Where is Waldo

My son and I spent many hours going through the “Where is Waldo” books when he was little. There are many times, here in Honduras, that I feel a lot like Waldo – part of the crowd, part of the action, but ... really, in another way, rather oblivious to all that is happening and looking just a tiny bit out of place to anyone looking on from a Google earth perspective.

The last couple of days have been fraught with Waldo wanderings. Sunday was a big event day for the local parish. A music group from El Salvador was slated to perform in the soccer stadium and preparation involved much meeting and planning. Planning not being an ordinary occurrence, the emphasis was on longer meetings.

The music group was busy practising some songs to open the show with. I showed up for each practice within an hour of the starting time and did a fair bit or origami while wondering just what was being prepared. It looked like some songs were settled on and learning the chords and tunes was well underway when the priest showed up and a long discussion ensued. Missed a lot of that but got the impression that new songs were on their way. It being Lent, one is never sure what will fit in with prayer and fasting and what will fit in with special event and Latino crowd-having-a-good-time needs. In the end, I got the distinct impression that we went with some old numbers from a previous concert (of course, songs in Spanish – like songs from the sixties for a boy growing up in a Bible Belt stronghold – are always new and an interesting adventure for me).

Waldo 2. I met the leader of the music group Thursday night and she reminded me that we were to sing at a service on Friday. She was reminding ... I was understanding for the first time. Friday was the feast of St. Joseph and, as such, Father’s Day here in Honduras. The evening service was held in a small, adobe covered building that held about fifty people comfortably. Of course, there were quite a few more there for the service. Half of the music group stood outside one of the windows and sang into the room. Seeing as we had the dubious benefit of two huge speakers, the efforts of the second stringers without mikes was likely unnoticed. Being outside allowed me a quick break to go check out a snake that had been killed by the children whose parents were at the service.

After the service there was another planning meeting. A long discussion occurred which, in the end, became rather heated. Obviously some confusion about when the volunteers were to set things up. The priest thought that working many hours in the night was preferable to working a few hours Sunday morning. He was obviously wanting to have the music on Sunday morning and the work done at the same time. The workers thought differently. Sigh. Finally, that part was ended and, I thought, we were headed home. For some reason, I tend to be a bit anxious walking around after ten thirty at night. Suddenly, the group started arranging the chairs in a circle and in walked two of the group with a small Father’s Day creation for each of the fathers in the group. It was a lovely gesture and I was very surprised and touched. Surprisingly, all the fathers in the group were included ... even the one whose child was born out of wedlock. That impressed me.

Waldo 3. The concert was to begin at four. I was quite pleased with that because I figured it would mean an early evening ... watch some soccer perhaps? Well, of course, the concert did not get underway until close to five. The music stopped at 7.30 and preparations began for a mass. The mass finished, preparations began for another event. Obviously many had come prepared for a long evening as quilts, jackets and blankets appeared for the children to go to sleep. Only Waldo had no idea of what was happening. The final part of the evening was spent in adoration. It is very moving to be part of a group of people who are so very seriously making an effort to understand and develop their faith. Of course, different religious persuasions have different approaches to that but, in the end, there is often very common ground. When you have a group of people earnestly waiting for the Presence of the Invisible it is a powerful experience. There were several thousand people and many of them were extremely moved emotionally. I was grateful for the chance to be there.

At 11.15, one family in the group started to head home so I tagged along. Things were winding down and I heard some of the final applause as we left the stadium. Very fortunately, it waited to start raining until we were almost home.

This morning we opened a satellite centre in El Ciprés. A project there has set up five computers for students to use. Ten to fifteen students will have access to these computers and the first five began this morning. This means several new students and spaces for several more here in the centre. At a meeting on Friday I found out that our school is now about 20% of the total students in the Educatodos program in the Santa Cruz region. That tells you we are growing but it also tells you how absolutely enormous the challenge is. When less than 500 students in a “province” are attending Grades 7-9 it gives you an indication of how few people have the chance to access education.

TTYL

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