...for another year

I'm becoming more confident I'll be able to make the decision to return here next year. This semester has started quite well, and I've come to truly appreciate the community down here. The people are awesome. I still don't necessarily love the natives, and I think that's always going to be a struggle for me. I still have plenty of frustrations with the school, but so do a lot of other people, and it's a source of solidarity. Considering my options for next year, I could stay here, where I will have a large number of fellow returning teachers, a fairly intentional community, and a year of the position already under my belt, or I could try to find a job somewhere that isn't West Michigan (I'm just thinking realistically), where I have little to no connection to other people, and be going through a first year of a course again. Many of my colleagues down here need to consider paying off student loans and whatnot, which impacts their decisions; fortunately, I have no monetary considerations hanging over my head back in the States, and moving back would in fact probably make me feel less secure financially. At any rate, West Michigan is really the only place I think would suit me more given my situation than Honduras, and W. MI just doesn't seem plausible right now. I'll keep eyes peeled for other job opportunities, but things really seem to be aligning back in the Honduras direction.

That's certainly something I'd never have expected as of last November. God is wild.

I'm enjoying teaching To Kill a Mockingbird more than anything else so far, and it helps that my students have been most responsive to it, as well. I have still been struggling with procrastination, unable to spur myself to getting ahead. I need to, as my parents are coming down in three weeks, and at that point, I will be beginning a new book and will have to have sub plans ready and all of that so that I can enjoy the time with Dad and Carol.

I've been getting to know my students more. I rode home from a soccer game with one student and her dad, and had a good conversation. Some students come in before, during, or after school to talk. We've been sharing various things in class because of journal entries relating the book to their own lives. I'm very glad that this is the case; it shows me that my students are willing to let me participate in their lives, and that amount of trust is a real gift.

However, I'm suddenly faced with the sometimes awkward position of too much trust. One of my students just today came in to talk, among other things, about her problems with drinking over the last few months. She had gotten quite out of control with it, and realized she still was feeling unfulfilled, so she's fortunately realized drinking is not the way to go. On Monday, in a not-so-small-group discussion during chapel, several students in my group asked me about my opinions on premarital sex and its sinfulness - not asking hypothetically, mind you, but because I'm confident 60 percent of my 11th graders have had it. I'm realizing just how more...debauched, for lack of a better word - these students' lives are than mine ever has been, and I'm struggling with the idea of being a role model, when I haven't, in my six extra years of life, had to deal with hardly anything they deal with. You'd think having been upstanding throughout basically all of my life would equip me well to deal with these questions, but it really hasn't.

Not to mention, despite their increasing trust in sharing things with me, the majority of my students pay me very little mind in or out of class. Being talked to outside of class is a humorous interaction. A conversation about a low grade is as effective as talking to air - if you fail the year, you just take the recuperation exam during the summer and you're all set. A class discussion about improper use of the word "gay" is entirely undermined at the end by the student who says, "But Mr., in the culture down here, it's not bad," which is utter bullshit (it is bad, it's just as derogatory a term and just as misused as in the States) and just a sign of general unwillingness to ever consider change - the biggest frustration I have with Honduras. Any suggested shortcoming in life down here is just pegged as "cultural" and thus irreversible. After all, who is an outsider like me to claim that something is wrong with a culture I'm not even a part of?

And even despite these frustrations, the frequent feelings of my own futility, for some reason it seems I'll come back. I don't exactly understand it myself.

...and finally dealing with water problems

All year, we three guys in Casa Blanca sort of half-smirked as we heard of problem after problem in other houses throughout the first half of the year.

Let me make it clear: Casa Blanca is a sweet house. Centralized location in relation to everybody else, good size, large kitchen, and apart from a toilet that consistently leaks into the bowl, fully functioning everything. Sure, we aren't the biggest of houses, but then, we only have three people. We are the closest house to the grocery store, second closest to local dining favorite Tacos y Mas, quickest access to the taxi stops.

Other houses have termites or ants (or cats fighting on their roof, or people running across their roof at night(?)), are just ridiculously far from everything but school, which we hardly have to walk to anyway, have had issues with their water tanks malfunctioning and leaving them only with water on the three or four days a week that city water is available, or any combination thereof. We Casa Blancans simply lived our lives of convenience, never worrying about water for showers or laundry, never sweeping termite dust off the floor, really only having to be aware of our lifestyle on the day when the cleaning lady comes. Sure, our TV conked out a few months back, but when it came to essentials, life was easy.

But no more. Two of the three days so far this week, we've found ourselves without water. Apparently our water tank is now malfunctioning as well, and I am at school unshowered. It's gross. Hopefully someone from the school will be around soon to check it out.

At least yesterday we had a brand-new TV waiting for us when we got home from school! Now I don't have to worry about the possibility of missing LOST when it starts up again on ABC Feb. 2, 8/7 Central. Boy, my LOST obsession is going to take up a bunch of my time.

On a slightly unrelated note, on Monday I inadvertently spilled a small amount of coffee on my computer keyboard. I immediately turned the computer upside down, let it drain, dabbed it up, and then one of the school tech guys brought up a vacuum cleaner and sucked (hopefully) any remaining coffee up and out of the computer. It's been working ever since and through the whole ordeal, so I think I'm in good shape, praise the Lord. I don't know what I'd do if I lost this computer.

...where everything is meaningless

The only reason I put that as my title is because of Ecclesiastes. I actually mean nothing by it.

"Then I realized that it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him - for this is his lot. Moreover, when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work - this is a gift of God. He seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart."

-Ecclesiastes 5:18-20

...so I ought to make use of my time down here

I've been in the country fro just over six days now, and the days have been fairly packed. I've managed to fit in a lot of "extracurriculars," as it were. I've watched a few movies, played a good number of games (including Settlers of Catan last night and Ultimate Frisbee this afternoon), eating out at a wide variety of restaurants and with a good number of people, and I've actually been quite active, exercising at least 5 times. I completed grading my exams, and although I have a lot of journals to get through this evening, then plan my lessons for the week. I'm doing my best to simply enjoy life down here however I can, and I really do enjoy many of the things I have been doing.

It's clear to me that school should not run my life, and I haven't really ever let it run my life while I've been down here - I'm no workaholic by a long shot - but last semester I didn't really do a ton constructive when I was avoiding my work. I don't expect to do much more work this semester each week, though an improvement in keeping on top of things would be a much-needed improvement all-around, yet in the time I'm not doing work I want to live a better life, be more myself and do things worth doing rather than spend hours a day on the internet. I won't let guilt for not doing my work keep me from doing things outside of the house. I still need to crack down while I'm at the house - even more so, because I hope to spend less time at the house in general. This will be mentally healthier for me, no doubt, and I'm also working on being physically healthier as well, hence 5 physically active periods in 6 days. I just gotta keep this up. It allows me to stay optimistic.

I made a list of lifestyle changes and improvements I want to maintain. I won't list them all, but exercise figures largely into it, as does communicating with home (hence this blog post, actually), and even something like cooking at least one big, good meal that moves out of the realm of rice and beans or pasta per week. I guess they resemble new year's resolutions, but my impetus for them wasn't the new year as much as the fact that I'm starting an even longer stay in Honduras than my last one, and I don't want a longer time to send me even further in the dumps than last time.

I'm keeping the option of a second year down here open. I would really like to be able to be in a place where I can complete my commitment, though I have no qualms about breaking the commitment if I think I'd be healthier back home. Frankly, though, the job market looks no more promising this year than last year, and plenty of people I'm actually growing to love will certainly be down here. I do know that having a community around me is something that will help me thrive, and I'll have one ready-made in Honduras next year while no school in the States I know of yet could promise me that from where I'm standing now.

Anyway, I'm trying to live a better life and while many of the things that got me down in the past months are still around, I'm just going to try to counteract them and not let them figure so much into my life as a whole. So there. Now I have to tackle one of those things - grading journals.

"I was seek but, the doctor give me a medicine."

Catching up on my exam grading. This was a sample sentence to practice comma rules (namely, two independent clauses joined by a coordinating conjunction). She presented several other ways to go wrong, however.

...once again, and this time for longer

I have returned to Honduras. I suppose that is what some may call a triumph in itself, but it might be more a lack of making any decision than anything. I hardly thought about my job at IST at all while in West Michigan. I have no problem with that - it means I'm enjoying unadulterated time in the area I'd grown to long for so much over the past 4 months - but I've mostly been avoiding a lot of things about my job, including whether it's where I should be, for too long, and this has led to many of my problems. Anyway, I'm here, so that's that.

School starts on Thursday, and I have a LOT to do in the time between. I shan't bore you with specific details, but plenty of wrapping up from last quarter as well as all of my preparation for the coming quarter. I don't even know what classes I'll be having on Thursday, though, since the revamped math curriculum is bound to throw everything out of whack, and while it shouldn't bother or change the way I operate, for some reason it does. I wish the school were quicker on informing us of major changes, like schedule changes, and it's this aspect of the school, I think, that makes me tend to not give my all. I think I tend to live up to the standard I see in my environment, and since I don't see IST living up to a high standard, I'm able to live with my own failure to produce. (This is one factor among MANY for my problems down here).

I arrived safely and with little hassle - from home to "home" it was a voyage of just under 26 hours:
Hour 0 (12:00pm EST, Sunday): leave my folks' house in Hamilton, saying good-bye to my brother, sis-in-law, and adorable nephew. Dad and Carol are riding along.
Hour .75: arrive in Grand Rapids, where a gathering of Project Neighborhood people from my year and the two surrounding years are eating lunch and I'm able to see many people who were extremely important in my senior year of college.
Hour 1.75: leave said gathering.
Hour 4.5: arrive at the Detroit airport, 2.5 hours before my flight, because recent terrorism attempts are liable to make waits for security unbearably long.
Hour 5: pass through the last of security. Hmm, that was easy. Now I have two hours to kill.
Hour 7.25: board the plane in Detroit.
Hour 10.5: land in Ft. Lauderdale. Discover that my plane to Honduras, which should leave at hour 11.75, won't be leaving until hour 13.25 for some unknown reason. Meet up with my roommate Al, who flew his first leg from Chicago. We kill time in the terminal, helped by the free (but unreliable) wireless internet provided by Ft Lauderdale's airport.
Hour 13.25 (1:15 am EST, Monday): Board the plane in Ft. Lauderdale. This flight was the low point of the trip - middle seat, no leg room, already tired by no sleep possible.
Hour 16.25 (3:15 CST): Land in San Pedro Sula, Honduras. It takes about 45 minutes to go through customs (Hour 17), but there's nothing we can do as it's the middle of the night and the first bus for Tegus leaves at 6:30 (Hour 19.5). So we find some benches to take a nap on.
Hour 18.75: catch an overpriced (by Honduras standards) taxi to the bus station.
Hour 19.5: the Hedman-Alas bus, which is quite luxurious, leaves the station. We stop once, but other than that, I manage to sleep and pass the time quite well.
Hour 25.5: Arrive at the terminal in Tegucigalpa. Catch a taxi to home.
Hour 26 (12:00 pm Monday, CST): Unlock the door to home.

It is worth noting that I read nearly 400 pages in this 26 hour period. I finished two books (one previously started) in this time. I'm quite proud of this.

The difference between this voyage (besides the 19-hour difference in duration and having been in Honduras before) and the first one back in August is that I drove into Tegucigalpa rather than flew. I was able to study the city as it peeked into view through the mountains, picking out landmarks, reorienting myself as I realized we're at the northwest corner of the city, and my house is on the south end, noticing the notable tall buildings and cathedrals (rather than being plopped into the middle of it by an airplane with no points of reference to begin with). When we got into the cab, I wasn't satisfied until I was able to pick out a familiar sight, and I'm pleased to report it didn't take very long.

I realize this means the city is familiar to me. That's something I've always taken pride and put a lot of effort into - getting to know my surroundings. Knowing how to get around. Knowing where things are in relation to each other. I have to pay attention in every cab ride, every bus ride, in case we take a different turn and a new street is presented to me, so I can add it to my metal radar. I like to know exactly where I'm going and how to get pretty much anywhere by having directions explained to me once. I've done this with Grand Rapids, with Holland, even back to the route between Battle Creek and Hamilton I rode along nearly every weekend for the first 16-18 years of my life. I've come a long way to doing it with Tegucigalpa. I wish I had my own vehicle, so I could just explore on my own, get lost in a colonia and then find myself again on the other side, having "conquered" another little corner of the city.

So while there's plenty I don't appreciate about Honduras, at least I have that to keep me wanting to leave my house. At least there's something that makes me want to get to know this place. I'll always have this urge, I feel, so that wherever I go, I have a reason to pay attention and value a place, if only for its geography. And with its ever-twisting road system and limited visibility around hills that pervade the landscape of the town, Tegus provides a unique challenge.

I've started reading a book I found in a used bookstore over Christmas break called The Longing For Home by Frederick Buechner. I hope to provide some of my own thoughts in response to it right here, giving the blog some needed purpose rather than just rehashing how I feel regarding my existence down here from time to time. It's at least give me a framework in which to rehash how I feel. I think it will be a very worthwhile read at this point in my life. More on that later, as this post has typically ballooned, and I need to buy groceries. And, you know, actually do my job.