Old Construction Skills Never Die

Last night, just as it was getting dark - early these days - 5.30 ish - our night watchman and neighbour, Jerson came to the door. He wondered if I could help his family with my truck to haul sand. Earlier in the day, his cousin, who is a vegetable vendor, was shot and killed at his home. They needed the sand to pour a slab over the grave.

People are, generally, buried within twenty-four hours here in Honduras. So, when there is a death, many things have to be done and done quickly. They do not have the luxury of being able to wait a few days and decide what is best and what is affordable. Having just gone through this in a small way with the death of my mother, I am well aware of all the things that need to be done and how overwhelming it can be. What it is like for a family who has just lost their husband, father and income through an act of unexpected violence ... I have no idea.

We drove to where the sand was being kept. Another member of the family was obviously stockpiling some sand to do some building. The pile of sand was inside a shack surrounded by piles of used clothing, some junk and a chicken roost. Shovels were found, a wheelbarrow and a couple of buckets.

The idea of using the wheelbarrow was abandoned as it took too long to shovel in and shovel out. As well, the boys doing the shovelling were not much bigger than the shovels. I helped Jerson look for two planks and we set them up on the tailgate. Good news ... The wheelbarrow was back in the equation. Bad news ... I was the only one with pushing a wheelbarrow up a plank experience.  Good news ... I still was able to do it ... even in the dark. Bad news ... The planks were wet and my ankles are not what they used to be. Good news ... No foreman wanting me to run up the plank.

We loaded the truck and headed to the cemetery where the sand was quickly offloaded. Still had time to buy some supper vegetables just before the market closed.

 

This morning we printed some photos of a young girl and her baby ... a victim of rape or (we are more sure of) abuse by a member of the family. She brought the baby to show us last week and we are making a few nice photos up for her. I have no idea how she is handling all of the stress of abuse, motherhood and trying to grow up at the same time. The good news is that she considers our school a safe place and can come here to get some positive moments in her life. As well, our school is unusual in that we have no restrictions about her continuing to study. She will finish Grade 9 next month.

The winter rains have started so mornings are damp and drizzly. But, later in the day it begins to warm up.

TTYL

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