The Value of One – CPI Efforts

As we begin this project, we look back at other work that CPI has done over the past few years. It is often difficult to quantify the work that has been done and match that to the money spent. Accounting principles have been blurred at times by differing cultures, differing expectations and, sometimes, deliberately. At times, it is discouraging to work through all this and one loses sight of the people that were given hope and opportunity through all of the efforts.

Being able to live in Santa Cruz, I am able to meet, often several times a week, individuals whose lives have been changed by our efforts, ideas and money. Listening to Lydia, a current Board member, describe to a visiting delegation the effects that being able to graduate from Sixth Grade has made in her life and the life of her family. Watching the excitement on Julia’s face, a widowed mother of five, as she talked about the chance to learn more and take Grade Seven. Meeting a young man who was able to finish Grade Six because of a scholarship and is now finding ways to work and pay for further schooling. To hear stories from the ladies who operate the little Botequines (medicine boxes) tell of patients they have treated – with scant resources and scantier knowledge – in villages where no medical treatment is available opens exciting vistas of ideas and opportunities.

The bottom line in every project is, “What is the value of one?” How do we put a dollar value on intangibles like learning, hope, medical treatment, new agricultural methods? Of course, the answer is, “We don’t.” In the end, we look at our efforts and ask ourselves only one question, “Did we try?” If the answer is “Yes”, we have been successful. Without doubt, we will also ask ourselves how we can try better or be more effective. But that is something that stems from the basic first question.

A couple of tidbits from the last few days. Saturday night I enjoyed a small bowl of pig skin soup. The pig skin is deep fried and, in the process, puffs up and gains the texture something like a cheesy. These pieces are then put in a soup with spices, peppers and tomatoes (and x kinds of vegetables). As with every type of soup I have tried here, it is delicious.

In search of Christmas presents (for January Christmas in Canada), I took a Rapidito trip to La Guama, up the road about fifteen kilometres. I had seen a tourist type place along the highway so knew it was on the La Guama route. As we went, I paid the fare of 18 L. The tourist place was some kilometres before La Guama but I thought nothing of it as I climbed out of the Rapidito. Well, after shopping and purchasing a couple items, I walked back to the highway and sat on the wooden slab bench and waited for a return Rapidito. One went by, rather full, without stopping and I resigned myself to waiting an hour. Fortunately, within another fifteen minutes, the same Rapidito I was first on stopped for me. As I went to pay for my fare, the driver turned to the turnboy and told him to discount the price to match what I had overpaid on the outward trip. What a pleasant surprise. It was so nice to be shown that respect and courtesy.

Sunday morning saw me in the office waiting for a repairman to come and fix the tiles in our kitchen area and some other odds and ends we had informed the landlady about. Not too surprisingly, he showed up two hours late and then only to drop a couple of things off and that was it. Sigh. I had stopped doing office work and was busy watching a Harrison Ford movie dubbed in Spanish. The printed parts were redone in, I think, Greek lettering but the words were in Spanish. When you pay $2.00 for a DVD that has all four Indiana Jones movies on it you need to be prepared for the odd difference.

At about 12.30, there was a knock on the door and in walked my friend Mariano and his friend, Pablo. They had come to take me to lunch. What a nice surprise. We headed to a restaurant that is on the second floor of a building. The walls are open and you are high enough to see the trees and greenery and enjoy the breeze. Colourful Japanese lanterns, four jolly plastic Santas and several old 78 rpm records are part of the decoration. We ordered Chorizzo, a spicy sausage, served with salsa, cheese and chips. The owner of the restaurant spoke some English so whenever we hit an impasse in our conversation, we had him help out with a phrase or sentence. We must have managed okay because Manuel told me yesterday that he met Pablo on his way to the office and Pablo had said we had a great time. Manuel, who really knows how little Spanish I know, was amazed.

Yesterday I spent almost an hour walking through town trying to find a plug for my bathroom sink. A number of places had drain units for sale but no one had only a plug. Even went to the large department type store on the edge of town. Found that store accidently on Saturday as I was searching for prices of rebar and metal tubing. I was so amazed to find such a big place here in Santa Cruz. I have seen plugs for sale (when I wasn’t looking for one of course) but, I fear that they were on some table in front of a kiosk somewhere in downtown San Pedro Sula. I will use the technique of not looking for it and then I shall be sure to find it.

The nativity scene at church is incredible. It is about 3 metres X 4 metres with walls of bamboo and thatched roof. The floor is covered with sand and stones and there are thirty or forty houses with over a hundred figurines of people, animals and different tools of daily life. On one side is a little jungle area with jungle animals including (as it must have, surely, on that night in Bethlehem) dinosaurs and tigers. All this is set off with blinking and winking strings of colourful Christmas lights. The cradle is covered until Christmas Eve. I wonder how long the scene stays up. Because of the scene, the music group has had to switch to the other side of the church which leaves things rather crowded but … the more the merrier, right?

We have a night watchman now that the computers are set up. His only job is to sleep inside the house. He likes to come at about 8:00 because he is worried about walking around the town after that hour. I hear stories of problems but haven’t figured out what streets they are on. Of course, I won’t go looking either. The street I use to come home on is always full of families, children and vehicles as well as several pulperias and a church so I am not worried about that route. Evidently other routes are not as welcoming.

Have to run.

Bryan