El Dia de Pavo

Turkey Day - written 26th of November

As most of you know, during my training in the Villa de San Antonio back in March, April, and May, a few up us health volunteers went and visited an orphanage in the nearby city. We went twice, and of course, as some of you may recall, we thought we may have ended up with lice the second time, but after a lice-shampooing, (see previous post from May 3rd “Karma”) we were all in the clear.

For a little bit of back story, this orphanage had had the honor of receiving help and attention from a previous volunteer in the community. He had made an effort to always go and visit the kids, he helped them with a garden, and before he broke his arm (?) and had to go back to the States to get it worked on, he was in the process of helping find funding to do some remodeling to parts of the orphanage that were unsafe and not usable. During his two years working in that community and with the orphanage, he also introduced them to the U.S. Thanksgiving. He brought volunteers from the area into town, cooked an amazing meal, and shared it with the kids at the orphanage and with other Hondurans in the community.

So this year, Glenn, the new volunteer in the community, decided to carry on the tradition, and I was of course one of the volunteers that went to help. We had a few weeks of e-mails back and forth between all the volunteers who decided to go, and we all shared what we would be making so we could be sure and cover all the basics. I took on the stuffing role, and also decided to make my family’s traditional jello salad. (Lime jello with whip cream, cream cheese, and pineapples.)

To make it easier on myself and everyone else who needed to use the one oven available at Glenn’s house, I made my bread crumbs before making the trip down to Glenn’s house. I also barrowed a giant pot from my next-door neighbor so I could make a huge pot of stuffing and not have to fight anyone for the few pots Glenn had.

I traveled to Glenn’s with Amanda, and in Comayagua, we met up with Damarise. We went to the grocery store to buy everything we needed to make our dishes for Thanksgiving Dinner, and then grabbed a bus to Glenn’s. We ended up on one of the “milk run” buses because we couldn’t be bothered to look around the terminal for too long. We had so much stuff with us that we just jumped on the first bus that said the name of the community on it, not paying attention to how many other towns it would be going to first. So an hour and a scenic tour of the department of Comayagua later, we got off the bus and walked the two blocks to Glenn’s house.

I had heard stories about Glenn’s house - how she lived in a “mansion,” but I always assumed people were exaggerating a little bit about Glenn’s living situation. But, upon arrival, the rumors were proved to be true - Glenn certainly does live in a mansion. Ok, not what you would picture a “mansion” in the US, but certainly a mansion in Peace Corps homes terms. There are three double beds and two twin beds, two kitchens, an outdoor patio/living room area, the actual living room, three bathrooms with hot water, a dining room with a table that seats 18, a swimming pool, and a grounds keeper. To be honest, the whole house is not hers. The owner of the house has the bigger half, but Glenn has one double bed, two twins, one bathroom, one kitchen, and the dining room with the 18-person table, as well as access to the swimming pool. In Peace Corps standards, she is living a very different lifestyle than most - my house would pretty much fit into her dining room!

So, after arriving at Glenn’s, and getting the full tour (her landlord was out of town, and because so many volunteers were going to be visiting, she gave us full-use of the house,) we began cooking. Glenn had already been working on pumpkin pies all day, but there was plenty more to be done. Basically the more that could be done on Wednesday, the better, so we had plenty of time for last minute Turkey Day disasters.

I made my jello salad and chopped celery and onions while other people were prepping their own dishes - Lacy peeled and chopped vegetables for salad, Tricia made Snickerdoodles, Adam washed and snapped green beans for is casserole, Nancy made biscuits, Damarise made candies squash (ayote con miel), Jessica made three apple cakes, Glenn finished all the pies, Ali made sangria, and Sam made pasta and bread for dinner that night

Damarise making squash!!!

The plan for the morning was to have the birds in the oven by 10am - and we had four of them. One was getting an herb rub, one a spice rub, and the other two a miso rub. So, I started making stuffing at about 8:30am in order to have it done when the turkey’s were prepped, then we could stuff the herb-rubbed one and send the turkeys off around town to the ovens that were being loaned to us.

~*~

Robin’s Famous Thanksgiving Stuffing

2 cups chopped celery
2 cups chopped onion
4 Stove Top stuffing mixes (turkey or chicken)
2 Bullion cubs
2 cups water
Extra bread crumbs
Giblets from the turkey

*additional optional items: apples, pears, cranberries, raisins, pecans

Mince the heart and liver from the turkey and sauté it with the celery and onion in a pan with butter, follow the instructions on the Stove Top stuffing mixes for how much water and butter to bring to a boil, to that you add 2 more cups of water, two Bullion cubes, the sautéed celery, onion, and giblets, and whatever other optional foods you want to include. Remove it from the heat and add all the Stove Top crumbs, and then continue to add more bread crumbs until the excess liquid is soaked up. If you are stuffing a bird you want it a little dry, but if you are not you want it a little more soft and liquidy, because it will dry a little more when you bake it.

Stuff your bird, and put any extra in a backing dish and bake it for the last hour with the turkey.

~*~

That is my mom’s stuffing recipe that I had only done once before this year. So, I was nervous to make it this year and have so many volunteers and Hondurans judging it. But, I went for it. However, I more than doubled it, so I was extra nervous for how it would turn out.

I had 3 Stove Top stuffing mixes, and two Pepridge Farms (which are a lot bigger than Stove Top), as well as two and a half loves of bread that I had made into bread crumbs while still back in site. So I brought 14 cups of water to a boil with 5 Bullion cubes, and added about five cups of celery, three onions, all four turkey hearts, and two livers (they were big, and liver kind of grosses me out, so I didn’t want to chop any more after the first two). Then I added three chopped pears and a bag of mixed dried fruit (raisins, golden raisins, cranberries, and dried apples). Then it was time to remove it from the heat and add all the bread crumbs. This is what made me nervous - was I going to have more liquid than I had bread crumbs to soak up? I added the Stove Top packages, mixed it, then added the Pepridge Farms and mixed it. I added the half a bag of bread crumbs I had made, then one full one. It was still on the liquidy side, but was almost there. So, then I slowly started adding the last bag of bread crumbs I had. Little by little, the last bit of liquid was getting nice and soaked up, and right as I added the last of my crumbs, I decided the stuffing was right where it needed to be! I had judged the portions correctly and it turned out great. What a relief!

Me finishing the stuffing!

As people started getting up that morning and smelling the stuffing, they said that was when it actually felt like Thanksgiving to them!! I let a couple people try the stuffing, and they said it was great, and then at dinner, everyone loved it, which of course made me very happy!

So, after the stuffing was done, it should have been time to stuff the birds, but they were not prepped yet. So, Sam, and I washed them and put them in pans. Glenn brought us the spice rub right as we were finishing, so Tricia rolled up her sleeves and took on the task of rubbing down the bird! The two miso-rubbed turkeys were next, and then we were waiting on the herb rub. But, Damarise needed to go run some errands and wanted company, so I stuffed the last bird before the herb rub was put on, and then left with Damarise for about 45 minutes. I expected all the turkeys to be in the oven by the time I got back, but that was not the case. We got back to the house at about noon, and the herb-rubbed turkey, which was the only stuffed one, was not in the oven yet. This worried me because stuffed turkeys take longer to bake and we were planning to eat dinner at 3pm. The turkey finally made it into an oven at about 12:30pm, but I guess that oven was left on 450 degrees for an hour before being turned down instead of only the first 30 minutes, so it ended up cooking in pretty good time.

At 3pm, Sam and decided to make the gravy because almost all the turkeys had made it to the orphanage, we were not running too far behind. Gravy is pretty quick, we just browned the flour and butter, then added the broth, sage, rosemary, and thyme and let it simmer for a while. We made gravy from one of the miso-rubbed turkeys and from the herb-rubbed. I liked the herb-rubbed gravy more, but I’m a traditionalist.

We were eating by about 4pm, which isn’t too bad - only an hour off.

The kids liked the turkey, but were not fans of most of the other dishes - they were too far out of their normal comfort zones of beans, cheese, and tortillas, but they did love all the desserts. The pumpkin pie was of course a favorite, as were the pumpkin cheesecake bars that Leticia made - those may have been more of a favorite for us volunteers! But there was also pudding, cookies, cakes, jello salad - everyone had a lot to choose from.

We wrapped up at the orphanage, cleaning and leaving leftovers for the kids, but still taking some leftovers back to Glenn’s for us too. We were back at Glenn’s by about 8pm extremely exhausted. Playing horse and entertaining kids takes a lot out of you, and being in a turkey coma doesn’t help either.

Santa Cruz giving presents to the kids!

I actually felt sick for a good two hours after eating because it was so much rich/buttery food, and I don’t get to eat a lot of that in my site. My stomach wasn’t used to it, and I of course overindulged, but it was delicious and worth the upset stomach for a little while.

I got back to my site Friday afternoon after quite the trip. Amanda and I decided to travel with Damarise and Nina all the way up to San Pedro Sula and then take a bus over to Santa Rosa and back to my site, so it was going to be about an extra hour+. We went to the grocery store in San Pedro and were all in heaven. Damarise and Nina were getting stuff to make another thanksgiving dinner for people in their sites, and Amanda and I were just walking around looking at all the amazing food that we never get in our sites, picking out a few things that we just couldn’t live with out. Amanda got a Mexican rice mix, Cheese Itz, and skittles, while I got cat litter (can’t find it around my site), lightly-buttered microwave popcorn, snap pees, and the Laughing Cow garlic and herb cheese triangles!

After waiting for a bus for an hour after the guy who sold us our ticket said it would leave in 20 minutes, we were finally on our way. We had decided to get off in Santa Rosa and eat an actual meal because we hadn’t yet all day, but just our luck, right outside of La Entrada (40 minutes away from Santa Rosa), our bus broke down. We waited for about a half an hour with the hope that it could get fixed, but then decided that we should try to either catch a ride or flag another bus because it was going to be getting dark soon. Thankfully, a bus that goes from San Pedro Sula to Gracias passed us shortly after we made our decision, and the driver and ayudante (helper) recognized me because they see me running all the time. They stopped, helped Amanda and I transfer all our stuff to their bus, saved us two seats right next to each other, and charged us 15 lempira less than everyone else that got on their bus us - a little better luck! By the time we made it to my site, it was getting dark and we were really hungry. We stopped and ordered baleads from a women who sells them right next to the bus stop, and then got a moto taxi up to my house because we were both too tired and exhausted to walk up the stairs you can’t avoid when walking up to my house.

When we got home, I finally got to try some pumpkin pie. I hadn’t quite felt like thanksgiving yet because I hadn’t had any pie. At the orphanage I was too full and hurting to try any, and we left so early Friday morning that pie didn’t sound good. So it wasn’t until Friday night that I got to finally make my thanksgiving complete and indulge on a piece of Glenn’s AMAZING pumpkin pie. I need her recipe!

Thank you Glenn for hosting such an amazing gathering!! I can’t wait to do it again next year!

The Dirty South

Twenty-eight hours on buses, 150 mosquito bites, zero turtles, six good friends, three Sobe Adrenalins, and six delicious baleadas later, I just arrived back to my site completely exhausted - but that is what’s to be expected after a weekend down in the Dirty South!

What was supposed to be a weekend working with freshly hatched seat turtles, turned into a lazy day on the beach when the last nest hatched the night we arrived - leaving us with no baby turtles to help get safely to sea.

As bummed as I was to wake up early Saturday morning to find out that we would not be able to spend our day playing with baby sea turtles, finally being down in the Dirty South, (as all the volunteers who live down there refer to it) I was ready for a day on the beach regardless! After gathering the troops - meaning the seven of us who had met to help with turtle-watch - and making our way to Cedeño - we walked along the beach to Cruz’s favorite hang-out spot. When we arrived in Cedeño and started walking to the beach, I was eagerly waiting to catch my first glimpse of the ocean. When that moment finally came, I was in heaven.

First glimpse of the Honduran Pacific Ocean!!!!

Having grown up on the water, being land-locked for so long has been a bit hard. But on Saturday, I was finally able to put my feet into the Honduran Pacific Ocean. I had heard the water down there was very warm and not refreshing when trying to cool off from the blistering-hot sun, but I was very lucky this weekend because 1- it was hot, but I could stand it and 2- the Pacific was actually refreshingly cool. This was because a few weeks ago the South was hit by practically hurricane-force winds and rain, and has yet to fully recover. I was happy I could gain some relief from the heat in the water, but that happiness was short-lived because after about three minutes in the water, I realized I was being stung all over by jelly fish.

Diving underwater to come up with blisters already forming around your wrist by a jelly fish you had accidentally broken in half with your crawl stroke, was not what I had in mind for an afternoon of swimming. But, it did flash me back to when I was in second grade on a family vacation to Florida. We arrived their right after a tropical storm and went to the beach with high hopes of lounging and swimming all day. The lounging could still be accomplished, but to mine, my mom’s, and my two sister’s surprise, we were not allowed to swim due to the jelly fish that the storm blew in. So, 17 years later, I was reduced to the same fate of sitting on the beach and staring longingly at the beautiful ocean.

Lounging on the beach with Nicaragua in the background!

I, however, did not let these jelly fish ruin my day at the beach. I soaked up some much-needed sun on my white legs, spent quality time with my friends, and lounged in hammocks. I was even able to let myself relax to the nostalgia of the boats cruising by with their 15 -25 horse Yamaha motors heading out to go fishing… it took me straight back to Port Alexander when my eyes were closed.

Hauling the outboard up the beach... not exactly the same, but the same general idea!

What truly amazed me about spending the day on the beach was that it was Cruz’s office. He is a business volunteer down there in the Dirty South, and he spends his “office hours” on that very beach. That boy ran into a bit of luck when you compare that to some of the volunteers who are sitting up at the top of mountains shivering their days away in clothes that just never seem to fully dry, in houses that are uninsulated.

The 14-hour bus ride to and from Choluteca is a bit daunting, but now that I know I can survive the heat to some extent, I know that I will be making more trips down there during the year and a half more I have here in Honduras. I will no longer let the temperature of a place discourage me from visiting somewhere- sorry Brian for missing your birthday party just because I was too frightened of the 90-100+ temperatures!

The mosquito bites...this lighting doesn't even do it justice.

Cultural Ups and Downs

The culture down here in Honduras really surprises me sometimes- people are so friendly and giving, but yet so rude at the same time.

Let me give some examples.

Yesterday, I went to an aldea about 30 minutes up the mountain from my site. The doctor, orthodontist, nurse, and I all went. The doc was doing consults for pregnant women as well as annual exams for women, the orthodontist was doing cleanings and pulling teeth, and the nurse and I were doing HIV and Syphilis tests for the pregnant women. I also gave a charla about infant nutrition because there were just as many babies and toddlers at the health center as there were women.

After Lexi and I finished all the HIV and Syphilis tests, I didn’t have anything to do, so I went with Janet (the administrative assistant) to go find oranges - everyone wanted to take a sack of oranges back home with them because, apparently, the aldea we were in is known for oranges! Janet has a lot of friends in this aldea, so she knew right were to go. We got there and we were immediately handed a cup of coffee - this is a custom here in Honduras; where ever you go, they will give you coffee or some sort of juice. I can usually speak up fast enough to skip the coffee, but this women must have seen us coming because I had no time to protest. Once the coffee was being offered to me, I couldn’t not take it. And as most of you know, I do not like coffee! So, I drank about half of it, and another custom here in Honduras is putting almost as much sugar as coffee in the coffee, so it wasn’t even that bad because it was so sweet. After visiting for a while, and hearing all about the volunteer that had lived in that aldea before, the women asked if we wanted oranges. We had actually gone to this particular house for something called a Lima, which is more of a sweet lemon than an orange, but we sure were not going to turn down the oranges. While this women’s niece went to pick the oranges, Janet and I picked Limas. After we had our bags full, the women went into her house and came out with a bag full of freshly dried black beans, then went back in and came out with two big bunches of bananas, then she ran off to a side building, and came back with a big sack of freshly dried coffee (still needed to be roasted). Then, as we were leaving, this women flagged down a guy hanging outside a nearby house and told him to help us carry our bounty up to the health center, which he didn’t even hesitate for a second to do!

Bag full of yummy oranges.

After we went back to the health center with that load, the rest of the group was jealous of our oranges, which meant it was time to go looking for more. From the health center, we could see a tree full of oranges, so we decided to make our way in that direction, and see if we could talk the owner out of a selling a couple sacks full.

When we got to the house where we saw the tree, the owners were sitting outside. When we told them we were looking for oranges, he took us out into his yard where he basically had an orchard! They let us fill up our sacks and would not accept any money. So, we filled our sacks and then went back and got the orthodontists sack and filled hers too. While we were picking, the owner - Don Avillio - was climbing trees to pick us good ones, peeling a few of each kind so we could try them, and telling us all about the different kinds. He had four different types of oranges as well as mandarins. I was very excited because one of the types of oranges he had was Navel - the way he said it, it took me a minute to realize that was what he was saying, but when I tried it, it was delicious - even better than Navel oranges in the states. Pretty sure in the States, I had only ever tried Navel; I had no idea how many different kinds of oranges their actually were.

Don Avillio picking us the best oranges.

So, besides just yesterday’s friendliness, on an everyday basis, if you go visit somebody, they will not let you leave their house with out giving you something - whether it is coffee, juice, mangos, oranges - what ever they have available. And, this is even when they don’t really have anything for themselves and their family - they will literally give you the last bit of food they have! I have found that if you try to say no thank you that you hurt their feelings, so it is better to just accept what ever they are offering you - even if it is a cup of coffee that you really don’t want to drink.

However, to now go the other direction and talk about how the Honduran culture is very far on the rude side.

For example: When you are introduced to someone here in Honduras, the person you meet has no problem picking out your most distinguishing feature and commenting on it. So, for me, when I meet people, everyone says “oh, que gordita” (translation: oh, how chubby you are). How is that in any way acceptable? In the U.S. if someone were to say that to a person they just met, that person would most likely never talk to them again. But here, it is just the cultural norm. In the aldea yesterday, I picked up a sack of oranges that the other women had no idea how they were going to transport, and just threw it over my shoulder and started walking. The response to that “Ella esta bien gorda, pero que fuerte!” (translation: she is fat, but very strong!) Having been in Honduras for about 8.5 months now, I can let these comments slide. It took me a while to be able to just let them go, and of course they still make me cringe a little bit - nobody wants to be constantly reminded about how chubby they are - but I’m starting to be able to let it go in one ear and out the other.

Bus passengers - that is where a very rude/pushy side comes out. When there are multiple people waiting for a bus, Hondurans will do what ever they can to squeeze and push their way to the front of the line to get on the bus first. And then, when walking through the isles, they will smack your head with their hands, elbows, purses, and/or backpacks without flinching or saying sorry. And being the gringa that I am, I always get stared at. Hondurans have not problems just straight up staring at people - especially white people. They will turn themselves all the way around in their seat and stare at you for an entire 40 minute bust ride (and this is not only men; the women do it too)! Didn’t their mother’s ever teach them that it was not polite to stare - NO! I mean, yes, I know my blond hair and blue eyes attracts a lot of unwanted attention, but the staring just goes a little too far.

Speaking of unwanted attention - that is where the rudeness comes in again. Honduran men are like the stereotypical construction workers in the U.S. - they yell, whistle, hiss, etc. to women walking by to get their attention. I feel like a dog a lot of the time, getting hissed and whistled at constantly. I’ve started to do it back, but it usually just makes the guys laugh - which is better than them yelling “I love you baby.”

So, for the most part, the generosity and friendliness outweighs the rude/pushiness of Hondurans, but somehow it is always so much easier to think and focus on the rude/pushy things. It is nice to take a moment and reflect on the nicer aspects of the Honduran culture, and I am going to try and make an effort to keep those in mind when I find myself getting frustrated with Honduras.

Our bounty after a day of collecting oranges :)