Coffee but not Cappuccino

I have a lot of thoughts and realizations that I want to pour out to you, but like pouring hot water too fast over too many coffee grounds, they overflow at the top of the filter, making a mess rather than a flowing liquid of richness. Riding on a bus in Tegucigalpa, passing the outer slums, a lady wearing a knee length green skirt and contrasting orange and yellow blouse balancing a large white sack on her head holds my eye. She climbs the dirt mound polk a dotted with wooden shacks. Most likely, her residence is one of those modest dwellings. I wonder how she feels looking out of her door each morning. Does she feel and live the beauty of the morning sun welcoming a new day?

I know some people that live in middle-upper class suburbs but they do not notice nor appreciate the morning sun. Sometimes despite its beauty and splendor, it becomes a part of a dull everyday routine. Rich people can live in poverty too. The real heartbreakers-- lonlieness, anger, guilt, and sadness can eat away anybody no matter what social class they belong to. The taxi driver that transfered me from the bus stops shared with me, "I am poor. I was not born with stars. I used to haul firewood from the forest." Note: nearly everybody has a wood burning stove which makes firewood necessary. He said that he had promised himself that he would not always have to haul firewood. He dropped out of school after sixth grade and then joined the military for awhile. Now he drives a taxi. Honestly, I would rather haul firewood and enjoy the nature of the countryside rather than drive a taxi in the slums of the polluted capital. Life is how one perceives it. I told him that I believe that everyone is born with stars and some type o destiny-meaning to help and integrate with others. I thanked him for the ride.

I think of my neighbor Doña Licha. Every morning, I walk out the back door to use the latrine, I ask her, "Como esta?"
"Alegre!" And she really is happy, as if it were a body trait like her skin color or hair color. She is happy and really enjoys the simplicity and beauty of life. She enjoys making tortillas and taking care of her children, grandchildren and daughter-in-law all under one roof.

More and more, I realize and believe that poverty is a concept of self-perception rather than an economic condition. What about me? How am I and who am I? I am happy for the love that I have, afraid of losing it, excited for all the good in the future and worried for all the bad because inevitably both good and bad travel together. I am everything all at once. I am becoming me-- not a North American anymore nor a Honduran, but rather a confusion between the two.

Easter is now another X marked off the calendar. I hope the big fat Easter bunny brought you lots of eggs, even though I do not understand this concept when bunnies do not even lay eggs. When I try to describe our traditions of the Easter bunny or Santa Clause to Hondurans, they wrinkle their eyebrows and stare back at me big eyed. Living in a diferent culture holds a mirror to my own culture, leading me to analyze it and see it from a different perspective. Here also, like in the States, Easter time is a holiday. The week is all vacation time for schools, factory workers and basically everybody. Men usually get drunk, drunk, and more drunk. They swerve back and forth on their horses and sleep in the street-- which is just as proposterous as the Easter bunny but certainly more dangerous. Families also swim in the river as a type of religious cleansing. We escaped both culture traditions and found peace and adventure hiking in the mountains with three other Peace Corps volunteers-- Tim, Xavier, and Karen. We stayed three nights in the cloud forest-jungle feeling the energy of nature and hiked 40 kilometers in total. Here are a few favorite moments from the trip to the Muralla cloud forest.

1. The public bus brought us to the closest town called La Union. From there we walked four hours to the reserve. We left the dry hot dusty town and it gradually changed to pine tree forest then coffee and banana plantations and finally to heavy lush green underbrush. The changes in climate, temperature, and environment is amazing. We left the dry town setting and arrived high in the cool mountain cloud forest setting within 14 kilometers of hiking up, up, up with heavy backpacks loaded with packaged beans, tortillas, oatmeal, water, tents, clothes, and sleeping bags to get us through the next three nights.

2. One morning, our fellow Peace Corps volunteer, Timothy woke up early to use the latrine. While hovering over the hole, he felt rising air beneath him. Before he had time to think, two bats flew in between his legs. Less than five minutes later, I also used the latrine. Luckily, Timothy didnt tell me until my business was done about his encounter with the bats.

3. Hiking through vibrant green bamboo, vines and towering trees and then seeing a flock of toucans fly above us!

4. Even though I loved our adventure hiking and sightseeing in the cloud forest, I admit that one of the best moments was arriving to our humble town once again and pouring the first bucket of cold water over myself washing off days of sweat.

While I love adventure, experiencing life and learning-- I think of you all often and miss you. There never is a place like, "real true blue home." While I have a home here in Moroceli, it is like (for you Judy) drinking coffee with sugar but not quite as good as with your hazelnut creamer. Or for you Dad-- While here in Honduras my home is like driving a motorcycle with the wind through my hair, but home in Kalamazoo with you is like riding a Harley. Or for you, Tammy, Moroceli is like off brand chocolate, but it doesn`t melt in your mouth like German chocolate that I know you love.

I will enjoy exploring the nooks and corners of Honduras but every inch of the way, I miss you all and love you all. The warmth of your love and support keeps me moving forward.