Wounded hands.

Warning: This post contains some graphic images.
 
I was wading across the soaked soccer field a couple of weeks ago on a sunny Sunday morning, feeling like a very manly man with my pink baby daughter wrapped to my chest when a kid came running up.

Kid (Looking like he needs to tell me something): "Hi Kaleb. Good morning."
Kaleb (Suspicious of what Kid wants to tell me): "Good morning. What's up?"

Kid (Spitting it out.): "My brother wants to know if you sew people up?"
Kaleb (Inwardly squirming.): "I'm assuming you mean give people stitches. If you mean that, then all I can say is that I never have, but could be willing in the right circumstances. When did he cut himself?"
Kid: "Just this morning."

We need to hear from you!

Those of you who are on our snail mail list received this card in the mail a few weeks ago.  

We are officially switching to ¨e-newsletters¨ and need to hear back from those of you who would like to receive them. 

Read below and....please respond.

The Little Winged One flies south.

The Chelita arrived in Honduras on Sunday, October 19. I could write to you about our return, but this would be pretty tame news compared to the arrival of a third Gringo Eldridge in Las Lomitas. Alida did remarkably well on the flight. Between being wrapped up with Momma and jumping up and down in Dad’s lap, she didn’t hardly notice that we flew thousands of miles and over several sovereign states. Delta was very accommodating and even asked some folks to move from their assigned seat so that we could have an extra seat to lay her out in. Thanks Delta.

Ya Pronto.

Ya pronto - "Very soon now."

Ya pronto we will be in line at the Dayton airport traveling with some additional equipment: a car seat, load of cloth diapers, pack and play, and grinning, toothless, white baby. We anticipate Sunday's trip to be interesting, but not miserable. Alida has taken very well now to travel and by-in-large is incredibly well-behaved. Stacey has worked tirelessly (and somewhat tired-ly) to help her become adaptable so that now, travel is largely effortless. I have no doubts that she has easily traveled 3,000 miles in a car in her short, pink, little life, which has certainly taken significantly longer than her upcoming flight of approximate distance. We now see her wonder of the surrounding world sparkling in her eyes. I expect that they will be sparkling quite a bit over the next couple of weeks. Things are about to change. Ears are going to adjust to new sounds and languages, skin to new humidity, immune system to new training buddies, nose to quite a variety of new odors, and heart to new family and friends. I am excited and nervous for her, but rest knowing that she is in the care of her great Father.

We know that she is dearly loved here by friends, and suspect that some of the people that say that they love us are also telling the truth. In this way, it is hard to say goodbye (again) for a time. However, we know that there are many people in Honduras that also love this little girl, even though they have never met her. We also know that if we don't try to return home and see if God has more for us there, then we will doubt for the rest of our lives if we gave up. We have seen Him do amazing things in and through us throughout these past three years and trust that He will continue the work that He has begun.

Our return does not automatically mean that we will remain in Honduras permanently. We go with open minds and hearts for what may greet us at our Honduran home. Our prayer is that Alida adjusts well, Stacey's tailbone heals, and that we (the three of us) are conduits of love and hope in Honduras. We also thank God for giving us the chance to know Grace and Love ourselves. We would be honored to know that you are joining us in those prayers.

See you on the other side.

Seven years.

For those of you that have followed our story over the past three years, you know that much of our time and energy is spent advocating for the people of Las Lomitas, or more accurately, supporting the people of Las Lomitas as they advocate for themselves. Along this journey, many of you have come alongside us and fought for our neighbors, giving of your time, money, and emotions, some of you have even traveled the 8,000 mile round-trip to meet these people and pass on the Hope that is within you. Lomitans fondly remember Bobbie, Debbie, Filipe, Anita, David y Laura, "Chessy (Jesse)," Karen y Marty, and Janet.

Following our update on the meeting of national leaders with community leaders last year, we have kept pretty quiet about the community's electricity project, but by no means does that mean that movement has ended. We have made multiple trips to the national headquarters of the ENEE with and without members of Congress (no sarcasm) to confirm and discuss the future of electricity in Las Lomitas, and every time, we have felt that we need to continue to wait. As of  my visit this June, the community's and my patience had reached the limit. No more lies. It was time to purchase posts.

Thanks to the generous gifts from North American partners that came out of Las Lomitas' appeal last year, the people of Las Lomitas were equipped with a sizeable fund and informed the ENEE and political powers-that-be (and powers-that-have been voted out) that we were going to move forward as a community with donated funds without government involvement.

Then, after seven years of deception and illusion, real magic happened.

In early August, I picked up my cell phone to an excited voice rapid-firing Spanish. Nahún (Honduran neighbor) quickly told me that a truck was stuck in the mud at the bottom of the hill. A truck loaded with electrical posts for Las Lomitas. That sounded a little too good to be true, especially since I knew that the community hadn't made a post purchase yet. I had developed a Honduran-like distrust of elected officials and figured that they weren't doing anything, but a week later Pastor Erick called to let me know that the men in the community had already manually installed all ~50 posts in the 6-foot deep hand-dug holes that they had dug. After seven years of empty promises, all of a sudden the ENEE began to move forward and start in Las Lomitas. All of a sudden, they realized that Las Lomitas wasn't kidding anymore. All of a sudden they realized that Las Lomitas was a town full of people that were not just sitting down.

I met a town full of new people when I visited this month. I met 60 men that had each volunteered 10 days of hard labor. I met a town full of people that believe that Las Lomitas can move forward. People that are starting to dream about all that could be. People that are packing the little church beyond capacity and are full of Hope. People that say, "The politicians may have ignored us, but God has not." 

As the photo above shows, the project is now very well-along and may be done by now. I'll be in Las Lomitas again next week and will get a better idea of how advanced the project is and what next steps will be.

I want to extend a special thank you to all that have donated towards the Las Lomitas Electricity project. Your financial support empowered the community to move forward and finally put sufficient pressure on the government so that they would begin the promised project. I fully believe that this project could not have happened without you. As of now, all of the specialized labor and material purchases in this project have been provided by the Honduran National Government thanks to grants from the Nation of Finland for rural electrical extension. We will be in touch with each of you in regards as to how you would like to us to move forward with your donated funds.

September 15

September 15 is a special day in the Eldridge family for three reasons.

 
1. Honduran Independence day.
Honduras celebrates Central American independence from Spanish colonial rule along with Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica on September 15. This morning, Google welcomed me to my computer's Honduran homepage (www.google.hn) with the patriotic little drawing of the Honduran national critter.

2. International Moving Day.
Three years ago, Stacey and I boarded a plane in Dayton, Ohio - destination: San Pedro Sula, Honduras. Disembarking from that plane, we walked into our new climate in a foreign nation. After working hard to identify a community to settle in, we now call that nation home. We built our home there. We have lived alongside people - celebrating birthdays and attending funerals. We have adopted family there. September 15 was a game changer.

3. Baby on Board Day.
Exactly one year ago today, in a hot, little concrete bathroom in our Honduran home, we found out that Alida Fe was going to be joining the Gringo clan. A couple of weeks of strange illness and heat aversion had tipped us off, but a tiny white stick gave us the international symbol of a life-changing event...+.

Potrait of a Gang Member

Image from The Children's Home Project blog.

Jenny Kast is a good friend that shares our heart for the people of Honduras. Her journey has taken her and her husband from the US, to living in Honduras, back to the US (with a Honduran dog) where she is now running a non-profit, The Children's Home Project. Jenny has worked with a lot of street kids in San Pedro Sula over the years, and is constantly in and out of many of the area's children's homes. She has a unique perspective and is an unceasing advocate for these kids. This week she wrote up a blog post that I would like to pass along. Read Portrait of a Gang Member here, and be sure to check out the rest of the site to learn more.

Get Involved: Pilas

Pilas are one of those things that can turn a North American into a Gringo into an Amigo. To the unacquainted, time at a pila is very humbling. I suspect that Hondurans secretly love nothing more than watching Gringos prove that they earn their little nickname by fumbling around a scrub board. However, if you know how to work one of these things, instead of silent snickers you get approving head nods and the right to be called by your actual name.

A Post about A Review about A Film About Coffee

I have long been a coffee admirer - a consistent sipper of black brews and dutiful partaker of our global culture's Official Beverage. But as it seems, fate has placed me on a track to become more than just a fan in the coffee game. My home is in the middle of a coffee field. My neighbor owns a coffee farm. My office desk is 12 inches away from a shelf stocked with a hundred pounds of roasted, artisan coffee. One of our best friends was literally born in a coffee field. I have an infant that gets a vote in my sleep schedule.

And now, I've seen A Film About Coffee.

Licuados

Let's be honest. Even on a cold day in Honduras, you might sweat a little. It's just hot. Fortunately, there are licuados (lee-quah-does). Not quite a smoothie, not quite a milkshake, but every bit as refreshing. Made from milk, ice, sugar, and fruit, these rascals go down smooth on a hot day. Popular fruit flavors are papaya, banana (try it with chocolate too), mango, strawberry, pineapple, and cantalope, but really any fruit will do. Some baristas vary the base liquid as well. Instead of milk, you can use water (great with watermelon) or fresh orange juice (great with strawberry).  Give it a shot next time you feel the temperature rising. We made some here in the office last week with favorite licuado combination- cantalope and milk.

Here's how to make your own.