The Ebb and Flow

I have been having a rough couple of days here in Honduras. I don’t know what brought it on, or why, but as our lovely country assistant director, Brian calls it - I’m in the ebb of the volunteer ebb and flow - Like the tides. During a Peace Corps service, according to Brian, all volunteers go through this ebb and flow, multiple times. When you are in the flow, you feel like you are completing the goals that you set out and that you are truly helping the country you are living in. But, when you are in the ebb, you feel like nothing you do is working, that you are not doing what you set out to do, and that you being in your country is teetering on pointless.

So, me being in an ebb right now is not a good place to be. I am not in too deep, thankfully, and hopefully this is a high, low tide, but it is happening nonetheless. I have been trying to figure this out, and I think I have come to some kind of conclusion. Living in a country where the customs are just so unbelievably different, it takes a toll on you. I have been here for almost seven months now, and I think it is just starting to all catch up to me.

What exactly am I talking about. I will give you some examples of things that I see pretty much on a daily basis that have been hard to adapt to.

Let me start with something that happened this afternoon. Amanda and I were sitting in a coffee shop, when a little boy came up and asked for money. We have decided giving money to the little kids who beg is not a good idea because more likely than not, they are going to give it to their parents, who will then buy booze. So, when we have food, we will give that to the kids instead. Today, however, we did not have food to give him, so we had to send him on his way. After he made his rounds around the tables in the coffee shop, he walked up to the garbage can, opened it, grabbed an almost empty coffee drink and proceeded to finish it. Amanda and I couldn’t even watch; we turned away the second that used cup with who-knows-what inside hit his lips. It was just too much to watch. A little boy - probably about 11 years old - going through the trash and eating/drinking whatever he could get his hands on. It was enough to make me want to give him some money, but I literally have none to give until my next paycheck hits the bank next week.

This was heart-retching, and the fact that I see it every single day - little kids that don’t have enough to eat, walking around without shoes and without parents to take care of them. Who knows, they probably have parents, but if they are walking around begging, I don’t think their parents are doing such a great job. It is hard seeing this and not being able to do anything. I am only one person, in one little community, volunteering in a foreign country, but how am I helping these little kids - what is going to happen to them?

Last week, in the same location - Amanda and I love to meet in the café by the bus terminal because it has air conditioning and cold frappe drinks - the perfect way to relax on a hot, sunny Honduran afternoon. So, last week when Amanda and I were there, we were watching all the little babies around us because, yes, we are going through a little bit of baby fever. We want to hold every baby we see - in Spanish you say chiniar. We probably say “I want to chiniar that baby” about 20 times a day (our spanglish is getting great). So, as we were baby stalking, we noticed the family in the corner of the café, and they had an adorable little girl. She looked like she was probably about 6 months old. She was sitting on her dad’s lap, holding her head up by herself, and holding her cup by herself, so we were guessing 6-9 months. But, the part that was almost unbearable to see was that the “cup” this little girl was drinking out of was a granita de café, which is the Espresso Americano café’s version of a frappe. A 6-month old drinking a frappe. As U.S. citizens we were pretty horrified by this scene, but as health volunteers in the Peace Corps, we were completely horrified.

Nutrition is one of my passions here in Honduras. On a daily basis - multiple times a day - I witness terrible nutrition habits by Hondurans. I’m not trying to pretend like I have perfect nutrition, but I do know what I should and shouldn’t eat, even if sometimes I chose to ignore it. I see infants and toddles being given candy, chips and coke for snacks instead of something as simple and cheap as a banana. Nobody drinks water - it is all coke and coffee. People eat about 4 corn tortillas with every meal (and in these parts, one tortilla is about the size of 3). People fry tier food in so much grease that I could probably cook for a week after one egg gets fried. But, I don’t say anything when I see these things. These people have had these habits for their whole lives and just simply telling them something is not going to make a difference. I need to set up charlas (talks) and cooking demonstrations to try and make the information really stick. But, when I saw a 6-month old baby drinking a frappe, it was all I could do to not start going off at that family. I had so many things I would have liked to say to them, but I didn’t do anything. What good would it have done? Having a gringa walk up to their table and tell them it is bad to give their little baby coffee and sugar (all that a granita is) would not have accomplished anything. They would probably just say, “oh we gave all our kids these, and look. they are fine.” So, as much as I wanted to do something, I didn’t. Amanda and I just sat there talking about how much we couldn’t believe what they were doing. The inability to make an impact and or alter people’s bad habits gets a little overwhelming after a while.

Ok - one more thing I will take a minute to talk about - Hondurans and relationships. We were told all through training about how Honduran men work. They are all the same, they told us. Anyone who is married, probably has a couple other women on the side, and any man you find that says he is single probably still has a girlfriend or even a wife, and probably a couple kids, too. This is just something we have to accept, and live with. But, I have found it slightly challenging. There are a lot of men in my site, that I know have wives/kids, but they still hit on me, ask me for my number, tell me how they want to be with me, and ask me to take them with me when I go back to the States. It isn’t even just that they are doing it with me. I have a few Honduran guy friends that I know have girlfriends or are married that then ask me for my friends numbers (Hondurans and other volunteers). I just don’t understand how they think that is OK. Part of me wants to tell the wives and girlfriends about their crummy men, but to be honest, I’m sure they already know. It is so hard being such a strong, independent women living in this country. Seeing women be walked on everyday of their lives is so hard. I just want to grab them, shake them, and ask them why the heck they stay with a guy that treats them like dirt - why they tolerate that behavior? But, it is just “part” of the Honduran culture. People know about it, accept it, and chose to ignore it - everyone chooses to live their lives in ignorance that they bring on themselves.

On this same topic, the piropos (cat calls) are starting to hit a little deeper nerve with me these days. I can handle the “hola me amor,” “hola gringa.” “ay, que bonita/linda/guapa/preciosa,” anything men decided to holler at me, doesn’t seem to phase me, but when they do the noise, it makes my blood boil. It is a noise like someone calling a dog over to them - “Tsssss, tssssss!” For some reason, everyone here seems to think that calling a women over like she is a dog, is ok. But, I find it unacceptable. The last few times that a guy has done it to me, I have turned around and done it back to them, but in a very snotty way. They usually just think it is hilarious. Before, I just ignored the piropos, but I get so angry having men call me like a dog, that I am having trouble ignoring it now. I know I need to keep my tempter in check, and ignoring them draws much less attention than piropoing them back, but I just feel like I have to make a stand. There are so many things that I have to ignore and not say anything about while living in Honduras, that being able to do something about these cat calls, makes me feel like I have some sort of control over my life. I know that I don’t really have any control over my life right now, which makes this all so much harder.

Having Peace Corps put more rules and regulations on top of all the other ones that we already had, has probably added to the beginning stages of my current “ebb.” I was looking forward to meeting all my friends for Halloween,, and now being told I CAN’T, has been hard. In the Peace Corps when you are working so hard to “make a difference in the world,” which usually feels like a daunting task, reunions with familiar people are very important - I know that Peace Corps understand that, so the fact that they have implemented these new safety/security precautions just makes me realize the severity of the security situation in Honduras. How long will Peace Corps Honduras be around - will I be able to finish my two years here? Two questions that find their way to the front of my brain, and don’t really help with my current state of mind.