Greetings family and friends,
Because I waited so long to get this blog started I am trying to get it caught up without passing over important things. Once I get caught up I doubt that I will update my blog this frequently. (Sorry Mom)
Ok, where were we. Yes, moving on from training and arriving in site. It was Saturday, the 11th of September. I am sure every American thinks about 9/11 every time we arrive at it’s anniversary. Even though I was in Honduras and about to officially embark on my journey as a Peace Corps Volunteer, the fact that the date was 9/11 was still in the back of mind.
The plan was to meet my Honduran counter-part at the road outside of my house at 6:30 a.m. I, as always, waited for the last minute to start packing. So I awoke very, very early and once again, packed up every thing that I owned into three bags. I said goodbye to my host family and ensured them that I would visit them soon. My host Dad, a quiet, hard working man said to me, “No olvide esta casa” (Do not forget this house). He gave me hug and went back to his house. I was surprised by the demonstration of emotion. Not to say he was cold or distant. Anything but in fact. It is just that he has had many Peace Corps trainees stay with him and his family before. And I could not even say anything in Spanish when I arrived. This family welcomed me into their home. What I failed to understand until that moment was that they welcomed me into their hearts. I will miss them and forever be thankful for what they did for me. I look forward to visiting them when I can.
Not before long, my counter- part arrived with his car. We loaded up my things, and before I knew it, I was on my way. My counter-part is a nice, young thirties aged man, who is the director of the high school. I could tell instantly that we were a good match. On the four or five hour drive (we made stops, a lot of stops) we talked about our favorite American presidents and our least favorite presidents. I explained to him some American history and he was more to happy to explain to me parts of the Honduran political system and some of it’s history. I truly am fortunate to have him as a counter-part.
To arrive in Reitoca, you need to drive over/through/around the mountains. To call the road that you have to take in “a road” is generous. The dirt roads very quickly turn into muddy traps during the Rain Season, thus, at times making the roads are impassable. Yes, it is the Rain Season right now and there were times when I was not sure if the car was going to make it. So while that led to some frustration it was for sure counter acted by the sheer beauty of the drive. Moving up and down the mountains is absolutely amazing. For those who plan to visit me, (which you all should) prepare for some of the most breath taking views in the world. You travel along the base of the mountains looking up at these majestic beauties and then you move up the mountains. Before you know it, you are in the clouds looking down. It felt as if I could see the whole world. I have to go to Tegucigalpa this coming week. I will be sure to take photos and post them soon.
Once I arrived into site, my counter-part invited me into his home where I met his wife and children. They were all very welcoming. While at his house, he showed me his library. He has an impressive home library despite the poverty of Reitoca. He was nice enough to lend me a few Honduran history books. He told me to read them because right now he is and American history book. We made plans to take about our respective countries’ histories later. I cannot express how fortunate I feel to have him in my site as a counter-part. After that, it was time to meet the new host family.
I was surprisingly nervous walking into my new host family’s house. I had no idea what to expect and I am not exactly great at small talk, let alone small talk in Spanish. Meeting host families is always a little awkward at first. But my concerns we quickly alleviated when I walked in. My host mom and her mid twenties daughter were there waiting for me. I immediately felt welcomed but at the same time I did not feel like I was being doted on. She took me to my room, and o my, it is awesome. I have my bed, pila, and toilet all in my room. A pila is more or less an above ground well with a faucet above it. About two to three times a week we get fresh water. It is a rush to fill up your pila before the water in the town dries up. I use that water to shower, brush my teeth, and flush the toilet. We also have a pila outside to wash clothes and one in the kitchen to was dishes. But seriously, a pila in my room, I got lucky. You know you have adjusted to the Peace Corps life when you get excited about your own private pila.
I spent that Saturday and Sunday getting to know the new host family and settling into my new community. All and all, things were starting out great. But before I knew it, Monday was here and it was time to get to work. My project is Youth Development so I have three main institutions that I work with. First, the town high school. Second, the town primary school. Third, a NGO called ADACAR (Development of the Areas of Cuaren, Alubrean, and Reitoca). Not sure on the spelling of the other two towns. ADACAR, I think, is funded by ChildFund. This organization focuses on youth education outside the classrooms and assisting the schools in surrounding villages that have less teachers than grades.
So the day was Monday, first work day and I was ready. I wanted to jump into it head first and get my hands dirty. And I forgot probably the biggest difference between the Honduran and American cultures. The pace of your lifestyle. Hondurans are hard working individuals who take great pride in their work. However, the American necessity to always perform at the highest efficiency at all times and desire to be so business orientated is not here in Honduras. As a result, I quickly was disappointed with my first two weeks of work. Instead of jumping into class rooms and teaching I went and observed classes. I met people and spent my days talking to townspeople and teachers. I had to take time to introduce myself to the people of Reitoca. I was frustrated by the lack of structured work. I committed a big error that many PCV’s commit. Enter their site without patience. However, I kept my grumblings to myself and focused my energy into gaining the trust of my community. Looking back on it, it would have been wrong of me to do it my way. I needed to gain their trust before I could have a fruitful and professional relationship. There were moments of boredom, embarrassment on the soccer field, and awkward miscommunications in Spanish. I was taking some much needed lessons in humility.
But after two weeks of meetings, social events, embarrassing soccer games, and tours of schools I was ready. And my counter parts have been great in responding to me. I just finished up my second week of classes at the high school and primary school. We are in six week class about drugs and alcohol abuse prevention. We do not have six weeks left in the school year so the class will be condensed. But the classes are going well. Right now, I have eight classes in all and it is for sure keeping me busy. And tomorrow is the first day of basketball practice. Yes, you read that right. I, Patrick Helling, the worst basketball player in the world, is going to coaching a basketball team. We only have one ball and coach who is terrible at the game. So, vamos a ver (we’ll see). Work has picked up and it is only going to increase with my work at ADACAR starting next week. I have a feeling my bored moments in my hammock are going to become fewer and farer between. I can’t wait!
The climate here is not too hot. Do not get me wrong, it is hot. But it is not unbearable. Right now we are in the end of the rainy season. In fact, I recently survived my first tropical storm. Luckily for me and the people of Reitoca there was no damage here. We simply had six days of straight rain and overcast. I have never been a person who has had changing moods with the weather, but I was happy when the sun came out. I am getting a little worried that the rainy season is over. We have not had rain for three days and I have not seen a cloud in two. For what I know of Honduran weather, this is rare. I hear when the rainy season ends it gets so hot it is miserable. While I am sick of rain, I am not looking forward to six months of strong and terrible heat.
So in short, that is how things have been going here. I have been trying to keep track of things back in the States. From what I understand, I should avoid reading about politics because Obama’s numbers continue to drop and Congressional Democrats are updating their resumes in preparation for November. And yes, I know, the Cubs were terrible this year. It seems I picked a good time to leave. But, the Huskers are on a roll! I have been watching the games on game tracker. Not exactly the best way to watch a game, but it is the best I got. If we end up playing for the national championship I am going to have to find a way to watch it. If that means going home for one day, I might just have to. Ok, gotta run, love and miss you all!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Ok, so I am little late starting this up.
Greetings family and friends!!
So, yes, the date is the 6th of October and yes, I arrived in country on the 23rd of June. And this is my first blog entry. A bit of an epic fail on my part. I have really failed to document this experience. So I am starting now!
One of the down sides about waiting three and half months to start a blog is that now, I have no idea where to start. So, I will try to give you all the scores and highlights of my first three months in Honduras. To begin, we got into country on June 23. The first thing that catches your eye when you land in Tegucigalpa is the amazing landscape. Being from St. Louis, mountains is not something I am used to. But let me tell, there are a ton of mountains here in Honduras. And they are beautiful. I have never seen anything like it. It is hard to explain the feeling that I had stepping outside of the airport, breathing real Honduran air for the first time. To those who are reading, I do not know if you have had a moment like this. It felt as if every moment of my life was building up to this moment, I needed to be here, and I had the rest of my life at my finger tips. I was a unique and amazing feeling that I will never forget.
Before I knew it, we were in the swing of training and Spanish class. You see, I thought it would be a good idea to move to Honduras for two years without any competency in Spanish. Needless to say, the language barrier was the most daunting task in front of me. To make an understatement, I was freaking out. I was living with a host family without the ability to talk or express how I felt. For those that know me well understand that taking away my ability to talk is a cruel, cruel thing. As time progressed with training I became more and more worried that I would not be able reach to Spanish level necessary to become an official volunteer. People told me to trust the process, I did not. I had countless nights trying so hard to talk with my host families, studying flash cards, and trying to read in Spanish. Perhaps the stress about Spanish is the reason why I have lost so much weight since I have been here. But, my teachers, bosses, and friends were right. After a lot of hard work, support from my friends, and countless Spanish classes I got to the level I needed to be. Every trainee needed to reach the level of intermediate medium in order to be sworn in. I finished at intermediate high. Graduating from college and high school were moments when I felt proud of myself. Those moments I did not feel bad patting myself on the back. Reaching the level of intermediate high in Spanish in eleven weeks was better. Thank you to my friends and teachers, I could not have done it without you. (Anna Maria, you were the best, thank you so much for everything!)
Obviously, homesickness, culture shock, and the inability to ask where the bathroom is were big obstacles to overcome. However, I have to vent about something that may seem trivial, but I promise, it was not. The food. So as all of you know, I am from the Midwest. Specifically, I like to think of having homes in Missouri, Kansas, and Nebraska. While I love these states and have great memories in all of them; they are not exactly the beacon of cultural diversity in America. Even more so when it comes to a Hispanic influence. Seriously, to us Midwesterners Cinco de Mayo is just another Tuesday and we drink Jose Cuervo because Bud Light Lime sucks. Honestly, I could count on the my hands the number of times I ate beans in my life before I came here. When I went to a Mexican Restaurant in the States I always ordered my plate without beans. I hated beans. And really, tortillas? Do not get me wrong, I made a mean cheese tortilla with my George Forman Grill when I was in college. But certainly not with every meal. And, the tortillas down here are not the same. First dinner in Honduras, I will never forget it. Big plate of beans, rice, tortillas, and this weird thing called queso. Now, I know what you are thinking, “that is cheese.” O no! I am here to set the record straight. Queso is not cheese. It is nasty, tastes sour, and apparently, goes on everything. Not to exaggerate, but I almost vomited my first dinner. I have a friend, who will remain nameless. One night at dinner, this friend of mine put the queso in his/her mouth while his/her host family was watching and when they looked away he/she took the queso out and stuck in his/her pocket (You know who you are!). That is how bad the food was at first.
But I had a theory to overcome the involuntary impulse to gag at the sight of queso and beans. Like Spanish I just had to push through everyday. You see, in college, I put on a few pounds because I had acquired a taste for beer and chicken wings. Therefore, I had to acquire a liking of running my senior year to counter act the beer and chicken wings. And now, I love running, I do it almost every day. So, with that in mind, I tried out a theory that one can grow to like anything, no matter how bad it tastes or how much it hurts. Think about it, who loved running the first time they went for a jog. And who tasted a good glass of scotch the first time and said “wow, that tasted great.” No one. With a determined heart I ate every bean, tortilla, and block of queso that was put in front of me. It was terrible, I complained in my head a lot, and my body hated me for it. But now, I have beans almost every day and I actually like them now. I willingly buy beans and tortillas with a smile on my face. Queso, however, still no. I am still working on that. But I can live with two out of three.
Overall, training was great. I made some amazing friends. How could I not. We were in a foreign country without our friends and family. We were in a different culture with different language, foods, customs, lifestyles, and attitudes. We literally left behind everything that was familiar. The only thing that we could hold onto were each other. I am surprised by the strong and lasting bonds that I have made with the people of H-17. Because of what we went through together we have something together that is so hard to describe. I feel confident we will continue to support each other and strengthen the strong bond that we already have.
After all the beans, homesickness, awkward moments, and struggle, we, as a group, were sworn in together on September 10th, 2010. Every person that came to Houston on June 22nd was sworn in. We did not lose anyone. I like to think that is because of the support and love we gave each other during the eleven weeks of training. That is certainly a day that I do not think I will forget. One reason why is because my colleagues voted that I and another colleague of mine give a speech, in Spanish, at the U.S. Embassy in front the ambassador to the United States, all of our colleagues, Spanish teachers, bosses, and our Honduran counter-parts. All and all, around 150 people would be my guess. Because of my struggles with Spanish, the days leading up to the Swearing-In Ceremony were stressful. But I survived, and I feel that my speech was received well.
But perhaps the moment that I will remember more than anything about that day was actually being sworn in. We stood tall and together. 57 young Americans, in a foreign and strange land, that only wanted to do their part. We all recognized that we were not going to save the world or single handily fix the problems of Honduras. But if we all do the best we can, for Honduras, for America, for peace, and most importantly, for each other, than maybe we could make a difference for the better. I was on the National Mall when Barack Obama became our President. But that day in Tegucigalpa was the most proud I had ever been to be an American. Right after we took the oath a dark and deep thunder sounded off in the distance. It seemed as if the heavens were reminding us of the gravity of our commitment that we just made. It was as if someone was telling us, “you have no idea what you just got yourselves into.” It was eerie but oddly encouraging at the same time. Once again, I felt as if every moment of my life had been building to this and that the rest of my life was at my finger tips. Needless to say, I was ready to get into site and tackle Reitoca head on. But first, we were going to celebrate on last night together, and celebrate we did.
I have been in site now for three and half weeks. And to explain what I have been doing will take more time and it is getting late and I have to teach tomorrow. So, for now, do not worry about me. There have been hard moments. I have had second thoughts. But I want to be here. I am happy here. I love my site, Reitoca. The people here have been so nice and welcoming. I imagine I will post something again soon. Within a week. I hope all is well back at home. I cannot describe how much I love you all and how homesick I am. Until next time. Love you all!!
So, yes, the date is the 6th of October and yes, I arrived in country on the 23rd of June. And this is my first blog entry. A bit of an epic fail on my part. I have really failed to document this experience. So I am starting now!
One of the down sides about waiting three and half months to start a blog is that now, I have no idea where to start. So, I will try to give you all the scores and highlights of my first three months in Honduras. To begin, we got into country on June 23. The first thing that catches your eye when you land in Tegucigalpa is the amazing landscape. Being from St. Louis, mountains is not something I am used to. But let me tell, there are a ton of mountains here in Honduras. And they are beautiful. I have never seen anything like it. It is hard to explain the feeling that I had stepping outside of the airport, breathing real Honduran air for the first time. To those who are reading, I do not know if you have had a moment like this. It felt as if every moment of my life was building up to this moment, I needed to be here, and I had the rest of my life at my finger tips. I was a unique and amazing feeling that I will never forget.
Before I knew it, we were in the swing of training and Spanish class. You see, I thought it would be a good idea to move to Honduras for two years without any competency in Spanish. Needless to say, the language barrier was the most daunting task in front of me. To make an understatement, I was freaking out. I was living with a host family without the ability to talk or express how I felt. For those that know me well understand that taking away my ability to talk is a cruel, cruel thing. As time progressed with training I became more and more worried that I would not be able reach to Spanish level necessary to become an official volunteer. People told me to trust the process, I did not. I had countless nights trying so hard to talk with my host families, studying flash cards, and trying to read in Spanish. Perhaps the stress about Spanish is the reason why I have lost so much weight since I have been here. But, my teachers, bosses, and friends were right. After a lot of hard work, support from my friends, and countless Spanish classes I got to the level I needed to be. Every trainee needed to reach the level of intermediate medium in order to be sworn in. I finished at intermediate high. Graduating from college and high school were moments when I felt proud of myself. Those moments I did not feel bad patting myself on the back. Reaching the level of intermediate high in Spanish in eleven weeks was better. Thank you to my friends and teachers, I could not have done it without you. (Anna Maria, you were the best, thank you so much for everything!)
Obviously, homesickness, culture shock, and the inability to ask where the bathroom is were big obstacles to overcome. However, I have to vent about something that may seem trivial, but I promise, it was not. The food. So as all of you know, I am from the Midwest. Specifically, I like to think of having homes in Missouri, Kansas, and Nebraska. While I love these states and have great memories in all of them; they are not exactly the beacon of cultural diversity in America. Even more so when it comes to a Hispanic influence. Seriously, to us Midwesterners Cinco de Mayo is just another Tuesday and we drink Jose Cuervo because Bud Light Lime sucks. Honestly, I could count on the my hands the number of times I ate beans in my life before I came here. When I went to a Mexican Restaurant in the States I always ordered my plate without beans. I hated beans. And really, tortillas? Do not get me wrong, I made a mean cheese tortilla with my George Forman Grill when I was in college. But certainly not with every meal. And, the tortillas down here are not the same. First dinner in Honduras, I will never forget it. Big plate of beans, rice, tortillas, and this weird thing called queso. Now, I know what you are thinking, “that is cheese.” O no! I am here to set the record straight. Queso is not cheese. It is nasty, tastes sour, and apparently, goes on everything. Not to exaggerate, but I almost vomited my first dinner. I have a friend, who will remain nameless. One night at dinner, this friend of mine put the queso in his/her mouth while his/her host family was watching and when they looked away he/she took the queso out and stuck in his/her pocket (You know who you are!). That is how bad the food was at first.
But I had a theory to overcome the involuntary impulse to gag at the sight of queso and beans. Like Spanish I just had to push through everyday. You see, in college, I put on a few pounds because I had acquired a taste for beer and chicken wings. Therefore, I had to acquire a liking of running my senior year to counter act the beer and chicken wings. And now, I love running, I do it almost every day. So, with that in mind, I tried out a theory that one can grow to like anything, no matter how bad it tastes or how much it hurts. Think about it, who loved running the first time they went for a jog. And who tasted a good glass of scotch the first time and said “wow, that tasted great.” No one. With a determined heart I ate every bean, tortilla, and block of queso that was put in front of me. It was terrible, I complained in my head a lot, and my body hated me for it. But now, I have beans almost every day and I actually like them now. I willingly buy beans and tortillas with a smile on my face. Queso, however, still no. I am still working on that. But I can live with two out of three.
Overall, training was great. I made some amazing friends. How could I not. We were in a foreign country without our friends and family. We were in a different culture with different language, foods, customs, lifestyles, and attitudes. We literally left behind everything that was familiar. The only thing that we could hold onto were each other. I am surprised by the strong and lasting bonds that I have made with the people of H-17. Because of what we went through together we have something together that is so hard to describe. I feel confident we will continue to support each other and strengthen the strong bond that we already have.
After all the beans, homesickness, awkward moments, and struggle, we, as a group, were sworn in together on September 10th, 2010. Every person that came to Houston on June 22nd was sworn in. We did not lose anyone. I like to think that is because of the support and love we gave each other during the eleven weeks of training. That is certainly a day that I do not think I will forget. One reason why is because my colleagues voted that I and another colleague of mine give a speech, in Spanish, at the U.S. Embassy in front the ambassador to the United States, all of our colleagues, Spanish teachers, bosses, and our Honduran counter-parts. All and all, around 150 people would be my guess. Because of my struggles with Spanish, the days leading up to the Swearing-In Ceremony were stressful. But I survived, and I feel that my speech was received well.
But perhaps the moment that I will remember more than anything about that day was actually being sworn in. We stood tall and together. 57 young Americans, in a foreign and strange land, that only wanted to do their part. We all recognized that we were not going to save the world or single handily fix the problems of Honduras. But if we all do the best we can, for Honduras, for America, for peace, and most importantly, for each other, than maybe we could make a difference for the better. I was on the National Mall when Barack Obama became our President. But that day in Tegucigalpa was the most proud I had ever been to be an American. Right after we took the oath a dark and deep thunder sounded off in the distance. It seemed as if the heavens were reminding us of the gravity of our commitment that we just made. It was as if someone was telling us, “you have no idea what you just got yourselves into.” It was eerie but oddly encouraging at the same time. Once again, I felt as if every moment of my life had been building to this and that the rest of my life was at my finger tips. Needless to say, I was ready to get into site and tackle Reitoca head on. But first, we were going to celebrate on last night together, and celebrate we did.
I have been in site now for three and half weeks. And to explain what I have been doing will take more time and it is getting late and I have to teach tomorrow. So, for now, do not worry about me. There have been hard moments. I have had second thoughts. But I want to be here. I am happy here. I love my site, Reitoca. The people here have been so nice and welcoming. I imagine I will post something again soon. Within a week. I hope all is well back at home. I cannot describe how much I love you all and how homesick I am. Until next time. Love you all!!
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