The expired people

Not implying they are expired but they take the expired food off of the shelf. They come once, twice a month taking a few things, but this month they noticed me with wine in a cart. Using their keen sense of expired food, they thought it was expired so they began asking me questions. When does wine expire, and how come it does not have an expiration date? So after a very long, long exhausting talk are trying to convince the expiration people that, no wine does not have an expiration date… they called their boss- their boss called a doctor and they concluded that wine has to have an expiration date… Esposo then talked to them, and again tried to tell them, that no in fact wine does not have an expiration date… They said they would research it and get make to us. This week they came back and told that any alcohol over 10% does not need an expiration date. I should e-mail the French, I am sure they will be relived to know that the Honduran expired people concurred and wine does not need an expiration date.

The Veggie Stand Mystery

Juticalpa is not a city full of culinary wonders, neither is much of Honduras. The Vegetable stand in town because of this is pretty straight forward, they have the basics, about as extravagant as they get is grapes. But there is one thing they have that I cannot make sense of, eggplant. I have yet to see a Honduran cook with it, and only am aware of one restaurant in town that uses it… so why do they have it and who buys it?

The Options

So as we all know Democracy is the solution for every country. Honduras has seemed to grasp this concept very well, in fact they even grasped the two party system as well, the US should be awfully proud.

So the two nominees for president are Pepe and Elvin! A little background about the candidates (admittedly bias, and lacking large amounts of information)

Pepe is a communist, ran for president last election and barely lost, and from Olancho, (same as the current president)

Elvin is the current vice president, running for president illegally (Honduran law prohibits the vice president to run for president while currently in office), and the current president is generally

highly disliked.

As you can see, two outstanding candidates, now who would you vote for? Photo above is of PEPE

English Lesson

For some reason English has leaked into the central American Spanish in the most peculiar ways. Of course it cannot be straight English; it always has a few differences... I will give two word examples and you can try to figure out what they are...

Bixte

Confle

I will pretend to offer a prize, so reply away!

The reasons why

Here in Honduras being pregnant or having a child is as far as I can tell the pinnacle point in a woman’s life. Which is not necessarily wrong, just explains why mothers day here is on the same level as Christmas, and why there are so many Catholics.
This is why I am asked on a daily bases by people I do or don’t know, ask why I don't have any children. My answer, never changing, 'tomorrow' I once thought would defer this question has unfortunately not worked, as the same people keep on asking.
Perhaps the most amusing part of this is 'signs' that I could be pregnant. My favorite is when Esposo is sick (as he currently is) I MUST be pregnant. Yes you read that correctly. When Esposo is sick I must be pregnant. Second is if I want green mangos I must be pregnant. Third if Esposo and I go to Tegus. (the capital) I must be pregnant. Fourth and final if I throw up no matter if its all night and I have a fever, I must be pregnant. So as you can see... a very compelling case, but in fact, no, I am not pregnant… which of course baffles people here even more, don’t I want children?, if you wait to long you will be old, and you don’t want to be old and have children, and what about Esposo’s little cousin who was born this year, he needs a friend…. I could go on but I won’t. I will however finish out with a little story that is true, really it is.

A family that lives here in town has a few too many children, If I remember correctly 8. A nurse that works at the local hospital concerned with how many children this family had, and how they couldn’t afford even one child talked to the mother and gave her some birth control to take. About a year later the lady was back at the hospital with a ninth child, so the nurse asked, “how is that birth control working?” The mom replied “ I give it to my husband everyday but it doesn’t seem to work”

Politicians

Primary Elections are coming up here, it seems to me at least there are about 20 people running from each party but that could be because I don’t quite understand the offices. They however are very creative in the campaigning techniques. Some pick a song that is popular, and use it as their song, paying someone to drive a car around all day blaring the song and intermittently announce the candidate. A few candidates like to sort of buy their votes, the poorer people here ask them for food or money and depending the candidates send them over here to the store and he give them a bag of food (that the candidate pays for). The less creative way is that they like to plaster on any surface their face and number, as the ballot here has the candidate’s picture, number, and name as some people here are illiterate. All very fascinating but I cannot figure out what each candidate stands for, and I am fairly sure not many people do.

The visa run

Obtaining residency here is not necessarily hard, just annoying. After spend $60 to have my birth certificate sent to Honduras then to only learn that I need to spend another $20 and pay for the birth certificates round trip to get it apostatized (think of it as a certification the the original certificate is in fact real) along with my marriage certificate and my background check, I have decided to put my residency application on the back burner. The only problem with not having residency is that I only at the max (including the extension) get 120 days in the country, about four months. This time around the timing was right that it was better for me to not get the extension as november is a busy month and just to leave the country now(last week)... so off to Belize!

The trip was initally to last M-F but then you must remember I live in Honduras and when do things go as planed? Esposo and I originally planned to leave here Sunday and be in San Pedro Sula if not at the port where the boat took off... and it only takes off on Monday and only comes back on Friday. But Esposo's mom needed to go shopping in San Pedro Sula and needed someone to go with her so I was conned into it. Esposo was to take a bus to San Pedro Sula and be there Sunday afternoon, then he and I would drive over to the port park the car then drive all the way back home. Esposo's mom and his uncle who was also with us were going to take the bus back home. But it rained. And by rained it rained a lot to the point where the rivers broke over the bridges and cars could not go by. So Esposo did not come on Sunday and the bridges were not going to be passable on Monday either so Esposo decided to fly from Tegucigalpa to San Pedro Sula Monday morning. Luckily the weather was too bad for the boat to go on Monday, then on Tuesday, and then on Wednesday. But the roads were decent so Esposo's mom and uncle took the car back home. By this point (Wednesday) my visa was expired and I don't like to be in a country when my visa is expired. So we found that there was a way that we could get through Belize through Guatemala (Guatemala has a treaty with Honduras, so going there I am on the same Visa as Honduras) So with this in our heads Esposo and I were off. First by car, then walking, then motorcycle, then walking, then another motorcycle, then by bus, some more walking, and finally by boat. The boat ride was most memorable as there was only one other person. An older lady that was extremely calm, almost sleeping, and as Esposo and I were having our spines compressed as the small boat was slammed out of the water from the waves and the engine shut off then returned to the water with a huge slam. I thought to my self if this old lady is calm, as I am sure she was taken this boat ride many times, maybe this ride isn’t to bad. Then Esposo turned around then realized she wasn’t necessarily calm- she was praying.

So Belize overall was very, very, very calm. I was told that it is currently the slow season so I am unsure how touristy it is during tourist season. The food was tasty, everyone was so relaxed and also helpful. We went to the beach were the sand was obliviously made of sea shells that have been grinded in the ocean. Making the beach very beautiful and because it was the low season it seemed as though we had the beach to ourselves In Belize the national language is English but very Caribbean English which made it hard for me to understand what they were saying sometimes, and Esposo tended to resort to Spanish at times with was much, much easier to understand. So while we ended up having only about one whole day and two half days Belize and my visa run were very exciting and my residency application is becoming more important. .

Election

Living in Honduras, and really any country outsides the states but still being an American inevitable leads to people asking a question about politics. I don´t mind talking about politics I tend to enjoy it but I would like to propose a few laws for any one running in the general election in the United States. I worded that wrong, I would like to propose one thing, and it is really simple. You need to have left the country for at least a month. Seriously. Think the person running for vice presidency for the republican ticket has only left the country to visit the troops. That is ridiculous, I don´t really consider that leaving the country. I could simulate that experience on a trip to what ever desert you pick and throw in a few 20 year olds and there you go. I am just saying why would you elect someone to control the ´superpower´ of the world when they don´t even know what the world is.

Time and Honduras

I think it was about a two months ago I found a wonderful organization online based in Honduras and I was thrilled. Being the person that I am I called them (okay Esposo called them) and asked if they had any job openings, well they said yes and please send them my resume, and a cover letter in English and Spanish. I did.
Then they took me on a four day trip through a national park, which was amazing and I was ever more eager to have a job. Then a few weeks later they asked me for a letter of intent to present the board.. ohh and they needed it in English and Spanish the next day. So I did that.
I am currently waiting and waiting and waiting. I understand that I am american and I have that whole time thing going on but seriously.... this is crazy. it was been a about three weeks and every time we call the office the director is out. I suppose at this point I just want a yes or a no the waiting is killing me.

oops

This last month... and a half have been crazy. I am hoping to have an actual blog posted in the next few days, that and check my e-mail.

The Word

There always seems to be a word in a language that is hard for foreigners to say, but the locals relentlessly persuade you to attempt it over and over. They all seem to know the word, and all act like it’s the easiest thing to say in the language. In Spanish the word is otorrinolaringólogo. Yes, that is a word- it means nose doctor. I can now do a simi- decent attempt on the word but still far from perfect. I have racked my mind for a while now but finally come up with a word that seems about as difficult for them to say (I am kinda of proud of myself ) The word? Worcestershire sauce. Yeah, yeah I know technically two words but it is hard to compete with a language where electrodomesticos (domestic electronics) is one word. So next time someone prods me on to say otorrinolaringólogo, I will- and then ask them to say Worcestershire sauce.

My Food Obsessions

With every country comes food obsessions, these are mine.

Tajaditas -- Fried plantains, covered with shredded cabbage, a bit of feta like cheese on top, and a spicy red sauce poured on top.
Balladas -- A flour tortilla with refried red beans, a slab of a cream cheese like butter, and a sprinkle of white salty cheese.
Papusas – Two thick tortillas with cheese melted inside of them with a side of pickled onion, cabbage, jalapeño, and carrots.
Catrachas – A hard flat corn tortilla with a scoop of refried red beans on top a sprinkling of salty white cheese and a piece of avocado.

The Neighbor

Across the street from the store there is a plethora of little stores. English has no names for these stores, in Spanish there are pulperías, or bodeguitas, in Nepali they are pasals. No matter the language they are a sort of hole in the wall, or a tin roof with supports to hold it up and the size of a closet store. These stores are the economy, how people make money, and where most people spend their money.
In one of these stores there in an older man that likes to drink, the time of the day is no factor to when he drinks, because he drinks all day. Another thing this man likes is singing, and ´lucky´ for us he has a microphone and a speaker to make his singing heard for all those passing by. While I am sure that you can figure out from me writing this that his voice is painful awful he also has a few assets to contribute to this awfulness. One- he only has one CD for his karaoke singing and this CD has four songs on it, and he sing for hours. Two- he likes to drink, and as the day progress he drinks more and with that he forgets the words of the songs and ends up humming along. Third- and final, his store is directly across the street from the store and the speaker is consequently directly facing the entrance of the store, call it a free live concert.
So on Saturday afternoon when you think, man I wish I could be somewhere else in the world, I have a few easy steps to make you feel like you are, right in your house!
1. Turn on your heater I would say to 95
2. Have a friend that sings awful put on some ranchero music, and sing along as loud as they can. (it´s okay if they don’t speak Spanish, just pretend)
4. Invite of a few friends tell them just to stare at you and if you are female have one or two of them hit on you, if you are male have a few female friends dress as sluty as possible (think no shirt is too small and more cleavage is ALWAYS better) have these girls smile at you and you can pick and choose which one to pick up.
5. To be fair, have one friend sell mangos for a few cents for a sliced mango.

Enjoy for as long as you need.

Hot Dog

It´s hot now, I mean the tropical too much humidity sit and you sweat hot. This hotness somehow also correlates with no electricity at night which is really, well , awful. It comes down to two options at night- one open the window and get bit by hungry mosquito's or two- have the window shut and attempt to sleep in a puddle of sweat. I might note that option one only helps a wee wee fraction. I now however have the highest respect for the inventor of the air conditioner, but have a high level of destine for the electric company here.

Even our dog Castro is miserable at night as the photo shows all he wants to do it sleep, because he is tired from not being able to sleep because its too hot!

I may need to break out my bike soon..

Today is the first time I have witnessed a fuel shortage. It seems Honduras does not have diesel, and seeing how the majority of the car and trucks run on diesel it is pretty big problem. My mother-in-law´s husband stood in line for three hours to get diesel today, and this was in Juticalpa... I cant imagine the capital. The kinda funny part about this is that Honduras had a law about three weeks ago that made all cars and trucks with more than two doors to have a rest day one day a week, and if caught driving on that day you would get a ticket
This law was voted down after they had already sent out the stickers to put in your car to show which day you were not drive on- and was in place for a day or so. Go figure, a law that could have helped the shortage was voted down.
While the prices of gas and diesel might be high elsewhere in the world, at least you have it.

Mangos

I think perhaps because I grew up in Oregon I never really had a mango. I mean sure, I had those dried sweetened beyond belief mangos, or the grocery variety pick green and therefor rather pine tasting, but not a real mango. Not until of course until I traveled, where tropical fruits became well, just fruits. Esposo's grandpa brings me one everyday picked right from the tree, front door service. Rather amazing really, the odd part of this though is that most people here seem to prefer other fruits to mangos, or unripe mangos with chili. None the less I am enjoying my mango days even though I think I am allergic to them (oh well).

My karma

They tell me in happiness, they tell me in wish fullness, they tell me of the past, and they tell me of the future. They tell me about the USA. Its an odd feeling, they tell me they are going to the States, and by going I mean to live. How should I feel? They are going there to work and have a better life. Many will come back, some will stay. With the money they will build a house in Honduras, they will start a buisness and live a better life. Should I feel upset? They will be paid under the table if they are only there for a few years not paying taxes, they will be living in fear that they will be deported they whole time. They will be robbed, and they wont report it, they will be sick and work, they will do anything for that money. Do they deserve it? They go because there country is poor, they work Monday through Saturday from seven thirty in the morning to seven at night and get paid $200.00 a month, if they are lucky.
They are going to my country illegally through Mexico or by flying with a tourist with no plans on returning after that 6 month. How do you decided who is deserving? Is they family that flew there because the Dad stole large sums of money from the back deserving? Is the family with two kids and a working mom deserving? or perhaps is the Mom who has a job, an infant daughter, and a husband that is willing to leave it all? Who decidides? I dont want to.
By karma or their parents choices or what ever you happen to belive they where born at a time when there country was at its lowest economic state, and by good karma, or my parents decisions I was born into a country which happened to be economiclly powerful. Should I hold this against them, or should they hold it against me?

The Magic Cleaning Lady

Ohh the wonders. She comes to my house and cleans all morning on Tuesday, then returns on Friday to iron. There are few word to describe when you come home and the house is spotless or when all your clothes are washed and ironed. I swear its a magical feeling. I should probably explain the ´need´ for her... Juticalpa (Juti) is really really dust, you can dust one day and the next day you cant even tell that you dusted, which is highly exasperating. The ironing is something really Latin to me at least. Hondurans always like to look nice, and because of this ironed clothes is a necessity. For example if I went to the store with clothes that were not ironed everyone wold notice and would be shocked it´s kinda bazaar. With that all in mind I prefer my magic cleaning lady over, well myself doing it. I am also helping the local economy, sorta.

Dear Missionary

I write this letter to you with as much logic as possible. I understand that your church means a whole lot to you, and I am sure that you come here with the best of intentions to save the savage souls from the devil.
I do however have a newsbreak, people here in Honduras are very well aware of who Jesus and Maria is, and in fact they name their kids after them, they also plaster there car with godly messages, wear jewelry with their names, and even have towns with their names. So with this in mind I find it doubtful that by you doing your churchly duty and spending an ENTIRE week down here to build a church is going to make there life more Christan. If you wanted to do something helpful take the money you would have spent on a plane ticket and send they money to a charity of your choice. There are a ton here, send a kid to school, feed a family, buy clothes. The options are almost endless.
I am sure right now you have your reservations, your church is they only right church and all the other churches are wrong and by you coming here you could tell the people which church is right. The thing is that food that you could buy is a whole lot more important to a poor family than your my church is the only right church message.
Cheers

Yup, that was me.

On many a Sundays when we only work a half day at the store we travel to a town on 30min. away to watch the local soccer team. I have not gone to all the games but for sure more than half and most of the time the stadium is fairly full but this time the stadium was packed the soccer team was competing for ranks. This also meant that the TV and radio were all out broadcasting the game.
Let me take a quick side trip. Esposo´s family is fairly well known in the town and in the state also and because he is back he more recognized but also much easier to spot because well me. Gringas are so easy to spot. Okay let’s go back.
So Esposo and I are sitting the stands at half time and the radio guy of the national radio station looks over and sees Esposo and me... Come talk on the radio, because what is better than a spectator talking on radio? That’s easy! A gringa spectator talking on the radio! I refuse. My Spanish is bad, and yeah that’s it. My Spanish is bad. Esposo and radio guy persist. Fine I will talk. The radio guy first asks Esposo a few questions and then turns to me and asks me I swear ´how do I like it here´ or something along those lines. I answer back it’s nice, green, and complete. But I missed a word. Team. Yeah team. How is the team. A combination of my bad spanish and my assumptions. You see everybody asks me how I like Honduras, Olancho, Juticalpa. So I on national radio said the team was nice, green, and, complete... but the team is green.

My first...

The first.
This weekend two employees that work at the store brother was killed. While I know this may seem slightly morbid it was a very eye opening. I should preference this with a bit of information. The two sisters whose brother was killed are really half sister to each other so one lost her full brother the other half brother. We will call the full sister Maria and half sister Jaime. Maria has only worked for the store for a few weeks while Jaime has worked for I believe a year.
So on with the story,
Saturday night around closing time the sisters get the call that there brother has been killed, but one is at home and one at the store. Maria, at the store leaves immediately, but then after we close we get a phone call asking for help because Jaime has no way to get there. We arrive at the house and half the employees are there waiting for a ride to the site. The site being where the brother was killed.
When we arrive we find the police had just taken the body out of the car and were taking it to the yard of a nearby house that had an outdoor light. Maria who is only one year younger than myself suddenly begins wailing. I have never witnessed this sort of loudness in mourning, they scream is pain, they scream in madness, the scream of cruelty, they fight for a life that was taken. I am taken aback I have only read of this and in my mind only old people did this not someone my one age, but yet I am wrong. The screaming the crying continues as the police pull things from the brothers pockets, rip his shirt and take photos of the holes that took his life.
The taxi that he has driven is taken from the ditch that it was pushed down from a steep hill above, all this in front of a crowd that looks on with lack of emotion. The police don’t put a pretty white sheet over the body they don’t put yellow tape around to mark a boundary but the do ask for people when moving the body to a car. Death is different here. They ask the family if they can take the body to the capital to take ballistics of the bullets inside the body, but the family turns it down. Whoever killed the brother did so with an unregistered gun, they have no false preferences in government justice.
The brother is taken to the house of one of the sisters. Esposo, I and another employee go and open up the store to find clothes for the brother, and coffee and soda for the mourners.
The mourners will be at the house all night long and morning too they will come and go sit around the house, in the street to be there. The family wails all night long, the brother is lying in a casket that came from nowhere and dressed in the clothes we found for him. The mother has no shoes so we give her some, the day brother died.
Brother is buried the next day, a slow stream of people walk behind the car as it creeps through the empty streets of Sunday to the cemetery.

I am told by family that brother had no enemies, the driver of the taxi he was driving and only acquired two days previous had enemies. I am told by other people he was a cocaine dealer.