Waking up in Sulaco is like waking up to an orchestra of noises; birds and
rosters crowing, donkeys and cows
hollering, dogs barking, motorcycles revving, and if I'm lucky sometimes
NSYNC blasting from the neighbors house : ). Although it's a smallish town of 7000, I think it's noisier than most
big cities I've been to. The humidity is
already thick in the early morning hours, with much more intense heat to come
once the sun is out. It's the type of
weather that makes clothes just seem unnecessary, and cold drinks and frozen
treats the best things in the world. Did I mention that I love this weather!!?
If any of you don't know me well, I'm not too keen on waking
up early (that may be the understatement of the century!). So I've taken to
skipping the official group breakfast on most days and instead can wake up a
bit later and just enjoy a mango before I get to work for the day. So if you have never eaten a mango from its' country
of origin, you are missing out on one of life's finest. Fresh, ripe mangos are one of the most
delicious things this earth has to offer. They are so sweet and juicy and the flavor is incomparable to the mangos
you can buy at the grocery stores in Minnesota. In the mornings I will take my
mango and carefully peel the skin off, making sure to also scrap the remaining
fruit that's on the skin off with my teeth so I don't waste any. I eat the mango over the balcony so that I
don't have to worry about the mango juice that is dripping down my chin, hands
and even elbows and can just let it fall on to the street. There is just no way to eat a good mango
without making a mess. Which reminds me
of a story my dad loves to tell about his uncle, Tio Ramon, who was a total
manners fanatic. Tio Ramon lived in my fathers house when my father was a
child and he always had perfect, old school table manners, which he strictly imposed on others as well. So
one day my father and his brother got really excited about trying to see how Tio Ramon would
eat a mango. They bought the mango and excitedly
presented it to him in hopes of a great show. But Tio Ramon simply said
"gentlemen don't eat mangos". Well Tio
Ramon, you missed out big time haha.
Anyway besides the mangos and the homemade tortillas the
food here isn't too exciting and definitely not healthy. They fry a lot of their meat and cook
everything in lard. There is generally
too much salt and they serve any meal with soda (usually coke). Pretty much
every meal here includes beans, tortillas, fresh cheese and some sort of meat. Sometimes they throw in eggs or rice and even
some vegetables. One of my companions is
starting to say ¨If I have to eat beans
one more time... ¨ I'm still fine with
them though, but I do miss my vegetables and the diet here worries me. I have noticed that there is a large
percentage of overweight individuals in the older half of the population. But that may have to do with the fact that I
have seen more potbellies in the last week than I am used to due to the funny
habit Honduran men here have of standing around with their shirts half folded
up in the heat of the day, which comically accentuates their pop bellies.
Since we are staying in Sulcao (the nearest town that has a
hotel) everyday we need to get a ride into the communities that we are working
in. There are nine different communities that we are working at, so some days
it feels like I'm spending half of my day in a pick up truck. We pile a couple
people in the front seat, but most of us are in the back. If we have room we
also pick up anyone on the side of the road, from schoolchildren to old men
with machetes. The rides have become an
enjoyable part of my day. It's incredibly refreshing to feel the wind zipping
around me while watching the beautiful Honduran landscapes rolling by; green
mountains and hills in the distance, small plots of agricultural land growing corn
or yucca on either side of the rocky, dusty road. Its just the beginning of the rainy season so
the land still looks a bit dry, and the
rivers are low. But it's getting greener everyday. And we have been lucky, it has only been
raining in the evening so far, so we are able to get in full workdays in the
sun everyday. We are usually the only vehicle
on the road. Sometimes there is another truck or person on a bike, horse or
donkey. Our driver likes to joke about how much traffic there is when we run
into a herd of cows on the road. Our driver Ernesto, has become our best friend
here. He is the community plummer and he takes us around in his red truck all
day, back and forth from community to community for us to do our work. So we
have gotten to know each other pretty well and I am sure he will be the person
I will miss the most when I am gone from here.
Ernesto is a big guy for a Honduran. As one engineer but it, in general,
everything here is smaller except the bugs, the kids are scrawny, you can see
all the ribs on the skinny dogs and horses that run around and the adults are
short. But Ernesto is about 6 feet tall
and solid, with a loud voice and charismatic personality. He gave me a nickname, Teresa la Mexican, La
Reina del Sur (Teresa the Mexican, the queen of the south) during the first
week and since then others in the community have started to call me that as
well. I guess it's from some narco drug lords song, but I can't say I mind the nickname
too much haha. Oh and did I mention that he keeps a steady supply of mangos available to us??....
I am a big fan : )!
Thanks for reading!
