The Great Migration

Since my last update, I've been in Siguatepeque, San Pedro Sula, and Tegucigalpa. Tomorrow, Campamento. When I tell my mom where I'm headed next, she usually sends back an e-mail of what I presume is a synopsis of the city's Wikipedia entry. I'm not really sure why, but she always includes the percentage of the population with HIV. Mom, I appreciate your concern but I really don't think you should worry about that. :)

Here's a run down of my adventures in the various cities...

Siguatepeque: We put the finishing touches on the Bloqueria it's now officially up and running. There are two guys manning the machine and they churn out 400 blocks a day.

San Pedro Sula: We had a vacation day and went to a water park. I say water park... think of a 1970s version of Schiltterbaugn. I think the one day pass was about $4. All in all, it was a lot of fun. Several of the missionary families were there and Aaron and I had some uncle training (that's right, if you haven't heard yet, we're going to be uncles). I went on three different watersides and sustained injuries on two of them. I've deiced that safety standards in Honduras are a little different than back home...

Tegucigalpa: This past week we worked at a church in Tegucigalpa. The church, Iglesia Betel, is in one of the poorest areas in town. I'm only writing about this now because I didn't want my mom to be worrying all week (or informing me of the HIV rate). We worked with the pastor, Pablo, and his brother, Giovanni. Monday through Wednesday we worked on installing the electrical system in a new church building. Thursday and Friday we switched over to masonry and built a block wall for security. Like I said, it's a rough part of town.

We stayed in a hotel and worked a deal with a cab driver, Victor, for round trips every day. We learned a little bit more about him every day, which proved to be very entertaining. Here are some of the fun tidbits... His family lives next door to the church. His car is a 1982 Datsun... I'm surprised it runs. He was a cab driver in L.A. for five years and worked "sin papeles", "without papers" (he was an illegal). When the authorities hassled him, he just gave them a little money. His dad is one of the larger drug runners in the area (almost certain of this). So... good times with Victor.

Several times through out the week, I could smell that someone near by was smoking pot. This morning, like most mornings, there were several man standing outside the gate of the church. These men live nearby, don't work, and are usually drunk. I'm always cordial and asked how they are doing. This morning, they were smoking and I again asked them how they were doing. The response I got was, "todo tranquilo." Meaning, "all is calm." I'll bet.

Throughout the week, I've enjoyed getting to see and experience new things. The streets in this neighborhood resemble the scenes from the informercials that try to guilt you into paying "less than a dollar a day to feed these helpless children." Kids are playing soccer. There are lots of skinny dogs and rusty cars. Women cary baskets on top of their heads and there's lots of exposed midriff that really does't need to be exposed. Ever. One day we almost ran over a man who was passed out in the street. I thought he was dead. I don't care for the infomercials, but these people truly are poor. They make about $7 a day. I spend that much in one day for the cab rides alone. I'm constantly reminded of how blessed we are in the United States.

Up next is Campamento. As usual, I have no idea what to expect. The agenda includes... putting a roof on a house, building bunk beds for a widow with four little boys, and welding up the members of the bridge deck. I hear Tilapia is a staple of the area and they fry the entire fish. Not being a fish/seafood eater, I'll be honest, I'm dreading that aspect. I really don't like the idea of my dinner staring back at me.

Thanks for reading! Please keep us in your prayers.

La Bloqueria

For the last two weeks, Aaron and I have been

 working on getting a concrete block operation up and running.  Once operational, the idea is that the “Bloqueria” will generate revenue for the seminary.  A big step toward being

 self-sufficient.

I’ll spare you the details, but so far we have:

Set forms, placed rebar, placed concrete, set the machine, and made 200 pads for the machine.  No worries.

We went through about 20 cheap drill bits and sunk a total of 2,000+ screws.  

I made up a little custom jig to help speed the process along.

And don’t worry, we took care of the necessities.  Like music.  See my Honduran version of an iPod dock below:

Hopefully we will be 100% operational in the next day or two… Stay tuned.

I’ve also managed to find some chiggers.  Right now, my legs are pretty itchy.  I think that I can sort of make out the Little Dipper on my right calf.

I continue to work on my Spanish.  I’m sure it’s not pretty, but I can usually get the point across.  I’m finding that it’s easier to speak than it is to comprehend.  You see, I know all of the words that I’m saying, but when someone starts using words beyond my vocabulary, it’s easy to get lost.  This bothers me a little bit, because I’m reminded of a clever saying:  “God gave you two ears and one mouth, think about that.”

I enjoy talking to little kids because they have a more limited vocabulary and speak more slowly.  Just like me.  I have lots of new, little 

friends.

Going Strong.

So… we’re just about two weeks into this gig and going strong.  Aaron and I spent a few days in Tegucigalpa, and then a few more in Siguatepeque, then back to Teguc, and now back in Siguat. 

Before the trip started, I was a little bit worried about food.  I had images in my mind of a dinner plate with a fish staring back at me.  We’ve actually had it good though.  Really good.  Tim, one of the other missionaries, frequently reminds us how we’re “suffering for Jesus.”  This is usually when we’re about to dive into some fine cuisine.

On our last drive from Teguc to Siguat, we had the honor and privilege of riding in the cab of a delivery truck.  A good ol’ American made GMC.  We chugged along at about 45 km/hr.  About 28 mph.  What usually has been a two-hour drive was now about… double that.  I was able to practice my Spanish.  I didn’t really have much choice in the matter though as the driver and his friend didn’t speak English. 

We made one stop along and I asked if we were stopping for lunch.  I didn’t understand much of the reply, but told Aaron, “he said something about corn.”  We were in for a treat… the men offered us some sort of hot, corn, milk, sugar beverage.  I was appreciative that the two wanted to share something that they enjoyed with us.  I mean, this would be like me buying a Dr. Pepper for someone who had never had it before.  Truly a special treat…

I hope to never drink that concoction ever again!  I managed to put it all down thanks to training I received as a young child.  “Son, you’re going to finish everything on your plate, whether you liked it or not.”  Or perhaps it was because my time in the Corps and the wonderful food in Duncan Dining Hall.   Aaron on the other hand… had a little bit tougher time with it.  It appeared painful for him.  I looked over to him and said, “Now, you’re suffering for Jesus.”

That being said, the corn ‘stuff’ has probably been the lowlight thus far.  So I’d say we’re doing pretty well.  And SPEAKING OF DR. PEPPER, don’t you worry, I found some here in Siguatepeque.  Eleven lempiras (± 58 cents) well spent.  I told the lady at the counter, “This is made in Texas.  I’m from Texas.”