It's official: my entire family has now come down to visit. Mom and Dad came over Christmas last year, James came for Easter, and David just left after his Thanksgiving visit.
We hit the beginning of his trip pretty hard and ended pretty light. Any day that I was working, I was able to get a wonderful breakfast over at the hotel.
I had school on Wednesday. So he just slept to recover from his travels. When I got home we went into town, walked around, saw a few things, and ate dinner. Thursday we wanted to go on the Canopy Tour, but it didn't pan out. Originally we thought we'd still be able to go in the afternoon, so we went to the bird park. I had my first “yeah, that's what happens when you hang out around a pissed off animal, even if you're not messing with it or even in it's vicinity—it can fly” experience when a bird flew at me, clung to my shirt, and clamped down on my arm. It was unexpected to say the least. When we found out that we would not be going to the Canopy Tour, we instead went to the ruins before they closed. All the English speaking guides were already out, but between my Spanish-ish and Cid's Spanish, we made it work. I was really excited at how much I understood for myself (sometimes even correcting details that Cid missed) but it was nice to have someone actually fluent to fill in the gaps. It was a wonderful way to spend Thanksgiving.
We were able to go on the Canopy Tour in the morning. Unfortunately for me, I made poor decisions the day before and regretted them for the rest of the night. Around 6 water became an option, and a wonderfully vital one, and by breakfast time at the hotel I was taking 30-45 minutes to eat my plate of fruit and just as long if not longer on the two plain waffles. It was all fine, as the problem was already taken care of, and most of the day's problems were simply to result of tiredness and dehydration.
Luckily, I'm better at mornings, so I was able to enjoy the tour and we just took the rest of the day easy, which was fine, because those two days combined had whipped us out.
Saturday we got up early and toured up to the pottery aldea of Llanitios. It was fun, and the guide was nice. Usually their tours are about 3 hours, but I asked for a special tour to a particular place where we then hung out, made and ate food, and chatted with Dona Lucas. We paid for the guide's food and David got some nick-nacks from her pottery wall. Then, we rode back down into town, thought the horses were rather tired by then.
Sunday was mass followed by hanging out and talking. We caught up and did a little bit of tourist shopping. We discussed the different experiences different cultures can bring to the church, but the sameness it can still retain.
Monday I went back to work, and I was in no mind to work, and the kids were in no mind to listen, and David came early in the day and all and all we were all off. We got through though, and then David and I played tourists in the shops (or I played and he embodied) and did his bit to help the local economy. I got an awesome new bag that carries my computer and all my school books and isn't my backpack. We had our last dinner, hung out for a little while, and went to bed early.
By 4:45 we were out in the morning. There were no taxis, so we walked down, with all the stuff, to the bus station. We were early, but that's fine. I waiting around until he loaded up and then walked back up the hill to finish getting ready for school. I then taught, a little more back to normal pace, had tutoring after school, walked into town for tutoring with Isaac, went to class where I talked about it all, and went home to have Sarah-is-alone time in my hammock, which is now up on my porch.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
It's Time to Start Thinking Forward...
I've recently been coming to terms with the fact that my entire, for all intents and purposes, adult life has been here, in the mountains of Copan Ruinas, Honduras. Imagining my life in a year, is nearly impossible. It's so easy to imagine being a part of my old life in the States, but whatever life I go back to, it will not be my old life, and besides, it's really hard to imagine not being here. This place houses almost all of my independence.
On the other hand, I cannot imagine not being in Virginia. Despite moving to another country and living there for two years, the idea of moving to a foreign State is simply beyond me. I suppose that in part it is because I can't imagine leaving here for anything that isn't home. This place has become my home, so to give it up, it almost has to be so that I can return to the things and people I miss.
I have rolled around ideas, such as staying in Honduras, but at a school where I can further my other academic goals. Or leaving VA for other alternative certification programs. I've thought of looking for jobs at schools that don't really care if I'm already certified and would help me get there, but at the end of my thought process comes this:
Most of these alternative methods will only get me certified, and, eventually, I want my masters. Once I have my masters, my options will be pretty limitless, so I might as well buckle down and just get it done.
However, I need about a years worth of undergraduate credits in order to even get certified. I'm basically a career switcher, because the original plan was to go into Secondary Ed. Now, I'm lacking in a lot of the basics I need to be a primary teacher.
The programs I have talked to told me that I can get my undergraduate credits taken care of while I'm in the program, and I think I would if it was 3 classes. However, with as many as I need, I think I'm looking at a year of community college followed by about 2 years more of school.
Three more years. And then, where? William and Mary seems to make the most economical sense, but I simple can't move back home for three years. I'm going to have to find another way. Longwood also has a draw on me because it's already known. Anywhere in Virginia has the in-state advantage.
It's hard to imagine not going back, but it's also very difficult to go back to a world in which I have nothing. I'm like a child in the States. If I go to another State for school, I still have to build up from nothing. I have to create community all over again. Even in Virginia that will be true to a certain extent.
This is why I hate moving and I hate change. It's weird, because I came down here. But it was scary too. I want some kind of magic to bring me back to the States, but with a sturdy foundation already in place. That's simply not possible. What I have to keep telling myself is that I cling to the notion of home very hard, but where ever I go, that seems to be the home I'm clinging to.
On the other hand, I cannot imagine not being in Virginia. Despite moving to another country and living there for two years, the idea of moving to a foreign State is simply beyond me. I suppose that in part it is because I can't imagine leaving here for anything that isn't home. This place has become my home, so to give it up, it almost has to be so that I can return to the things and people I miss.
I have rolled around ideas, such as staying in Honduras, but at a school where I can further my other academic goals. Or leaving VA for other alternative certification programs. I've thought of looking for jobs at schools that don't really care if I'm already certified and would help me get there, but at the end of my thought process comes this:
Most of these alternative methods will only get me certified, and, eventually, I want my masters. Once I have my masters, my options will be pretty limitless, so I might as well buckle down and just get it done.
However, I need about a years worth of undergraduate credits in order to even get certified. I'm basically a career switcher, because the original plan was to go into Secondary Ed. Now, I'm lacking in a lot of the basics I need to be a primary teacher.
The programs I have talked to told me that I can get my undergraduate credits taken care of while I'm in the program, and I think I would if it was 3 classes. However, with as many as I need, I think I'm looking at a year of community college followed by about 2 years more of school.
Three more years. And then, where? William and Mary seems to make the most economical sense, but I simple can't move back home for three years. I'm going to have to find another way. Longwood also has a draw on me because it's already known. Anywhere in Virginia has the in-state advantage.
It's hard to imagine not going back, but it's also very difficult to go back to a world in which I have nothing. I'm like a child in the States. If I go to another State for school, I still have to build up from nothing. I have to create community all over again. Even in Virginia that will be true to a certain extent.
This is why I hate moving and I hate change. It's weird, because I came down here. But it was scary too. I want some kind of magic to bring me back to the States, but with a sturdy foundation already in place. That's simply not possible. What I have to keep telling myself is that I cling to the notion of home very hard, but where ever I go, that seems to be the home I'm clinging to.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Walking vs. Riding
On Monday, I had a bit of a premonition experience. I woke up, and refused to believe it was time to get up. I simply could not believe it was 5 o'clock. Granted, I'd been up more than an hour later than usual on Sunday night (I was up until 9:40!) but I still couldn't believe that the amount of rest I had gotten was the amount of rest I was going to have to trudge through with. Nope. Not possible. I was so convinced, that I came to the conclusion that my fancy-pants radio alarm clock, that is set to a time zone, had reset itself in the night to daylight savings time. My clock still thinks we're in the States. However, upon checking my phone and watch, I had to face that it was 5, or by not, 5:30, and time to get up.
This morning, I woke up to my alarm, and felt amazing. I had gone to bed at 8:30 and woke up to my alarm at 5. At 5, except the sun was already shining. At 5, except the street noises were too loud. At 5, except my alarm had reset itself a few days too late and it was really 6. 6, which means the bus would be leaving the bus stop, which is 3 minutes from my house, in about 4 minutes. No go.
I skipped some of my normal routine and got ready in 15 minutes and then did something I haven't done in weeks. Something I did every day last year, but have somehow avoided this year almost entirely. I say “somehow” but really, I mean that there's a new bus driver who come by at 6 and gets me to school by 6:15, which is the most bang for my buck. I still get there fairly early, but I have more time in the house, and in bed. When I miss the bus, I usually end up catching a ride with one of the Honduran staff members on their way to school.
But today, I walked. I forgot why I liked it so much. I still think I'll usually end up taking the bus, but I there are some things I need to remember to appreciate about my walk to school.
Being in Honduras, I find myself in a giant bubble, lacking in news, current events, and the culture that I will one day return to. This became obvious to me when I was home over the summer. After just one year, the day-to-day cultural references were completely out of my grasp. I can only imagine what it will be like after two years. However, by being a Mayatan teacher and a gringa, I'm in another bubble. I'm not really apart of the day-to-day happenings and culture here either. Most of the people I associate with are ex-pats, fellow teachers, or tourists. I do have Honduras friends, but I find that most of the time spent together is still not similar to the daily interactions I sometimes glimpse when I'm walking around town.
There are a variety of people who frequent my walk to school, in the opposite direction. When I walk regularly, I form a kind of 5-second-a-day relationship with them. But we recognize each other and when we see each other outside of our work, we are friendly. I like that relationship, but I do wish I was more outgoing, and more able to be closer to more locals. It's one of those things I've been working on.
When I walk, I have the opportunity to glimpse very small, but significant day-to-day interactions. I live a pampered life here. It's easy to get caught up in it. My house is comfortable, my shower is warm, I have a fridge, a stove, and a small oven. This is how my Honduran friends, most of them, live, but it is certainly not the norm.
This morning, I woke up to my alarm, and felt amazing. I had gone to bed at 8:30 and woke up to my alarm at 5. At 5, except the sun was already shining. At 5, except the street noises were too loud. At 5, except my alarm had reset itself a few days too late and it was really 6. 6, which means the bus would be leaving the bus stop, which is 3 minutes from my house, in about 4 minutes. No go.
I skipped some of my normal routine and got ready in 15 minutes and then did something I haven't done in weeks. Something I did every day last year, but have somehow avoided this year almost entirely. I say “somehow” but really, I mean that there's a new bus driver who come by at 6 and gets me to school by 6:15, which is the most bang for my buck. I still get there fairly early, but I have more time in the house, and in bed. When I miss the bus, I usually end up catching a ride with one of the Honduran staff members on their way to school.
But today, I walked. I forgot why I liked it so much. I still think I'll usually end up taking the bus, but I there are some things I need to remember to appreciate about my walk to school.
Being in Honduras, I find myself in a giant bubble, lacking in news, current events, and the culture that I will one day return to. This became obvious to me when I was home over the summer. After just one year, the day-to-day cultural references were completely out of my grasp. I can only imagine what it will be like after two years. However, by being a Mayatan teacher and a gringa, I'm in another bubble. I'm not really apart of the day-to-day happenings and culture here either. Most of the people I associate with are ex-pats, fellow teachers, or tourists. I do have Honduras friends, but I find that most of the time spent together is still not similar to the daily interactions I sometimes glimpse when I'm walking around town.
There are a variety of people who frequent my walk to school, in the opposite direction. When I walk regularly, I form a kind of 5-second-a-day relationship with them. But we recognize each other and when we see each other outside of our work, we are friendly. I like that relationship, but I do wish I was more outgoing, and more able to be closer to more locals. It's one of those things I've been working on.
When I walk, I have the opportunity to glimpse very small, but significant day-to-day interactions. I live a pampered life here. It's easy to get caught up in it. My house is comfortable, my shower is warm, I have a fridge, a stove, and a small oven. This is how my Honduran friends, most of them, live, but it is certainly not the norm.
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