Beisbol

I coached a baseball team today (I don’t know if it’s fair to call what I did coaching (it’s hard to coach kids who are better than you are at what you’re coaching them at (I’m not very good at baseball if you’ve never had the chance to watch me in action))). So really, it was more like a threw a ball to (or close to) some kids so that they could catch/hit. Somehow or another, while my attention was focused elsewhere I got hit in the back of the head by a ball (which was much softer than an actual baseball). Thinking this was o-so-hilarious, the kids spent the rest of practice throwing fastballs at/around my head and body area when I wasn’t looking (and though they were only 12 or 13, they threw a lot faster than I could (which, based on my lack of skill in baseball, isn’t saying much (but still more than nothing)). Don’t know if I’ll continue with the baseball coaching or not....

Lo Estallar

Most everyone I meet here knows the same handshake (which is actually awesome). It’s simple, but effective: you begin with a side high-five, pull back, and finish it off with a fist pound. While already a modern marvel, I’ve decided to combine our two cultures by introducing the “blow up” (as it’s known on the streets) to the kids here (for those of you not familiar, this act involves opening your hand with an explosive motion following a fist pound (as if the collision of fits created some sort of unstable reaction)). So far, I’ve only had the opportunity to follow the effect of this addition in a single child, but the success of this subject (Subject X or Sylar) is promising for the spread of this phenomenon.

Exterminación del Piñata

Two things I realized pertaining to piñatas: one, a Honduran child is at least ten times more excited about the prospect of a piñata than every other child I’ve seen prepare to break one open (combined); second, a Honduran child is entirely capable of and willing to (more wanting to) utterly and completely destroy a piñata if given the chance. Like the mountain cat, I wish I had made a video of this event transpiring (I really need to start carrying a camera with me), but for lack of better medium I will attempt to briefly describe the event in words.

The target of the children’s attack was a big red dog (see: Clifford) piñata. The ETA (estimated time of attack) was set to be at the end of the group meeting, but this didn’t stop the children from throwing balled-up rope/pens/babies (maybe not that last one) at the highly, and somewhat ominously, hanging piñata. Before long, it was piñata time. It quickly became apparent that the kids couldn’t do much damage when blindfolded (we made it through the entire line-up with hardly a noticeable dent), so the blindfolds were taken off. This lead to greater contact being made, yet still the piñata persisted. Soon, two kids would join the attack together, and de repente (translation: suddenly) the entire mob descended on the piñata like a pack of ravenous wolves onto a big red dog named Clifford. While the bat is the normal weapon of choice for piñata-breaking, these kids preferred to get close and use their hands. Children began jumping onto the piñata, and after two or three of them got a hold, Tyler (the volunteer who was operating the up/down functioning of the piñata) was unable to pull the thing back up despite throwing his entire wait into it (he was literally hanging from the rope). At that point, poor Clifford knew his time had come. He was ripped from limb to limb, creating a mess like I had never before seen as pieces of his body were cast aside in a frantic search to obtain more of his delicious and sweet insides (some of the candy was actually really good (especially this dulce de leche sucker with a coco filling)). Wherever Clifford is now, I hope that it may be a happier place.

Veinticinco Personas en un Carro

The volunteers here drive a rugged manual-transmission Toyota Tacoma (see: river crossing video). It has four doors, can fit 5 comfortably in the cab (6 if someone wants to straddle the gear box), and is made complete by a regular-sized truck bed. Still, The other day, these physical limitations did nothing to prevent us from fitting a total of 25 people (3 of them babies) into/around/on Linda (el nombre de carro (our car is kind of like the village bicycle...)). More shocking still was when we were told that this wasn’t the record (apparently Linda really liked to get around back in the day, one time taking on 28 passengers in a single going. We’ll see if we can’t bring back those glory days during our time.

El Gato De Montaña

So the other day we visited another aldea called Terrero. The drive there lasted about 50 minutes (needless to say it is one of the less accessible aldeas) and most closely reminded me of one of those amusement park rides where you’re on an African safari or running away from a T-Rex in Jurassic park (minus the souvenir photo of course) due to the sloped and often rocky roads we were on (we live in the mountainous/rocky part of Honduras (not to be confused with the jungle/beach part)). So after a rough and bumpy ride, we made it to this aldea and met some pretty amazing people (as a side note, I also received a new nickname, “aldío” (translation: “squirre”), from a little girl (I’m not sure how, but I’m pretty sure Joe had something to do with that one). Around lunch time we stopped in at this one house full of kids to say “hola” (sorry for the long introduction, but I had to set the scene).

After sitting and talking for some time, we noticed what appears to be an animal head on top of the gate we entered through. Upon futher inquiry, we learned that it was, in fact, the head of a small wild cat (apparently it had been attacking their chickens, so they “killed it with a rifle” (translated (I know Giff will like that one)). About the same time one of the boys, Anderson (strange name, I know (especially when you pronounce it with a Spanish accent)), walked up to a girl near us with his hands behind his back. Before any of us have chance to warn the unsuspecting girl, Anderson revealed his hidden contents (the limbs of the recently deceased mountain cat) and delivered them to the girl (near her face area). Thinking this wasn’t funny enough, he then moved on to the head itself. He would shake the gate, watch the head fall off, put the head back on the gate, and repeat. Finally, possibly feeling some regret, he decided to put the cat head out of its misery (by putting it into a ditch and throwing rocks at it). Horribly mutilated, the child then took the head and threw it down a steeply-sloped nearby mountain. We thought this would be the last we saw of the gato... But it wasn’t.

Again, the people in Honduras are very generous, and being as that it was lunch time, we were offered a lunch consisting of soup and tortillas. I’m just going to put it out there right now that this was possibly the worst meal I’ve ever had (ever (made worse by the fact that I has to eat the entire meal as it would have been rude to do otherwise)). The vegetables were old (and thus so hard that I couldn’t even break them apart with a knife), the ratio of liquid : salt had to be about 1 : 1 (maybe more 1 : 0.89), and the chunk of meat present.... well let’s just say we weren’t certain what it was (actually, we did have one theory (see: killed cat story above)). We asked the lady what kind of meat it was, and after some hesitation... she said it was “res” (beef). However, due to the characteristics of the meat (full of tendons, very small and intricate bones (like a cat or small woodland creature), and not much actual edible meat present in each piece), I’m fully convinced we at the same gato whose head a young boy had earlier played with (if I had a nickel...). I wish I had pictures/videos of this to share, but unfortunately I do not. Hopefully the descriptive explanation I’ve provided will suffice.

Pica de Insecto

No one will be shocked to hear that mosquitoes love me here (just like they love me everywhere else I go). While their love for my sweet-smelling skin and delicious-tasting blood is the same, there has been something new. As you can see above, I had a pretty adverse reaction to one of the many bites I’ve received so far. While this is the only instance of this reaction (so far), I haven’t counted out the possibility of Dengue or Malaria (or something really cool that I haven’t even thought about) yet. I’ll keep you updated on what happens with this bulbous/squishy/yellowish/itchy/mountainous bite.

Simon y Garfunkel en Iglesia?

I don’t know what the song was (it was in Spanish (and I obviously don’t speak this language (so well (yet))), but at one point during mass today the entire Church joined together in a song to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel’s classic “The Sound of Silence.” I doubt it was a straight translation...

El Mamut Song

Pretty much, this is the best song I've ever heard (read the lyrics, and imagine it to a tune that is quasi-"Blue Moon"). You have to hear it to appreciate it, so I’ll get on making a recording available.

Contacto Informacion

In case anyone wanted to send me anything (fan mail, candy bars, comics, DVDs of hit TV shows or movies, babies, sun screen, vibranium shields, horse feed, etc...) or give me a call, here would be the best ways to get in touch

Address
Sean McGarvey
Iglesia Catolica
Volunatrios Passionistas
Bario Centro
Talanga, FM
Honduras, Central America

Phone
01150432527854

Una Tormenta

Yesterday we were visiting one of the aldeas (think smaller village in the surrounding area) to meet the locals, get some lunch, and attend a liturgy where we would be introduced. We went around to visit all of the houses, and While the people here may not have much at every stop they would offer us cafe and comida. Culturally, it's rude to turn down such offers, so the other volunteers and myself drank cup after cup of coffee and ate what was handed to us (note: when I say 'coffee,' don't confuse it with the stuff you can get at Starbuck's (on a side note, please boycott Starbuck's and all it's owner stand for). This coffee most closely resembles mud in its consistency and tastes very sweet due to the mounds of sugar added to it (I think it''s kind of good)). It's the rainy season, and unfortunately for us as we were saying our goodbyes one of those tropical storms you always hear about decided to strike.


I've never been scared of trueno or relampago (thunder or lighting)..... or at least I hadn't been until I felt and saw both no less than a football field's length away. The lightning actually looked kind of rounded as it came down (it probably wasn't, but the flash was so bright that it seemed that way anyways), and the thunder sounded like a bomb had gone off (not that I would know what that sounded like..... but you know what I mean). In total, the storm couldn't have lasted more than 30 minutes, but the torrential downpour was enough to transform a small stream trickling across the road into an impassable river (or so we thought). After waiting for a few hours (in which time the river only went down a foot or so) we decided it was safe enough to cross (actually, we were just really bored and wanted to get home. Plus, another truck had just (barely) made it across so we thought we'd try our luck). Enjoy:

Video Courtesy of Joe Runde

Estoy aqui

Hola y bienvenidos a mi blog. I’m not really sure how these things work, but I figured that it was either tell people about what I’m doing in mass e-mails or do this (and this looked a lot cooler (well maybe not cooler, but definitely more interesting)). So where to begin....

I arrived in Honduras 4 days ago into the capital, Tegucigalpa. The first thing I realize was that the people here drive ridiculously (well actually, the first thing I realized was obviously that everyone spoke Spanish and I understood very little of what they were saying to me (as a side note, I also would have gotten into at least 20 accidents on the 10 minute drive to the hotel)). There are no set lanes, and at any given time on a normally sized 4-lane road will be six cars wide going in the same or opposite direction depending on the circumstance. My first Honduran meal was at Campero, a chain of fast food restaurants that originated in Central American (it has been the only fast food chain to make the transition from Central America into the US). Actually, fast food restaurants are actually a big deal down here, being more expensive than normal food. I’ve been told that people will save up all week to go out to Pizza Hut (these establishments are complete with a hostess and waiter/waitress).

The next day we made the trip to my new home for the next year: Talanga. Talanga isn’t a large city by normal standards, but somehow this city and the surrounding area comprised solely of one-story houses have a population of around 30,000 people (thank you Wikipedia). The town has one (partially) paved road, and a bunch of other roads that are not-so-paved (from what I hear, they’re a mud pit in the rainy season and a dust cloud during the dry season). I’ve already seen that people use horses and ox-drawn carts for transportation about as much as they use cars. The natural city-dwelling animals include dogs, chickens, and on occasion pigs (I should also mention the mosquitoes who seem to greatly outnumber both man and animal alike (also, I’ve found that I’m just as delicious to mosquitoes here as I was back home (though not as delicious as I was in Costa Rica (though I am well on my way to surpassing that 91 bites received there))).

Pretty much, the last few days have consisted of last year’s volunteers parading us around town, introducing us to the locals, and translating for us what is being said (the accent is.... muy dificil para entender). The volunteers I’ll be living with for the next year are amazing and fun people (minus Joe). In order of appearance, there is: Joe Runde (don’t know why I’m spending another year with him), Lauren Mahler (a registered nurse from Massachusetts, which turns out is only a commonwealth and not a state at all), Melissa Farrell (another registered nurse from Joe’s neck-o-the-woods in Iowa), and Mike Dubiel (a wandering spirit (you really need to meet this guy to understand) originally from Cleveland who most recently has been living in El Paso as a volunteer) (as a side note: the final two volunteers will not be arriving here until el 1 de Agosto in case you were wondering). During these many introductions, there is one constant that I’ve begun to notice: people cannot for the life of them pronounce my name.

Instead of people saying “Shawn,” I’ve gotten everything from “Shone” to “Jon” to “Chang” (that last one seems to be particularly popular amongst the kids, who asked me if my name was “como ‘Yackie Chang’” (translation: like ‘Jackie Chan’)). So basically, I need to change my name. Chang is actually one of the front-runners (what can I say, I like it (also, I was told that “Chang” is a name taken by many chinos (chinese). When I explained that I wasn’t chino, but in fact japones (japanese), it was quickly explained that in Honduras the two were iguales (the same). Apparently, all Asians are chinos (go figure)). Right now I’m leaning more towards taking the name of Juancho (it’s a long story (and not that interesting), but basically in an activity we were doing I had to guess that I was Juan el bautismo, and jokingly a member of the community began calling me “Juancho” as a result). So I’ll keep you updated on the name front.

Beyond that, I’m just starting to get introduced to the different projects that are available to us (but I’ll save this for another post). Hope all is going well back in the states (this group missed the introduction of the iPhone, so I can only imagine the magnitude of changes that will happen while I’m out of country). Hasta Luego!