Language Geek-Out

There’s something distinctly unique about the Spanish language that I had been trying to figure out during my time here in Honduras.  For some reason, I thought this over and over again but could never quite put my finger on it.  I finally figured it out this past week while listening to an English song translated into Spanish.

I love listening to translated songs because I find it insanely interesting to see how different lines are interpreted.  Sometimes it is very literally done: “I want to see You” becomes “Yo quiero verte.” Other times, the poetry is rewritten a little bit: “Break my heart for what breaks Yours” becomes “Muestrame tu corazon,” or literally “Show me Your heart.”

What really impresses me, however, is how they manage to make the words rhyme, even in the translated language.  So I was listening to this translated song (I don't even remember which song it was) and laughing to myself thinking, “Of course, it must be easy to rhyme in Spanish.  So many words have the same endings!”

...

And that’s when it hit me.

In English, you can write poetry or songs or novels, and they are beautiful because of what the words say.  In Spanish, the words are the beauty.  Spanish is poetry.  Spanish is a song.  Spanish is beautiful without trying. 


Here’s a list of some of my favorite Spanish Word Quirks:

Poder: This word has two distinctly different meanings that probably are not meant to be related, and yet I can’t help making the connection anyway.  The first meaning is the verb “can” or “to be able to.”  Of course, everyone learns that in Spanish I—or even in cheesy Disney Channel movies (“Si, se puede!”).  But the second meaning I only learned (as I learned much of my Spanish this year) after hearing it in several worship songs.  This second meaning is the word “power.”  In Spanish worship, God is always coming “con poder.”  God is “todo-poderoso.”  I think the connection was made when I remembered a shirt I saw once in Haiti that said “Kris kapab” or “Christ can.”  God is powerful.  God can.  God is powerful because He can.  And we can do anything through Him.  “Por Ti, todo lo puedo!”

Esperar: Here’s another word with two meanings: “to hope” and “to wait.”  It has become a pet-peeve of mine when language-learners say something like this, “If it’s the same word, how do we know which one they mean?!”  And the answer given is always simply, “Context.”  Now don’t get me wrong.  I’m guilty of this complaint in a language class setting., too

(Confession time: I still can’t tell the difference between the word for sit (sentar) and the word for feel (sentir).  “He’s either asking me if I’m feeling okay... or if my chair is comfortable.  I’ll just smile and nod.”)

But I’ve realized that there’s no need for "context" in most cases.  The two words simply mean the SAME THING.  If someone says they are waiting for you, he is really saying he is hoping for you to come.  And if someone says they hope you feel better, she really means she is waiting for the day when you will smile again.  “Do they mean hope or wait?”  “Yes.”  It’s beautiful.  Don’t question it.  Just embrace it.

Querer: A similar verb is querer, which usually means “to want,” but is also used to tell someone that you love them.  “Te quiero.”  I want you.  Dang you and your poetic romanticism, Spanish.  Stop it.

Lo siento: Here comes New Language Pet Peeve #2: approximate translations with no literal context.  Most gringos probably know that this phrase means “I’m sorry,”  but few probably know that it actually means, “I feel it.”  When apologizing, Spanish skips right over sympathy and jumps straight to empathy.  It’s not just “I’m sorry that happened to you.”  Instead, it becomes, “That pain you’re feeling?  I feel it, too.”

Que tienes?: Okay, this one I just like.  In Spanish, they use the word “to have” (tener) in many instances when we would use “to be” in English.  “I have 20 years old.”  “I have hunger.”  “I have coldness.”  What we would consider a state of being, they see as something you either have or don’t have.  I have a friend here who can always tell when I’m upset about something.  But it’s never “What’s wrong?” or “Are you okay?”  He always just simply asks, “Que tienes?”  “What do you have?”

Adios: When I first got here, I used to think that it was really strange that when you pass people on the street, they will say, “Adios!”  I thought, “Goodbye?  You just saw me!”  In English, we don’t do that.  (Well, in the States... Do English people do this?  Canadian?  Austrailian?  I need to know now!)  Anyway, in the States, if you pass someone on the street, it’s polite to greet by saying, “Hello!”  But you would never say, “Goodbye!”  It would sound silly.

 

(And this is where Pet Peeve #2 kicks in again...)

 

But I realized that if you think about it, “adios” does not literally mean “goodbye.”  “Good” is “bueno” and who the heck knows what a “bye” is?  No, no.  “Adios” actually means “to God.”  Check it out—It’s  the same thing in French: “adieu” literally means “to God.”  After this epiphany, I made a silent habit of translating the word as such any time someone said it to me.  “Why, thank you, Stranger.  To God to you, too.”

Sorry about my Language Geek-Out...  Don’t  let it fool you.  My Spanish is still pretty dang awful.  In fact, if my language rant bored you, here are some of my Spanish Screw-Ups to make you smile.  Schadenfreude, my friends.

Oops #1: When I first got here, I thought Honduran mangos were the most disgusting thing on the planet.  Seriously.  What is wrong with these mangos?  Why are they hard?  Why do people eat them salty?  What is this nonsense?  But then I learned that Good Mango Season was just later in the year.  So I waited--I hoped--for big, soft, juicy mangos.

Finally, they’re here.  A guy is selling mangos out of the back of his truck, so I go over to buy one.  But I want to make sure I get a real mango.  A Good Mango.  So I’m trying to explain to him the kind I want: “Yes, sir, I’d like a mango, please... but not the hard kind.  You know, one with lots of juice?  Not hard.”  And he smiles, nods, and says, “Mas duro?”  Which means “Harder.”  “No!  No!  Not hard!” I emphatically respond.  “Really juicy!”  He smiles again, hands me a mango, and says, “Si!  Mas duro!”  What the heck?  “Duro” does mean “hard,” right?  “No.”  I try to explain again.  “NO duro.  Con jugo!”  Finally, the guy gives up on me and hands me a mango, insisting that it’s what I want.  I feel it.  Seems okay.  And it was.

Three days later I find out that the word for soft Good Mangos is... wait for it... maduro.  Epic fail, Gringa.

Oops #2: I was hanging out with my friend who usually walks with me to church.  I was about to leave, so I asked if he was going that night.  He wasn’t sure.  So I asked him to call me.  “Me llamas?”  Then he (and this is always a bad sign) smiled and said, “Yes, I’ll call you!”  But he kept giving me that “You-Just-Said-Something-Stupid-But-You-Don’t-Realize-It-Yet” Smile.  “Yes, of course, I’ll call you, Melissa!”  he said again, trying not to laugh.  "What is so funny?!"  And that’s when I realized that I forgot to pronounce the ‘ll’ like a ‘j,’ making my phrase sound like “Me amas?”  “Do you love me?”  Needless to say, I corrected myself, and as I walked away very red in the face, I could still hear him cracking up about it.  Jerk.

Honduras Two-Week Truck-It List

(Warning: Most of these will be food-eating...)

-Finish Follow Me to Freedom by Shane Claiborne and John Perkins

-Crepes at Bistro Green

-Brownie at Yat Balaam

-Buena Baleada

-Pizza place!

-Taco Place! (And not accidentally get ice cream instead again...)

-Empanada Place!

-Visit the Bird Park

-Visit the Butterfly House

-Stay an entire day at Camp Hope

-Spend time at the pool

-Learn “Hosanna” in Spanish

Mother is a Verb

Mommy,

How could I express everything you've done for me over the years?  It is certainly not a task I could take on alone.  Therefore, I got a little help from the ABBA kiddos...  Enjoy.  :)

Te amo mucho, Mama.

Melissa

 

Happy Mother's Day from Copan!

 

Mother is not a noun; it's a verb.  Mother is something you DO.  I have been fortunate enough to have many different beautiful women throughout my life who have mothered me in one way or another.  Consider this video a shout-out to all these amazing women, including but NOT LIMITED TO: Lauren Erndl, Sherry Herring, Julie Riddle, Jenna Steen, Kamie Sallee, Pastor Lisa, Jenn Goodwin, Mona Oliver, Heather Owen, Melonnie Kelly, Juliene Kelsey, Rebekah Krahe, Heather Pancoast, Beth-Anne McCown, Pastora Daisi Guerra, and, of course, my Mommy.

 

ALSO in special memory of Grace and Martha, a mother and daughter who are finally spending Mother's Day together again--and on streets of gold.

 

Last shout-out: to all the brave men out there who have, for one reason or another, had to step up and take on the extra role of mother.  I celebrate you today as well.

Brain Explosion

I have no excuse.  I know this because I have been trying to find one... Nope, no excuse.  So I'm sorry I haven't blogged in so long.

During my original Excuse Hunt (2 weeks ago...), I decided that I hadn't blogged because nothing had really been happening and I had nothing to talk about.  I was bored during Spring Break.  Then we had review week.  Then testing.  Blah blah blah.

But then I realized something: It's not really that nothing has been happening.  It's more like everything has been happening all at the same time and all within my own thoughts.  Like a brain explosion.

The problem was, I didn't feel like taking the time to explode my brain on the internet.  The internet is for brain-numbing, not brain-exploding.  It's like TV for social people.

But I think the time has come for me to explode for you guys.  Here it goes...

Explosion Part 1: Haiti

(Yes, I know Haiti has nothing to do with Honduras, but one really can't help in which country one's brain explodes...)

If you have ever tried to organize a trip to a country with people in another country while you're living in a third completely unrelated country, you'll understand this particular brain explosion...

If not, which is more likely, consider yourself lucky.

It has been incredibly hard to balance staying present in Honduras while simultaneously trying to plan, lead, and organize a trip to Haiti.  Props to my Stateside Team who have been keeping me somewhat sane!  But nontheless, it's been hard.  Sometimes a little more than frustrating.  At times, I have almost given up... But thank God, who has kept me focused and determined to see this through.  And thanks to some amazing people that I know have been praying for me in powerful ways.  Let me tell you, He's listening.

Soon, however, Honduras will no longer be a "completely unrelated country."  I have been talking to the director of ABBA, and we have decided to start a school-wide unit on serving the poor.  It will be a month-long project in which the kids will learn about Haiti and the school's there.  We want them to be able to see how blessed they are to have a safe and quality school they can attend--so much so that they would be willing to give to those who are not blessed in that way.  Throughout the month, the kids will be raising money toward a new school for a community in Haiti.  We are announcing the project on Monday, so all you miracle-prayers out there: Get to work!

Explosion Part 2: School
Here are some fun lessons I've done this past month:

Who Stole Mr. Potato Head?

Step 1: Hide Mr. Potato Head in a bin under the bookshelf.

Step 2: Hide his mouth with a note framing one of your students: "Help!  Aaron put me in the blue bin!"

Step 3: Tell the class, "Mr. Potato Head was stolen during recess!  What were YOU doing during recess?"

Step 4: Everyone gets a clue card with things they may have been doing when Mr. Potato Head was stolen.  Their initial is by what they were actually doing.  (Like Clue...)

On the back of the card, write what they saw someone else doing.

Okay, so we were learning the Past Continuous Tense, which is like "was walking," "were going," etc.  The kids had to interrogate each other like this: "Were you going to the park when Mr. Potato Head was stolen?"  Then the student had to answer, "No, I wasn't," or "Yes, I was."

They kept asking until we got to Aaron, who said he was doing something, but his "eyewitness" saw him doing something else!  Of course, he denied it and denied it, so we checked his backpack and lo and behold: There he was!

(Too bad for me, my kid's are smart and recognized my handwritting, so I was busted in the end.)

Gentle Jenga

For the Fruit of the Spirit unit we just finished, I wanted to play a game that would help them remember what gentleness means--Hello.  Jenga.

 

Step 1: I wrote questions or tasks on strips of paper and taped them to the blocks.  Some of them were a review of other fruits of the Spirit, some of the were silly (like tell a joke or sing a song), but most of them were situations in which you could show gentleness.  For example: "Someone pushes you in line at lunch.  How can you react in a gentle way?" 

Step 2: The kids got a point for pulling out a block successfully and points for doing the task--different tasks were worth more or less points.

Random sidenote: We made library cards, so they could check out my books and read on their own time.  One morning, I came into the classroom after our meeting and found this:


EVERY TEACHER'S DREAM

Lastly, here are some pictures of my new classroom decor!

We really like mysteries...

 

We traced our own feet to make the footprints. (Steps to Success)

We have one for reading, too... They're supposed to look like big notebooks!

And, of course, the Share Chair they made.

Explosion Part 3: Personal Life

Okay, let's be real here: It gets lonely.  No explanation needed.  I won't go into that.  Instead, I will show you four lonliness-busters.  Ready, Set, Go!

1) English Bible Study
Thank the Lord for English Bible Study.  And our week-late Easter celebration. :)

(Check out pictures on Facebook!)

A special shout out to my friend Katie, who took care of me after a particularly bad and lonely weekend.

2) The Ruins

So I dipped into my saving sock (color of the sock will remain nameless, for his... or her own protection) and went to the ruins (finally!) with Grecia's cousin and a couple of her American friends.  It was really amazing!  Here are a couple of pictures:

Cool statue thingie...

"That's a pretty rock!" -Me
"This is where people got their heads chopped off.  The blood ran down the grooves there." -Guide
"...Oh." -Me

^That's me!^

3) New Apartment

I am very excited to announce that I now live in my own apartment!  I'll have to dip into my savings sock a little more for it... but I do get free wifi.  So I mean, come on.  Bring on the brain-cell-killing!

4) Um, Package.

This is what it looked like by the time I got home... because I was trying to open it and walk home at the same time...

 And this is the fun goodness inside.  Somehow, my amazing parents managed to fit all of my favorite candies inside one single box without it exploding with pure joy.

 Exploding with pure joy.  Yes, that's about where I am now.  Thank you to everyone who has been there for me lately.  I love all of you guys!  A special thank you to everyone who sent a note for my box.  They really made my day.  The candy will be gone in a week, but your words of encouragement are printed on my heart.  :)

If I Ran the Circus y otros cuentas por Dr. Seuss

I WENT TO THE CIRCUS.





For all you jerk Florida friends who have been posting nothing on Facebook besides “OH EM JEE, New Fantasyland at Disney!”  “Who wants to go to Universal?!” and “Season passes: Who wants to go with me?”... First of all, I hate you.  That is mean.  Second of all, I went to a Honduran circus so IN YOUR FACE.

^Tent^

Ever since I passed the tent the first time several weeks ago, I kept thinking, “HOLY CRAP.  I have to go to the circus.”  I hadn’t been to one in years!  Thus, the planning commenced.  I asked the English Bible study-ers to go with me, but apparently only Lauren was cool enough to come.  We were so excited that her husband finally said, “You know this is not going to be big and exciting like an American circus, right?”  But Lauren and I agreed: the fact that it’s not an American circus is what made it so exciting!


So in response to all your Disney pictures... Here is my Honduran Circus Photo Journal:

Emocionada!

Opening music... Star Wars Theme?

 Who says it's "just a Honduran" circus?  They had...

a fire dancer...

clowns...

dancing dogs in dresses and tuxes...

an upside-down fire spinner... guy...

and two really big snakes.

^This book is about Hitler^

What more can you want?!

So I've started working at Urban Promise Honduras two days a week, which is great because it reminds me of Neighborhood Ministries!  I've been at Camp Hope Mondays and Wednesdays teaching a 20-minute English class to 4th-6th graders.

It's fun because I get to make them stand up and spin around and put chairs on their heads and all sorts of crazy stuff.  :)

After class, I stay to help with homework.  There is one 5th grader there who goes to Mayatan Bilingual School, so I tend to hang out with her.  My first day there, I didn't have any English books for her, so we read Yortuga la Tortuga together.  She's read a page and I'd translate, and then we'd switch.
 



"A person's a person no matter how small."

Speaking of small people, here are some funny moments from class for you:



 

1) We were practicing the continous present by playing charades.  One person who have to act out a phrase like "washing an elephant."  The others would have to guess in a full sentence: "You are washing an elephant."  If they guessed wrong, the person acting would have to say, "No, I am not..."

 

So Jensy had "eating something hot."  And Gilbert, God bless him, is trying so hard:

"You are eating!... ehh hot!  You are... YOU ARE HOT!"

 

And we ALL bust out laughing.

 

2) They were looking through their books to find words that end in -ge.  All of a sudden Gilbert (this kid says the darnest things...) says, "Miss!  I found the word 'orgy!'"

 

...I'm sorry, what?  I walk over.  "Gilbert, that says 'urge..." Great word!  Write it down!"  :P

 

 

And let's face it... I say some funny crap, too:

 

3) In Spanish class, the kids were using my computer to watch a music video with their other teacher.  I could tell the story was about how a guy's dad was gone, but I wasn't sure if he was dead or just gone or what have you.  So I asked the teacher, "Donde esta la papa?"  At which all my students started cracking up.  I would have, too, if someone asked me where the potato was...

 

4) Kids tried to teach me to roll my Rs.  Just picture that in your head for awhile.  Yeah.

 





Where is God taking you today?!

And a random shout-out to my (big) sister who's turning OLD this week!  I love you, Nikita!  Sorry your bookmark is mush, but let's be real.  The card totally makes up for it.  :)

The 30 to 3 Theory

Something interesting I’ve noticed about the life of Jesus: Jesus only spent three years teaching.  That’s it.  Three.  And it’s not as if He looked back and thought, “Dang!  If only I had started sooner!  That whole unexpected crucifixion really threw off my schedule!”  Of course not.  He knew exactly what He was doing.  Heck, He changed the course of history with those measly three years.  So the question remains, what exactly did He do for the first thirty years?

Here’s my theory:

Jesus spent thirty holy years learning to be human and three years teaching humans to be holy.  It sounds ridiculous, because He’s God, but think about it: He had to learn language, culture, and emotions just like any other human.  That’s what make the Gospel so beautiful: God experienced the human condition (kind of makes it sound like a disease, but I think the wording is appropriate).  He knows exactly how we feel.  Then after thirty years, Jesus basically said, “Okay, now I know what it’s like to human.  And it’s broken.  Let me show you how to be like Me instead.”

As a teacher striving to model my life after Christ, I can come to only one logical conclusion: my learning to teaching ratio should be 30:3.  In other words, for every thirty things I learn, I should teach three.  And then learn some more.

This is not to say that I should keep to myself things I could otherwise teach... no.  It’s more of a reminder that I should be constantly learning, constantly aware of how much I don’t know.  If I can teach one thing to someone, he can teach me ten.  It’s a humbling life view, if you think about it.

What I’m Learning:

Culture

Okay, obviously, I’m learning a while new culture.  And culture is a funny thing.  Who knew all those years of being scolded to use a fork, I could have just moved to Honduras and eaten with my hands all day long?  In semi-related news, I learned to use a gas stove.

Guitar

I had my first guitar lesson this past Wednesday, and it was great, though my fingers are still a little sore...  Walter (Grecia’s husband) is teaching me in Spanglish—he trying to say things in English and using Spanish if necessary, and I the opposite.

Mayans

Thursday the 3^rd and 4^th graders went on a field trip to the Mayan Museum.  (It would have been nice if I had known about the field trip before I arrived at school, but it was fun nonetheless.)  The museum was geared toward children, so it was very interactive and interesting.  All the pictures are on my Facebook if you’d like to see!

Spanish

I had my first Spanish class Friday, and it was really great.  I met with my teacher at a cafe and she’s really good.  She’s one of those teachers that tricks you into thinking you know more than you do (by speaking slowly and using a small vocabulary) so that you instantly become comfortable.  You leave thinking, "Holy crap!  I can totally speak Spanish!"  But really you can't.  It's one of those teacher illusions.  I talked with her in Spanish for about an hour and a half, though!  Granted, it was probably awful broken Spanish with a goofy gringa accent, but she understood me.  That’s what matters.

Abolishing the Comfort Zone

“Melissa, get the heck out of your comfort zone!” –Melissa’s Whiteboard

Just some words of wisdom from me to me to you.  :)

 

What I’m Teaching:

English—ABBA Bilingual School (And some other subjects as well...)

English—the Pastor and Co.  (It was supposed to be just the Pastor, but apparently we’re going to start having Family English Time.)

English—my Spanish teacher  (We worked out an agreement: free Spanish for me, free English for her.)

English—Urban Promise (Another ministry asked me to teach English as an after school activity with their kids starting in March.)

 

(Are you catching a pattern here?...)

So my learn to teach ratio isn’t perfect yet... but it’s pretty obvious I only really have one skill to give here.  I’m basically just teaching the same thing to... all of Copan.  How much I have to learn, though!

 

Happy learning, Friends!

My Big Fat Honduran Wedding

 

Looking like a peasant next to the bride...

Well, friends, while everyone else in America spent the weekend watching an oversized rodent give a weather report and overtestosteroned males jump on top of each other, I had the pleasure of watching my overbeautiful Honduran sister get married! 

 

You can imagine, since I live with her family, how many people were crammed in the house all weekend... The first relatives (from Texas!) came in on Thursday, and then others trickled in from all over Honduras.  Imagaine something like this \/ all day, every day, all weekend long.  Lots of people, lots of talking and laughing, lot of... loud.

Just like a Cuban family!

 To be sure, my introverted self often had to escape for my own sanity... but it was nice getting to know the family.  The Texanites (Baha, I'm going to start calling you that, Nikita) and a cousin or two knew English, so that was good.  :)

The morning of the wedding, I mostly stayed in my room--shamelessly hiding from this:

You can put the tomboy in a dress, but you can't take the tomboy out of the girl...

I came out for a bit, and they offered to put make-up and fake eyelashes on my face and tease my hair.  Needless to say, I quickly ran back to my lair...  :P

The wedding was beautiful:

Don't be fooled by the sweet Cinderella's Carriage cake holder... We had flan for dessert.

Pretty Table Centers

The Aisle

The bridesmains and groomsmen line the aisle.

Waiting patiently...

Here comes the bride!

Throwing rice!  (Sorry, birds...)

After the service, we basically had a praise and worship dance party.  No one prepared anything specific... they just came up and sang.  It was like karaoke for Jesus.  Par-tay!



Heck, even the happy couple sang!

And, of course, no wedding is complete without fireworks.

The next day, I decided that I had a craving for ice cream.  (Okay, I know.  I always crave ice cream.  But Sunday I decided to act upon my hankering.)  So I asked one of the cousins (who happened to be extremely proficient in English) if she and some other cousins wanted to walk around town and get ice cream with me.

 

So Massiel (the sister), Maria Roquel (the English-speaking cousin from San Pedro, Honduras), and Melisa (another cousin's girlfriend), and I went off.  Roquel was cracking me up taking pictures of everything...

"Oh!  Take a picture next to the taxi!"

"Oh!  Take a picture against this cool wall!"

"Oh!  Take a picture next to this sign!"



We even stooped so low as to let an American tourist take one of the four of us...

Finally, I said, "Roquel!  You're making us look like tourists!"
Her response: "We ARE tourists!"

Hope I at least won someone a point in the Tourist Game...

Lessons from Honduras:
Ice cream cures all... Wait, I had to fly to Honduras to learn that?  :P

Lost and Found and Waiting Around

It’s not that I don’t have a good sense of direction... It’s that I don’t have a sense of direction at all.  Those of you who know me well know that I’m not exaggerating.  I would get lost walking to the bathroom if the door wasn’t in eyeshot.  (Okay, that was exaggeration... sort of.)

So anyway, here’s my theory: The best way to learn how to get around is to first get lost...

So I decided Saturday morning that I was going to walk to town, wander around and do some shopping, get a little lost, somehow find myself again, and go home.

(Funny side story: When I went to leave, I couldn’t find anyone.  I didn’t want them to worry about me so I pulled out my Spanish/English dictionary and phrasebook—thanks, Em!—and starting painstakingly writing a letter.  Unfortunately I was far too slow, so right as I was about to sneak out, the pastor caught me:

“Where are you going?  (the town)  How?  (...walking)  Why?  (shopping, reading, etc.)  Who’s going with you? (no one)  Are you meeting anyone?  (maybe Lauren)  When are you meeting Lauren?  (I don’t know)  When are you coming home?  (for lunch?)... *long awkward pause* Okay.”

Sound familiar, Papa? :P

PS I took all my effort not to answer “When are you coming home?” with “Depends on how lost I get...”)

Back to the present.  I finally got permission to walk to town.  When I got there, I realized that I’m apparently even an early riser in Honduran standards... So I read in the park for about an hour waiting for the rest of the town to wake up and open some shops!  Besides reading, I also caught myself playing The Tourist Game (AKA “Find a Foreigner” with Libby or “Beetlejuice!” with the Olivers).  Americans being the tourists was an interesting twist to my favorite theme park game, but still entertaining.  (Most were pretty easy to point out, but I never could place the Honduran looking girl who kept walking past with a rolling suitcase in hand...)

Finally, sleepy Copan opened its eyes, and I could put Jane Eyre down and start getting lost... I mean, shopping.   Basically, if you live in Honduras and I know you, I saw you.  God bless this itty bitty town.  I love it.  This even included a girl from the English Bible study I went to, which was nice because she pointed out some good stores to go to for what I needed.  It also included people that apparently knew me even though I didn’t know them...

In the end, I walked around, bought some random things I needed, got lost, backtracked, and eventually found the park again.

Mission accomplished.

***

Tuesday, all the teachers at ABBA threw a surprise party for Grecia and her fiancé, Walter, who are getting married on good old Groundhog’s Day.  (It was originally going to be a bachelorette party, but there’s only one boy teacher besides Walter, and they didn’t think it was very fair for him to have a two person bachelor party...) Since I live with the family, I decided it would be more sneaky (and definitely easier) if I just went home with Lauren that afternoon after school and with her to the party.  So we went a little early to help set up, about 4:30 when the party started at 5.  Other teachers straggled in little by little until we were all hanging around, waiting patiently for the guests of honor... 5:15... 5:30... 5:45... Where are they?!  The story was that Dinorah (hosting the party) needed a wedding invitation for someone who was going out of town very soon, and could you please bring it over now before she leaves?  So when Dinorah called about their whereabouts, Grecia says, “We’re coming!  We just decided that we might as well drop off some other invitations on the way!”  So they had been driving all over Copan handing out invites while the guests devoured the snacks!  :P

Waiting, waiting, waiting, watching the door, and waiting...

 



Finally, we got the surprise them!  We played some games, like Pin the Shoe on the Bride and a Spanish version of Fruitbasket Turnover—which BTDubs, is a much harder game when you don’t know Spanish.  We also got to watch Grecia and Walter do really hilarious things like feed each other spaghetti blindfolded and eat grapes hanging from a rope blindfolded. 

 

One girl pinned the shoe perfectly!

Spaghetti Wars!



Best. Picture. Ever.

Lessons from Honduras:

The best way to learn how to get around is to first get lost.

I have decided that this applies to life to.  When you feel completely and utterly lost, maybe it’s just the prerequisite to finding your way.  Be patient and backtrack if you need to.  :)