4 Year Anniversary brings….Stories from Honduras

September 15^th marked exactly 4 years we have lived in Honduras.  It has been a long, hard journey with many tough, sad days.  We know we have mentioned since before we moved here how passionate we are about Asset Based Community Development, Helping WITHOUT Hurting, HOLISTIC development, increasing transparency, and decreasing dependency.  True holistic poverty alleviation with long term positive results.  Some of the saddest times over the past 4 years have been watching and LIVING with the consequences of dependency that has been created over the past 50+ years of international aid in Honduras.  We have heard so many people say, “this can’t possibly hurt, it has to be right” – only to watch first-hand how that action caused a ripple or WAVE of hurt in a person and/or community over time.

We would like to dedicate our posts the rest of this year 2015 to stories.  We will change names and locations to protect the identities, but trust us when we say these are true, first-hand stories we have experienced living in and among Hondurans the past 4 years.

Dignity

Dignity seems to be a difficult goal to achieve. Not necessarily because it unattainable, but because it seems that we often are not entirely sure what it means. Like “empowerment” the very mention of “human dignity” almost seems to trigger thoughts of political and ideological conspiracies designed to catch us in word traps and make us vote for things we’re not even sure if we believe in by the time the syntax gymnastics are all over. (Kind of like this sentence).

However, the concept of dignity should be near the heart of every believer. Whether we talk about it in terms of “sanctity of life,” “human rights,” or “basic dignity,” there is nearly universal consensus that human life is worth something. For those of us that believe that humanity is designed in the image of loving, just, Creator God, we should hold to this conviction even more seriously. However, these brief paragraphs are not intended to determine whether or not human life is valuable, instead it is to ask the question of “How do we value human life?”

Yes. It does get cold in Honduras.

From the Archives: We had a good visit this week with friends Stephen and Melissa Smith. Steve and I were reminiscing about the pre-electric days (they visited prior to the arrival of the heavenly light), when I remembered that this post was in a draft from some time last year. Have a great Friday all!


A couple of years ago, on one cold afternoon we found this in the kitchen.

For the most part, living in the un-electrified Concrete Palace when it's cool and cloudy outside is no fun. In winter, the night is;a magical, damp time of 50 degree nights and 100% humidity. Humidity of the sort that you can't see through and slips through the window panes like a smoke monster. Clean laundry won't dry for days, and when it finally does, it has the refreshing smell of clean mildew. My feet spend the hours of 3-6 AM trying to convince me stay in the warm bed (as if I need any encouragement) instead of braving the frigid floor. My mind and body pucker at the very thought of a shower. Kittens go to extreme measures to warm up. 


Honduran Homestead

Note: This post is a big one and picture heavy. Click any of the photos to enter into a full screen slideshow.
 
Three years ago, we started digging in our front yard. We pulled out dozens of old shoes, thousands of corn cobs, hundreds of plastic bags, more than a few metal files, and to the great delight of neighbor kids, at two or three marbles per day shining out of the dirt like the egg of some feral window . What was once an abandoned lot slowly yielded to machete, hoe, pick, and shovel. Within a few months, the community dump had transformed into a productive garden. The work that began three years ago has not stopped evolving into a more sustainable form of living. One that is finally arriving to the level of what I would call a permaculture homestead.

Game time.

The homestead in Las Lomitas continues to be a popular place for in the evenings for games and good times. The kids have gone through their phases of favorite games that we’ve either had or have been given to us by family members.

Community Project in Las Lomitas

Average rainfall in Las Lomitas is somewhere in the 120”/year zone. That is QUITE A BIT OF AGUA. Anyone who has visited can attest to the incredible benefits and detriments of having this much rain. It means near constant, magical irrigation for crops, but serious also erosion issues. We always have rainwater in the cistern, but the dirt roads always have ruts in them. Rut is the political term, baby canyons might be more accurate at some times. The variation in the condition of the road in Las Lomitas is based primarily on how strong the storms are at any given time and when the last time the municipality passed the machina over the surface. When our road is at its very best and capable of rally-level autocrossing, I can be home in 7 minutes flat. When our sorry excuse for a road hasn’t been resurfaced in a couple of years, it can take up to 25 minutes to pull into the house and let the shocks and first gear take a break.

"Average" day.

A common question over the past few years has been “What’s an average day like for you guys?” The easiest (and most accurate) answer is that there is no regular day. Weekly activities change more often than Alida’s dirty diapers. Chores are the most consistent thing, but are different for Stacey and I. Since Alida’s birth, our roles have changed some, so with this overview, I’ll try give you a sample of what life looks like for Kaleb now… This was my Monday, July 6.

1 Year Old Alida Fe

On May 25^th our baby turned a year old!

Mom, where do baby coffees come from?

There is a huge pile of dark black topsoil in Las Lomitas. Fortunately there is a road (of sorts) that leads towards where it rests. Unfortunately, the last little tail of the road ends at the base of an enormous slope about 100 meters downhill from where that beautiful dirt lies in waiting. A friend in town, Len, told me I could take as much as I wanted since he was done with it. So I and a couple of my gardening guys have been filling feed sacks and hauling them through the yucca fields and down the slick path on our shoulders. 100 pounds at a time, each sack gets chucked onto our car's roof rack every time I get a spare minute. We've hauled about 40 sacks so far and there is still at least that much again to be brought down.

Mahogany Men.

In April, a five of us from Las Lomitas drove down the PanAmerican highway to Siguatepeque (See-gwa-teh-pek-eh), the next major wide spot in the road heading south. It is a beautiful drive for those of us that enjoy beautiful drives up into the mountains. For thirteen year-olds who have scarcely ridden in a car, it is apparently a nauseating, terrifying death trip. However, an hour later we arrived at Semillas Tropicales (SETRO) with no vomit in the car. SETRO is a company that collects/distributes/sells/stores high quality seeds of trees utilized for lumber, fruit, and other agroforestry endeavors. We had arrived to attend a workshop with Don Oscar, the owner of the company.