Photos

At the top of Cerro San Cristobal, Santiago

Marketplace and statue in Santiago

Peru\Chile border (see the hill of Arica in the background)

 View from Arican airport

 Humitas (Chilean tamales) my favorite food so far

 Matías, Martina and me

 Playa Chinchorro, a few blocks from school

Martina in Lluta

 Starting the BBQ (we wrapped newspaper around a wine bottle, stacked the coals and then removed the bottle before lighting) Grandpa fanning it to get it going

All the meats

Boris is to my right, his friends and Vladimir

 View of Lluta from the family's cross

 Decorating the cross (and removing the empty beer bottles)

 Claudia, me and Vladimir

Track our earthquakes and tremors here: Arica Quakes

Shake it up

As many already know I am down in Chile for the next few months volunteer English teaching (for those who weren't aware, now you are 😉). I was accepted into the program English Opens Doors, a collaborative effort put forth by the Chilean Ministry of Education and the United Nations Development Program. With this program English speakers are partnered with Chilean English teachers and work in the classroom in the about the same capacity as I did in Spain. We are each assigned a school, courses and a host family. The program in general is much more involved than the previous one I did. We arrived in Santiago and spent a week doing a crash course training. This involved TEFL training, classroom management and Chilean culture. My particular session of volunteers is comprised of 21 volunteers from all over the world, and who were sent all over Chile. I was assigned to Arica, Chile's northernmost city and the last stop before Peru, with two other volunteers (Selene from South Korea and Vladimir from Bulgaria). I am working at Colegio San Marcos with 6-11 graders. The program involves teaching, helping with debate teams and starting an English club. My first week at the school involved observing classes and decorating the English classroom. I am looking forward to actually teaching and getting involved with the students this next week.

My host family is absolutely incredible. I live with a small village of Chileans in one house. There's Claudia, the mom who teaches fourth grade at the same school, Boris, the dad, Matias, who's 9, Martina, 6, the uncle Toño and Camilla his daughter, 11, and grandma and grandpa. Plus me. That makes 9. From the minute they met me at the airport in Arica they have made it very clear that I am another member of the family and have been showing me their love with copious amounts of food. I'm one week in and had to loosen my belt. They've taken me around the city, to markets and this weekend to Lluta for my first Chilean BBQ. Lluta is one of two valleys at the beginning of the world's driest desert, and the grandparents have a small home there. Vladimir joined us along with two other families for a day of beer, BBQ and all things Chilean. Along the way we passed by geoglyphs, a place site I'm hoping to return to to see up close, the kiddos chattered and climbed all over their new "gringo siblings" and Boris popped the top on another beer. With his seatbelt. Once in Lluta we went for a walk with the kids, armed with rocks to scare off stray dogs, and got a step by step lesson in Chilean BBQ. The BBQ was loaded with chorizo, hot dogs, chicken and slabs of beef. I got an egg and potatoes. After lunch Vladimir and I were invited to hike up the hill behind the house to the family cross. This is a tradition that is traced back to Pre-Colombian  times when the natives had hills that honored their families and once a year host a festival to celebrate their family and Pachamama, Mother Earth. When the Spanish came they brought with them the catholic religion and the natives in the region adopted the crosses as part of this tradition. Claudia's family cross has stood atop this hill for an estimated 200 years, and they insist that just as much importance is given to the hill itself as to the cross. This is honored by offering the first sip of every drink to the Pachamama (which to Vladimir and me at first looked like everyone was dumping their beer on the ground for no apparent reason before drinking). The hike up was steep, sandy and a bit slippery. The grandfather had me carry the rusty hatchet up, something I gladly did after reminding myself I am up to date on my tetanus shots. Upon arriving at the cross the family crossed themselves, then opened a beer,  shared some with Pachamama and placed a new tile on the cross base. We took photos and enjoyed the view while the family explained the importance of the family cross and the festival in May, a day when they supposedly go up and down this hill six times to bring up all the supplies, which we have been invited to. It was incredible to be allowed to be apart of something so sacred to the family and look forward to May when we can do it again.

I should also add the Chile is a hot spot for earthquakes and tremors, two things I never thought I'd differentiate between. 7 and up on the Richter scale is an earthquake, everything below is just a tremor. As part of orientation as well as part of the "welcome to your new Chilean family" we were all prepped on earthquake and tsunami safety. In Santiago we felt the aftershock of a tremor in the north, and since arriving in Arica I have felt at least five tremors. And have been crossing my fingers to not experience an earthquake. I'm not quite ready to shake things up that much. Sorry this entry isn't well organized, I am having technical difficulties.

Honduras

Two months ago I was offered the chance to join a group headed down to Honduras on a medical mission (some medical and others non-medical), and my only question was "Who do I make the check out to?" After having spent a majority of the last year and a half traveling the other side of the globe, I was eager to get back to Latin America, the region that has always interested me most. I fully expected to love Honduras, grow from the experience, make new friends and then to come home. I could never have anticipated the extent to which I would fall for this country, its people, its mountains, beaches and food.  Never have I been in such a foreign place and felt so at home. Words truly cannot do justice to what I experienced during my short time in Honduras, and in the end the only thing I can think about is how to get back there.

Our first day was spent traveling from Boise to Denver to Houston to San Pedro Sula. Getting off the plane we were hit by a wall of 90% humidity and I began to question my reasoning for signing up for the trip in August. Then we began the clinics. Day one was in Calan, a short drive from San Pedro Sula. We arrived at the church where we were going to be doing the clinic, and there were patients already waiting, smiling. I was so excited to get started, but also had no idea what to expect. Medicine is not my forte, and what if I didn't understand the Spanish they spoke? Or worse, what if they couldn't understand me? To many this may seem like a silly worry, but the very first patient we had proved that even within the same language there are barriers. I asked what we were seeing her for, she grabbed my hand and, smiling, said "I have lots of sugar in my blood" I said "You are sweet". She's diabetic. Oops. Good thing we both had a good sense of humor. Things went much smoother after that. We saw over 300 people the first day giving vitamins and parasite meds to most who came, there were lots of diabetics, yeast infections, UTI's and funguses too.

Day two we headed to Morazan, a town which many in the group have a special connection to. (A little girl from the village was brought to the US for cancer treatment, some from our group have been to Honduras on this mission before). This day was by far the most intense for Pam (the woman I got to translate for) and me. It was foot day. Our second patient had an amputated leg and was in a wheelchair (foot rest on the wrong side, something a man in our group went out of his way to fix). She told me had an 'owie' on her foot, and as I'm unwrapping it we're talking about the need to check your feet as she's diabetic or she could risk getting a diabetic ulcer...surprise. She had a sizable one.

Second diabetic ulcer this woman has had, the first one caused her to lose her leg and this one will too (trying to save it is something that cost too much) Our morning was spent cleaning it out and talking to her and her family about the risk of not going in to the hospital. Through the whole process they were all so grateful and kind. 

 Our working space.

 Foot #2, stepped on a stick, went to the hospital, they didn't look at the wound. There was still wood in it causing a nasty infection and lots of pain for the poor man. After him we got one more foot (asking for us by name, "The women who take of feet for people with diabetes"), stepped on a nail.

 Finally playing with kids. 

Superheroes 

Day three was my favorite, we went up in the mountains to the village of Tablon, Yoro. The people were so welcoming, Jorge walked us up to a house, knocked on the door and asked if they could show us their bread stove out back, they then invited us in to tour their home. The patients were simple this day too, karma for all the feet the day before, needing mainly vitamins and parasite treatment (some diabetes meds and yeast infections too). We were done around lunch time and had time to take in the area and play around with the kids and locals. Back in San Pedro we went out for dinner and ice cream too.

 Bread stove out back

 Piglets behind the house

Day four was in Aguas Calientes, a town full of machetes. Rolling up to the clinic we were greeted by a smiling old man with a machete. Everyone walking around seemed to have one, I still am not sure what they were being used for exactly. It was another shorter day, allowing us the chance to interact with the locals more. The kid team taught some of the young adults how to make bracelets, we visited a fortress, and came back for dinner.

Everyone and their kids seemed to have a machete in this town, this boys posed with their new masks for me

 Rising river means time to leave and time to fish

After finishing clinic for the day and before dinner we headed out to the Spanish fortress San Fernando de Omoa. Even after having spent a considerable amount of time in Spain, I believe that the old fortresses the conquistadores left on our side of the world are among the most astounding of their architectural accomplishments.

Before we headed out to Tela for some R&R, some of our group opted for a 6am hike up Mount Merendón to visit one of the city's best known landmarks, the Coca Cola sign. If the hike up was difficult, it was all forgotten as soon as we reached the viewpoint. The morning fog still lingered over the valley and opposite us we could see the mountain peaks jutting out above the fog. We then headed back down, out to the market and then to Tela.

At the top of Mount Merendón 

 View from the Coca Cola sign

Tortilla aisle at the market

Dad's truck broke down, so the kiddo got to try to fix it, then push it

Our time in Tela was much needed. After four days of clinics it was perfect to be able to relax and enjoy a different kind of Honduras than what we had been so immersed in. We stayed at a resort right on the beach, although to be perfectly honest most of didn't stray too far from the pool bar the first evening (until the dance classes started in the bar, and let's be honest, after an evening at a pool bar, who doesn't feel up to a little cumbia?). The following morning a group of us walked down the beach to see where La Laguna Negra drains out to the ocean. The lagoon gets its name from the trees that grow on its shore, dying it black. From the lagoon we continued down to a beachside Garifuna village where we played with puppies, listened to music and had a drink while taking in the view. That evening we went the other direction down the beach to get some bean fondue, yum, and enjoy the sunset over the Caribbean. It was hands down one of the most beautiful I have seen, think Orange Julius meets cotton candy. The next day was our final day in Tela, and some of us wandered back to the Garifuna village, then spent the rest of our afternoon soaking up the rays before heading back to San Pedro Sula.

Pool bar at La Ensenada 

Canoes all along the shore to take out fishing  

 Fisherboy 

 La Laguna Negra

 Puppies for days in the Garifuna village

 Fresh coconut water

 The view

 Perfect place to dry your laundry, in your bar

Headed out as the tide comes in 

 Bean fondue, unreal

This guy catches shrimp and then sells them down south. He proudly showed us his day's work and explained his livelihood to us

 Cranes in the tide pools

 Sunset over the sea

Don't pee in the pool, it'll change colors on you

Back at the Garifuna village, this little girl posed for her photo

The Caribbean

Sheep grazing on the beach

Leaving Tela

The day after Tela we had one more day of clinic. The clinic was in Puerto Cortes, and the largest one we had during our time in Honduras. The town had not had a clinic pass through it in three years, and it seemed to be made primarily of unattended children (the parents were working is what the kids told us).  There were many of the same ailments as at the first few clinics (headaches, yeast infections, arthritis, fungus, ear infections) along with a terrible burn from a tortilla grill, another foot (a little boy that stepped on glass) and asthma. Truthfully finishing the clinics was a bittersweet moment, we had finished what we had come there to do, having provided care for over 1,500 people in five villages, but it meant that it was time to leave.

He was so worried we were going to give him a shot, tears for days

Forms from the last day of clinic, almost 400!

Group shot, saying goodbye to Wilfredo (front and center) our driver. His goodbye speech brought tears to the eyes of many in the group

Never have I left a country feeling I owed it something more. Something more because the people gave me so much. So much love, kindness and so many hugs. My time in Honduras was too short and it was with a heavy heart that I boarded the plane. Apart from the typical feeling of gratitude for what we have available to us at home after seeing how little so many have in the areas we visited, I gained an appreciation for the ability to continue smiling and being grateful even if you have nothing. There is so much to be learned from the Hondurans, and I hope to have the chance to learn more. I also want to thank every person in our group, everyone added to the experience and had so much to give back to the communities we visited. También quería agradecerles a todos a quien hemos conocido por su ayuda, hospitalidad y paciencia. Han hecho que el viaje fue lo mejor posible y espero volver a verles pronto. Jamás me he sentido tan bienvenida en un sitio nuevo. Un fuerte abrazo a todos y ¡hasta la proxima!

Leaving San Pedro Sula 

Saying bye to Jorge