Perplexed.

For as long as I live in Honduras, I will never understand why a stay-at-home mom, whose children are in school during the day, needs to hire a full-time housekeeper, cook, and nanny.

Halloween- The Devil's Holiday

Short but interesting piece of knowledge: Hondurans are not so into Halloween. For most, especially for evangelicals, it's the devil's holiday. However, this idea is not necessarily shared with other Latin American countries. In our neighborhood, on the university campus, there will be organized trick-or-treating tonight. Our university has residents from all over Latin America- almost every family with kids will be participating in the trick-or-treating, except for the families from Honduras. Interesting, eh? I'd be interested to know more about how other Central American citizens view the holiday.

An afterthought.

(Speaking of poverty, if any of you want to help to improve the situations for the families I work with, consider donating to the scholarship program at Andrew's school. I work with a wonderful, inspiring mom right now whose family only needs about $30 more a month in her scholarship fund to ensure that both kids can take advantage of the awesome education that the school provides. Her husband just lost his job, and they have no income, but she still offered to bring lunch for me at our English classes every day. Anyway, if you ever feel inspired, you can always email me about contributing to the scholarship fund.)

La Pobreza

Several people have told Andrew and me that they really enjoy reading our blog posts, that we are hilarious and intriguing and genius (well, maybe nobody has mentioned those exact three words), and that they want more. More posts! More posts!

Now, I don't want to disappoint our giant fan base (i.e. my lovely sister in-law, Karen), but here's the thing: There's one topic that I always want to address, but I don't know how to do it in a way that will be funny and witty. And that's because it's not. 

The topic I'm referring to is poverty. And poverty, well, it pretty much just sucks. 

There are certain things I do to try to fit in here: 

-I try to speak the language.

-I try to respect the fact that no wives/mothers work or do anything at all outside of the home (I get bonus points for this one, because I'm practically one of these wives, without the whole having kids part.)

-I don't punch men in the face when they whistle at me. 

-When the electricity goes out, or the water turns off when I'm all soapy in the shower, or the bus that was supposed to pick me up doesn't come, or there are no beans or veggies or milk at the store, I try not to complain. 

-LASTLY, and most importantly for this blog post, I earn around Honduran minimum wage. Andrew, on the other hand, earns a bit more than that and is generous enough to share it with the ol' ball and chain, but for the purposes of this topic, let's focus on my salary. 

So, reflecting on that last point: I earn a Honduran wage because I choose to. If my goal was to earn money, I could probably find a higher paying job here in Honduras in an area that I'm not passionate about. Even more, I could go back to the US (which I presumably will do at some point) and earn much, much more. And, because of my earning potential, I will never, ever, ever be able to completely identify with my students. 

Oh, I know what you're thinking. "It's an economic crisis!", "There ARE no jobs in the US!", "Things are BAD here!" 

But this is the truth: For as bad a state as the US economy might be in, it's the US. The land of opportunity. While I would argue that it's definitely not the land of equal opportunity, it does have a few perks. If you're hungry, there are food stamps. If you're homeless, there are shelters. If you want your kid to have better opportunities than you did, it's possible to find a public school that can prepare him/her for college. And then, if you don't make a lot of money, your kids can get grants and can take out loans to pay for college. Now, I'm not arguing that being in a situation that requires you to utilize food stamps and homeless shelters is ideal- it's not. I'm not saying that college doesn't lead you to violently weep while looking at your loan payment bills for spending four years earning a degree that sends potential employers running (read- Women's Studies)- it does. And I'm not saying that people aren't suffering in the US. They are. But that's for another post (or rather, millions of books on the subject). 

My point is that, here in Honduras, over half of the population lives below the poverty line and around 40% lives in "extreme poverty" (according to the World Bank). When there's no food in the family, nobody eats. When there's no housing, your house is a ditch on the side of the highway. My students, who are mothers, would never ask me for anything, but they tell me their stories. Stories of living with their 10 family members in one room under a tin roof, of running out of food for themselves by the time they've fed their families, of knowing that they can't support another child even though their husbands control when they have sex and don't want them to use birth control. 

I could go on and on with the heart-wrenching stories I've heard, but I won't. There's probably a 99.9% chance that I'll never live in poverty- real poverty. And that's what separates me from my students. Poverty. 

Bachata, Punta, y Todo Lo Demás

On Saturday morning, we were drinking coffee on our porch and then lounging at the swimming pool. By the time evening rolled around, we decided that we were going to partake in a trip to Peña Blanca, our local discoteca/dance club/bar/whatever-ya-wanna-call-it. I should mention that it's very rare that Andrew or I decide to venture out into the Honduran nightlife, mostly due to the fact that our bedtime is around 10 pm (okay, well, maybe it's more like 8:30 or 9:00) and there is really only one option for "going out" in our rural area. But, we decided to take the plunge.

At Peña Blanca, they have a pool. They have a dance floor. They have a balcony. The party doesn't really get going until around 11 pm. But when it does get going, it's going. The music switches between old pop music from the US and various genres of Latin American tunes, which can lead to some pretty entertaining situations when you have a dance floor filled with Hondurans and six gringos. Example: On Saturday, the song YMCA was played. All the gringos danced, you know, the YMCA. The Hondurans were quite confused by the crazy arm movements, which was a bit embarrassing, but apparently not embarrassing enough to make me stop doing them.

The tricky thing about Peña Blanca is that, if you want to avoid looking ridiculous, you have to know a bunch of different genres of dance, AND you have to know how to identify each genre when you hear it (so you can, in turn, start dancing correctly to the genre). And here, my friends, is my opportunity to educate you on some of the genres of dance that you will need to know when you find yourself in a Honduran dance club.

First off, punta (click to see video example!) is by far the most difficult dance. It's also probably the sexiest, as its name may or may not come from the West African rhythm called "bunda" ("buttocks"). The goal of this dance is to look as sexy as possible. To survive as a dancer during a punta song, I usually run far, far away from the dance floor as soon as I hear it, because there is just no way I'm going to look good doing it.

Bachata, Cumbia, and Salsa (click for more video examples!), on the other hand, are much more feasible for a gringa. They all consist of a simple step in which you put one foot away from your center, bring it back to your center, and then do the same with the opposite foot. I like to think that I have enough rhythm and attitude to pull these off in some way, so I always put in a good effort, using my backside more in these dances than I ever do otherwise.

To set yourself up for success at Peña Blanca, watch this instructional video.

Now remember, ladies- you'll not only have to look good doing these dances, but you'll also have to decide which of the swarming men you're willing to dance with. Once you decide, you can make eye contact with the chosen one, and he will mostly likely approach you. BUT, make sure to avoid eye contact with any men you do not wish to dance with, or you'll spend your evening avoiding men instead of doing what you came to do: dancing your heart out.

Banner Ads

So, in case you're not aware, there is this very old phenomenon on the internet called Banner Ads (note: if you're not aware, you're probably expecting to receive that free iPod in the mail any day now). The people want you to click on the advertisement, so some evil genius along the way realized they could have some kind of fake contest on their banner ad and poor, defenseless people would click on the ad. Here's some examples to remind you:

So why am I talking about this dreadfully boring topic? Glad you asked. Well, upon arriving in Honduras, it was brought to my attention that, depending on where you're using the internet, the banner ads change. So while banner ads in the US seem to have focused on winning free technology with the letter "i" in front of it, or money prizes, or other luxuries, the web ads here in Honduras have been far less diverse, and pretty much only focused on the ultimate luxury: a one-way ticket to live in the USA, where anyone- regardless of race, religion, or creed- can win a free iPod. 

“La Perra Carísima”

In Jicarito, in front of the first pulpería on the left, the multi-colored dog pack barks throughout the night. The mutts don’t have names, although they think that they do.

“Feo”, “Véte” and “Flaco” are their pet names, the words they respond to. They find their breakfasts in garbage piles, their lunches in the ditch next to the road, and their dinners behind Don Dago’s taco comedor. They come in blonde, dusty white, dark brown with black stripes, light brown with black spots, and black with white markings. They’re as massive and vicious as a caged lion; they’re as tiny and timid as a one-winged sparrow. The street is rough and dusty, its gravel crumbling into itself, but they own it. Our aguacatero pack owns this Jicarito calle.

When we took Essa to the dog sitter in Jicarito, she was plump and happy. Since we picked her up at the ESSO gasolinera three months earlier, she had been feasting on deli salami and roasted chicken, chasing guatusas in our lush and green Zamorano neighborhood, and acting like she’d never known the street life. We walked past that pulpería on the left, and she stood extra tall as she sported her spotless red collar. She was a pet dog now.

A leashed dog on a walk with its owners is a sight to be seen. In Jicarito, where you’re lucky to earn enough money to feed your growing hijos, pet dogs are kept tied up outside. They aren’t “part of the family”. They don’t get professional medical attention. They don’t eat deli salami. They don’t wear sweaters.

We were lucky enough to find Carmen, the local veterinarian’s assistant, to watch Essa while we took our fancy tour of Nicaragua and Costa Rica. Carmen assured us that Essa would be in the best care.

“Where does she sleep?” she asked.

“Um… in our room,” we admitted hesitantly, standing in her house made of a dirt floor and tin planks for the walls and roof.

“Then she will sleep in my bed!” It didn’t take her even a second to learn about, process, accept, and embrace our cultural strangeness.

After we’d explained to Carmen all the items in the bag we’d brought- a food bowl, a water bowl, a bag of dog food, flea shampoo, and extra salami slices that we didn’t want to waste- we took off for two weeks.

While we were gone, Essa became somewhat of a legend. The gringa dog with the collar and leash. The perra that gets bathed. The dog that eats from a bowl. The one that sleeps inside.

There were two other dogs in Carmen’s household, both outdoor dwellers, as skinny as can be. As we paid Carmen a previously-agreed-upon fair wage for her dog sitting services, her 8 year-old nephew grabbed Essa’s leash and used it to slap one of the other dogs. Even though Essa lived on the side of a Honduran highway for years, her current status as “gringa” dog had given her superiority.

As we walked away from Carmen down the dusty hill, we passed the pulpería, and a shaggy white dog gave Essa a bark. They could’ve been sisters, Essa and the barking pooch. In fact, they probably are. But Essa didn’t bark back; she didn’t even look up from her incessant ground-sniffing.

Our barking white friend watched closely as Essa led us down the hill, leading the way towards our apartment a mile away. “Véte!” yelled a middle-aged woman, as she smiled at us and used her broom to shoo away Essa’s sister. The rest of the canine pack was just about to head on down to Don Dago’s for some taco leftovers, and our yapping shaggy friend joined them. The adept pack paced up and down the gritty road, picking up a few precious meat scraps. As the sun went down over the tin roofs, they began their howling routine, asserting their territory and keeping the town safe. Those dogs, they own this Jicarito street.

Tummy Wummy Achey

I've been awoken from my slumber with what appears to be a fire-breathing dragon in my stomach.. To figure out the cause, and because I can't sleep, I made a chart:

Well, now that that's settled, I think I'll go back to bed. Good night.

A Trip to the Vet.

Today, we went to the veterinarian to ask him if he knows anyone who can take care of Essa while we travel for two weeks. We took a moto-taxi there.

Cast of Characters:

-Moto Driver
-Woman riding in the moto with us
-Nigel [white guy who we met at the supermarket last week]
-Veterinarian [old man with a lisp]
-Andrew
-Me

Scene 1: The One In Which Nigel Nearly Crashes Into The Moto
[Moto drives into the veterinarian "parking lot". Giant white van starts backing up, about to crash into the moto. Moto driver honks repeatedly. Giant white van stops. Giant white van starts to back up again, still about to run into the moto. Moto honks repeatedly.]

Nigel: "What are you doing, you asshole?"
Woman riding in the moto with us [chuckling]: "What did he just say?"
Me [smiling]: "Bad words."
Moto driver: "It's his fault."

[Andrew and I exit the moto.]

Nigel [He recognizes Andrew from the supermarket]: "HEY!"
[Nigel talks to Andrew about how you can't get cement anywhere in Honduras. Apparently he's doing a construction project. He also invites Andrew to come over to his house. I go inside to talk to the vet.]


Scene 2: The One In Which The Veterinarian Isn't Offended

[After talking to the vet about our dog-sitting needs, he starts talking about Nigel.]

Veterinarian: "He came in here looking for some cement. Apparently he can't find any."
Me: "Oh, really? He seemed angry."
Veterinarian: "He was rude. He said that Hondurans aren't civilized, and that's why he can't find any cement."
[Pause]
Veterinarian: "But I'm not offended, because I'm Peruvian, not Honduran."

What We Do.

I've had a few requests for "More blog posts! More blog posts!". There's a reason why we haven't written, and this is it...

Every day, when we're not teaching stuff, we do this:



And this:
And this:

And sometimes this:




Okay, well, maybe we do other things, too. Like this:


And occasionally, we watch this:


And finally, we eat this:


Of course, we do other things, too. But I'm saving those for the next blog post.

The Time Difference

If there’s one cultural lesson I’ve learned so far in Honduras, it is this:

“Be there at 9:00 AM”

REALLY means

“Definitely don’t get there BEFORE 9:00 AM. Feel free to show up anytime after 9:00, really. You could even show up at 10:00 AM, and if you do, definitely don’t mention anything about being an hour late- pretend as if the moment you show up is the exact moment you were expected to arrive. In addition, if you choose not to show up at all, don’t feel the need to call beforehand. If anything, you can call at 9:30 or 9:45, just to verify that you won’t, in fact, be showing up at 10:00 or later.”

Although, in theory, I knew about this cultural norm regarding time before we moved here, I still had a bit of difficulty adjusting. The first time I waited for someone for more than a half hour, I figured there must have been some kind of emergency. Ten minutes later, when the student walked into the room as if nothing had happened, I knew I had had my first “time difference” experience. Little did I know, this would be the first of many.

Now, from what I have witnessed, it is still remotely unacceptable to be late for an official job. For example, Andrew would not be able to keep his teaching job if he showed up an hour late every day. (My observations may be skewed here, because he works for a bilingual school with many US staff). In addition, the folks I have met who work for the university are always standing in the coffee shop line at the very punctual time of 7:40 AM (work begins at 8:00 AM). So, from what I’ve gathered, this “time difference” occurs only for events that don’t involve getting paid. Strangely, the “time difference” phenomenon DOES occur with events for which the late person is paying. For example, students who pay me for English classes often show up about 30 minutes late, even though they are paying for two full hours. (On the flip side, the students who receive free English class through a grant definitely show up late more often than those who pay.)

At first, I took offense to the fact that even the paying students were showing up late to my classes. Am I a TERRIBLE teacher? Are they SCARED of me? Am I incredibly BORING? But through all the kind words, homemade baked goods, greeting cards, and fast English language skill development, I’ve come to realize that it really ISN’T me- it’s just how things work.

Although I am still learning the exact cultural rules for this “time difference” (note to self: remember not to arrive on time for a conversation exchange), I have made some changes in my daily habits that allow me to fully take advantage of this phenomenon. I never arrive to teach a class or meet someone without a good hour’s worth of entertainment- papers to correct, books to read, novels to write, etc. In this way, I have actually learned to enjoy this special time given to me by the cultural “time difference”. For the sake of me ever returning to the US, let’s just hope that I don’t take it too far and start arriving an hour late. Or for that matter, not at all.

On Living a Slow Life

Pros and Cons of Living in Rural Honduras

Pros:

1. There's really no way to convince yourself NOT to be active. If you have free time, which you do when you live in rural Honduras, there are generally 6 activities that are available.

a. Running/walking around (by yourself or with your new street dog)

b. Playing tennis

c. Looking at the internet (although in "real" rural Honduras you wouldn't be able to do this)

d. Reading

e. Drinking (possibly at the nearby restaurant, Chicken Drive)

f. Playing the guitar

Now, looking at the odds, there's a 33% chance that, at any given moment in your free time, you will either be running/walking or playing tennis. And that is why Andrew and I are becoming such beautiful specimens (see reason #1 in CONS list for why this may or may not be true).

2. Things are pur-ty. See photo.

3. There's lots of time to think. You can think about anything, really:

-what's happening in the news

-what's happening on American Idol

-who's going to win American Idol, and whether or not you're going to win the bet you made with your hubby

-how your dog might be a genius for learning how to sit

-whether or not you should let your dog come on the bed

-what's your favorite number out of 18 or 81

-what's your favorite color combination

-why we call football "football" instead of calling soccer "football"

-how it is so great that you have time to think

-which kind of cheese you will get the next time you go to the supermarket

Which leads me to.......

CONS

1. When you live on the campus of an agriculture university, you can be sure that you won't be missing dairy products. Our current favorite is Queso Crema with jalapenos. The yogurt and ice cream is delicious. And the chocolate milk isn't bad either. Although #1 could easily find its way into the "Pros" list, it's down here with the "Cons" because, despite all these scrumptious dairy products, we both may have some sort of slight intolerance for dairy.

2. There's lots of time to think. You can think about anything, like:

-how you will ever get rid or your dog's bugs

-all the bad things happening in the news

-poverty

-war

-death

-starvation

-greedy rich people

-evil giant fleas taking over the world

-evil dictators

-how to determine which people around you are communists

Okay, well, maybe I don't really think about that last one.

I'd write more, but I have to scurry back to my hurried rural Honduran life.

Commitments

As if getting married wasn't enough, Andrew and I have decided to make some other pretty big commitments in our lives.

1. We have committed to staying here in Zamorano, Honduras, for the next two years. During these two years, we are going to participate in an international Masters in Education program through the University of Alabama. The program is outrageously cheap (apparently the University of Alabama is taking on the social mission of furthering the education of teachers teaching abroad in bilingual schools), and we'll both go back to the States after two years with a Masters degree and no loans. Sounds pretty good, right? Well, yes it does, but there is a downside. The program won't get me a teaching license, which becomes problematic in terms of getting an actual teaching job if we move back to Minnesota. Apparently the people in Minnesota actually want their kids' teachers to have a teaching license. BUT, if we went back to New Orleans, I'd have more success with the job search (of course, we all know that the people in New Orleans don't really care who teaches their kids, as long as they learn how to play jazz trumpet and can design the best Mardi Gras costumes...). On the flip side, Andrew will have his Masters along with the teaching license he already has, so he will be well on his way to becoming the Secretary of Education.

(Okay, my secret's out- I'm terrible with photo editing...)

2. We are getting a dog. Yes, we've decided to take the plunge. We always said we'd have a dog before we ever made the crazy decision to actually raise kids one day, so here goes. We've already chosen our pup- she's a medium-sized stray with an absolutely lovable and calm personality. Right now she "lives" somewhere around the gasolinera and the nearby chicken restaurant (also known as "Chicken Drive"), where we see her every week scrounging for food and affection. This weekend we went to the gas station to investigate- I asked some folks if they thought anyone would be sad if we took the dog as our own. The response was quite entertaining- both women we asked started laughing hysterically when we mentioned that we wanted to have the dog as our pet. My summary of the responses would be: "Of COURSE nobody will care if you take that dog off the street, but we thing you're CRAZY for wanting it".

This weekend Andrew went into Tegucigalpa to get some dog supplies while I was teaching a Saturday computer class, so we're all set up with food, bowls, leashes, collars, and plenty of flea treatment. The plan is to bring the dog home from Chicken Drive this Friday, so we'll have the whole weekend to get it settled in (including house training- don't worry, we have plenty of cleaning solution...). We also have a local vet where we can get our new little lady checked out. For your entertainment, here she is:

Now, all we need is a name. We want the name to have a least a little bit of a Spanish twist- when we are out of town we will be leaving her with Spanish speakers, so we'll be training her in Spanish. Any ideas?! Please post them!

And that, my friends, pretty much covers our two biggest commitments. At this rate, we'll probably have a house in the suburbs with a picket fence and 2.5 kids before the year is over.

The Bottom Ten Of 2010

Well, Laura has inspired/challenged me to come up with a list for myself. Since my Top 10 Moments would probably be super similar to hers, I'm going to attempt to take a look at the least memorable moments (or, more accurately, things I wish I could forget) of The Year That Was.


It should be noted that my memory is the pits, so I probably already forgot 90% of the things I wish I could forget. My apologies.




#10: Being Stuck In El Estor, Guatemala: 
Last November, with vacation time preciously ticking away, Laura and I spent four days wandering around this sleepy, tiny town, hoping and praying that we would at least finish our double scoop cones by the time we circled back to the ice cream shop for another round. (In retrospect, this was actually awesome.)

#9: Cold, Cold, Cold: 
In December, we went to Wisconsin and Minnesota. These two states are really cold- I'm not sure anybody told you. At least our families and friends are awesome, because if they ever aren't, I'm staying the heck away.


#8: Lost In Translation: 
In July, I was stuck in a teensy-weensy Japanese restaurant (either that, or a Murakami Haruki novel) with little Japanese language, lots of eager onlookers, and a plateload of some kind of raw fish. Needless to say, I think I set U.S.-Japan relations back about 50 years.


#7: Insides on the Outside: 
Upon first arriving in Guatemala in September, Laura and I were quite overcome with the sights of magnificent Lake Atitlan, the beautiful streets and farms, and everyone's lovely traditional dress. However, we mostly just got to look at the interior of our bathroom about every 20 minutes.

#6: Our Complete Loss of Freedom, Liberty, God, and All That Is Good: 
Of course, I'm talking about how just any old urchin can go to the doctor now. 


#5: That One Time When We Were Totally Supposed To Play Settlers Of Catan But Didn't: 
Yeah, that was a total bummer, man.


#4: The Oil Spill: 
Yeah, this one made it, and I'm not even a shrimper. Being relatively close to the spill (we had been re-planting wetlands down to the Gulf the week prior to the spill...Whoops!) it was amazing and super sad to see just how much it affected a state that has its share of bad luck. (ATTENTION: It should be noted that this tragic event ironically led to my #1 Best Moment of the 21st Century: Being In Spike Lee's 2nd New Orleans Documentary If God Is Willing And Da Creek Don't Rise Starring Andrew Witkins as "Sign Holder #8")

#3: It's Gross, It's Everywhere, It's Nescafe™: 
The biggest injustice I can think of in life is a bunch of Guatemalans, living amongst delicious, fresh coffee plants, who still somehow manage to drink (nay, prefer) freeze-dried brown instant coffee crystals. Yes, I know it is cheaper and easier, but I would quickly sell a horse or two if it meant I could drink the real stuff.


#2: Taunting Fate:
 Laura and I both realize that nothing bad really happens to us (this list is proof), which undoubtedly means that we are both due for a tragedy. Probably a really bloody one.

#1: Knowing What It Means To Miss New Orleans: 
Yeah, this one still stings. We have some fantastic friends, co-workers, students, trivia teams, frisbee teams, and neighborhood bars taunting us from NOLA, and every day we wonder if we were crazy to leave. Such is life, I suppose. 


Well folks, it was quite a year, eh? I've already got some promising events for next year's list. See you then!

Top Ten of 2010

In my spare time, I've decided to come up with a list of the top ten events of 2010 (thanks for the inspiration, Kevin!). By "Top Ten", I mean the most memorable, not necessarily just the most enjoyable. These may or may not be some of Andrew's top events of the year.

10. Tie between:

a) Surprise Birthday Party at Juan's Flying Burrito: Andrew tells me he made reservations for my birthday, so he takes me by the hand and leads me across the street to Juan's. "Juan's? You made reservations at Juan's? Do they even take reservations?" I was perplexed until we got to the back patio where lots of lovely friends were waiting to eat delicious burritos and scrumptious homemade cake, followed by shenanigans at the Half Moon Bar.

b) Designing an Mouse-Friendly Mouse Trap: When I first saw the mouse out of the corner of my eye, I thought it was a cockroach. A day later, I walked in on the mouse sitting on the stove, eating crumbs off of a pan that I had just baked cookies on. Ew! Being that Andrew is much more kind to his fellow living creatures than I can sometimes be, he convinced me that we could catch the mouse somehow (without a mouse trap), and set it free. So we made a trap that consisted of rigging up a "cereal box ramp" on the stove that would go tumbling into the garbage can below if triggered by the little creature crawling on top of it. We got all three mice this way- one of them we caught in the presence of friends and made a group adventure of setting it free.

9. The "Christmas Surprise". It was incredibly fun and entertaining to see the look on our family members' faces when we showed up in Wisconsin and Minnesota for the holidays, unannounced. We spent three weeks hanging with family, giving big hugs and kisses to nieces and nephews, and basically soaking up all the love we could before moving to Honduras for who knows how long.

8. Moving away from New Orleans. Number 8 definitely falls under the category of "Events that affected us a lot, and not necessarily for the better". We miss New Orleans- our friends, the music, the vibe, our neighborhood. I cried when we locked our apartment door behind us. I teared up as we drove away. But we're young, and we wanted to learn a bit of another language and see the world. We can always move back, right?

7. Pub Quiz. For the first half of 2010, we had the lovely opportunity of spending every Monday night in New Orleans drinking beers with our witty and intelligent friends while trying to prove how smart we are (miss you guys so much!). When we left NOLA, there was a gaping hole in our hearts. Luckily, we found a "gringo" pub quiz night in San Pedro, Guatemala, where we kicked some pub quiz butt (although we never claimed first place). And all of that happened before we became champions at the Thursday night pub quiz in Beloit, Wisconsin, due to Andrew's crazy quick math skills.

6. Traveling around Guatemala and Belize with K-Dogg. After being in Guatemala for a couple of months without seeing any familiar faces (except the ones we made familiar while we were there- that's you, Jason!), it was incredibly thrilling to see a confused looking K-Dogg wandering down the street in Rio Dulce, Guatemala. We spent the week snorkeling and gazing into turquoise Caribbean waters, canoeing and hiking through the jungle and Mayan ruins, playing drums with some Garifuna folk, and taking in a lot of pina coladas.

5. Saints' Superbowl win. After we convinced Deb and Colin that it would, indeed, be fun to actually go to a bar and watch the game, it turned out to be even more fun than we had expected. After the Saints won, we secondlined (is that a verb?) through the city, and the energy was outrageous. I'm sure it was unlike anything I'll experience again.

4. Spending a week in Japan with the Witkins family for Nate and Mitsuyo's wedding. Not only was it our honeymoon, but we got to share one hostel room between the five of us for the majority of the trip! (Love you, Witkins family!). Seriously, though, Japan was incredible, especially the part where we watched the sun rise over the clouds from the top of Mt. Fuji. The family karaoke night wasn't bad either.

3. Canoeing the Boundary Waters. After a long, emotional move away from New Orleans, this was the perfect way to relax and feel like I'm getting totally ripped at the same time. Not to mention we got to make jokes with some of our very favorite people for a week, drink beer out of cans, and make hot drinks under a tarp in a hail storm. I vote for this one to be a yearly tradition.

2. Spending a month in the most beautiful spot in the world, Lake Atitlan. With the traditional Mayan dress, the comfort in knowing that toads will never become extinct, $1 cuba libres, and having two awesome local Spanish teachers to interact with all day, this was a perfect way to start off our time abroad.

1. Getting married. Hey, I know it's the obvious one, but come on, it was a freakin' good party. The old dancing with the young. Delicious grub, frisbee playing, kid throwing, gun shooting, African dancing, music making, watching little nieces and nephews reach up to put their cup on top of the bar for more sprite. Also, it lasted for like 4 days. Not to mention that it's a pretty good feeling when most of the people you love are in one room.

Real Life

Now that Andrew and I are getting settled into our new home, you'll be hearing a lot more from me, because Andrew is heading full force into his job, and I'm just starting to put together my schedule of "useful things to do with myself". And, to be honest, the blog might not be that exciting anymore. After months of gallivanting around Guatemala, Belize, and Mexico, paying little attention to where our money was going and doing every interesting cultural and adventurous activity that came our way, we are now going to have "real lives" again. By "real lives" I mean:

1. We get to/have to go to work.

2. We get to/have to stay in one place and make a community here.

3. We get to/have to go grocery shopping and cook delicious meals on our very own stove!

4. We get to/have to use an alarm clock to wake ourselves up.

5. We get to/have to clean our apartment.

6. We get to/have to save money for things like: paying off our loans, buying a plane ticket to the US or Africa, maybe going to grad school (either here or in the US), and someday building a submarine to return to the Gulf of Mexico and find the "shark" that scared the beegeebies out of Andrew last year.

As we have been moving into our new "real lives", I've begun to realize how cleansed I feel to be in a new space with minimal "stuff". Our apartment came furnished with a bed, a dresser, a kitchen table with chairs, a couch, a fridge, and a stove (along with a pot, a pan, and dishes). Andrew and I both have about 7 shirts, 3 pairs of pants, and 3 pairs of shoes (sandals, dress shoes, and tennis shoes). I've always known that I generally just feel more relaxed when I have less clutter, but being forced to fit everything I want for the next six months to two years in one backpack has been a great reminder of that fact. Now I just need to figure out what to do with all of my relaxed but excited energy...

This afternoon I sent out a notice to the university staff and students, saying that I am interested in doing a Spanish-English conversation exchange. I got about 9 eager responses within 30 minutes. Any suggestions on how to pick out the BEST of them?

And, last of all in this scattered post, I've really been missing witty people. So, for all you witty (or semi-witty) people out there, please feel free to email/comment something witty that your witty self comes up with.

(It turns out that "witty" sounds totally weird when you say it more than about five times in a row. Try it.)

Where are we?

If any of you out there are wondering where Andrew and I are, it is important for you to know that we are wondering the same thing.

We arrived at Zamorano last night at around 9 PM, and Andrew's principal showed us to our new apartment, which includes a furnished bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom with a hot shower. When we woke up this morning, we had a chance to get our bearings. We looked out of our front door and saw this:

(Well, we didn't see EXACTLY this, because I took this picture off of the internet after we realized that we had lost our camera cord, but it's pretty much what we saw.)

We are about 35 kilometers outside of Tegucigalpa, and it does not feel like I had imagined it would. Instead, it feels like... a really nice college campus that just happens to be in Honduras and has less drunk, puking freshmen (due to the excessively strict rules for the students, such as the ONE hour of free time allowed each day from 8-9 PM). The campus is beautiful- all the buildings are made of white stone- and the area is totally safe to wander around in thanks to the awesome campus security. Andrew's school is quaint and perfect, with a staff that seems incredible so far, and I might even have some great opportunities to teach ESL to the parents, teach a class to the students' mothers on nutrition or computer skills (in Spanish!), volunteer playing with kids at a local orphanage, and sub every once in awhile when a teacher can't teach a class.

I know it sounds pretty terrible to be where we are. To top it off, we have to look at these hideous fields and mountains every time we want to go for a walk:

And, finally, the clincher: if we get too hot in this wretched climate with a yearly average of 70 degrees, we are forced to go swimming here to cool down:

So this is where we are, if you can believe it. Where are all of you? Send us emails and Skype us, because we miss you.