So, my family is normal and actually takes care of their children. However, this is a snapshot of the children that live on my street.
In one house, there is a 4-year-old and a 11-year-old. Their parents abandoned them and went to live in Olancho, on the other side of Honduras. They live with an older brother and sister who look like they are about 14 and 16. No one has heard from the parents and the younger children are not really taken care of. They don’t go to school, either.
In another house, there is a woman who has one son in 6th grade and a daughter who is a little older than me. The daughter has a 5-year-old son who is about the most obnoxious and clingy kid you’ve ever met. He enjoys throwing Chiquitin and kicking Lassie. There’s also a 2-year-old girl and an 8-year-old girl who live there. Their parents, who are somehow related to the women, are in Spain. They send them money, which usually gets used, not for food and clothes for the girls, but for designer clothes for the woman’s biological son. Also, there is a 10-year-old boy that lives with him. When he was a toddler, his dad killed his mom. His dad was in jail for a while, but has evidently been released. He is the sweetest kid, but he is not taken care of well. He has slept on a small mattress in the living room floor for most of his life and only wears hand-me-down clothes. He rarely gets new clothes. The woman sends him on errands and makes him work and doesn’t even pay him. My mom sends him on errands, but pays him so that at least he’ll have some money of his own.
This is just what takes place on my street. Who knows what happens in the rest of Honduras. Maybe this isn´t typical.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Chiquitìn
Chiquitin is my “adopted” kitten. One of my four-year-old neighbors found a kitten in the cemetery and brought it home. However, at their house there is not enough food for the children, let alone a cat. So it was really skinny and running all around the neighborhood looking for food. Every day at lunch he would run in and try to attack our table. But he was so adorable. Our family always gave him food. I gave him a bath yesterday, and now he no longer has fleas.
My host mom jokes that her house is an animal shelter because their cat Mimi was a stray. Lassie, the next door neighbor’s dog always hangs out at our house and eats here because no one loves her or feeds her there. Her sister and her 2 puppies also hang out here sometimes. And now, Chiquitin… I wish I could adopt Chiquitin, but I don’t know if I can have a pet for the first few months in my site because I will be living with a host family. Also, I kind of want a dog for protection. So right now I’m trying to find a family for Chiquitin before I leave. He sleeps in my room because sometimes him and Mimi don’t get along.
I don’t understand why everyone has animals here, if they don’t plan to take care of them. It seems that my family is one of the only families in town that actually takes care of their animals. Most of the dogs and cats here have visible ribs and roam the streets all day where people mostly just yell at them to go away or hit and kick them. I guess it’s because neutering and spaying are non-existent here. Also, since many adults hit and kick animals, many children here think that that’s what you’re supposed to do with animals. They don’t seem to understand that animals obviously have feelings and when you pick up a cat by its neck or a dog by its tail, it hurts them. They just kind of see animals as toys.
r5t-=fd0-
Check out this algebra problem that Chiquitin just typed as he walked across my keyboard. I’m just so proud of my Chiquitin. I´ll send a picture soon.
My host mom jokes that her house is an animal shelter because their cat Mimi was a stray. Lassie, the next door neighbor’s dog always hangs out at our house and eats here because no one loves her or feeds her there. Her sister and her 2 puppies also hang out here sometimes. And now, Chiquitin… I wish I could adopt Chiquitin, but I don’t know if I can have a pet for the first few months in my site because I will be living with a host family. Also, I kind of want a dog for protection. So right now I’m trying to find a family for Chiquitin before I leave. He sleeps in my room because sometimes him and Mimi don’t get along.
I don’t understand why everyone has animals here, if they don’t plan to take care of them. It seems that my family is one of the only families in town that actually takes care of their animals. Most of the dogs and cats here have visible ribs and roam the streets all day where people mostly just yell at them to go away or hit and kick them. I guess it’s because neutering and spaying are non-existent here. Also, since many adults hit and kick animals, many children here think that that’s what you’re supposed to do with animals. They don’t seem to understand that animals obviously have feelings and when you pick up a cat by its neck or a dog by its tail, it hurts them. They just kind of see animals as toys.
r5t-=fd0-
Check out this algebra problem that Chiquitin just typed as he walked across my keyboard. I’m just so proud of my Chiquitin. I´ll send a picture soon.
Me vs. Honduran Laundry = I lose
So, every week, I spend at least 3 hours washing clothes on a washboard. Here’s the process: I put some powder laundry detergent in a bucket (the same bucket I use for the bucket shower). Then I add water and all of my dirty clothes. I mix them up and then I let them sit for 10-15 minutes. Then, one piece of clothing at a time I wash them by hand on the washboard. I put some crazy strong blue stick soap all over the inside and outside of my clothes, pour some water over them and scrub like crazy. It’s really hard to get out all of the soap while at the same time not using too much water. When the soap finally comes out and/or I’m tired of scrubbing the piece of clothing, I deem it clean and hang it on a clothesline outside. My host mom takes pity on me and often she just takes over my laundry because I’m so slow/bad at doing it. I guess she figures that I keep the kids busy playing cards and doing crafts every afternoon, so she doesn´t have to worry about keeping them occupied. It´s sort of an exchange program. She rests while I play with the kids and I rest while she does laundry. Gracias Mama Mechey!
I love Cantarranas!
I absolutely LOVE Cantarranas! I wish I could sum up how much I love it in a blog entry. But I don’t think that it would be possible. I hope I have a site like it. The people are so nice and it is so pretty here that I don’t even care that there is no internet and few locally-available fruits and vegetables. If I lived in a site like this, I would be happy to eat only beans, rice and tortillas. I’ve really integrated into my neighborhood. The other trainees call me Mother Goose because I always have 10-15 children following my around. It’s always a good time minus the 8 hours of class everyday.
What I´ve been doing
So, I just realized that I haven’t been writing much about what I’ve been doing here in Honduras. So you may think that I only get bitten by bugs, play UNO and tag and perhaps, sit around on the beach all day eating mangoes and drinking out of coconuts. Not true.
I actually have over 8 hours of classes everyday. After my panqueques and my bucket shower, I start classes at 7:30. I have 4 hours of Spanish classes and 4 hours of “tech” classes. I’m in the Advanced Spanish class, so we have 3 days of actual classes every week and 2 days to go do projects in the community. “Tech” classes are to learn more about the types of projects that we can do in our sites (the communities where we will live for 2 years). We learn about a program, project or topic that we could do in our communities and then the next day we have a practice run in a community or village.
So, so far these are the projects that I have done:
-My friend Anne and I go to the mountain aldea (village) of Trujillito once a week to do recreational and art projects and to teach environmental education and a parenting class. Trujillito has a one-room school with grades 1-6 and only one teacher! There are about 35 students who are mostly relatives. We do crafts with recycled materials, plant trees and play outside games like Ultimate Frisbee, duck duck goose, jump rope, tag, etc. We also do self-esteem building activities. Monday will be our last day there. It also happens to be Day of the Child a HUGE holiday here in Honduras. Evidently, the parents and teachers get together and make a big meal for all of the kids and organize a big fiesta with games, dances and, of course, piñatas.
-Gave self-esteem charla (talk/presentation) to 9th graders in Valle de Angeles
-Taught Business Skills (a Jr. Achievement Program) to 5th and 6th graders in Nueva Esperanza
-Supervised 2nd grade English teacher and organized supplemental English teaching games and activities in Villa de San Francisco
-Gave HIV/AIDs workshop to 9th grade class at high school in Cantarranas. This was a 4-hour workshop. It was actually really fun. We played lots of games and taught the kids about how HIV/AIDs is transmitted and how it is not. There is a huge stigma against people with HIV/AIDs in Honduras. For example, many people won’t rent or sell houses to people with HIV/AIDs or employ them. The problem is that people think that it is highly contagious and is passed by touching people. Also, Honduras is very homophobic and everyone believes that AIDs is a “gay disease” although like 86% of cases in Honduras are from heterosexual to heterosexual contact.
The last part of the workshop was a condom demonstration with plantains. As I had the highest level of Spanish in my group, I got to lead this. In the US, I would probably have been mortified to do something like this, but here in Honduras, which has 60% of the HIV/AIDs cases in Central America, things like this are so important. So you have to act very normal doing it or the kids will sense that you are not comfortable and they will therefore think that they should also not be comfortable doing it.
I felt like we really made a difference in the kids lives. In the middle of the workshop we gave everyone a piece of paper to ask anonymous questions. We received multiple questions about how to use a condom and we received one note that said, “HIV/AIDs is a very important subject. Thank you so much for coming to talk to us about it.” In Honduras sex-ed is very taboo. Birth control pills are extremely rare due to religious reasons and their restrictive cost. Condoms are also rarely used. There are many myths about how to avoid pregnancy and relative ignorance about STIs. I will definitely use this workshop in my site.
-I also do a story hour once a week for children in Cantarranas. In the US, we are so accustomed to the presence of books in our schools, libraries and homes that we don’t even think about what a big privilege it is so have them. In Honduras, books are expensive, so no one reads. Why read a book that costs more than your electric bill when you could watch TV all day long for almost nothing? There is little emphasis on reading materials outside of textbooks in Honduras schools. In Honduras there are libraries, but you cannot check out their books. You can only read the books within the library. Bummer. Most of the books are really old or outdated. The reason that the library doesn’t check out books is because 1. “people might steal them” and 2. “the kids will ruin them.” The kids absolutely LOVE books. No one ever reads them book because no one ever has books to read.
One day, the librarian let me check out books (outside the library!) because I was a gringa and she assumed that I probably wouldn’t steal or ruin the books. That night I read a bunch of books to my brother and sisters and then they started reading them. They were so excited and asked my questions like, “I can touch it, really?” Then we did lots of drawings and stuff.
That’s another thing. Creativity is not valued in Honduras. The Honduran education is based on dictation. The teacher writes something and then the kids copy it off the board. The kids read a reading passage and then they copy answers to questions straight out of the book. Critical thinking and problem-solving are not emphasized. Perfection takes priority over originality. Kids are not supposed to freehand draw because their drawings would be “ugly”. When I first try to get kids to draw they ALL tell me, “I can’t draw. Please draw me something.” Also, if they do draw anything at all, they trace it. Teachers rarely put their students’ artwork on the classroom walls here as they think that it is “ugly.” Often all of the drawings and other decorations around the classrooms are made by the teachers. Also, Hondurans use rulers to draw everything. They would never attempt to draw a line without one. It might be “drawn wrong”. Everything is very black and white and right and wrong here.
-I also do a variety of art projects with neighborhood children such as puppet-making, collages, origami, sidewalk chalk (thanks Mom and Dad!) and drawing. It's really fun! The kids don`t ever get to art projects because they don´t have any arts supplies because they are expensive. The locally available variety are not only expensive, but they are of the worst quality.
-I also spend a lot of my free time at the kindergarten. Whenever we get out of class early or it´s cancelled because of the weather, I go to the kindergarten and help out the teacher. The teacher is really cool, but he has about 40 students between the ages 3 and 6, which makes it a pretty tough job. My job is to help get the kids excited about the activities and to teach them games and songs. And of course give hugs.
-Also I have learned how to organize girl empowerment programs, healthy living programs, sports leagues, etc.
So, yeah, I actually do stuff besides get bitten by enormous bugs and get my cards confiscated by the local police.
I actually have over 8 hours of classes everyday. After my panqueques and my bucket shower, I start classes at 7:30. I have 4 hours of Spanish classes and 4 hours of “tech” classes. I’m in the Advanced Spanish class, so we have 3 days of actual classes every week and 2 days to go do projects in the community. “Tech” classes are to learn more about the types of projects that we can do in our sites (the communities where we will live for 2 years). We learn about a program, project or topic that we could do in our communities and then the next day we have a practice run in a community or village.
So, so far these are the projects that I have done:
-My friend Anne and I go to the mountain aldea (village) of Trujillito once a week to do recreational and art projects and to teach environmental education and a parenting class. Trujillito has a one-room school with grades 1-6 and only one teacher! There are about 35 students who are mostly relatives. We do crafts with recycled materials, plant trees and play outside games like Ultimate Frisbee, duck duck goose, jump rope, tag, etc. We also do self-esteem building activities. Monday will be our last day there. It also happens to be Day of the Child a HUGE holiday here in Honduras. Evidently, the parents and teachers get together and make a big meal for all of the kids and organize a big fiesta with games, dances and, of course, piñatas.
-Gave self-esteem charla (talk/presentation) to 9th graders in Valle de Angeles
-Taught Business Skills (a Jr. Achievement Program) to 5th and 6th graders in Nueva Esperanza
-Supervised 2nd grade English teacher and organized supplemental English teaching games and activities in Villa de San Francisco
-Gave HIV/AIDs workshop to 9th grade class at high school in Cantarranas. This was a 4-hour workshop. It was actually really fun. We played lots of games and taught the kids about how HIV/AIDs is transmitted and how it is not. There is a huge stigma against people with HIV/AIDs in Honduras. For example, many people won’t rent or sell houses to people with HIV/AIDs or employ them. The problem is that people think that it is highly contagious and is passed by touching people. Also, Honduras is very homophobic and everyone believes that AIDs is a “gay disease” although like 86% of cases in Honduras are from heterosexual to heterosexual contact.
The last part of the workshop was a condom demonstration with plantains. As I had the highest level of Spanish in my group, I got to lead this. In the US, I would probably have been mortified to do something like this, but here in Honduras, which has 60% of the HIV/AIDs cases in Central America, things like this are so important. So you have to act very normal doing it or the kids will sense that you are not comfortable and they will therefore think that they should also not be comfortable doing it.
I felt like we really made a difference in the kids lives. In the middle of the workshop we gave everyone a piece of paper to ask anonymous questions. We received multiple questions about how to use a condom and we received one note that said, “HIV/AIDs is a very important subject. Thank you so much for coming to talk to us about it.” In Honduras sex-ed is very taboo. Birth control pills are extremely rare due to religious reasons and their restrictive cost. Condoms are also rarely used. There are many myths about how to avoid pregnancy and relative ignorance about STIs. I will definitely use this workshop in my site.
-I also do a story hour once a week for children in Cantarranas. In the US, we are so accustomed to the presence of books in our schools, libraries and homes that we don’t even think about what a big privilege it is so have them. In Honduras, books are expensive, so no one reads. Why read a book that costs more than your electric bill when you could watch TV all day long for almost nothing? There is little emphasis on reading materials outside of textbooks in Honduras schools. In Honduras there are libraries, but you cannot check out their books. You can only read the books within the library. Bummer. Most of the books are really old or outdated. The reason that the library doesn’t check out books is because 1. “people might steal them” and 2. “the kids will ruin them.” The kids absolutely LOVE books. No one ever reads them book because no one ever has books to read.
One day, the librarian let me check out books (outside the library!) because I was a gringa and she assumed that I probably wouldn’t steal or ruin the books. That night I read a bunch of books to my brother and sisters and then they started reading them. They were so excited and asked my questions like, “I can touch it, really?” Then we did lots of drawings and stuff.
That’s another thing. Creativity is not valued in Honduras. The Honduran education is based on dictation. The teacher writes something and then the kids copy it off the board. The kids read a reading passage and then they copy answers to questions straight out of the book. Critical thinking and problem-solving are not emphasized. Perfection takes priority over originality. Kids are not supposed to freehand draw because their drawings would be “ugly”. When I first try to get kids to draw they ALL tell me, “I can’t draw. Please draw me something.” Also, if they do draw anything at all, they trace it. Teachers rarely put their students’ artwork on the classroom walls here as they think that it is “ugly.” Often all of the drawings and other decorations around the classrooms are made by the teachers. Also, Hondurans use rulers to draw everything. They would never attempt to draw a line without one. It might be “drawn wrong”. Everything is very black and white and right and wrong here.
-I also do a variety of art projects with neighborhood children such as puppet-making, collages, origami, sidewalk chalk (thanks Mom and Dad!) and drawing. It's really fun! The kids don`t ever get to art projects because they don´t have any arts supplies because they are expensive. The locally available variety are not only expensive, but they are of the worst quality.
-I also spend a lot of my free time at the kindergarten. Whenever we get out of class early or it´s cancelled because of the weather, I go to the kindergarten and help out the teacher. The teacher is really cool, but he has about 40 students between the ages 3 and 6, which makes it a pretty tough job. My job is to help get the kids excited about the activities and to teach them games and songs. And of course give hugs.
-Also I have learned how to organize girl empowerment programs, healthy living programs, sports leagues, etc.
So, yeah, I actually do stuff besides get bitten by enormous bugs and get my cards confiscated by the local police.
I´m fine. The Hurricane Didn´t Hit Me.
I am fine. Hurricane Felix went from a Class 5 to a Tropical Storm in Honduras. The eye of the storm was supposed to go through Teguz, so I did pack an emergency evacuation backpack. Luckily I didn´t have to use it. It just rained a little bit here and the kids didn´t have school for two days just in case. I guess Nicaragua wasn´t so lucky. Also, where I live is really safe because it isn´t near the river or close to the mudslides.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Photos of Cantarranas
The first photo is of Cantarranas near my house.
The second photo is of my sister Kensy, my cousins Angie and Victor and my sister Scarleth.
The third photo is of my brother Olvin catching ants with the bugzooka. I'll put up more later...
Cards are Evil and Illegal
So the other day I had a storytelling hour in the library with a group of kids. I read a book to them and then we drew scenes from the story on big pieces of paper. (Kids don't get to draw or do very many creative things here, partly because of a lack of resources and partly because creativity is not encouraged). Also, you are not allowed to check books out at the library. You are only allowed to read them inside the library. The reason why: the kids with ruin the books or steal them.
So anyway, after story hour, I went to the park with a group of 15 kids to play soccer, jump rope and cards (UNO and Go Fish). I was playing UNO with one group of kids, but the other group of kids wanted to play Go Fish so I gave them the cards. They were playing Go Fish (with normal cards, as I don´t have special Go Fish cards) and then about 5 minutes later I heard someone yelling loudly, "Whose cards are these!" I turned around and all of the children were running away in fear.
The person yelling was a policeman. I told him that they were my cards. I thought that he had thought that the kids stole them from me or something. But what he told me surprised me. "It is prohibited for minors to play cards!" What? I was quite confused. The young arrogant policeman told me that cards are addictive and children steal money in order to play cards. That sounded quite stupid and nonsensical to me. I told him that we were not playing with money and that we were playing children´s games. I explained that UNO helped children learn numbers and colors and that Go Fish helped with memory. He approved of UNO because it is a game of "cartas", but did not approve of Go Fish, which is a game of "naipes" (the difference between cartas and naipes is that naipes have kings, queens, jacks, etc.). He gave me back my cards and didn't take me to jail.
How ridiculous? The police is concerned about kids playing cards (as there are few toys or games here, this is one of the only sources of entertainment for kids) but they are evidently not concerned with the million bolos walking down the street. And he made this scene in front of like 50 people. Then he went to teach a group of children how to march for the independence day parade. They all had fake rifles and he was using his real glock or whatever huge bazooka gun he had to show the moves. How tacky! So cards are definitely more dangerous than guns... I was angry. He said that people would criticize me because I was playing cards. Good thing everyone plays cards in their houses here, hate the police and like me.
So anyway, after story hour, I went to the park with a group of 15 kids to play soccer, jump rope and cards (UNO and Go Fish). I was playing UNO with one group of kids, but the other group of kids wanted to play Go Fish so I gave them the cards. They were playing Go Fish (with normal cards, as I don´t have special Go Fish cards) and then about 5 minutes later I heard someone yelling loudly, "Whose cards are these!" I turned around and all of the children were running away in fear.
The person yelling was a policeman. I told him that they were my cards. I thought that he had thought that the kids stole them from me or something. But what he told me surprised me. "It is prohibited for minors to play cards!" What? I was quite confused. The young arrogant policeman told me that cards are addictive and children steal money in order to play cards. That sounded quite stupid and nonsensical to me. I told him that we were not playing with money and that we were playing children´s games. I explained that UNO helped children learn numbers and colors and that Go Fish helped with memory. He approved of UNO because it is a game of "cartas", but did not approve of Go Fish, which is a game of "naipes" (the difference between cartas and naipes is that naipes have kings, queens, jacks, etc.). He gave me back my cards and didn't take me to jail.
How ridiculous? The police is concerned about kids playing cards (as there are few toys or games here, this is one of the only sources of entertainment for kids) but they are evidently not concerned with the million bolos walking down the street. And he made this scene in front of like 50 people. Then he went to teach a group of children how to march for the independence day parade. They all had fake rifles and he was using his real glock or whatever huge bazooka gun he had to show the moves. How tacky! So cards are definitely more dangerous than guns... I was angry. He said that people would criticize me because I was playing cards. Good thing everyone plays cards in their houses here, hate the police and like me.
Super Bolo Sundays
In Honduras, drunks have a name: Bolo. In Honduras there is no such thing as drinking socially or drinking in moderation. No, there is only not drinking and getting wasted. If you are drinking at all, you are drinking to get completely plastered. Although some Hondurans may get drunk at parties or at bars, bolos are a special breed of drinkers as they are completely plastered all the time. They walk the street in a drunken daze at all hours of the night and day. Every once in a while, they pass out on the sidewalk in some distorted position and wet themselves. Some of them carry machetes, although the majority of them are probably harmless. However, you don’t want to meet a bolo in the street, if you can avoid it. Whenever I see one in the street I get the same feeling as when I meet a vicious dog in the street. Bolos sort of remind me of zombies. They are not your happy drunks. If you look at their eyes they are both empty and piercing at the same time. They stumble down the street, but no one’s home.
In Honduras, kids have no need for a boogeyman. They already have real boogeymen-- bolos. So, when my family wants my 2-year-old cousins to come inside and she refuses to do it, they say, “Here comes a bolo!” and after a terrified look around the street, she sprints inside.
In Cantarranas there is a relatively large bolo population. In Santa Lucia there were a few bolos, but they fit the happy drunk character more than the boogeyman zombie character. I never saw one passed out in the street and the 3 bolos that I did see would just sit there and yell out bits of nonsense. One day these 2 bolos were sitting on a wall on my street and one yelled out in a slurred sing song voice in Spanglish, “Hello! In your country they call you gringo!” It was a pretty hilarious sight, as the bolos were laughing so hard afterwards that they nearly fell off the wall.
However, I would say that I have seen probably 15 bolos in Cantarranas. Fortunately, they don’t live in my neighborhood. Every once in a while we’ll get a stray bolo who has inadvertently wandered away from bolo territory. My family lives in the Parte Abajo (the part of the town down the hill) and the bolos generally hang out in the Parte Arriba (the part of town up the hill). The unofficial border that sets off bolo territory is the central park. Below the park, the town is mostly residential with dirt roads. This is where I live. There are just a few stray bolos here. Above the park, the town is more commercialized and there is a pool hall, which hosts some bolos until they wander out of the pool hall or get kicked out. There is one street which I call Bolo Alley, as there are always at least 3 bolos passed out in the street and a host of other bolos who are somehow still standing, but probably on the verge of passing out.
One day, I was walking down Bolo Alley with my host mom, aunt and 2-year-old cousin, Dulce Maria. As we passed bolos, she made comments in a very frank voice. “He fell down,” she said as we passed a bolo passed out on the sidewalk face down. “He is sleeping,” she said as we passed another sprawled out in a distorted position. “He peed his pants,” she said as we passed the third bolo in a one block distance, this one with a puddle of urine beneath him.
I am very fortunate to live in non-bolo territory. I live in pot-smoker territory, but they generally just sit on the steps to the cemetery and keep to themselves. One of my friends lives in bolo territory and one morning he opened the front door and there was a passed out bolo on his doorstep.
Lately, we have had some stray bolos. Yesterday morning at 5 am I heard a knock on my window. I woke up and looked outside. There was a bolo with a cowboy hat on our porch staring at me. At first, I didn’t realize it was a bolo and thought that there might be some type of emergency. The bolo asked if Mechey, my host mom, was home. I thought it was an emergency, so I woke her up. She didn’t know the guy and chewed him out with some choice words for knocking on my window at 5 am. It was pretty funny. Don’t worry. My windows are covered by iron bars and our doors double lock.
On a completely unrelated, or perhaps related note, the neighbors down the street told us that they had seen some bolos on our porch and the porch of one of our other neighbors in the middle of the night. This freaked out my host mom and aunt. Our bathroom is not connected to our house and you have to go outside in our backyard to reach it. My host mom said that she didn’t want anyone to leave the house unaccompanied at night, so she said that everyone had to use a bedpan. So I have a bedpan. Thankfully, I didn’t have to use it last night. She also posted the police number on the wall in case any of us saw something suspicious.
There are bolos everywhere in Honduras, but some cities just happen to have more than others. For example, La Esperanza, a city in the mountains in the province of Intibuca, is full of bolos, especially on weekends and especially on Sundays. The Peace Corps Volunteers there call Sundays “Super Bolo Sundays” because there is such a large bolo population.
(Note: I wrote this last week. The stray bolo situation is now under control. No more bedpans.)
In Honduras, kids have no need for a boogeyman. They already have real boogeymen-- bolos. So, when my family wants my 2-year-old cousins to come inside and she refuses to do it, they say, “Here comes a bolo!” and after a terrified look around the street, she sprints inside.
In Cantarranas there is a relatively large bolo population. In Santa Lucia there were a few bolos, but they fit the happy drunk character more than the boogeyman zombie character. I never saw one passed out in the street and the 3 bolos that I did see would just sit there and yell out bits of nonsense. One day these 2 bolos were sitting on a wall on my street and one yelled out in a slurred sing song voice in Spanglish, “Hello! In your country they call you gringo!” It was a pretty hilarious sight, as the bolos were laughing so hard afterwards that they nearly fell off the wall.
However, I would say that I have seen probably 15 bolos in Cantarranas. Fortunately, they don’t live in my neighborhood. Every once in a while we’ll get a stray bolo who has inadvertently wandered away from bolo territory. My family lives in the Parte Abajo (the part of the town down the hill) and the bolos generally hang out in the Parte Arriba (the part of town up the hill). The unofficial border that sets off bolo territory is the central park. Below the park, the town is mostly residential with dirt roads. This is where I live. There are just a few stray bolos here. Above the park, the town is more commercialized and there is a pool hall, which hosts some bolos until they wander out of the pool hall or get kicked out. There is one street which I call Bolo Alley, as there are always at least 3 bolos passed out in the street and a host of other bolos who are somehow still standing, but probably on the verge of passing out.
One day, I was walking down Bolo Alley with my host mom, aunt and 2-year-old cousin, Dulce Maria. As we passed bolos, she made comments in a very frank voice. “He fell down,” she said as we passed a bolo passed out on the sidewalk face down. “He is sleeping,” she said as we passed another sprawled out in a distorted position. “He peed his pants,” she said as we passed the third bolo in a one block distance, this one with a puddle of urine beneath him.
I am very fortunate to live in non-bolo territory. I live in pot-smoker territory, but they generally just sit on the steps to the cemetery and keep to themselves. One of my friends lives in bolo territory and one morning he opened the front door and there was a passed out bolo on his doorstep.
Lately, we have had some stray bolos. Yesterday morning at 5 am I heard a knock on my window. I woke up and looked outside. There was a bolo with a cowboy hat on our porch staring at me. At first, I didn’t realize it was a bolo and thought that there might be some type of emergency. The bolo asked if Mechey, my host mom, was home. I thought it was an emergency, so I woke her up. She didn’t know the guy and chewed him out with some choice words for knocking on my window at 5 am. It was pretty funny. Don’t worry. My windows are covered by iron bars and our doors double lock.
On a completely unrelated, or perhaps related note, the neighbors down the street told us that they had seen some bolos on our porch and the porch of one of our other neighbors in the middle of the night. This freaked out my host mom and aunt. Our bathroom is not connected to our house and you have to go outside in our backyard to reach it. My host mom said that she didn’t want anyone to leave the house unaccompanied at night, so she said that everyone had to use a bedpan. So I have a bedpan. Thankfully, I didn’t have to use it last night. She also posted the police number on the wall in case any of us saw something suspicious.
There are bolos everywhere in Honduras, but some cities just happen to have more than others. For example, La Esperanza, a city in the mountains in the province of Intibuca, is full of bolos, especially on weekends and especially on Sundays. The Peace Corps Volunteers there call Sundays “Super Bolo Sundays” because there is such a large bolo population.
(Note: I wrote this last week. The stray bolo situation is now under control. No more bedpans.)
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