On February 24th, 53 gringos arrived in Tegucigalpa, very unsure of what lay ahead of them. We'd just survived a horrific landing, which apparently is the norm at Toncontin International Airport. For those like me who didn't know, commercial pilots around the world rate the landing in Tegucigalpa as their second least favorite and second most dangerous. The runway is short and narrow and the airport lies in a valley that is generally shrouded with smog and smoke, and very frequently closed because of this. The pilot needs to make an intense left bank, dropping his wing what felt like 75 degrees for a good 30 seconds right before he drops the plane on the tarmac and throws the reverse thrust into full effect. Well, apparently it wasn't quite smoky enough for them to shut the airport down for our arrival but it was smoky enough to force our pilot to circle three times before deciding it was good to go. We had to have been on the ground no longer than 15 seconds after we emerged from the clouds and smog. Unbelievable. Standing ovation for that guy.
We were greeted at baggage claim by the country director and a lot of the staff, which was quite reassuring. After tracking down the last of our bags (53 people with anywhere from 50-80+ lbs of bags is a lot of stuff...), we were escorted to our buses and our first meal in-country: Dominos pizza. Then we were shuttled off to the training headquarters outside of Tegucigalpa for a quick brief before meeting members of our host families. My two biggest worries coming into this whole thing had to do with people more than anything else: how would the other volunteers be and how would the new 'families' be who would be taking me under their wing for weeks on end. Both turned out to be just fine.
Marcela Munoz, my new host 'Mom', was there to greet me. Seemed nice enough but man if that wasn't the longest 20 minute bus ride back to my new house... I don't know if it was actually hot that day or if I was just that uncomfortable, but I was sure sweating enough for both. I hadn't taken a Spanish class in 11 years and it was certainly time for survival Spanish to kick in, big time! We made our way to Las Canadas, my new neighborhood, and the two of us walked up to the house on the hill. As you can see by the photos below, I lucked out big time. The house was set back off the main road on a big property with upwards of 10 different types of fruit trees and vegetable plants all over. My room was in the basement, cut off from the rest of the house with separate access and my own bathroom!
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| Home sweet home! |
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| Beautiful house with an even more beautiful garden encompassing it |
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| My bedroom: mosquito net flowing over the bed, closet in the middle of the pic, and the bathroom behind the door with my towel on it. |
Once I got settled in to my new digs and it was time for dinner, I popped upstairs to find the rest of the family had just gotten back from work and school. Jose Luis ('Dad'), the aforementioned Marcela ('Mom'), Nahaman, Danny, and Marcela ('Brothers' and 'Sister'), Tia Maria, two dogs, a cat, and a parrot welcomed me with open arms. I was the 6th PC trainee they'd hosted, so they were somewhat used to the quirky ways of the gringo, which helped settle my nerves a bit.
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| My first set of Honduran parents! |
Jose Luis and Marcela are both wonderfully hospitable people. It was clear from the start that my comfort was of their utmost concern. Jose Luis has worked as a mechanic at the US Embassy for over 25 years. He's a very creative, outside-the-box type guy who has a refreshingly inquisitive outlook on life, and was very helpful in catching me up to speed on present-day Honduras. Marcela works as a grade-school teacher. She couldn't have been nicer, always attending to my every need, particularly on the food side of things. Both were incredibly patient and helpful with my Spanish and, because of that, we were able to have fairly deep and meaningful conversations about a number of topics, ranging from politics to religion to business to life in the US vs Honduras.
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| Brett, Marcela, and Danny |
Nahaman (no pictures...), the oldest son at 23, is currently in university in Costa Rica. He was at home for my first week and, being the oldest of the kids, made it a point to help me open up a bit through conversation. He is an accomplished violist, having received a full ride to attend a month-long camp at Sewanee in Nashville, and is looking to head to Spain after school to continue playing. He played a bit for me one evening and I was blown away by his talent. He is clearly passionate about it and I am eager to follow his success.
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| Danny doing his best Alex Campos impersonation |
Danny, 19, is studying Graphic Design and Computer Science in Tegucigalpa. He couldn't have been nicer, always trying to keep conversation going and including me in anything he did. Like his brother, he is musically inclined and plays both guitar and drums during Sunday church services. When he explained how he'd gotten into music, he inspired me to do away with my usual lame excuse of 'I don't have a musical bone in my body' when asked if I play an instrument. He said that he'd been inspired by Leonardo Da Vinci, a true polymath (thanks Wikipedia): painter, sculptor, architect, musician, on and on. Danny reasoned that Da Vinci had a brain and two hands, just like he does, so what's keeping him from being a well-rounded person capable of playing multiple instruments, among other things? Fair play, Danny. I've always said that the banjo would be the one instrument I'd want to learn how to play, and well I certainly will have free time on my hands over the next 2 years, so the banjo search begins! If anyone in the US, Honduras, or elsewhere has tips on buying (and of course playing) a banjo, please get in touch. I'd like to start this new hobby up as soon as possible.
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| The Catracha serving Catrachas |
Finally, I'd always wondered what it'd be like to have a younger sister and Marcela, 13, kind of made me wish I'd had one growing up! She is a really good girl, a joker at heart. Always up for a laugh, and playing off the fact that she's the beloved baby of the family, she was always making faces, teaching me Honduranismo's (funny Honduran sayings), and generally playing around. That said, she's a good student and a good cook! Whenever the parents were running late, she'd whip up something simple but delicious so that the gringo wouldn't morir de hambre.
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