~ HONDURAS ~ part four ~

~ Honduras ~ part four ~

Hey Everyone!! Wow, it’s been a LONG time since the last time I wrote anything! College got insanely busy for me second semester and I can honestly say that during the times when I wasn’t writing papers or reading, when I actually had a bit of free time, I really didn’t WANT to write more on my blog.  So I took quite a long break. But now that it is summer I decided that this would be a good opportunity to make some more progress on my blog J

I know that I am not even halfway through my Honduras narrative yet; and as much as I love Honduras, I would, at this point, enjoy moving on to my more current activities surrounding college and the place that I am spiritually at this moment.  However, I intentionally wanted to convey the experience in the most extreme detail that I possibly could, both as a way to have it documented for myself, and also as a way to share the experience with others. So far, I feel that I have done this well, and I don’t plan to start leaving out things now; I am just hoping that I can motivate myself to write these more often.

So. Tuesday! Probably one of the most memorable days for me. 

After breakfast of course, we loaded into the truck and the van and made the drive to the Escuela Nazareno, a Nazarene school for children in grades one and two.  Our team had packed various art supplies and beads, plus a few soccer balls, and we brought them here with the intention of getting to know the kids and helping out around the school for half a day.

When we arrived at the school, the kids were still in their classrooms but one could hear their excited chatter and laughter through the windows on either side, so we gathered in the main worship hall to wait.  Soon, the teachers brought in all the kids, kindly shooing them along whenever they stopped to stare at us. Introductions all around, during which we attempted to meet every stare or bashful smile with a smile or small wave of our own. When the basic greetings were over, the teachers then lead each class in a small performance; a few songs, a recitation of one of the Psalms, a reenactment of the story of the crippled man, and a special version of “head, shoulders, knees and toes” which the children had learned not only in their native Spanish, but had also taken the time to learn in English as well.

Following this, our team divided into two groups, and went to prepare the activities. In the group I was in, we laid out small, decorative wooden crosses that the children would be painting. The younger of the two groups came to our classroom first and we helped them write their names on the back of their cross and showed them what to do. I felt that this was the only time during the whole trip where I really struggled with the language barrier.  For little kids are not able to understand why you, an adult, would not be able to understand them. Usually, I am very good with kids, and have always been able to connect with them; however, it was very difficult for me to connect when I couldn’t even respond to their questions and was barely even able to find out their name. It wasn’t really until the second group came in that I felt I was able to connect more. We ended up having a few extra crosses so some of us decided to join in the painting itself. I sat down with a table of about four little girls and one boy and began to put my art skills to use, painting delicate little flowers that cascaded over my wooden cross. The kids were enthralled and in no time we were complimenting each other’s work. All of the little girls at my table began mimicking my art style and by the end we had five or six, beautifully flowery crosses.

Though I felt that this was a big success, I admit that I was a bit jealous of how well Nathan was able to connect with the kids; laughing, smiling, having small conversation, giving jumping high-fives, and he even taught them the classic “up high – down low – too slow”. During our big group picture one of the little boys even wanted to sit on his lap. It was quite amazing to witness, in any case, and I loved watching him play with the children. It was one of those days that I was again reminded of his incredible heart.

retrieving one of the balls

small river we had to cross - it smelled terrible

Following our art projects, with the help of the teachers, we gathered the kids into a massive group and walked a few blocks from the school to a large asphalt area that had basketball hoops, a few soccer goals and some bleachers. Here we pulled out the various soccer balls that we brought and ran around with the kids in a rudimentary game of futbol. Needless to say we “lost”. We simply could not keep up with the children running in that sweltering heat and humidity; if we were lucky we got in a kick or two, but we were always out-maneuvered and it wasn’t long before we were out of breath. But to see them laughing and having such a good time was well worth any dehydration we may have suffered.

The most touching part for me though, was after we had walked back to the school, many of the kids, before returning to their classrooms, stopped to give us hugs. Once inside though, as we were gathering our things, we could hear the teachers leading the kids in a recitation of some sort. Lindsay translated for us, “they’re saying a prayer for the foreigners who came and played with them today.” When I heard that it gripped my heart like a vice. These children, who come from what in America would be considered complete squalor, still have the ability to love and play and learn just as well, if not better than any other child, and would in an instant pray for us when it would appear that they are the ones in need. It was then that it really sank in that I have far more to learn from this trip than I could ever give to anyone I met.

"Quesooooooooooo!"

 On the way back from the school we took a short detour to the church that Romellia and her family were in the process of moving into. It was a large concrete building with nothing more than a small, rickety fence to protect it. The yard was overgrown and the inside was dust-covered. The classroom in the back which the family was going to turn into their living quarters, was even worse off. There was no plumbing, no electricity, no windows, and the carcass of some animal long-dead lay in the middle of the room.  Regardless, she showed us around gleefully; excitedly telling us all her plans. Even when she told us that her and her family would be moving into this shell of a building that Saturday, it was with great excitement. This woman of Christ was following His will with the utmost attention and excitement, wherever it might lead her and her family.

After a quick lunch we headed back and spent the rest of the day on the work site. The next day we would be ready to begin installing the roof! J