Update

Well, it's been quite awhile since we've been on here, so I thought I'd throw a little update out into the world. We spent 3 weeks over the holiday season spending time with family and checking out the job situation in New Orleans. As it turns out, there's an awesome job situation. Andrew had some pretty good interviews with a few schools, and I was accepted into teachNOLA, the Teach for America-esque alternative teaching certification program for New Orleans.

So, if all goes as planned, we'll be moving ourselves back to New Orleans in the summer. All of this is very exciting, but being someone who always overanalyzes my life choices, now is the time for me to start freaking out about the little time we have left here. That being said, I'm leaving you all right now in favor of going for a run through the idyllic mountain valley that I can only take advantage of for a few more months.

Happy new year to all of you! This year, do something you're terrified of doing. I bet it'll feel awesome.

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.