Sitting on the narrow, rather uncomfortable bus seat, staring out the window, Sonia leaned over and told me we had about 15 minutes left. As we were approaching what was soon to become my new home, I had no idea what to expect. Everything around me was grayish-brown, dusty and reminded me a lot of bing in Arizonia. Trees and shrubs flashed by in the window here and there as our rapidito (small/direct bus) speed it's way to Las Flores, Lempira giving the scenery a little bit of color, but what caught my eye was the mountains all around us. As we passed the desvio (turn off) for Lepaera, which I knew was up at the top of the mountain and would be Eric's site, I couldn't help but wonder if he had arrived yet? As we slowed and drove over a speed bump, Sonia said we had arrived. Looking around, I didn't see much. We were on a 2-lane highway and we pulled off the road at a giant pink tire (llanta) marking the location of the local tire-changing/fixing establishment. As I stepped off the bus, I was glad Slater's counterparts had taken my giant duffle bags in their car because I had too much to take in at that moment to deal with shlupping two giant suite cases down a gravel road. As soon as we stepped off the bus, and i didn't have that nice breeze on my face, I realized I was in for a treat. It was hot - hotter than hot. There were mountains all around us, but we were down in the valley, which meant I was going to be living in a "hot site." My feet were already sweating, my Keens were letting all sorts of dust and rocks be kicked right under my foot, my clothes were sticking to me, and I didn't even want to know what my hair looked like. Three little boys were running down the road as we made our way to Sonia's house, but they all stopped mid stride when they saw my white skinned, blond haired self walking down the street. There was no trying to blend in or act like a local. I could have been spotted a mile away, and I felt like everyone was looking at me. We hustled inside and Sonia showed me to my room. My bags had already arrived and instead of unpacking, I was passed out on my new bed about 15 minutes later. It was a stressful night and 8-hour bus ride, but I had finally arrived to my new home for what was supposed to be 2 years.
Those two years, however, were cut short and Tomorrow marks six months since leaving Honduras. I can honestly say that these last six months have probably been the fastest six months of my life. How is it all of the sudden the middle of July - What even happened to June? Thinking about what I have done in these last six months - I am actually a little bit proud of myself. I recovered from three different kinds of parasites, started working, applied to graduate school, traveled for a month, was accepted to grad school, and then spent the last three and half months working back home in Alaska. It was fun, but each day I was counting down to this moment - the time when I get to go back to Honduras. Yes, you heard me right - I am going back to Honduras - on the 18th. A lot of people have questioned my decision - "really, you are returning to a place that was deemed to dangerous to keep you volunteers any longer?" And, I must say that is a valid question, but for some reason, it does not seem to be stopping me. I have a pull - there is actually something pulling me back there. It is something I can't seem to find words to explain, but for other Peace Corps Volunteers who were enjoying their Peace Corps experience as much as I was, you all can understand the desire to go back. I miss so many things. I miss my host family - the amazing people that took me in as a complete stranger and made me part of their family. My Peace Corps experience would have been so different had a been placed in a different site, or even with another family. Sonia - my host mom - took me under her wing and made my experience so much better for it. On May 16th, 2011, the day after arriving to site, she took me all around town introducing me to people and letting them know who I was and what i was doing in town - and with that, she took away my nervousness. Ok, of course I was still nervous, but having her their with me - she gave me the confidence I needed to make my Peace Corps experience what I wanted it to be. What ever ideas I had, she was right behind me to make it work.
When I moved out of Sonia's house to my house "arriba," I then had the opportunity to get to know the family who owned my house. They were beyond welcoming. Patty, the actual owner of the house, who lived in San Pedro, came into town every other weekend or so and she made it a point to welcome me into the family - her parents, Don Adrean and Amparo were a little more hesitant to make the first move. Patty, however, would just open the door to her parent's house, stick her head out and yell - "Coraaaaaaal - Hay Baleadas!!!" Which meant - Coral come over for dinner and eat some baleadas, which were my favorite. They were always inviting me for dinner, bringing me fruit they picked, or just popping into chat.
It was my boyfriend at the time that got me set up with my little house. Don Adrean is his uncle. He apparently talked to Don Adrean about me needing a place, so they had been preparing it for a month before I even found out about it. The cleared everything out, built a bathroom and a pila (where you wash clothes), and cleaned the whole house. I was very grateful. I wasn't really sure what I was going to do - It was time to move out out Sonia's house, and I hadn't found anything up to my standards. I needed more than just a room with a bed and a closet. I could have stayed at Sonia's house, but I like having my space and a kitchen. So, Mermaid (that is what all the volunteers ended up calling my boyfriend at the time because his name was Ariel - The Little Mermaid) introduced me to Don Adrean and took me up to the little house so I could make sure it was all up to snuff, which it was. I was moved in a few days later!
I will be forever grateful to Mermaid for introducing me to his family. I will always feel as though I am a part of his family - even though he and I did not work out. I know his parents, Don Adrean and Amparo, and Patty all think that he and I will still end up together one day, but it is just not going to happen. That is a whole different story, but let me just preface it with the fact that he is your normal Honduran and likes to have more than one girlfriend, which is not OK with me. That may be acceptable in Honduras, but that is one part of the Honduran culture that I would never be able to accept. So, even though Mermaid and I broke up, we were still friends, and I was still basically part of his family. I would visit his mom almost every day, and I was always spending time with his sisters - and obviously Don Adrean, Amparo, and Patty as they were my landlords and were always watching out for me.
So many other people and families took me in and and wanted to help me in every way they could - it would take a lot to explain them all to you, and that would probably get a little repetitive and boring, so I'll spare you. But, if you can take anything away from this, I want you to take away that Honduran people are open, generous and caring Of course there are people who don't fit into that mold and people who are extremists, but in my opinion, that is not the majority. Honduras currently has the highest murder rate in the world, but it kills me that people focus on that. The people causing that title are not the majority - they are the people involved in violence and drugs and they are giving my amazing Honduras a bad reputation.
Trying to explain to people why I want to go back, is complicated and they tend to focus on the bad - on the danger and the violence of bing in, and traveling, around Honduras. But that is not what I picture when I imagine going back to Honduras. I am picturing my host family, and all the other people that became my Honduran family. I miss Las Flores - the town that became my home away from home.
I had only been living in Las Flores for eight months, but I really did feel like it was my home. I had adjusted, made a routine, and enjoyed every aspect of my work. When it was time to leave, I was devastated. I know there were volunteers who breathed a sigh of relief when we were told that we had to leave, but I was not one of them. Yes, i thought about the fact that it was nice not to have to finish my two-year commitment, but after weighing out everything in my mind, that small part of it did not win. One more year would have been so easy. I had projects to look forward to that would have made the time go by quickly - I had friends and "family" to be with and I would have had more time to learn the language and the culture. I honestly feel like I was jipped.
Since I left, all I have been able to think about has been going back. Amanda, Nina and I even talked about going back and opening a bakery. We played around with a lot of ideas of going back and how we could make a living, but I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do any of them - especially after I found out about graduate school. But, I still needed to go back, I still had that draw. Part of this is for selfish reasons - I don't want Honduras to forget about me - I don't want Las Flores to forget about me. I want them to remember who I am and all that I did, and the friendships that were formed. My mom didn't understand why I felt the need to make a trip to Honduras before starting graduate school in August, and I couldn't quite explain it to her. But, to tell you the truth that was it. I don't want them to forget about me, and I don't want to forget about them. Being back in the United States, we all get drawn back in to the United States way of life. It doesn't take much, and honestly, it is not a bad thing, but I just don't want it. I want to keep Honduras at my finger tips, I want to remember my experiences and keep it all fresh in my mind.
I don't know exactly what I will accomplish by returning to Las Flores. I know that it will make me happy, though. It is something I feel the need to do, so I'm doing it. I will spend 10 days, not being a volunteer, which will be very weird and different in itself. I will, however, always remember everything I learned in Peace Corps and everything Juan Carlos taught us about being safe. Honduras - Las Flores specifically - will be a part of me for the rest of my life - I don't ever want to lose it and I am going to do what ever I can to not allow that to happen.
