Merry Christmas!
December 15, 2001
Merry Christmas and Happy New
Year!
We
would like to begin this letter, by sending a big “Congratulations!” to
Nicole (Shawn’s sister) and Nick (her new fiancé) on their recent December
engagement. We are both so excited
for them. What a great Christmas
surprise!
I just got done baking Lasagna
in my toaster oven! This is a major
accomplishment for the week. Shawn
and I celebrated our "month-a-versary" today and I was proud of myself
for making a gourmet meal. When we
got married on
For starters, Shawn and I
slept in someone's kitchen! While
attending the conference, we stayed with one of 90 families who are
participating in a “Bed and Breakfast” project started by a Peace Corps
volunteer, Peter Von Dor Leep, who is helping the island expand its tourism
industry. Our group was the first to
test out the “Bed and Breakfast” home stay experience.
The simple living conditions reflect the simple standard of living that
is a reality on the island. The
family that Shawn and I stayed with had a small two-room home made of cement.
One room was a living area with a TV and a couple of chairs.
The other room was a kitchen and bedroom all in one.
The family also owned a small wooden shack on the beach that they used
for selling refreshments. While we stayed at their house, the dad, mom and kids
slept on the beach in hammocks. This
“second home” was a sign of wealth on the island.
It cost us $6 per night, per
person, to rent their home. The bed
was clean and accommodating. However,
there was no privacy. The daughter
slept on the living room floor on a straw mat.
Each morning around
The other thing that I wasn't
ready for was the latrine. I am
spoiled in Concepción de Maria with my flush toilet.
Yes, our latrine has a flush toilet, and just the fact that it flushes is
a beautiful thing! As you read on,
you will understand. When we
returned to our "guest home", after our conference sessions and group
dinner, it was dark. Shawn walked
outside with me to find the "bathroom".
To our surprise, the latrine was a cement hole, with a box in the corner
for discarding toilet paper. The
box and rim of the cement opening were crawling with mammoth size cockroaches.
I whimpered and whined and told Shawn that I could hold it.
He told me to pull myself together and proceed with our bathroom mission.
Using the tiny flashlight he keeps on a chain around his neck, he scared
away the roaches and the scorpion that was hunting the roaches.
What would I do without him? I
tried to avoid the smell by using one hand to hold my T-shirt over both my mouth
and nose. This only slightly
protected me from the stench.
Although, they have some work
to do to polish up their services, the experience was intriguing and
eye-opening. We met a very generous
family, had a great time staying by the ocean, and ate fresh seafood each day
for lunch and dinner. During session
breaks we would go swimming (everyone came to the seminars prepared, with
swimsuits under their “professional” Peace Corps attire).
I got to do some hiking and Shawn went fishing one morning.
The most exciting part of the week was seeing a project where people are
bettering their lives. I hope the
dream of increasing tourism on the island will become a reality.
Everything takes time.
We returned to Concepción de
Maria on Friday, December 14th and began preparing for Christmas. My
sister asked me the other day if it feels different here.
Being from
I
decided to finish this letter after Christmas to share how we celebrated the
holidays. This
Christmas we were blessed to celebrate with two different families.
The “Mayorga” family lives up the hill from us.
Rafael is a retired bus driver and his wife, Azusena, is a nurse at the
Christmas
Eve is the popular day to celebrate Christmas in
Jennifer
Maria
is the youngest daughter of the Galinda family.
She was born in November of this year.
She is adorable with her delicate features and pierced ears (a common
Latin American tradition is to pierce the ears of girls soon after birth.)
Gloria, our landlady, gave birth to Jennifer at home.
Shawn and I were astounded and impressed that she had the baby one day
and was outside on our patio the next day hanging up laundry.
I told Shawn not to get any ideas. When
we have children I will take advantage of any extra time in the hospital I can
get.
Gloria’s
parents, who live two doors down from our apartment, also celebrated with us.
After Christmas Eve Mass and turkey dinner, beginning around midnight we
walked around town looking at different nativity scenes people had prepared
outside their homes. We found this
to be a fascinating tradition. Creativity
was definitely encouraged. Children
decorated their “nativity towns” with toy trucks, paper airplanes, baby
dolls, plastic army men, action figures, toy animal statues, roads made from saw
dust, little ponds formed in large bowls, etc.
Somewhere in the grand nativity village Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus could
be found. Jesus was covered by a
blanket and only unveiled after 1:OO AM, when he was believed to be born.
Around the same time, many people filled the streets letting off
firecrackers and rockets as if it were the 4th of July.
[Shawn’s
turn to write]
Speaking
of Christmas….Christmas reminds me family and traditions.
We (the Silveras) spent many Christmases with my Grandma Johnson, who
passed away two years ago. I was
reminded of her yesterday as I made some popcorn as a snack for Jennifer and me.
Since we don’t have a popcorn maker, or microwave, or air popper, I had
to make it in a kettle. As I was
preparing it, a scene from my past flashed into my mind.
When I was about 12 years old, I was at my grandmother’s house making
popcorn. I ended up with a chunky
burnt mess. I remember my grandma
being kind and gentle, telling me that she burned stuff on the stove all the
time. She then told me “You know
Shawn, the best way to make really good popcorn is make sure the oil is really
hot before you add the kernels.” It
is amazing what the mind can remember. As
I was preparing the oil, I apparently let it get too hot and smoke started
rolling out of the kettle. I had to
evacuate the pan outside to keep the house from completely filling up with
smoke. I decided to try again with a
bit more diligence, less heat, and a new kettle.
The results were a great batch of popcorn that was quickly devoured.
I’m pretty sure it turned out so good because I started with “really
hot oil”!
Another
grandparent story relates to Jennifer’s grandparents who were, for many years,
farmers. I visited their farm only
once, but remember thinking that I could be a farmer; lots of hard work, living
off the land, and driving a big tractor, what else could a guy hope for?
I had the chance the other day to get my wish and at least pretend to be
a Honduran farmer.
Here
is a little excerpt from my “Mundane
Page of Daily Activities”
I
got up at 5:30 AM this morning to meet with my neighbor Don Lito who was
gracious enough to invite me along for the morning ritual of “Ordeñando
las vacas” or milking the cows.
Don
Lito and I walked for about five minutes up the road to his pasture. Corralled
in with wooden posts and a barbed wire fence were two huge cows.
Honduran cows are huge, about 1 ½ times the size of a Minnesota cow.
If you remember the old commercial for Schlitz Malt Liquor with the big
huge bull, these are the kind of cows they were.
Don Lito let the first calf out, from a separate corral, to find its
mother for some morning milk.
Cleaning
off the cow’s utter with some water and a washcloth, Don Lito then proceeded
to milk by hand with no stool or anything to sit on.
I gave it a try and found that it was much harder to do than it appeared.
Don Lito had the technique down perfect and shot milk into the bucket
like a machine. My technique needed
some practice and became sporadic as the milk was depleted from the cow.
After
finishing with the first cow, we set a two gallon bucket of milk on the nearby
stone fence. The second cow was a
little different and harder to milk. As
we were milking, Don Lito jumped up and started screaming at the other cow, who
had climbed up on top of a stone troth, used years ago for feeding many more
cows, and had managed to tip over the entire bucket of milk.
Don Lito, in true Honduran farmer fashion, picked up a stick and started
beating the back end of the cow and chasing it around the small field.
He yelled some obscenities in Spanish and told the cow that it was
receiving punishment for tipping over the milk.
Returning
to the task at hand, Don Lito finished filling a much smaller bucket of milk
from the smaller cow. He then looked
at the two gallons that had been spilled on the ground and went back to chasing
the cow with a small stick, whacking it in the hind end whenever he was within
striking distance. I think he
realized how silly he looked because he gave me a big grin when he came back and
we both laughed about the whole thing.
Don
Lito was thrilled to have been the first person to have taught me how to milk a
cow. I told him I would come with
him another day and bring Jennifer with me.
He told me when I go home (to Minnesota) that I will have to convince
Jennifer that we should buy a cow so we don’t have to buy milk.
Since
music is one of our favorite parts of the holiday season, we will end with our
favorite Christmas Carol:
Oh,
Come all Ye Faithful, Joyful and Triumphant.
Oh,
come Ye, oh, come Ye, to Bethlehem.
Come
and behold Him, born the King of angels.
Oh,
come let us adore Him;
Oh,
come let us adore Him;
Oh,
come let us adore Him,
Christ
the Lord!
Blessings to all of you during this Christmas week!