Buenas Noches from Honduras!
I’m sitting just outside of Carlos Mejia’s house in San
Pedro Sula, enjoying the late-afternoon breeze that is finally sweeping away
some of today’s thick heat. I recently finished a cup of Honduran coffee, which,
as rumor would have it, is the best coffee in the world, and I’m attempting to
keep myself from gorging on the family’s recent purchase of chicharron flavored
chifle (banana chips and pork grinds.) Today is a good day.
So let’s recap.
After a quick layover in Panama, we arrived in Honduras
Friday night. Carlos Mejia picked us up in the airport and we quickly swang by
his house in San Pedro Sula, before going to dinner to eat a Honduran favorite:
Baleadas. Baleadas are a big tortilla stuffed with beans, cheese, and butter, then
topped off with your choice of side: chicken, pork, eggs, avocado etc. Now I
know what you’re thinking—all the ingredients in this sound totally normal
except for the butter. Why is their butter in this? And, isn’t this just a
burrito? No. It’s not a burrito. And yes, the butter is necessary. I have no
idea why, but the butter is better here and is magically delicious.
Anyway, I got my baleada with eggs and chorizo and it was delicious.
I also found out that baleadas give you what I have dubbed “the pancake effect.”
This is where you don’t realize that you’re incredibly full until it’s too
late, then you walk around stuffed to the gills with food, swearing that the
food is continuing to expand while inside of you. Needless to say, our full
stomachs ensured that we slept well that night.
Carlos preaching Sunday morning in San Pedro Sula. |
Saturday we had a little more time to get to know the
family. Carlos and his wife, Carmen, have two daughters, Carla, a public
defender, and Carmen Luisa, who is currently a stay-at-home mom with her
two-year-old son, David. Carmen Lusia and her husband, Ronald, live right next
door to Carlos and the houses have a nice outdoor area that connects them.
Carla lives with her parents and shares a room with Alejandra, her cousin.
While the residence is technically two separate houses, the family passes in
and out of the houses like they are one. Cooking is done in Carlos’ house. TV
is watched in Carmen Luisa’s house. General conversation and dining seems to
happen in the nice outdoor area outside the two houses where the air is a
little fresher. Which reminds me…
Honduras is hot. Now, allow me to admit that I’m a bit of a
baby—but my excuse is that it was winter when we left Peru and we were
acclimated to cold weather. In Honduras it’s about 93 here during the day,
which is about the same temperature as the Midwest, I know, I know; but here’s
the kicker: air conditioning isn’t popular in Honduras. In fact, we generally
only have air condition when we sleep thanks to a handy little unit in our
room; this is truly a gift from God. Any other time of the day and we are slightly
melting. I think I find myself telling Katrina that I’m so sweaty I smell by at
least 11 a.m. every day. Sorry, America—as your ambassador here in Honduras, I’m
currently giving everyone the impression that Americans are sweaty and smelly. You’re
welcome.
Anyway—getting back to business, Saturday night was our
first chance to see the congregation in San Pedro Sula. We attended an annual
event that celebrates the youth in the congregation. About 20 young adults
showed up, dressed to the nines. Carlos gave a brief sermon, but the night was
mainly devoted to enjoying the young adult band that was cranking out praise
music and enjoying eachothers’ company.
Sunday morning was what I shall call “marathon church.” We
attended three back to back services in San Pedro Sula and were in church from
6 a.m. to about 1 p.m. Marathon church. It was interesting to see that each service
had a different vibe, thought I will admit that the 10 a.m. service was my
favorite; there were a few young adults that danced alongside the praise band
and more time for testimonies and dynamics.
The final service ended with an activity where congregation
members could wash each other’s feet in reference to John 3:1-17, where Jesus
washes his disciple’s feet. I will pause here to say that the church in Central
America is a bit more eccentric—and I mean that in the best of ways. There
seems to generally be a lot more crying in church, and the feet washing
definitely brought on a lot of tears. The San Pedro Sula congregation is going
through a bit of a struggle at the moment and the congregation recently lost
about 70% of their membership, along with their pastor. I think this made the
event particularly emotional.
After, church wrapped up, there was a little time for socializing,
and we headed to Pizza Hut with the family to have a celebratory lunch. I am
not ashamed to admit that I drank three full glasses of horchata at lunch,
which is a lot like drinking an entire container of almond-flavored coffee
creamer. After lunch, we took a little time for siesta, in which nearly
everyone slept, but Jordanna, a 15-year-old in the San Pedro congregation, and
I powered through our sleepiness to watch the Costa Rica v. Greece game (yes, I
am still addicted to the World Cup. And yes, everyone here is rooting for Costa
Rica, so it was fantastic.)
Stepping into this week, since Monday, we’ve devoted most of
our time to preparation for the International Youth Forum (IYF). Tuesday we had
the chance to visit the campground, La Buena Fe, where the forum will be held. We
also got to sit in on a meeting where local church leaders bought the church
campgrounds, which was a pretty big moment for Comunidad de Cristo because La
Buena Fe is where the church was born in Central America. After taking inventory of the campgrounds sizing
up a few things, we headed out. La Buena Fe is right off of a large and beautiful
lake and places to eat fried bass and tilapia are abundant, so we stopped for
lunch on the way home. We absolutely demolished some fried bass, and it was certainly
in the top three greatest fish I’ve had during my year with World Service Corps
(which is saying something. Also…for the record, the best fish of the year was
the trout on the island of Tequile in Lake Titicaca. Best fish EVER.)
And that brings us me back to tonight, with my empty coffee
cup and the warm Honduran breeze. We've had a rushed, but wonderful experience with the Mejia family so far, including soccer practice with little David, movie night with Carla and Alejandra, and lessons in tortilla making with Carmen Lusia. The family here is beautiful and truly mean it when they say, "My house is your house."
Our time for last second preparations is quickly running out—the camp director, Steve Hatch, arrives tonight, tomorrow is devoted to some last second prep and Friday we head back to La Buena Fe to get things ready. The IYF starts Saturday and finishes up Thursday morning, then we head back to the United States on Friday—thus our time ever continues to run out.
Our time for last second preparations is quickly running out—the camp director, Steve Hatch, arrives tonight, tomorrow is devoted to some last second prep and Friday we head back to La Buena Fe to get things ready. The IYF starts Saturday and finishes up Thursday morning, then we head back to the United States on Friday—thus our time ever continues to run out.
I won’t have internet at our campgrounds, but I’m hopeful
that I’ll be able to post one more time before we head back to the land where
football is played with a brown, spiral-shaped ball. So—until next time!
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