(no, I'm not pregnant)
We are moving north to San Pedro Sula at the end of this month!
Jose's company has asked us to relocate. And while it's not the move I was hoping for (I was hoping for something a little more north, like the US!) we are still excited about this new adventure!
San Pedro Sula (SPS) is the industrial capital of Honduras, so it is a little more developed and MUCH more organized as a city. It's only a 1-3 hour drive from ALL the good stuff - Copan Ruinas, the north coast, and Tegucigalpa. And it's cheaper to fly in and out of there than it is in Tegus. The part I am dreading is the HEAT. Temps average in the 80's and 90's pretty much all year, but it's the humidity that's the killer. Pretty much round the clock it feels like you could cut the air with a knife. Thank goodness for A/C!
I won't be working (at least initially) so hopefully I'll have more time to get back to writing. AND I'm sure there will be plenty of new adventures to write about - living and starting over again in a new city!!
Stay tuned!
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thank you
If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice. - Meister Eckhart
Yesterday at the supermarket, the woman in line ahead of me had a few meager items in her basket - mostly what you would see in a "canasta básica" - rice, beans, spaghetti, tomato paste, plus a few other "luxuries" like milk, some pastries, and a big bouncy ball for her 3 or 4 year old son that was with her. From her tired eyes and rough hands, I knew she was a hard working woman - probably someone's maid. I watched as she stared at the monitor, blinking and swallowing as each item was scanned and the total at the bottom of the screen increased.
I glanced into my own shopping cart, filled to the brim with supplies for my husband's birthday party, our Christmas dinner and breakfast - thousands of lempiras worth of food.
And I couldn't help tearing up when I heard her say to the cashier, "Please, don't let it go over 400 lempiras ($20) because my gift card is only for L 300 ($15), and I only have L 100 ($5) more to pay."
I watched the monitor as well, silently praying that the total wouldn't go over.
As I crossed my fingers behind my back, tears started streaming down my face. And it wasn't out of pity. It was because it wasn't that long ago that I was in the same exact position as she was now. I was pregnant and unemployed, and we could barely make ends meet with Jose's salary. Only by the grace of God did I get enough invitation jobs to make my car payment each month. Everything that we got for Nicholas was loaned or donated by friends and family - even my maternity clothes were borrowed. And so our grocery budget was laughable - it was easily enough for one person to spend on dinner out at a chain restaurant. I spent hours meticulously planning a menu each week from the sale ads at La Colonia in order to spend only what was necessary. And I remember on many, many occasions, watching that monitor in the check out line just as carefully as she was doing now, crossing my fingers, and blushing as I told the cashier I had decided I "didn't need" the last few things.
With each beep of the scanner the total increased closer to L 400, and finally she selected a few items to leave out. She decided to sacrifice the pastries, the milk, and the tomato paste in order to afford the ball for her son, who was jumping up and down with excitement when she handed it to him.
I wiped my cheeks and told her, "Please, take it all. I'll pay the extra." She looked in my eyes - I think seeing the reason for my tears - took my hand in both of hers, and said "Thank you, young lady, thank you."
Yesterday at the supermarket, the woman in line ahead of me had a few meager items in her basket - mostly what you would see in a "canasta básica" - rice, beans, spaghetti, tomato paste, plus a few other "luxuries" like milk, some pastries, and a big bouncy ball for her 3 or 4 year old son that was with her. From her tired eyes and rough hands, I knew she was a hard working woman - probably someone's maid. I watched as she stared at the monitor, blinking and swallowing as each item was scanned and the total at the bottom of the screen increased.
I glanced into my own shopping cart, filled to the brim with supplies for my husband's birthday party, our Christmas dinner and breakfast - thousands of lempiras worth of food.
And I couldn't help tearing up when I heard her say to the cashier, "Please, don't let it go over 400 lempiras ($20) because my gift card is only for L 300 ($15), and I only have L 100 ($5) more to pay."
I watched the monitor as well, silently praying that the total wouldn't go over.
As I crossed my fingers behind my back, tears started streaming down my face. And it wasn't out of pity. It was because it wasn't that long ago that I was in the same exact position as she was now. I was pregnant and unemployed, and we could barely make ends meet with Jose's salary. Only by the grace of God did I get enough invitation jobs to make my car payment each month. Everything that we got for Nicholas was loaned or donated by friends and family - even my maternity clothes were borrowed. And so our grocery budget was laughable - it was easily enough for one person to spend on dinner out at a chain restaurant. I spent hours meticulously planning a menu each week from the sale ads at La Colonia in order to spend only what was necessary. And I remember on many, many occasions, watching that monitor in the check out line just as carefully as she was doing now, crossing my fingers, and blushing as I told the cashier I had decided I "didn't need" the last few things.
With each beep of the scanner the total increased closer to L 400, and finally she selected a few items to leave out. She decided to sacrifice the pastries, the milk, and the tomato paste in order to afford the ball for her son, who was jumping up and down with excitement when she handed it to him.
I wiped my cheeks and told her, "Please, take it all. I'll pay the extra." She looked in my eyes - I think seeing the reason for my tears - took my hand in both of hers, and said "Thank you, young lady, thank you."
Saturday, April 23, 2011
if you still believe in the easter bunny, you probably shouldn't read this
My older cousin is probably the one that broke the news to me. I probably tried to act cool - like I already knew. I don't really remember the exact details about finding out. And I don't clearly remember telling my mother about my new found knowledge. But I do clearly remember the devastation on her face when I told her I knew that she was the Easter bunny.
Most parents stop playing those parts when their children "grow out" of it. But I have a special kind of mother, the best kind, who up until this year, still labeled gifts from Santa, and still surprised me with treats "that the Easter bunny left at her house." I remember one Easter when I was dating my husband, the Easter bunny even left a basket for him at their house.
This past Christmas, she broke the news to my brother and me... Santa doesn't visit you anymore when you have your own children. My brother (whose wife was expecting) and I understood. But deep down, I think we were both a little sad. "No more Santa? Just because we have babies? No fair!"
Tonight, I prepared Nicholas' first Easter basket. As I contemplated where to leave it (his room? the stairs? the kitchen counter? Where does the Easter bunny leave these things?!), it suddenly dawned on me why Santa doesn't come anymore...it's because I am Santa. Duh...how could I not realize this before? Now, I am the Easter bunny. I'm Santa. I'm the Tooth Fairy.
I don't feel old enough for this. But here I am...wife, mother, Easter bunny.
I hope I can fill her shoes.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
rule #1
The first rule of driving in Honduras...
there are no rules!
Make your own lanes (as seen above), drive on the sidewalks, drive over medians, drive in reverse down ramps, ....I'm telling you people I've seen it all. If you can drive in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, you can drive ANYWHERE!
there are no rules!
Make your own lanes (as seen above), drive on the sidewalks, drive over medians, drive in reverse down ramps, ....I'm telling you people I've seen it all. If you can drive in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, you can drive ANYWHERE!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
dear soptravi,
Since you regraded the road I take to work, I really like you...
Pave it, and we could be talking love...
Pave it, and we could be talking love...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I got pulled over today...
The officer approached my car and said, "Su licencia y revisión, por favor." (License and registration, please.)
I said, "What? Yo no hablo espanol," with the gringo accent turned way up.
"SU LICENCIA! LICENCIA!!!" he said like he was talking to a deaf person.
"Ohhh, my license?!?" I asked in English, playing dumb.
"Yes," he replied in English. For a moment I panicked and thought OMG he speaks English...this isn't going to work!
But then he said, "y la revisión??"
"My what?! I'm sorry, yo no hablo español!" I said, still playing stupid.
"La revisión del vehiculo. DEL VEHICULO!" he said slowly.
"Ohhh...this??" I asked, pulling out my registration.
"Yes," he replied in English.
He walked to the back of the car to consult the other officer. They both laughed. He came back, handed me my license, and sent me off with a smirk and a "que le vaya muy bien."
"Grassy-ass," I answered with a grin, and drove away WITHOUT a ticket or having to pay a bribe.
So for future reference...learn from my past mistakes and current success:
Being mean, being nice, and crying do not get one out of a ticket in Honduras.
Pretending to not speak Spanish...now, that does the trick!
I said, "What? Yo no hablo espanol," with the gringo accent turned way up.
"SU LICENCIA! LICENCIA!!!" he said like he was talking to a deaf person.
"Ohhh, my license?!?" I asked in English, playing dumb.
"Yes," he replied in English. For a moment I panicked and thought OMG he speaks English...this isn't going to work!
But then he said, "y la revisión??"
"My what?! I'm sorry, yo no hablo español!" I said, still playing stupid.
"La revisión del vehiculo. DEL VEHICULO!" he said slowly.
"Ohhh...this??" I asked, pulling out my registration.
"Yes," he replied in English.
He walked to the back of the car to consult the other officer. They both laughed. He came back, handed me my license, and sent me off with a smirk and a "que le vaya muy bien."
"Grassy-ass," I answered with a grin, and drove away WITHOUT a ticket or having to pay a bribe.
So for future reference...learn from my past mistakes and current success:
Being mean, being nice, and crying do not get one out of a ticket in Honduras.
Pretending to not speak Spanish...now, that does the trick!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
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