De Pollo?

In case you can´t read it clearly, the middle shop is called 'Supremos Chicken´s.' Just think about that for a second.

Sofá Incendiado

I really don’t think this picture needs any explanations (more than our electricity was cut, there were some candles, and it was windy).

Nuestra Piscina y Calabaza de Agua

We don’t really have “running water,” or “showers” in the traditional sense of the word (or in any sense for that matter). We receive water (sometimes) once or twice a week (I’ll be the first to admit that showers aren’t always a daily (or for some roommates, a weekly) requirement). What we do have is a pila (or as I like to think of it: a miniature, concrete, above-ground swimming pool). It get’s filled with water (on those occasions when the water doesn’t randomly not come for two-and-a-half weeks), and then we can disperse it throughout the house using age-old bucket technology. Being (somewhat) health conscious, we sometimes decide to clean our pila out (to remove the leaves/dirt that has blown in and kill any mosquito larvae which might have started to spawn in our water source (it usually doesn’t get that bad since we add mosquito-killing bags to our water every so often).

On one memorable Sunday morning, we converted our water reservoir into it’s true purpose: a miniature, concrete, above-ground swimming pool. The thing about Honduras is that it can get hot, and the thing about our house is that it has a metal roof… (I could draw you a diagram, but I think you get the picture). So basically, with the pila already needing a good washing, we decided to do what any creative and reasonable group of people would do: jump in (and we actually did jump… into about 2 feet of water). While I’ve sense made motions to permanently turn the pila into a picina, I’ve got voted down every time (something about needing water to bathe and clean dishes… rubbish).

On the subject of water, just thought I’d also put up a picture of our “shower.” Laugh all you want, but a trick-or-treating pumpkin head with holes poked in the bottom makes a great shower (water not included).

El Año Viejo

It’s a tradition here to celebrate the New Year by remembering the old year. And by remembering the old year, I mean, of course, taking a bunch of old and tattered clothes, making a scare-crow-like muñeca with them, filling the doll with fireworks and dousing it in gasoline, and setting that “old year” on fire and rejoicing in its destruction like a much hated effigy. While I unfortunately missed this particular tradition (I was up north on Roatan with my family (a little too ritzy for flaming dolls)), I saw footage of it later, and I can assure you that this is one piece of culture which I will definitely try to bring back with me and integrate into the American celebration of the New Year.

Festejos Navideño

When the clock struck twelve on “Navidad” (the 24th), I discovered there was another big difference about Christmas here: there are fireworks, lots and lots of fireworks. Fireworks are sold for 2-3 weeks leading up to Christmas at any number of makeshift-stands that were put up in and around the market. Everyone has fireworks (even 4 year-olds). Hopefully we all remember my stance on fireworks here (reminder: they are more unpredictable and explosive than normal fireworks—I hate them (case in point: you all know what “poppers” are, right? Those things you can throw on the ground to make a nice popping sound? You know how you can usually snap one in your fingers without any bodily harm, right? Not here. The “poppers” here actually explode into a ball of flames, and while I’m not an expert in pyrotechnics, I’m pretty sure that snapping one in your hand would blow off all/part of your fingers)). Now, try and imagine what it would be like if every man, woman and child in a densely populated city had a mound of (dangerous) fireworks at their disposal, and further, that the only place they had to light them off were in the streets and on the sidewalks in front of their houses (or throwing them in the air as they were walking down the street), and further, that at the same time that the streets were being filled with fire, another group of people decided it would be a good idea to celebrate by jumping in their cars and racing throughout the city blaring their horns (and regularly running over lit fireworks (it’s a good thing that gas isn’t combustible or anything)). Describing the situation as total chaos doesn’t even begin to do it justice. My world was literally lit up “like the forth of July” (thank you Toby Keith). What amazed (and simultaneously embarrassed) me most was how my tense/frightened/fidgety mood was in stark contrast to the laughing/joyful/calm faces of all the locals. For example: a small child would run out into the middle of the street (avoiding the swerving cars and myriad of other explosions (did I mention that this was a small child… like 5 years-old?)), and light a string of (dangerous) explosives (o yea, the fuse lengths of the fireworks are all of variable timings and lengths, sometimes leaving only a moment for the person to stand up before it does its thing) and suddenly (this happened quite frequently surprisingly), nothing happened. There was no explosion, no bang, no nothing (remember that thing about the variable fuse length? Yea… well sometime that meant that it would take half a second, other times it meant it would take 20 seconds… never really figured out how to tell one for the other, and I don’t think anyone else had either). So naturally, the child would immediately run back out (avoiding cars) and try to pick-up/stamp out the firework (safety first). I was surprised in the fact that I was lucky enough to avoid seeing any injuries or hearing about any the next day. So maybe I’ll start a project advocating for firework safety standards…

About 30-58 minutes after midnight (as long as it takes for the WMDs to run out), then the people really start celebrating. The eating/visiting continues, mixed in with some (alright, a lot of) dancing and closed door celebrations. While we were all too tired (before you judge, remember that we’d been up all day visiting people in the community, and that we also wanted to get up the next day and celebrate Christmas Vol. 2) to join in the festivities, I think I recall the music being blared by neighbors finally settling down at around 4:30.
All things considered (the abundance of food, lack of injuries, etc), it was definitely a Christmas to remember (also, my host brother got a Wii for Christmas, so that’s been nice).

Nacimiento

While Christmas trees have always been a staple of the holiday season for me, I found out that this wasn’t the case in Honduras. More important than the tree (which many families now have, don’t worry) is the Nacimiento (nativity scene). Now, I know what you’re thinking: nativity scenes include a manager, a couple figurines (Mary, Joseph, Jesus, Three Kings, Angel, Shepard), some animals (goats, sheep, etc), and hay. My family has one it puts on a small table. No big deal, right? Not exactly. The nativity scenes that families make here take up an entire wall to an entire room. They have the standard birth-of-Jesus section, but also include a representation of nature (various trees, animals of land and sea), a section representing your local city (in this case Talanga, complete with ladies making Tortillas, the central parque, pulperias, etc), and a greater portion representing Honduran culture in general. Some people painstakingly craft their own ceramic buildings/people/animals, some use action figures and toys (I saw one family have the ninja turtle Michelangelo watching over the baby Jesus), but most use a combination of both (i.e. Flounder from Disney’s The Little Mermaid was in a pool of water along with other sea critters next to an ornately made representation of the local church). Every nacimiento I saw had it’s own unique theme, a different view of what was most important around the holiday’s in the artist’s eyes. This was my favorite one, and thankfully was only a half-block away from where we live. Enjoy.

Fecha de Navidad?

Most noticeable difference: when talking about “Navidad,” here, you’re actually talking about the 24th of December. People know that Christmas is on the 25th, and will plainly admit as much, but here it is the 24th that reigns supreme. Basically, the whole day of the 24th people cook food (tamales, arroz, frijoles, cerdo, pollo, ensalda, etc, etc, etc) and visit friends and family, eating as they go (I think final count was that I had 3 lunches and 2 dinners (of Chipotle-sized portions… and it’s rude not to eat everything (I wasn’t hungry for the next 3 days))).

Baile de Navidad

To get into the Christmas spirit, we helped produce a pageant with some local kids (I guess my official title would have been “Executive Producer,” a fancy title for a job that consisted of bringing snacks for the kids and keeping them entertained until the director arrived). The real credit for the dance has to go to the “director,” a local guy named Luis. It seems impossible that I’ve failed to mention anything about Luis up to this point on the blog seeing as how important of a role he’s played in my time here so far, but it appears that I have. Luis is a renaissance man. He came from nothing, growing up in the dumps of Tegucigalpa. By some standards, people would still think he has nothing: no steady job, no family, no official positions in town. But there are other standards to be used to judge a man. He plays (at last count) 3 instruments (4 if you include the fact he can sing better than any person I’ve personally met), speaks surprisingly fluent English (though he speaks it as little as he can around us to help us learn Spanish better), has a detailed knowledge of world events and histories (with a special interest in the arts, referencing composers and artists I’ve never even heard of (though he also likes Bob Dylan and (of course) the Beatles)), paints/teaches/pantomimes, and the list just keeps on growing. In my opinion, he’s the most well-known, well-liked person in Talanga. When you’re walking down the street with him, it would be more unusual for him not to stop and talk with passerby’s (all of whom he seems to know by name (in a town of over 15,000, not too bad of a feat, especially seeing as that he’s not from here)). He’s Episcopalian, though volunteers much of his time in the Catholic Church as the choir director in addition to other pursuits. I’m sorry for going on like this. I just needed to give him a proper introduction before I give him the credit he deserves. So basically, Mike and I “started this pageant” which basically consisted of asking Luis to help us. Starting in the beginning of December, we would met with a group of local kids each Monday, and Luis would teach them songs and dances. Some people are just great with kids, and he’s one of them. With only about 7 hours of actual meeting time, he was able to teach them 8 coordinated singing/dancing routines. I’ll try to put my favorite song of theirs up online (internet connection pending), but at least enjoy a picture of the whole group.

Decoraciónes de Navidad

About a week before Christmas, we were really bored. Not feeling like doing the usual (playing cards, reading a book, watching a movie, etc), and feeling particularly taken up in the Christmas spirit, we decided to make a bunch of snowflakes and hang them from our roof (thus creating the illusion that it wasn’t actually 70 degrees outside and keeping the hope alive that we might see some snow). It took a while, but like I said, we were bored and had a lot of time. All in all, I think we made around 33 snowflakes. I had wanted to put this up before Christmas (sorry), but seeing as that most of you are still in the dead of winter… yea I don’t know where I’m going with that. Still, hopefully you can appreciate the craftsmanship and beauty of the snowflakes.

Y Felicidad

Feliz Navidad y Año Nuevo! (Granted, this messages comes a bit late into the New Year and well after Christmas, but better late than never.) In all honesty, I’m only just getting back on my feet after a wild and crazy holiday season.

As sad as I was to be away from home for Christmas (my first time ever (don’t worry, I didn’t cry (that much))), it actually turned out to be a whole lot of (a different kind of) fun. I present to you the following string of Christmas Stories (thought it would be better to lay these out separately, as I wrote them that way anyways, and didn’t want to publish a single gigantic block of text/pictures). Enjoy.