SUNDAY ARRIVAL
we arrived in el pital in the late afternoon, just as the sun was setting on large white rocks in a rushing river flowing between luscious mountains of green on either side. on the way a little girl sang a song about elephants. we rode on an old school bus, winding the curvacious roads, and hopped off at the home of lola, santos, and their two children, alba and minor. they would become our new best friends for the rest of our time her. rachel has known this beautiful family for six years. they are campesinos who live in el pital and who work off the land, growing beans. alba loves photography and writing books. minor, who has cerebral palsy, smiles these gorgeous smiles with sparkling brown eyes. he is obsessed with the orange cat, paco. lola and santos are in their 30`s. lola teaches me her top 30 spanish words that i must learn, they are all words related to homesteading and womanhood '' how do you say ring, how do you say pan, how do you say necklace, how do you say chili jar. baby chickens hop around our tired feet. we sat and sipped hot, dark coffee with lola and santos. alba played with the cat, paco. a huge storm brought pounding rain and we sat in their home, rain slamming against the tin roof.
when the rain stopped, we walked down a very steep and rocky path to the home where we would stay for the week. it´s on a cliff overlooking the white rocks of the congrejal river below. our doorway frames thick and luscious layers of green plants and trees. that first night, rae and i made all sorts of teaching plans as we settled into the un mundo house. santos and lola came with the children for dinner and we danced, played exquisite corpse, and colored together. we fell asleep to a rushing river down below, bright fireflies, and a huge net of stars above.
MONDAY, MEETING THE PRINCIPAL
on monday, we met with oscar, the school director, and other teachers at the school, and decided to work with older students since the elementary school has been on strike for 2 weeks. after meeting with all the school personnel, and watching the development of the school being built, we sipped pepsi´s and tried to make a plan that would work for a four day workshop. we planned on a red bench situated under a tin roof of a small pulpuseria, the only shade to be found for miles. the sun was like an oven. once we made our plan, monday was all about going back to la ceiba to get supplies. we would work with 2 groups of high school students, mostly girls in a home/ec class. we returned to la ceiba and walked the sweltering, tropical streets, skipping over holes in the sidewalk, and soaking in the scene. we returned with armfuls of supplies, only after realizing that we had missed the last bus back to el pital.
HITCHHIKING -- MOURNING & MADNESS
MONDAY, MEETING THE PRINCIPAL
on monday, we met with oscar, the school director, and other teachers at the school, and decided to work with older students since the elementary school has been on strike for 2 weeks. after meeting with all the school personnel, and watching the development of the school being built, we sipped pepsi´s and tried to make a plan that would work for a four day workshop. we planned on a red bench situated under a tin roof of a small pulpuseria, the only shade to be found for miles. the sun was like an oven. once we made our plan, monday was all about going back to la ceiba to get supplies. we would work with 2 groups of high school students, mostly girls in a home/ec class. we returned to la ceiba and walked the sweltering, tropical streets, skipping over holes in the sidewalk, and soaking in the scene. we returned with armfuls of supplies, only after realizing that we had missed the last bus back to el pital.
HITCHHIKING -- MOURNING & MADNESS
we stood by a corner and waited to hitchhike back up the mountain. a red pick up truck accepted us, along with three other passengers. as the truck peeled out, racing at top speeds on the curving roads, i thought i was going to die. i sat on the edge of the truck and held on for dear life. within minutes we learned that the woman riding with us in the back had just found out that her mother had died and couldn´t stop crying. manuel, one guy, kept asking me if i was single. and the other man was high, carrying a machete, wearing a ¨springfield dance¨ t shirt, and a yellow cap, mumbling and smiling to himself. rae and i looked at each other and our jaw dropped as rain started pounding down on all 5 of us. the driver got of the car, gave us plastic covering, and the five of us all huddled under it as the driver drove at top speeds. i didn´t know to laugh or cry. this was life and we were living it. we had to throw our hands up. i was relieved to arrive soaked and alive.
TUESDAY -- HONDURAN TEACHERS ON STRIKE
we woke with good plans. we found out that the entire school system was on strike, though. no high school classes either. all the teachers had not been paid in 6 months and there was growing resentment. after visiting the lcoal women´s sewing coop on the other side of the river, where rachel loves and knows the director, rosario, we headed back over the river on the canasta (a basket on wire cable suspended over the river). again, i didn´t look down, the way that yesterday, i couldn´t look back!
BOOK MAKING ON THE STREET
we decided to conduct an informal class of bookmaking with local children, some who don't know how to read write and they don't go to school, and others who are out of school b-c of the strike. our students were 13 years or under, our youngest being javier, who doesn´t talk and is about 5. we met at the same spot where we planned the day before because this is the only store on the main road, the only two benches to sit. and the kids just naturally gather here. we demonstrated book making folds, and then coached everyone to write a story, letter, or poem inside. i have never seen kids work so hard at writing. rachel was a brilliant and magnificent translator the whole time.
melbi and elbin, twins, wrote picture books. another boy wrote a book about teaching his friend to read and write. two girls wrote letters to their best friends and baby brothers-sisters. one girl was writing to her unborn baby sister or brother, saying that she really hoped for a sister b-c she didn´t like boys! but she´d love them just the same...after making and writing our books, we marched and paraded, singing a song about books, and we gathered in a little spot to read and share. among the random horse, cow, chickens, and pigs, the children read their stories and explained their pictures. they were captivated by each others´stories but eventually the sun seduced us to the river, and we jumped in, after hiking down a steep path to river´s edge. the sun beat down on us and we played, relaxed. it was such a beautiful day.
we decided to conduct an informal class of bookmaking with local children, some who don't know how to read write and they don't go to school, and others who are out of school b-c of the strike. our students were 13 years or under, our youngest being javier, who doesn´t talk and is about 5. we met at the same spot where we planned the day before because this is the only store on the main road, the only two benches to sit. and the kids just naturally gather here. we demonstrated book making folds, and then coached everyone to write a story, letter, or poem inside. i have never seen kids work so hard at writing. rachel was a brilliant and magnificent translator the whole time.
melbi and elbin, twins, wrote picture books. another boy wrote a book about teaching his friend to read and write. two girls wrote letters to their best friends and baby brothers-sisters. one girl was writing to her unborn baby sister or brother, saying that she really hoped for a sister b-c she didn´t like boys! but she´d love them just the same...after making and writing our books, we marched and paraded, singing a song about books, and we gathered in a little spot to read and share. among the random horse, cow, chickens, and pigs, the children read their stories and explained their pictures. they were captivated by each others´stories but eventually the sun seduced us to the river, and we jumped in, after hiking down a steep path to river´s edge. the sun beat down on us and we played, relaxed. it was such a beautiful day.
WEDNESDAY -- INITIAL CENSUS QUESTION GATHERING
we crossed our fingers for the school to open again because we really wanted to teach our workshop! and then this morning we heard the 7 am bus roar down the main road. even though the rest of the country´s schools were closed, oscar, the director, decided to keep it open. we worked with 6 students today, all freshman, and wrote poems related to the unaccountable census (in response to a current census happening in el pital). we asked: what are the unaccounted for questions in a census¿ what questions never get asked? what do we want to know that can´t be measured by numbers¿ we talked about ghosts, snakes, forgotten histories, beautiful possessions, first memories, dreams, and secrets. they each chose a word and created a stencil to match the word or somehow express it. the students were like anywhere, somewhat shy, giggly, awkward, and wonderful.
THE HUNGER TO WRITE, TO SPEAK
still, there were many distractions -- thin walls made it hard to hear when the other classes were loud in the other rooms. taechers kept stopping in to see what we were doing and talking to each other. little children from the store acorss the street wandered into the classroom to see if they could help, draw, and take photos. what i am moved by is the desire anywhere to write, to participate, to learn, and then once those conditions are set up, to question, respond, wonder, and locate oneself in the bigger picture, in this newfound dynamic between teachers and students. and then there is language -- the need for me to know spanish to truly read and understand the relationship. i am becoming more and more aware of how all of us are bound up in the languages we speak, and how it´s difficult to separate self from language, language from culture, culture from self.
still, there were many distractions -- thin walls made it hard to hear when the other classes were loud in the other rooms. taechers kept stopping in to see what we were doing and talking to each other. little children from the store acorss the street wandered into the classroom to see if they could help, draw, and take photos. what i am moved by is the desire anywhere to write, to participate, to learn, and then once those conditions are set up, to question, respond, wonder, and locate oneself in the bigger picture, in this newfound dynamic between teachers and students. and then there is language -- the need for me to know spanish to truly read and understand the relationship. i am becoming more and more aware of how all of us are bound up in the languages we speak, and how it´s difficult to separate self from language, language from culture, culture from self.
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