A few years back, as my departure to China was nearing, I received this advice from a number of concerned friends: “Don’t go off and fall in love with a Chinese woman.” I received no such advice regarding my trip to Honduras. But now, I have an announcement. My heart now belongs to a Honduran girl. Her name is Jenny and she is the cutest thing ever. She also happens to be three years old. So… no, I am not in love. I’m just getting a sneak peak at unclehood. As I said before, Aaron and I are Uncles In Training.
The past three weeks have been quite a ride. Aaron and I were joined by Alan, and Govani. Alan is a native Honduran who has worked in the states for the last 14 years, and Govani is a Honduran who we also worked with in Tegucigalpa. The four of us stayed in Campamento (read as: “In the middle of nowhere”), at a local church.
The people were incredibly hospitable. They chose to show their hospitality by feeding us. I’ve never had so many corn tortillas… One day they fed us five times. We ate because we didn’t want to be rude, but politely asked them to tone it down. In my broken Spanish, I told one of the ladies that if I continued to eat five meals a day, my mom would not recognize me when I returned home. That may sound far fetched, but she didn’t recognize me after my first week in the Corps of Cadets so you never know…
So aside from eating, what have we been up to? A lot. In 18 days, we made two roofs, two sets of bunk beds, a door, two windows, 25 bridge sections (welded and painted), and 204 brackets for the railing. We played soccer with the kids, swam in the river and visited several surrounding towns. Danli, Chichi Caste, San Ramon, Paraiso, and San Diego what is about 15 minutes from the Nicaraguan border.
Life in Campamento is a little different. It’s a rural, agricultural community. The pastor told us that Campamento produces a lot of beans, coffee, corn, and babies. We usually went to bed around 8, sometimes earlier. When you don’t have electricity, you don’t have light. When you don’t have light, you sleep. This probably has something to do with the high baby count as well. Anywho…
Whenever I tossed or turned in the night, my bed would creek eerily. Consequently, my roommates affectingly nicknamed my bed, “The Black Pearl.” A Pirates of the Caribbean reference. I consider myself to be fairly low maintenance, but I was not very fond of the bed and it’s lumpy 2x4 supports. I never grew fully accustomed to the mosquito net either, though I was glad to have it when I found a tarantula on the outside of my net. See my pictures for photographic evidence. We began referring to our nets as our “fortresses.” A fitting name.
Going to bed early also means waking up early. Around 4 AM, the symphony began. This symphony had no cellos, violins, or conductor. It was comprised of roosters, geese, dogs, and some corn machine that I still don’t fully understand. Some mornings, I felt like it must be some sort of twisted prank.
All that being said, I think we had it pretty good. Now, I certainly would have enjoyed a hot shower or the ability to check my e-mail, but follow me here for a second…
First of all, these people are poor. Dirt poor. Chances are, the computer you are reading this on is worth as much as a house the these people call ‘home.’ A typical wage for a Honduran man would be the equivalent of $7 a day. I like numbers, so I pushed a few buttons on the calculator to help put things into perspective. My iPod would cost more than a month’s wages. Going a step further… let’s say that Joe American makes $50,000 a year. At $7 a day, Jose Honduran would have to work 365 days a year for 19.5 years to make the same amount. Six figures? Getting close to a lifetime worth of work for a Honduran.
The numbers have some shock value, and that got me thinking. My perspective began to change. Any house I have ever lived in would be unimaginable luxury to the people of Campamento. I supposedly “sacrifice” by spending a few weeks on a lousy bed, with cold showers and no access to my beloved electronic devices. In exchange, two families now have roofs. Four little boys, who have never slept on a real bed, now have beds. Hundreds of people are a huge step closer to having a bridge that enables them to continue to go to work and church during the five months of the rainy season. If the people of Campamento grow closer to God, or they see His love in these actions, then I would argue that it isn’t really a sacrifice at all. It’s a bargain.
I can say with confidence that I have received much more than I have given. This seems to be a reoccurring pattern with God. I feel like I can relate with Paul’s writings a little more. I’m humbled by stories of missionaries that I have given everything and haven’t thought twice. They understand that the very best this life has to offer does not hold a candle to what is to come. Furthermore, they live like it.
“If you read history you will find that the Christians who did the most for this present world were precisely those who thought the most of the next. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this.” - C. S. Lewis
