So ... Was He Paid or Not?

First of all, the game. Sigh. España lost by a goal. Or, as I would say, they were robbed by a referee that made some most unfortunate calls. So very unfortunate were those calls that it was suspiciously suggestive that some extra money may have somehow been passed along at some points. Of course, this being Honduras, that is always the first question that comes to mind in situations like this. Needless to say, the Marathon fans around me were of a different opinion. The evening was great. At the next table were Olimpia fans. One of them was the local magistrate whose office is at City Hall. When Olimpia got the go ahead goal in their game, he was so excited that he whipped off his shirt and waved it exuberantly around his head. It will be a wee bit hard to think of him in sombre judge-like terms after that.

The current political situation in Honduras has some interesting fall out. Judges and lawyers are at a much greater risk now and a number of them have been killed. We were at our lawyer’s office on Wednesday and he was scheduled to attend the funeral of one of his fellow lawyers in the afternoon. As we sat and talked he got a phone call that the funeral had been moved up to the morning so he was unable to attend. As a consequence, he had time to take us to lunch. He suggested the Gran Sula which is located four short blocks from his office, three of which are through the central city square. As we left the building, he and his partner had a long discussion about whether it was safe enough for them to walk that four blocks.

This was a sobering reminder of how many Hondurans, regardless of class, live in fear. Manuel, my director, is always very nervous about travelling with money for salaries, etc. because of the potential for robbery on the bus, as he walks home and so forth. A fellow here in town was taken from a pool hall and killed because, it is reported, he had about $1,000.00 in cash.

Less sobering was the lunch we had. This hotel puts on a typical Honduran food luncheon buffet each Wednesday. It was Honduran food at its very best. The appetizer was a bean and fried pig skin soup. Don’t turn up your nose. It was delicious. The second round of appetizers featured guacamole sauce, small tortillas with spicy topping and some other, not-so-typical salads. The entre had fried plantains with thick cream (the sugar in the plantains caramelizes during the frying so is rather delicious – zero calories when with friends), tomalitos, made from the center of milk corn, with heavy cream, rice and meat from a whole, roasted pig (small but done perfectly) stuffed with rice and hamburger. Dessert was, for me, a white cake soaked in cream and milk topped with whipped cream (tres leches – three milks). Along with all this was fresh baked coconut bread and fresh fruit juices. Not a meal for the faint of heart or a true friend of the arteries but, nevertheless, wonderfully delicious. Needless to say supper was not to be thought of.

Yesterday I was out in Tepiquilares at the housing project. We were with the municipal land survey people to walk the boundaries of the land and then set up a map which will divide the land into twenty-two parts. Each of the families will, by lottery, get to choose two plots so that they will, hopefully, all have access to good land and some of the more rocky land. The maps were not completely accurate and there was some confusion as to the real boundaries. Some of this may have been an attempt by an outside party to carve off a piece for himself but ... it may have been genuine confusion. Hmmm. In the end, it was settled and all the land confirmed. The next maps will be more accurate we hope.


As we measured the land, we passed the current home of one of the project recipients. He and his family of two children currently live in a hovel that consists of three walls made of poles planted in the earth and a fourth wall made of plastic. The whole thing measure about ten square metres or less. All their possessions and night time living is confined to that area. I have no idea how it must be when it is cold and raining cats and dogs. Their new home of concrete blocks and a staggering 500 square feet will be truly phenomenal.

As we were walking the land, Chepe, our board chair, received a phone call. He has been helping a man with work. This man had a drinking problem and, during the night, gotten into a bottle of locally made moonshine of sorts which proved to be toxic. He was rushed to the local clinic but by the time Chepe got there (via walking, bus, three-wheel taxi, boat, bus and so forth), the man had passed away. Now he is faced with the logistics of carrying the man’s body home to his family, arranging a funeral and so forth.

On a brighter note, this afternoon I go to a wedding for Carolina, one of the girls who have been working with us and who is taking Grade Nine in our program. The wedding invitation was flowery and glittery and came complete with a small, plastic bridal couple which can add to the decor of my sparse apartment. The wedding starts at 5 p.m. so festivities will go on till after midnight I am told. Not sure how I will get home. This may be an interesting adventure.

TTYL
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