Honduras has not hindered the progress that the CCD is making, and that groups are still welcome, safe, and wanted throughout the rest of this year and on into next year. It was a good letter, but I don't think that the international media really lends us much help.

The trip back home was good. I don't think I've ridden back in the same vehicle more than twice, though, and today we took a different pick up truck back. All of the guys rode in the back, which included Edgardo, myself, and Luis Felipe (who only comes some days). They asked me all sorts of questions about the United States. Do I know all of the states? How many have I been to? Which state is the most beautiful? Doesn't Michigan have lakes? How long does it take to drive from one end to the other? Which is better, Hawaii or Alaska? When will Puerto Rico be a state?

I think they were pretty amazed that I knew all 50 states and that spurred the rest of their questions. Edgardo jumped out before we got to Plaza, and Luis Felipe and I talked for a while comparing Honduras to the US. He asked how I felt about Talanga and the country and how beautiful it is out there. I told him honestly that it was hard for me. Because there was a lot of natural beauty, but also a lot of poverty and hurt, which was difficult for me to combine with the majesty of the mountains and the deep blue sky.

Luis Felipe laughed. I felt uneasy, and asked him why he was laughing.

"Why do you think they are poor?" he asked me.
"Well, I saw them. A lot of the people I saw didn't have clothes, their houses were made out of whatever they could find. They looked hungry. They looked thirsty."

"Yea, that's the country man. They don't care. Why would you wear a bunch of clothes when its 90+ degrees outside. Their houses are made out of the wood and stones nearby, and its the summer. Of course they are thirsty and hungry, they have been working all day. Yea, those people aren't really poor. There are some very poor people there, but most of them aren't that impoverished. They are hard workers, and a lof of them live off of what they produce, but they are not very poor. The poorest parts around here are on the outsides of the city. The closer you are to downtown, the richer you are. The further away, the poorer. The poorest parts of the country though, are to the south of us. That is where we do most of our work."

I was forced to eat a big piece of humble pie. I realized that I have this huge perception of what poverty is based on video clips on the TV, pictures here and there, and things that in my culture would be signs of poverty. I had been walking around looking at this country completely through the lens of an American, which was pretty arrogant of me. I assumed so much about so many people, and I felt like an ass. I'm glad that Luis Felipe explained it to me though, and I'm glad I can take a step back and look differently at the world I am in.

I got back to my apartment and noticed a large pile of laundry staring back at me. Unfortunately for me, the laundry room in the lobby is closed only when I want to use it, so I washed my clothes by hand with a washboard that they have up on the roof. I'm glad I was able to partake in a different experience. It was hard work, but it didn't take much longer than an hour. It was definitely the first time I've ever used clothespins for their original purpose. Kudos to the arts and crafts industry for keeping those things going.