It has taken me a while to be able to write about this, but it has come time to tell the story about leaving Honduras. I know some of you are curious, but then some have pieced it together, but I’m going to take some time to tell you what happened and how it took a toll on me. I have postponed it for so long because I know it is going to be a difficult thing for me to write about. My emotions are always so much stronger when I write and I have not been ready to really let the tears run, but I’m back home in Alaska, and I guess there will be no better a time than now. I‘m going to do this in two parts to take less of a toll on me, I hope you enjoy.
A month and two days ago, we were told we would be leaving Honduras. It has been a rough month, to say the least. That day, Tuesday December 20th, Amanda and I were sitting in Big Baleadas in Santa Rosa de Copan. We received a text message from the Peace Corps office, telling us our country director had just sent a very important e-mail and that we either need to read it right then, or call the office if we did not have access to internet. At that same moment, the internet for the baleada restaurant decided to stop working. Amanda and I unplugged our computers, grabbed our purses, and pretty much ran to another café that we knew had fast internet - Jireth. My computer automatically signed onto the internet at Jireths, so I was able to open the e-mail before Amanda - I read it allowed.
This e-mail told us about the unfortunate decision that was made to pause Peace Corps operations in Honduras and complete an evaluation of the safety and security of the country. At this time, we were also put on Standfast, meaning we were not allowed to leave our sites for any reason, and Peace Corps also informed us a little about some of our options for the future. We could take “interrupted service” and go home or decide to stay in Honduras, or we could return home and stay on “administrative hold,” and wait to see what happens to Peace Corps Honduras.
From this day on, we got weekly updates with answers to frequently asked logistical questions, and were informed about the 4-day conference we were going to be having in Tegucigalpa before being shipped back to the US on January 16th. This was a difficult three weeks - I spent Christmas and New Years in my site, but the idea that I was being sent home was always weighing me down - you can never truly enjoy something when your mind is spending so much energy thinking about something else.
Amanda got back to Honduras from Christmas in the States on January 6th, which made my life easier - it is always easier to make it through hard times when you have someone to talk - even if it is just on the phone. Yes, I had plenty of people to talk to in Las Flores, but talking it over in Spanish with a Honduran just wasn’t the same. I had to spend a lot of time and energy explaining why I had to leave, and how the country really is dangerous even though Las Flores isn’t. It was a lot of energy that sometime I just didn’t want to use. I wanted to talk to a friend in English to complain about the rotten citation, complain about Peace Corps lack of communication, to be sad together about not leaving - and Amanda was the person I needed to do that with. We learned to understand each other, to support each other, to comfort each other during the many times we had spent together in Las Flores.
Once I had my chatting buddy back, I was able to unload on her and relax a little bit. But, I still had six days intil we were leaving, and I needed to sell all my belongings, say my goodbyes, take my cat to her new owners - it was going to be a busy week. The one upside of keeping myself busy was my ability to not think about what was making me sad - I could focus on my to-do list.
Saturday, January 7th, was my going away party put on my the mayor’s office in Las Flores. We went to the hot springs, drank beer (my first time in front of any of them), ate cake, listened to music, and talked about how unfortunate it was that I had to leave. It was fun, and at about 10 p.m., my friends and I decided that we wanted to go dancing, so we moved down to the other pool in town - which always has music for dancing on Saturday nights! It was the perfect night. I said some goodbyes, got some pictures, and was having a fun night with my friends - and I was so excited to get some dancing in before leaving Honduras.
Me and Wil - the Mayor of Las FloresAfter this fiasco, my friends and I went up to my house - my night (and my best friends night) was pretty much ruined, but it only got worse.
An hour later, my friend started puking up blood. At first it was only a little bit, so we were thinking we would take him to the hospital in the morning when the buses started running, but when he started puking again, with a lot more blood, we decided - and he wanted - to go to the hospital. By this time it was almost 2 a.m. and none of us had cars. We started making calls, looking for someone who was awake and had access to a car, but we came up with nothing. Finally we got a hold of the mayor’s secretary, who was still awake and said if we got the OK from the mayor, he would drive us in the company truck. So, at about 2:30 a.m. another friend and I walked down to the mayor’s house, woke him up, and got the OK to use the truck. A half an hour later my friend was getting x-rays and was given extra strength Tylenol and some pills to get rid of his nausea. That was it!!!! His face wasn’t broken, so they sent him on his way. When he was back in Las Flores, he slept in my spare bedroom, so I could keep an eye on him. He puked one more time, then I gave him some nausea medicine, and Tylenol for the pain. He slept for the next two days - only getting up to take his pills and eat a little.
Everyday I had texts, calls, and people coming up to me to ask how he was doing. Nobody had seen him in days because after he was able to move around, he still didn’t want to because he didn’t want people to see his face, which was black and swollen. So, while he was recovering, I was making arrangements to sell my belongings: stove, oven, dishes, fridge, bed, bedding, closet, water filter, and fan.
I was going to be leaving Las Flores at 6 a.m. on January 12, so I spent the 9th and the 10th cleaning my house and packing all my stuff - deciding what I wanted to take with me, and what I could get rid of. It was a slow process, especially because I didn’t want to do it, so I got easily distracted. I was still finishing on the 11th - I put it off as long as I could. I kept trying to believe that if I just didn’t do it, I wouldn’t have to leave, but eventually I had to realize that wasn’t going to be the case.
My cat, Junior, could tell something was going on all day on the 11th. She stayed right next to me the whole time I was packing my suitcases and cleaning the house. But, at one point my friends came over to say hi, and they were hanging out outside while I finished mopping the floor. At this point, Junior decided to climb a tree, and when I finished mopping and went outside, and then I burst into tears. I don’t know what triggered it, I just leaned against the wall, looked at my friend, and started bawling! I ran inside to calm myself, grabbed my backpack, cat food, cat toys, and cat treats and went outside to get Junior. Unfortunately, she was still in the tree and couldn’t get down. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to come down, she was winning because she actually couldn’t get down! One of my friends ended up climbing up the tree and getting her down for me.
Wagner and Junior... Thank you friend!!!The rest of the night went very well - it was the perfect last night. We went to the hot springs and just relaxed for a while, and then when we had turned pruney, we went back to my house because we had a plan for the rest of the night. I had saved everything that I decided didn’t make the cut for my two bags that I was allowed to take back to the states with me, and that weren’t worth giving to anyone in Las Flores. So we went back to my house, grabbed all my “garbage” and walked to the river. What better way to commemorate and celebrate my times in Las Flroes than with a bon fire? A lot of what got burned were all the manuals that we were given during training: policy manuals, medical policy manuals, old health project manuals, hand outs, old Spanish notebooks - it was a good way to end my time in Las Flores and with Peace Corps - in my opinion.
Goodbye Las Flores... and Peace Corps....You will be missed!We went back to my house after everything was burnt, and then just hung out. I didn’t want to say goodbye, and neither did my friends, so we just stayed up. Eric was going to be coming to my house - originally at 6:30 but later that changed - at 8:00 a.m. So, I spent the early morning packing all my last minute items, moving my stuff outside, going on a mission for orange juice and taking out money from the bank agent in town, then we all just sat around until Eric made it. We were running on Honduran time, so he didn’t get there until almost 9 a.m., which was when we were supposed to be arriving in Santa Rosa to get on the bus Peace Corps had rented to take all 33 volunteers who lived in the west to the hotel in Tegucigalpa. But, the bus wasn’t actually leaving until 10 a.m. so we were doing fine. I finally had to say a quick goodbye after throwing my bags in the back of the truck, and then I drove away from Las Flores, with the realization that I had no idea when I was ever going to be there again! I kept pretty quite for the 40 minute drive to Santa Rosa. I was trying to come to terms with the fact that I had just left! I felt bad that I didn’t talk much with Eric’s friend who drove us, but I’m guessing he probably understood.
Once in Santa Rosa, I had one more goodbye to make, then got on the bus. We were put up in a fancy bus with seats that reclined, and we even had a bathroom. However, the fancy bus stored all the luggage underneath, meaning the passengers were riding higher than on a normal chicken bus. I had gotten used to chicken bus rides, but unfortunately my stomach was not acclimated to the set up of this particular bus, so I was car sick the whole ride - 7 hours! I couldn’t eat, luckily they provided us with bottled water, but the bus was air conditioned, so we were not allowed to open the windows, and Peace Corps would not let the bus make any stops. We called the Peace Corps worker who was following our bus asking if we could please pull over because there were people who needed relieve their bowls, which was not supposed to be done in the bathroom on the bus (there was even a note on the door) and that someone was car sick - but he would not approve a rest stop! Seven hours on a bus without stopping - are you serious!!! Apparently they were!
I had to open the window of the bus a couple times, but I ended up making it to Tegucigalpa without vomiting. Amanda and I had mastered our Honduran bus riding, so we were the first two off that bus, with our bags, and in the elevator going up to the lobby. The bus had pulled around back to the service entrance where there was only one elevator, so it took 45 minutes for everyone on the bus to make it upstairs. I was happy I used my Honduran-ness to get off that bus, but I’m sorry to those of you that I stepped in front of - I was still afraid vomiting might have been a in the picture - and I hadn’t used the bathroom in more than eight hours, so I was in a hurry to get off that bus!
Once at the hotel…..well, that will be for Part 2!
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