School Days Honduran Style

Carol, writing in her journal. Carol is the daughter of one of the tias.
She and her mother live at the orphanage. 

Part of working in a foreign country means being quiet. Americans are opinionated people. We know the “best”, most efficient ways to do things. We get annoyed when things don’t meet our standards.

The day after we arrived, Jeanie took us to the school. We watched her teach the kids for the English part of class. The next day she handed over the reigns of this 16-member class to me, a high school English teacher who hasn’t taught in over 8 years. There is no curriculum, no guidelines. Thankfully there is a room full of donations of craft books, paper supplies, staplers, crayons, markers, puzzles, flash cards, etc. The current crafts on the wall were clearly done by the Spanish teachers who merely let the kids pick the colors. I have opinions, curriculum desires, ways I want to do things, but I am being quiet…my ways may not be best.

The students range in age from 3-6. But the real complication is the five kids, either children of the tias or from the village who didn’t grow up at the orphanage. They don’t know much English, and I don’t know enough Spanish. There is Sonya, a bilingual teacher who supervises the school and helps with the schooling of Joy, Mama and Papa’s 10-year-old. In a pinch, I drag a kid who doesn’t know what I want them to do or who won’t behave and can’t understand what I am saying, to Sonya who speaks for me.

Snack time at school--a volunteer medical team
 brought donuts for the kids.

Some of the standard practices here are appalling to us germophobic Americans. In the afternoon, the Spanish teachers regularly get one big cup of water and pass it around for drinking. The philosophy here seems to be, “They all live together, they all get sick together anyway.” Maybe true, but hard to watch. As much as I want to do things according to the culture, I still insist on separate cups. Maybe more disconcerting for me , was when Marlon threw up in the toilet at school and was told to return to the classroom. He said he ate too many pancakes for breakfast, but he ate 2, just like the rest of them! On a side note (try not freak out moms), my girls love the lack of seat belts and the wide open windows in a car here and Marie regularly takes all the babies and toddlers to the daycare she runs for working moms…that’s six babies and toddlers in her SUV, car seats don’t exist here as far as I can tell.)

While the safety and health issues are a bit of a bump in my comfort zone, the giant roadblock is the unpredictability. I like schedules. I like reliability, especially when I am teaching and feel woefully inadequate. And when my schedule gets unexpectedly messed with, I get grumpy.

Okay, so this picture of Kassy has nothing to do with the post
(except that is was taken in Honduras) but isn't she lovely?

Currently there is a team of 19 teenagers here. Most days three of them, always different ones, show up to help in the classroom. Some days there are four or five. Some days no one comes. While there is a schedule, it changes so much that I quit reading it and started to pray for peace and flexibility and creativity at the spur of the moment. On Wednesday I wasn’t expecting any help (except Pam who thankfully is always with me) and planned accordingly. Four helpers showed up. On Thursday I was expecting three helpers, four showed up plus three more from a a group of visitors and then a medical missions team came to give the kids check-ups which ended our school time early as the classroom was turned into an exam room. And while 10-year-olds can keep working when someone walks into their class, 4-year-olds have a tendency to run to familiar faces and give giant bear hugs and then forget what they were doing...flexibility. Peace. Joy. It’s okay to change the plans. I’m still praying through this one.

Oh, a surprise trip to a waterfall in the mountains is on our agenda in 30 minutes I must go. Of course, this is Honduras, maybe we will leave in the next two hours. Maybe the vehicle will make it up the mountain. Or maybe the alternator will go out. Always an adventure (Did I tell you about catching the escaped parrot?). Flexibility. Roll with the punches. God is good. All the time. In this, I shall not waiver.

(Post note: the waterfall trip was cancelled last minute, the girls and I went with the team to the hot springs which are practically across the street from our house...they are private so we can't just go whenever. But it poured the whole time and we never went in.)

Jose is 4, I think. He has an adorable laugh and a soft voice.
 He LOVES the attention of any male volunteer. 

Ethelyn is 3. Her twin brother is Henry. Ethelyn is
very mischievous but her smile will win you over.