Pensamientos-1

The more I get accustomed to life in Honduras, the more things that I see that would be convenient to add into my life when I return to the States. I’ve become very fond of pan con frijoles (toasted bread with refried beans) for breakfast, and am quite sure it’s the missing link in my plan to keep my grocery bill around $2-3 a day (the $2 a day if more a product of my cheapness than a desire to live simply). I’ve also discovered that in order to get legitimately clean in the shower, the water really only needs to be on for about a minute if you turn it off in the middle. I figure this will come in handy when Michigan has to stop acting like fresh water is a limitless resource.

If I slow down enough to think about what I need to take from this semester, it’s obvious that it involves so much more than just my breakfast of choice or hygiene techniques. It would be an utter waste of my semester to come back without having considered the reality in front of me, the things I’m learning, and to recognize how I need to respond, both in thought and actions. Since forming opinions without dialogue is dangerous, I figured I could write some of these thoughts out on my blog.

When I look at Honduras as a country, it is easy to see the unique culture of the country. It is also easy to see striking similarities to the States; pieces of North American culture seem to have been transplanted into Honduran culture. Honduran culture has adjusted to the transplant, but the underlying congruity remains. The interesting thing is that what goes relatively unnoticed in the States is nakedly exposed under the more extreme conditions of Honduras. Given my pride, it’s easy for me to declare, “What a problem for Honduras, they should change the way they do things.” Unfortunately, such a narrow-minded view of things fails to address the reality that a lot of the problems that Honduras is facing come from the exact same practices and policies that exist in the United States. The States doesn’t suffer nearly as much as Honduras, but that doesn’t change the fact that we may have the same condition. HIV can stay latent for years, but the same virus is present in all persons infected. Whether appearing to be healthy or in the late stages of AIDS, all require treatment for the underlying virus.

I think that this analogy applies in a number of sectors of both the States and Honduras. While sometimes not as serious as HIV, there are very similar sicknesses in both systems, and like the treatment of any sickness, the first step is to recognize that something is wrong.

On Thursday, the political group that has been opposing the coup that occurred last summer, La Resistencia (the resistance), gathered for demonstrations and marches starting from the university where we have classes. La Resistencia ended up shutting down the university as part of their demonstrations. Later that night, a lawyer working for one side or the other of this political issue was assassinated in the very same neighborhood that I live in. On my walk home to my house, the police truck going to investigate the murder passed by us, filled with masked policemen holding their guns at ready.

The political situation in Honduras is not nearly as charged as it was 6 months ago, and yet this political schism has not even begun to disappear. Many families are divided on either side of the issue, and some churches are even taking one side or the other of the issue. My host family, all of them good people, will explain to me whether or not a public figure is reputable simply by telling me whether or not a person is a Golpista (those that support the coup).”

As I see the political tension in Honduras, I see that something needs to change. I also see the reality of the same sickness in the States. Politics in the States are becoming so incredibly polarized, with each side resisting every idea from the other side as a personal attack or threat to their livelihood. When a new idea is introduced, politicians (and citizens) are making it a higher priority to completely discredit the idea (and directly attack the introducer) than to actually find a solution to the problems in front of the country.

I am not suggesting that we just need to throw in the towel and abandon all of our beliefs and opinions. I am suggesting that this polarized political situation, the one that exists in both Honduras and the States, will not bring change. It will bring mistrust, it will bring hatred, and it will bring gridlock, but it will not bring change.

If we are going to go about politics as Christians, we cannot pledge allegiance to a political party driven by causing division. There cannot be more attention paid to convention or comfort than to the needs of people. More than anything, we cannot put our hope in a system when the world is in desperate need of a Savior.

So what’s the treatment? The one benefit of having this increased polarization is that when something breaks, it can be fixed more completely than it was before. Honduras gives us a pretty cool example of this in the Transformemos Honduras (Let’s Transform Honduras) movement. Transformemos Honduras is composed of members of the church; Protestants and Catholics, nationalists and liberals (Honduras’s two main political parties), with the purpose of improving 15 sectors of Honduras including education, health, and corruption in government.

The church needs to be political, but not in the vein of conservatives or liberals or populists or libertarians. Shockingly, the Bible doesn’t advocate for any side of the political spectrum, although it’s easy to see that on various issues it condemns all sides. When the church sees the hungry, we need to feed them. When we see injustice, we need to defend the cause of the oppressed. When we see the sick, we need to provide them what they need to be healed. Obviously there is much discussion that needs to go into how to best do this, but better to discuss within the church, for whom the Trinity is petitioning that their be unity as its own.

No more can the church align itself on one side or the other of the widening abyss. Polarization leads to death; both in the figurative sense and, if allowed to become extreme enough, quite literally. It’s time to be something different.

La Pobreza

“Let us not be disheartened, as though human realities made impossible the accomplishment of God’s plans” –Archbishop Oscar Romero

On Tuesday, we started talking about poverty and what it means that 40% of Honduran people live on less than $1 a day, and that 70% of Honduran people live on less than $2 a day. We did an exercise as a class, where we were given a sheet of paper that listed daily expenses for one person in Honduras: food, water, energy, personal effects, transportation, and housing. I was a member of the 40% of Hondurans that live in extreme poverty, and while trying to figure out how to spend my $1 a day, I definitely ran the gauntlet of thoughts and emotions. At first, I figured I could face it like a challenge, and try to see how I could make all the ends meet and go places in the world. It was fun trying to make things work as a group, to see if we would become better off if we went at it together. However, I quickly realized just how unlikely it was for me to actually make it somewhere in the world. All the sudden, by enlisting myself to a life of the most simplistic standards possible, I was able to survive and save 10 cents a day. As I continued to “play” the game, the game began to move into the realm of reality. I realized that the 30 cents a day bus fare listed on the paper wasn’t just a made up number for our little scenario, it was the actual price that I paid just yesterday to ride a bus in Tegucigalpa, and if a Honduran with $1 a day at her disposal needed to ride a bus, there went 30% of her income for the day. And the price of food for each day wasn’t just a made up number, but was really the bare minimum that tortillas and beans could cost in a day-to-day setting (I certainly haven’t found out to eat for 30 cents a day while I’m here). As our group tried to save money by moving all nine of us into a single house, I imagined the houses around Tegucigalpa likely forced into the same situation. I looked at the back side of the paper, and realized that with my 10 cents a day that I was able to save, in 6 or 7 years I would be able to pay for the inevitable doctor bill after getting sick from my malnourished diet. This is a stark reality for 40% of Honduras, and it is no wonder that hopelessness and selfishness sometimes begins to emerge in these situations.

The next day, we visited Nueva Suyapa, visiting the homes of those that fit in these poverty and extreme poverty situations. Those working for justice like to quote the saying that at some point when you help the poor, you need to ask yourself, “why are the poor so poor?”. I’ve always tried to put myself in this group, thinking myself superior for seeking out the root of the problem. But as I looked at these women’s houses, and heard one women explain to us that her husband was the only one working, making four dollars a day digging ditches to support himself, his wife, and 4 children, I realized that there is always the need to help the poor, regardless of whether or not we are seeking out the root of the problem.

Again, I still don’t know completely where to go from here with these thoughts. I think sometimes we just need to open our eyes, though, and actually realize what’s going on right around us and around the world. Unfortunately, reality tends to hurt to look at, making averting our gaze so much more desirable.

Tiempo de hablar, y tiempo de callar

Well, tomorrow will be two weeks of living in Honduras, and 14 weeks until being back in the states. I think it’s an interesting place to be in the sense that for two weeks I have been walking down the path that living in Honduras is, and it’s been long enough and there have been enough turns that thinking about the routine of my life just two weeks ago seems like it was from a different time, a different age. At the same time, I have no problem comprehending that I am still very much at the beginning of this semester, and a whole lot more path remains to be walked.

I chose to stay in Tegus this weekend instead of taking a weekend trip, giving myself ample time to rest, relax, and situate into life as it’s going to be for the next while. We went to the mercado on Saturday, which was thick with Honduran culture and commercialism. (As a side note, apparently a sure way for a guy to get catcalls in a machismo dominated culture is when women are trying to sell him things.) I also am minutes (I just need the internet) from finishing my Biology paper, which will be good to finally put to rest.

On Sunday, I concluded that God was messing with me. I’m not exactly a big fan of television, and that was actually one thing I was looking forward to leaving in the states when I came to Honduras, but it turns out that my family can go full days with the TV on. On top of that, half the time the TV is on, it’s in order to watch Honduran version of the conservative talk radio. And to just add a little more to it, the church my family attends is actually a satellite church founded by some church in Los Angeles, CA, complete with the concert feel by the band and three morning services of about 1000 people each. If you aren’t aware of my opinions on these things, suffice it to say that I don’t normally seek out situations like these.

I was reading today from “Becoming the Answer to Our Own Prayers”, a book written last year by Shane Claiborne and Jonathon Wilson-Hartgrove (a good book, recommend it for sure). In the development of one of the chapters, at one point the booked talked about how a lot of times we (the “we” here being culturally white Christians) have our ideas and theories about what theology and sociology should look like. In our development class, we also talked about how often North Americans come into a setting and automatically think they need to fix everything.

While I’m here in Honduras, and while I watch conservative radio with my family and attend la iglesia cuadragularhn.org, I’m hoping that I can evade both of these things, and for once in my life actually keep my mouth shut and learn from the situation that I’ve been put in. Obviously easier said than done, but it’s early in the semester, and I still have a whole lot of path to walk trying to get it right.

Leer, Escribir, Repetir

If I take a moment to think about it, the amount of time that I’ve spent writing in just the last week is more than I have in most months in the states. Ironically, I also feel as if I’m writing poorly because my mind keeps switching between Spanish and English. Regardless, it’s nice to be in a place where there’s actually time to sit back and reflect on what’s happening for a change, instead of rushing from one obligation or privilege to the next.

That being said, this first week of classes has been quite labor intensive. Starting with class at 8:30, until about 4:00 the last two days I have either been in class or doing homework for my classes, not to mention doing homework at night as well. Thankfully, I sent off the first draft of my internship paper, so I have one thing off of my checklist for a while. I guess that will give me time to worry about the 10 page paper I have to write for my historia de centroamérica class. Never have I felt such empathy for foreign exchange students as I do right now.

Besides working, I have been learning, and classes have been interesting. I won’t regurgitate my last 5 hours of lecture, but the content has been both good and challenging to hear. I’m kinda waiting for a fuller picture before I write on that though.

We went to Nueva Suyapa, to Kurt and Joanne’s house for book study and dinner tonight. I loved how comforting it felt to go there. It was an interesting feeling, because really I’ve only spent a week or two living there in my whole life. There’s just something about their house, about the way they’re choosing to live that resonates with me and makes me feel at ease, at home. The cooking definitely helped with this as well, African ground nut stew isn’t typical dining when traveling.

I was talking with another Calvin student about how we’re looking forward to this weekend because it will give us a chance to take a breath again and stop traveling for a change. I’m also exited to go to church with my familia, hopefully it doesn’t last 4 hours like the last Honduran church service I went to.

Hope all is well for you as well (and you best let me know if not). Actually, you can let me know if it’s going well too, I’m always up for hearing about life.

Que Dios le guarda.

Cambio hacia el dolor

This weekend was retreat weekend. We went to Siguatepeque to have our retreat as a semester abroad group. We were actually at a camp not that much different than what you would find in Michigan. We did the ropes course and various harness inclusive events to teach us all about teamwork and living life. Two things occurred to me during this. First of all, it was a lot of fun, but I did realize that I’ve grown to need more intense things than normal to get a thrill, if that’s what I’m going for. The other thing I realized was that during their application times, I’ve grown past the stage of feeling superior to something because it might seem corny to some and into the stage of feeling superior for not feeling superior, so I guess that’s movement, right?

Speaking of movement, during the retreat we talked about the Myer-Briggs personality tests that we took before we left. Turns out that since last time I took the test I have switched 3 of my traits to the opposites (ENTJ to INFP for those Myers-Briggs enthusiasts out there). I won’t bore with the details, but it’s interesting to me that so much of my personality can change in such a short amount of time, and for the person that I am, it was definitely change for the better.

On Monday we visited a rural area outside of Siguatepeque where an agricultural development group was working. I enjoyed the opportunity of going just to see what is being done in Honduras, and to just show those involved that they are doing great things. Kurt was talking about how so often we tend to go into a situation thinking, “how can I make this better”, but really this attitude is far from necessary, and often quite presumptuous and rude. It was good to let go of that, and to just get to see the work that’s being done, and be happy for the people that have been able to better their own lives and the lives of their community.

When we are right in the middle of a reality, everything changes. I know the idea of poverty, but when an old, wrinkled body holds out a hand to me without even looking me in the face, it becomes a sense; a sight, a sound, even as if it’s a taste in your mouth. While we visited a clinínica, we were shown all the things that were being done for the communities, and how the health of the area was improving. We had the chance to celebrate this with the staff of the clinic. We also had the opportunity to hear of their struggles, of the common diseases in the area, and of the tools they have to treat the diseases. In Honduras, one of the most common cancers is cervical cancer, which is in large part due to infection by HPV, a problem that is exacerbated by the infidelity consistent with a machismo culture. As I learned that there was no vaccine available to the clinics in order to prevent HPV, all I could think about was how hard the young adults I know have resisted getting vaccinated for HPV. I am in no way suggesting that this is a situation where we in the States need to be grateful for what we have. This is just wrong. In the States, there is a huge supply of a vaccine to treat a very small (and often nonexistent) problem, while in Honduras there is no treatment for the problem, despite its enormity, even though the treatment exists. When I think about the cancer that is spreading through Honduras, and the ability of a single vaccination to bring this disease to a halt, to stop the spread of an unwanted intruder, it hurts. Because I realize that it could be better, but it isn’t, and I realize in a present reality the pain that the status quo is causing. Right now I don’t have the nice concluding answer to this situation, all I know is that it hurts, and that it isn’t how it should be. I guess that’s the realization I need if I’m going to be part of any change in the world.

Todo Cheque

Well, I started this blog about a year ago, but of course never got past the first two entries. Apparently all it takes to have time to talk is leaving the country for 3 or 4 months at a time, because here I am sitting in my la sala de mi familia writing the first entry since May.

After 20 hours of planes, layovers, buses, and construction, I made it to Tegucigalpa, Honduras, where I will be living and studying for the next 4 months. My host family has been very gracious to me, and they seem to have a good sense of humor, so I’m very much looking forward to this semester. The bonus of my family is that they are all big eaters, and insist on giving me enough food to kill the roaring tiger in my stomach.

It has only been two days, but I’m already finding myself defaulting to Spanish before English. Given that that’s a part of the goal of this semester, this isn’t bad at all, but might prove a little problematic at times, like when I began to type a full sentence in Spanish for my Biology research paper that I’m finishing up.

I’ll type more thoughts when I experience more things, just tought I would start this thing out and let people know I’m alive and all that. Supposedly another perk of leaving the country is that one or two people actually read your blog, but I'll probably keep it up regardless.

jake