NATURAL Sports Performance Enhancer

Seeing students of all ages play soccer every day here reminds me of the way we kids in the south used to play football as often. It never got old.  (And we were pretty good, if I do say so myself!)

In Honduras, even the girls play soccer against each other sometimes. Other times, they may be on the sidelines watching two teams of boys.

Today, their presence around the soccer field was a reminder for me of another sports-related phenomenon:
as serious as boys are about soccer or football 24/7, athletic performance is somehow elevated when girls are watching!

My Student Can Teach You

Below, please find a wall art message from one of my 8th graders.

She handed it to me and asked if I would hang it on the wall in the classroom. As soon as I read it, I appreciated what it was intended to communicate...and I also noticed some problems with her English grammar (remember - her native language is Spanish). But even though I explained the issues to her, she wanted it hung on the wall just the way it was.

I guess in her mind, she was saying, "You understood the meaning, right? Well then, hang my work on the wall already!"

The Neighbor Girls

The neighbor girls decided to invite me over for a dinner of fish, rice, and tajadas (sliced, fried plantains -- think homemade, tasty french fries but with a Central American twist). When I asked what I could bring, chocolate ice cream was the answer.

These neighbors have been really great, looking out for me and reaching out to me.

I tell you -- anytime I'm in a new town, if there are amazing people in the town, I seem to somehow find them and end up becoming friends with them.

So grateful.

The Spanish word for fish is "pescado".

(Pronounced peh-SCAH-doh)

It is definitely different than the fabulous fried catfish in Alabama, but please believe it's tasty nonetheless!

"By the way, you owe me..."

I stood up from the chair and slid my left hand in my pocket. Just then, my barber said an interesting thing.

I didn't understand some of the words, but I was able to make out the part that suggested I failed to pay for the previous haircut two weeks ago! This caught me totally off guard and caused me to spend the next few minutes racking my brain to remember the circumstances of my prior visit.

The barber was able to remind me of something I had said that day. I had mentioned to him that I had to get to an appointment right after the haircut. Those words put me right back in the scene.

It was a Sunday, and I had agreed to teach a lesson at the Bible study I attend. Before Bible Study that afternoon, I had plenty of time for a quick haircut. But wouldn't you know it, the barber was in a particularly chatty mood that day. After I told him I was pressed for time (and heard him confirm that he understood), I was amazed that he proceeded to chat me up more than he ever had before. While I was captive there in his chair, he even talked to me for the first time about his daughter AND took out his cell phone to navigate to a photo for me.

By that point, I had about fifteen minutes to get to the meeting and was practically sweating under the strain of the thought of arriving late to Bible study and not having time to set up my lesson tools in advance.

Maybe that strain caused me to blackout for a minute, because what I have no recollection of is jumping up at the end of the haircut, bolting for the door, and finding the good fortunate of a taxi waiting nearby.

Someone call a taxi?

For the price of what amounts to fifty cents USD, you can receive a bumpy taxi ride on the cobblestone streets of Copan in one of these vehicles. Here, the word people use is "taxi" or "tuk-tuk" (Pronounced "tuck-tuck").

Make sure you're ready to tell the driver your destination in Spanish!

But I figured the barber's story was probably more trustworthy than my memory of the incident, so I forked over the money for two haircuts.

When I asked why he hadn't stopped me as I headed for the door without paying the other week, he named a simple reason - I was fast!

Art Party

Several of the Americans plus one Canadian and an Irishwoman:
one big happy family of foreigners in Copan this year.

Someone decided we should have an "art party" and share our creative talents with each other. It was a great idea, and this is exactly the kind of event I'm famous for attending (since I love music and other art forms) but strictly as a spectator!

But I promised to sing a duet with one of the other teachers, so I had to dust off my neglected guitar skills and try not to totally embarrass myself.

In high school, I spent a lot of time performing on stages, but there's really no thrill in it for me. I'd rather be behind the scenes or in the audience cheering!

Like A Kid Again

When the weather is perfect, I want to be out in it!
Even if I do nothing more than sit with a cup of tea and then sway in a hammock for a while, I'm satisfied.

The perfect 73-degree fall weather that has been missing from Alabama and Tennessee for the past several years:
I found it in Honduras!

For a few weeks now, we have had a break from temperatures in the 80s.

Fall is my favorite season, and the current weather here is like a dream. It is warm at times (but not hot), and it is sometimes cool (but not cold). Seems to me life hasn't felt like this for a period of more than a couple weeks since I was in elementary school.

It's true these green mountains don't have the slightest trace of fall colors, but Copan's soft temperatures and beautiful breezes have transported me right back to the wonder of my childhood autumn days!

It's funny to admit it, but the situation has me literally marveling at weather. There are days when I leave work and cast aside all afternoon plans knowing weather so nice is not to be wasted!

Little Things Mean A Lot

Sometimes tiny little gifts have a way of making a greater impact.

I'm grateful today for God's goodness to me this week. He knew there was a bit of turmoil in my life, and I believe He sent a few small gifts that were just the bright spots my day needed.

Specifically...

-Arriving at this afternoon's tutoring session, I found not just one but two tutorees waiting. My student was accompanied by a classmate who wanted help preparing for tomorrow's test. I was happy to help and certainly happy to collect a few extra bucks!

-In recent weeks, I have taken a liking to the naranjas in Copan. (nah-RAHN-hahs - oranges) After receiving a few from one of my language exchange partners, I wished I knew a good place to buy my own. Would you like to guess what I stumbled across during the walk home from school today? That's right - a lady was selling really good looking oranges!

I asked her, "Tiene naranjas todos los dias?" And she let me know that I can, in fact, find her           selling oranges in that spot every day.

-A random conversation at the cafe left me with personal-life-saving information. Someone with more international experience than I have revealed the secret of the internet VPN (Virtual Private Network). Because of this, I'm now able to access sports coverage that had been blocked since I arrived in Honduras!

Another little gift from God that gives me a lift:

seeing this green, white, and blue mixed with rays of golden sunshine.

Bueno/Menos

My day was good.

Bueno: Tears came out of my face today. The reason — I was laughing just that hard after a story from one of the teenagers!

We had finished covering the day’s material, so I followed one of my weird impulses and started a game of “tell the class an embarrassing story from your life.” I went first and told not just one but TWO of my best stories. Then everyone else had to take a turn.

As an educator - whether working with kids, teens, or college students - I am always glad when there’s some sort of opportunity that allows the teacher/student wall to come down in an appropriate way. I think it’s good for us to see each other as nothing more than fellow humans from time to time.

Some of the other foreign teachers, sporting their school shirts:

Today, I had a few good laughs with my students, but the ladies pictured above are some of the adults I count on for much-needed comedy on a regularly basis.

Menos: Both of this week’s tutoring sessions were canceled, so I’ll be heading into the weekend with a little less cash than I had planned.

Tutoring only pays a few bucks for an hour, but that money can really come in handy! If my funds run out before Monday, people in Copan might hear me say, "Hoy no tengo pisto!"
(I have no money today!)

No Cheating!

I looked out the door of my classroom to learn that one of the other teachers really did not trust that his students would complete their test without sharing answers.

"Welcome to the event -- can you be in charge of it?"

My friends, the word for today is "adaptability".

Of course it's true that anyone who moves to a foreign country needs to be adaptable. And by God's grace, adaptability is one of my strengths.

When I arrived at school this morning for the school-wide Spelling Bee, adaptability came in handy as the coordinator asked me to sit on the panel of judges!

The last time I attended a Spelling Bee, I was a 7th grader. The picture above was taken moments before this week's Spelling Bee at the bilingual school, moments after I found out I would be judging it.
Obviously, the surprise of it all was not enough to prevent me from having a quick daydream.

This year's winner was a 5th grade student, but the real winner was me. I cannot even tell you how it delighted my soul every time I heard the letter "w" pronounced in the accent of a Honduran elementary schooler!

Surviving Honduras

I think spending a year here in Honduras is quite a blessing. I also think it can be hard at times. Though I don't choose to dwell on all the uncomfortable or nearly impossible parts, they do exist. But one thing helping me get through the year is this:

Georgia Bulldogs football and Crimson Tide football simply thrill my soul!

Bueno/Menos

I have tried not to complain too much about the rainy days we've seen in recent weeks, but I have no problem at all with the perfect fall-like weather that arrived days ago!

Fall is my favorite, but I feel like it hasn't been itself in the south for a couple decades.

For this reason, I am happy to say the past week has transported me right back to the wonder of my childhood autumns.

My day was good.

Bueno: I survived a rollercoaster of progress and setbacks and finally will be able to move to the apartment I was hoping for! The truth is, I tried to be a trooper and stuck it out as long as I could in my current place, but I have realized the wise thing to do is move out and get rid of the stress this whole situation brought to my life.

Menos: My trusty Droid cell phone - currently serving as nothing more than my alarm clock in Honduras - did a number on me today. Sure, it woke me up for work at 4:45am like normal. But it also "fell back" one hour automatically due to Daylight Savings Time coming to an end in the states.

I was on my way out the door before I caught what had happened. I've never been so thankful for the school's weekly Monday morning assembly! If not for that custom, who knows what my first period students would have decided to do for the first 25 minutes of the school day.

Five-Day Weekend

We're in the middle of a 5-DAY WEEKEND, thanks to three vacation days the Honduran government decided on.

Almost every foreign teacher from my school left Copan on Wednesday for a bit of travel. Some went to Guatemala and others to El Salvador, but I ended up choosing to stick around town.

Luckily, this week's weather is fall-like and perfect. It's the first time we've had weather like this since I moved to town in July. Fall is my favorite season, and somehow it transports me back to the days of my childhood. I have felt like a kid again this week!

Cafe Welchez:

A good portion of my school holiday so far has been spent here writing music, practicing Spanish, daydreaming, and talking to the wonderful baristas who befriended me back in July before the other foreign teachers arrived.

Ambivalencia

View from the capitol in Nashville:

Apparently, this is a very old (and possibly famous) picture that someone recently decided to colorize and post online. I am unaware of the identity of the original photographer and the year the photo was taken.

Found on twentytwowords.com.

Truths:

1. I have been in love with Nashville, TN for six years.
2. Three months in Honduras, and already I don't want to live back in the states.
3. CANNOT WAIT to return to some of America's conveniences and amenities and resume life there, leaving behind the developing country lifestyle.

Ambivalence (in Spanish - "ambivalencia"):
the phenomenon of having simultaneous and conflicting feelings.

That's where I live these days!

What Is There To Eat Here?

I am very aware that there hasn't been a post about the food in Copan. Forgive me!

Food is near to my heart, so I'm sure there will be plenty to say about the meals, snacks, and desserts I find here this year. But for now, how about just a quick tutorial on what you can expect to eat when you come to visit.

Three main dishes, here we go.

ONE: In Copan, you will quickly learn the word "tipico" (Pronounced "tee-pee-koh". It means "typical"). Here, tipico is the name for a plate of this area's culinary staples - things people eat every single day for one or more meals.

Sidenote: Now the thought of eating the same thing in this fashion was hard for me to grasp at first, but eventually I just compared it to the way kids in the states, for example, might eat cold breakfast cereal every day, love it, never get sick of it, and never imagine doing anything else.

When it comes to tipico, what usually is involved is beans (which are often pureed), eggs cooked to order, butter, cheese, and warm corn tortillas. Looks something like this:

Tipico is what people prepare for themselves at home regularly, and plenty of restaurants feature it on the menu under that name.

Bonus information: other meals that may also appear on any given day - chicken soup, or rice and fried chicken (and in this rural setting, the chicken is super fresh, if you know what I mean).

TWO: Another popular dish in Copan is baleadas (pronounced "bahl-YAH-dahs").

Flour tortilla with sour cream, beans (which are often pureed), cheese, and sometimes additional ingredients such as eggs and avocado. 

The picture above is just a Google image that shows the egg and avocado additions I look for in a baleada. But in Copan, the tortilla is much larger and is heated to perfection on a skillet or griddle with the toppings inside; I never see baleadas here with a small, cold tortilla like in the picture. The average baleada looks more like this:

I'm not the only person in town who likes avocado and egg in my baleadas, but those ingredients aren't included in the majority of baleadas I see people eating.

THREE: Folks here eat baleadas like they're going out of style, but what I eat instead (and as often) is empanadas! (Pronounced "em-pah-NAH-dahs")

Fried, cheesy, gooey, goodness inside a corn tortilla! Goes great with a scrambled egg placed right on top.

Sometimes in town, you can hear the hand-clapping sound of one or more ladies forming the corn tortillas during the process of making fresh empanadas. Whenever I hear those claps, I get an urge to give applause of my own!

Bueno/Menos

All that grammar stuff you hated back in school -- I absolutely loved it!

Now, I teach four sections of 8th and 9th grade English and two sections of 8th grade Literature.

My day was good.

Bueno: The Literature classes had a brief unit on poetry this week. I never expected this, but the kids are really into poetry. And I most DEFINITELY didn't expect them to request a day to write their own original poems in class.

To top it all off, when I read the poems they came up with, I couldn't believe some of the creativity! As writers, these kids are making moves that had me wondering if they're really in eighth grade.

Menos: When I asked for my lunch tab total at school today, the figure was higher than I thought. It hurt!

Saturday Never Felt Better

My feet are on cobblestone streets in Copan,

my heart on the beach in Brazil.

Mellow early Saturday.
Heading down to meet my Spanish conversation partner,
Tom Jobim's breezy bossa nova in my earbuds.

You And Denzel Washington

There's something you have in common with Denzel Washington:

you and Denzel are the final two things that will occupy this Saturday evening for me.

In about ten minutes, I'll cue up the film "Man on Fire" and watch Denzel's character being awesome in Mexico while trying to start a life there.

Between now and then, I'll write a few lines for you about recent happenings in Honduras.

Team stretch.

Andrew, the athletic director/head track & field coach, helping the team get focused at the stadium minutes before the start of the national meet last Thursday.
Don't worry - Andrew didn't choose that green polo...the Association of Bilingual High Schools made him wear it for the event.

So far in Copan, most of my time has been spent teaching 8th and 9th graders at the bilingual school and coaching athletes for the very short track season here. Getting my bearings with the school job and staying after school to coach took priority over my plans for working on Spanish. But all along, I knew the delay wouldn't last more than a couple months.

Overall, I am pleased with the experience I've had teaching and coaching. The students are pretty great.

Even though I'm only three months in, some people have asked if I will return for a second year when August rolls around.

Quien puede ver el futuro? "Who can see the future?" This is the response that comes to mind when I'm asked about next year.

Honestly, there is a growing list of reasons I think it would be wonderful to live here a second year. There is also a list of reasons why continuing to live here would be difficult or undesirable.

What seems clear to me is that no matter how I feel now, there's always a chance I'll have a different opinion in the spring when it's time to talk to the school about my plans for 2015-2016. So, rather than predicting the future or worrying about a decision that's not to be made for months, I just take a deep breath and aim to stay focused on the goals I have for the current year.

Immediate goal: say goodnight to you and hello to D. Washington!

The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

The hands-down hardest thing I've ever done is TRYING TO MASTER THIS FOREIGN LANGUAGE!!!

Man alive! This undertaking is no joke.

I know in my heart that I will get there someday; there isn't a doubt in my mind. What's unfortunate is that this knowledge does nothing to prevent the days of now and then feeling overwhelmed by how vast the language is and how slow progress feels.

Academia de Espanol Guacamaya.

Guacamaya is the language school I enrolled in during the summer when I decided to move to town three weeks early for some focused Spanish study. My teacher became a friend, and now we still meet on weekends for a language exchange - one hour of Spanish practice for me, followed by an hour of English practice for her.

There's a phrase I can hear echoing in my head from the July morning when I was feeling discouraged during my Spanish lesson. "Poco a poco," said my teacher. She was telling me that the language is acquired "little by little." And she was right. Progress is the goal every day - not instant perfection.

And the words I added to the teacher's sentiment during that conversation: "Paciencia y fe!" I know patience and faith will be of use to me on the journey of progressing a little at a time.

Bueno/Menos

 Dark, scary skies are so beautiful to me!

My day was good.

Bueno: The latest software update for my laptop was apparently all I needed to solve two pesky problems I've had since settling in Honduras.

Problem #1 was that FaceTime calls wouldn't connect at all. Living a thousand miles from everyone I love made this problem hard to ignore. It's true I am meeting some wonderful locals in my new town, but there is no substitute for access to free technology that enables you to see and speak with the friends who have known you since junior high school.

Problem #2 was that Spotify was refusing to grant access to the free account where I keep my treasure chest of music playlists. Something about international access being barred except in the case of users who pay for a "Premium" account.

But now that I finally allowed the software update run on my computer, FaceTime and Spotify work like a charm!

And by the way, the album your ears need to meet now on Spotify is this one:
John Smith – Great Lakes

Menos: Esta lloviendo! (It's raining!)
No software update could put an end to the weather we're having during the rainy season here. Actually, rain wouldn't be such a bummer if it happened more often during the workday and less on weekends. But we're one month into the academic year, and I don't remember a day when there was rainfall during school.

Another bummer for today was the spottiness of the video stream I was depending on for viewing the Georgia game this morning. If you didn't know, University of Georgia football is one of the great loves of my life!

Walls

"Sometimes we put up walls...

Not to keep people out but to see who cares enough to knock them down."

I found those words, as well as some scribbled designs and drawings, written on the back of a quiz handed in by one of my students the other day. I had told the class they could draw on the back of the quiz if they finished early, but when I saw the message this girl wrote, I was surprised.

I teach teenagers (not small kids), but the statement about "walls" was profound in a way I didn't expect. And what made it even more interesting was the fact that the girl who wrote it is someone I can picture the statement applying to perfectly.

This view from the roof of my apartment brings to mind another context that involves walls.

Living in cities and suburbs as an adult has helped me realize something about my relationship with wide open skies and other spaces in nature. Something in me seems to need those skies and spaces. And the further or longer I am away from them, the more city buildings and concrete feel like walls keeping me out.

Being A Champion Never Gets Old!

As a teenager, I was a thrower on my school's track team for a few years. A great experience for sure.

During the Skype interview for my teaching job here in Copan, the interviewer asked if I ever participated in school athletics as a student. When he found out I used to be a thrower, he told me the school's track team competes in the throwing events. He said it in a way that made me suspect I might be roped into helping out with coaching.

When track season began here last month, that is exactly what happened. And I want you to know that coaching young throwers has been pretty fantastic.

October 2013 - athletes from our school standing on the medalist podium at last year's national meet.
FYI: the Spanish word for winner is "ganador."

Track season is really short, and the big meet is approaching fast - next Thursday, in fact. For me, the anticipation has begun to make me wish I could step into the discus circle next week and compete!

Then today, when we started practice, my excitement reached a whole new level. I think the kids could tell.

I said to the throwers, “Okay, here we go. It’s almost time for the meet, and I’m excited. I feel like I did when I was where you are. And the team I was on - we were the best. We won the big meet. All we could do back then was be our best, and that ended up being enough to make us the best team. And that’s just what I want to see from you - be your best. That’s all anybody can do."

Now what's funny to me is I hadn't even planned to say any of that!

More photos from the national meet last year:

Here's Katia, and above is Victor - two throwers who are forced to receive a triple dose of me every day

for English class, Literature class, and then track & field!

The other week, one of the team captains read a famous quote at the end of practice. I knew I had heard it before, but this time, I seemed to FEEL it. And I haven’t stopped feeling it for several days now.

Here's the quote, attributed to Muhammad Ali:
“I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion’."

Try Not To Be Jealous

I did something today that you did not do. It's called shopping for groceries in the dark.

Power outages are frequent here, and when I stopped at the corner mini market on my walk home from school, the clerk was cloaked in darkness and holding a flashlight. She's kinda cute too, and she seems to be a person of faith, but I digress.

The phrase people use here to declare or lament a power outage is "No hay luz!"
(sounds like "no eye LOOSE")

Shopping with no lights today was less than wonderful, but I guess it beat the time I was caught in the barber's chair mid haircut when the power went out one evening.

My prize for braving the dark aisles of the market:

I moved to town in July but somehow am just now purchasing my first box of good ol' breakfast cereal.

Not sure I ever heard of lactose free skim milk prior to Honduras, but my digestive system is pretty happy about it.
Copan actually has a product called Ranchitas that is like Doritos but better, but I've only found it in a small snack size bag so far.

Fortunately, electricity was restored about an hour after I made it home from the market.

A Sweet Aroma

I was probably in 12th grade when David Meadows looked at me and said, "Man, I love it when a girl walks by and just smells so good!"

I thought it was funny and unexpected when he made the comment, but my opinion was the same as his.

Some people say being in Copan is like going back in time. I guess it reminds them of another time because of the simple, low-tech, rural life found in this little town in the mountains of a developing country.

Tonight, it's funny to think about one way Copan reminds me of days gone by. Friends in Nashville (Hi, Brandon and Valerie) have heard me mention the fact that when I was growing up, it was as though people felt interested in smelling good. I'm not talking about bathing and wearing deodorant for good hygiene; in the old days, folks would identify some fragrance that actually smelled right on them, and they would wear an appropriate amount of it.

But in recent years, for reasons I don't know, it's as though no one would like to smell good anymore. I must say, that's not the case in Copan Ruinas.

Back home, I seldom notice someone passing by and leaving behind a tasteful amount of a nice fragrance. It happens there occasionally, but I've been struck by how much more common it is here.

If you're ever with me in Copan or in America, there's a way to know when I just caught a whiff of someone whose perfume I admire. I have gotten in the habit of reacting with these words under my breath:
"God, please make my life a living sacrifice that's holy and pleasing to you. Make me a fragrant offering that fills your presence with a sweet aroma."

Beyond This Dream Of Mine

I spent five of the past six years working at a university in Nashville. My boss's boss's boss (Andrew) was an interesting guy and somewhat of a mentor for me there.

In the spring of 2013, shortly after deciding to finally chase the dream of moving abroad, I met with Andrew to tell him what I was planning. I wanted to fill him in because previously he had asked to be kept up to date on plans for life after the university. Another reason I wanted to fill him in was I hoped he would have resources or contacts to recommend. After all, I didn't have a clue how to get a job in a foreign country!

Andrew was pretty surprised to hear what I wanted to do. I guess few people knew about that desire of mine.

But in true Andrew fashion, he reacted to my news with some cool thoughts that I really appreciated. For example, he found it interesting to think about the notion that aside from the language learning goal in my head, the Lord would have goals of his own for my time living in a foreign land. This actually never entered my mind until Andrew mentioned it. Before then, I had been totally focused on Spanish.

After about an hour, I left Andrew's office and returned to my department. No resources or contacts had come to mind for him, but the conversation was great like always.

I saw him again days later when I passed through the area where his secretary's desk is located. I was on my way to a meeting, and when Andrew saw me, he told me to step into his office for a minute. I stopped in front of his desk just as reached down to pick up something from behind it. "I was hoping I would run into you again soon; this is for you," he said, extending a gift bag to me.

"Oh man, thank you so much," I said in total surprise. I opened the bag and found a small box containing a copy of the Holy Bible.

Just then, I was in the middle of explaining to him that I didn't own a copy that size, when I realized the version he was giving me was printed in Spanish.

"It won't be of much use to you now, but eventually..."

I stood there blown away. What a marvelous gift. What a marvelous mind and heart to have the foresight to think of such a gift idea.

Andrew and I both knew I was kidding and serious when I said, "I'd better get to my meeting so my eyes don't start getting wet right now." I thanked him and walked out.

It was probably the most beautiful Bible I had ever seen, and for days, I kept thinking about it and the gesture behind it.

When the time came for me to pack for Honduras, one year had passed. Everything I needed for life had to fit in two suitcases and two carry-ons. With the space and weight constraints of travel, I knew it wouldn't be possible to bring along the reading material I was interested in. So, only three small books made the trip - two books about the craft of writing, and you already know what the third book is!

Bueno/Menos

My day was good.

Bueno: On a whim, I decided to tell the 9th grade English class a story from my days as a 9th grader. It was the story of the first time I asked a girl for a date. You should have seen their little faces through all the suspense and silliness of my storytelling!

Menos: A conversation with someone at work left me mourning the fact that Copan doesn't have a convenient street I can use for the type of running workout I enjoyed back in Nashville this time of year.

Here's Lauren, one of the other foreign teachers, on the road that leads to our school.

Streets in the center of town are paved with cobblestones, just like this one.

Photo credit: Jenny Wright

Bribing Small Children

My landlord has two nephews that are 3 years old - Kevin and Denzel.
(Yes, names that seem quite American were chosen for these little Honduran guys).

The two of them are cousins, but they live near each other and hang out together a lot. About four weeks ago, they walked in while I was visiting the landlord. Happy to see them, I decided to employ a trick kids always love - being spun around in the air. But when I picked up Denzel and went into a slow spin, it was clear right away that he wasn't having a good time.

I lowered him back to the ground, and he wasted no time moving away from me. The family members in the room chuckled and remarked, "Awww....tiene miedo," suggesting that Denzel had been frightened by the ride I tried to give him. They were right.

And from that day, each time I saw him and said hello, he would only make an ugly face and stick out his tongue at me, his pride obviously wounded.

As if that wasn't sad enough, I soon realized that even Kevin was giving me the same treatment! I guess these two cousins stick together.

Kevin and Denzel

(Pronounced with Spanish vowel and consonant sounds - "KEH-veen" and "DEN-cell")

They live right beside me, and after about a week, I decided I couldn't cope with them being at odds with me any longer. So, at the market that week, I made a special purchase: watermelon flavored gummy candy. The time for bribing small children had come.

I actually didn't see either of them for a couple of days after buying the candy, so I placed the bag on my bookshelf. Then one afternoon as I rushed to leave my apartment, there was Denzel, approaching the gate to his house but looking at me. "Denzel!" I said with delight. I was pressed for time but decided to turn the key and go back inside for the bag of candy.

When I returned to my doorstep, I saw that the little buckaroo was still standing by his gate.

My eyes went to the bag I was fumbling with, and I pulled it open as I said, "Denzel, dulces?" I guess he knew the meaning of that word, because before I could blink, he had traveled the distance between my home and his to join me in front of my door.

I motioned for him to make the shape of a cup with his hands and then filled the cup with watermelon-y goodness.

"Donde esta Kevin?" I asked. Denzel turned and scooted away, searching and screaming for him.

You won't be surprised to learn that Denzel was, in fact, able to bring Kevin to me right away. Once Kevin's hands were filled with gummies, I left the scene, feeling triumphant. And since then, the sound of those two boys chirping, "Hola!" as they pass my apartment is like music to my ears.

I Guess It Had To Happen

After my first few days in town, I felt surprised and grateful that I had no health issues! Things were working out for me in the food and drink department - no upset stomach, no diarrhea, no vomiting.

Then came Thursday.

I guess my last experience with sharp stomach pain was long ago, because I had forgotten how awful it is. A little before 6am on Thursday, I knew I was in trouble. I started the day by telling the host family wife not to worry about making breakfast for me.

The yellow fruit up top is mango verde, possibly the thing that caused my illness.

Without thinking, I accepted a piece from another language school student the day before I got sick.
Eating fruit purchased on the street (without washing it yourself) is an at-your-own-risk proposition.

After I explained that I felt ill, she gave me a dose of medicine (as well as toast and honey so that I would eat at least that). I felt better on the way to language school, but things took a turn for the worse before class ended. With the way my stomach felt, I simply agreed when the teacher asked if I wanted to wrap up a bit early.

As always, lunch was waiting for me at home. And to my appreciation, the host family wife had decided to serve chicken soup. I sat down to lunch, and everything that happened for the rest of the day feels kind of like a dream now.

I vaguely remember the host family husband helping himself to a fresh onion for his soup and then turning to offer one to me. "Cebolla?" he asked. "Cama," was my response (it means "bed"). I finished the bowl of soup I had been given and dragged myself to my room to lay down.

There were a couple other brief interactions and events that day but mostly just sleep, a few trips to the bathroom, and a few doses of the miracle drug, Pepto Bismol.

When I walked in the kitchen the next morning, the host family wife asked how I felt. I answered, "Yo estoy un nuevo hombre."

(Translated: I am a new man!)

Bueno/Menos

I took a Creative Writing class back in college. Journaling was one of the assignments, and we had to write a few entries every week.

I didn't have a clue what to journal about.

(Especially since the course instructor would be reading the whole thing.)

Somehow I decided it would be painless enough on any given day to come up with one highlight and one unfortunate event from my life - the "Hi" and the "Lo" of the day. So, at the end of the course, my journal had several pages devoted to a brief entry about just that. It worked out, and I even wound up enjoying that part of the assignment.

Not sure what made me remember that now, but I'll take it as a sign that this blog should include Hi/Lo posts. And in honor of my goal as a language learner, I'll label the posts Bueno/Menos. Here's the first!

Friends: do not take such things for granted.

Bueno: There was a really nice married couple studying at the language school this week. Both from the states, both doctors.

Today was their last day, and guess what they did before they left...
They gave me a gift!

And a valuable gift at that - they handed me their stash of antibiotics for treating any stomach issues Central America might provide. Without a doubt the best leftovers I ever received!


Menos: Speaking of gifts, the other day I stumbled across something that could be suitable as a gift for my teacher on the last day of language school next week.

I had heard (and seen) that you can't find good chocolate in any stores here at all, so I was really glad to run across a stack of five boxes of Ferrero Rocher in a little shop in the center of town.

I knew I needed to sample a piece or two so I wouldn't end up giving a gift that turned out to be melted or stale (many shops in Copan lack air conditioning and other features that are built in to the way businesses in America operate). So I bought a pack, unwrapped and tasted the chocolate, and realized my search for a gift continues.

I Had The Perfect Life

Have you ever fallen in love with a city? That's what happened to me when I was living in Nashville, Tennessee.

The whole time I was there, the feeling never faded. I had the perfect life for six years and then decided to trade it in for something else.

Music City, USA.

To me, interesting photos always have a story in them. I snapped this photo thinking the walkway told the story of the kind of waiting that happens at home when someone is expected to return from a long trip. Later, I realized the walkway itself could be waiting for someone who should leave home and begin a journey that is due...or overdue.

I think it was the winter of 2012 when I made up my mind about moving abroad, but I had daydreamed about it for years. My one goal and motivation was to learn Spanish.

But there's another part to the story.

For years in Nashville, I basically walked around feeling like I had it all. I was blessed with a great city, great friends, great church, great boss -- everything. And somehow, in the middle of feeling totally grateful for such a rich life, a simultaneous and conflicting feeling emerged. My cozy "who-could-ask-for-more?" existence became a luxury I both loved and longed to leave.

Things are so much clearer in hindsight. Looking back, I see that different forces in my life all signaled the same thing: the time was finally right for me to embark on this international experience.

Herman, El Carpintero

Herman, the host family husband, is basically the best carpenter in town. I learned this from my teacher at the language school. Herman's shop is located inside the house.

After breakfast the other day, he showed me some of his handiwork - a few brand new pieces he made to order.

Bed and night stands by Herman

Needless to say, I was impressed. When it comes to Herman's reputation here in Copan, the size of his talent and the size of the town are such that when I jump into a taxi, I tell the driver my destination is "Casa de Herman Villeda, el carpintero."

Not Dreaming Anymore

Ten years is a long time to wait for something you want. Fortunately, there's nothing wrong with having a little patience.

Western highlands of Honduras:
the view from the walk to the school where I'll be working

When I was a high school freshman, I wished I could understand the Spanish language. (If you want to know the story behind that, just ask.) Then, after four years of formal classes, I was amazingly nowhere near my goal.

I remember finishing undergrad and realizing that probably the only way to become fluent in Spanish would be immersion - living in a country where I'd be surrounded by the language for at least a year.

Fast forward to the summer of 2014.
On July 19th, I boarded a plane in Nashville with two suitcases and two carry-ons, flew to Miami to wait there for about 15 hours, and then completed the journey to my new home of Honduras, Central America.

Read on for highlights from the trip.

• My greatest delight was the live string quintet that greeted my ears at the bus station not far from the airport in Honduras. Live strings are one of my favorite things on earth! Not sure why this ensemble was performing in the bus station (while being recorded by some sort of film crew) because once I got off the plane, the Honduran transportation workers who communicated with me didn't offer a single word of English.

• My greatest adventure involved arriving at the bus station in my town at 6pm to find that my contact was nowhere to be found...despite the fact that the bus station would only be open for another half hour. Keep in mind I don't speak the language, and I had nothing more than a first name for the guy who was supposed to pick me up (Alexis) and a first name for the lady whose family I was supposed to be staying with (Celea). This is where small town living saves the day. A cab driver with barely more English than my Spanish proceeded to load up my things and drive to a home where some ladies sat outside chatting. The driver had understood when I explained to him that I was a new teacher at the bilingual school, and he understood that another school employee named Alexis never showed up to meet me at the bus station. So, without leaving the taxi, the driver leaned out the window and spoke with the front porch ladies for a minute. Then, we were off again to another curb and a new group of people spending time outdoors. This time, the cabby spoke with a woman who listened for a while and then looked at me in the back of the taxi. "Teacher?" she smiled. I smiled back, "Yes! Do you speak English?" She answered no but then pointed to a young boy on the sidewalk. This kid turned out to be the solution to my problem (and also one of my future students) as he listened to my story, pulled out his cell phone, and said, "I call Alexis now." Minutes later, Alexis pulled up in a car with his family and explained that he had been given the wrong rendezvous time for picking me up at the bus station. He and his family must've arrived at the station just after my taxi left, a couple minutes prior to 6:30.

• My greatest lesson... well, I'll put it this way: when moving to a faraway land - even if you know you'll have no cell phone service upon arrival, be sure to have phone info ready for your contact in case something goes haywire at the point where you're supposed to be picked up! Holy cow.

After all the excitement, Alexis dropped me off at the host family home that had been arranged for my first few weeks in town. Celea, the host family wife, and her two daughters welcomed, fed, and entertained me. The trip that started the day before in Nashville was finally over, and I was ready to retire to my room. Once alone in there, I learned that the first order of business would be the fight of my life against the largest spider imaginable. He lost.