Honduras is a country unlike any I have ever been in. This was initially made clear to me before we had even landed. As we began our descent, there was bright blue ocean water on one side of the plane and tree-covered mountains on the other. As we came closer to the ground, shacks with tin roofs and large plantations started coming into view. The airport was small, but equipped with a dearth of armed guards and full customs inspections upon both entry and departure. We (the two other girls who had flown from Minneapolis with me) spent our first few hours in the country sitting next to a Wendy's in the San Pedro Airport waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. Once they had, we loaded our huge amount of luggage into a truck and piled into two vans for the hour and a half long drive up to Pena Blanca.
Along the way we passed banana, sugar, and coffee plantations, all green and growing. But as the van careened around corners without regard for lane lines and narrowly avoided head on collisions while trying to pass a slow(er) moving vehicle on a two lane road we also saw innumerable shacks, stocked with a random assortments of items, sold desperately by people who have no other source of income.
We passed the lake, the only lake in Honduras, with it's glistening water and drove further up into the mountains wreathed with low floating clouds before coming to the town itself. We received differing population estimates from the driver and assistant principal, but there seems to be about 10.000 people living in this community. Half the streets are paved, the rest are what could diplomatically be called gravel. The buildings are nearly hidden behind signs and more kiosks, but what you can see of them is ramshackled and crumbling. Most of the houses are basically open to the world with only a fence between the street and the living room. But all of this, the gravel, the shacks, the tacky Coca-Cola signs, are surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. The mountains rise up on all sides, cloaked in clouds. The view from our patio is spectacular.
Our house is luxurious compared to the average Honduran's. The girls live in a duplex with a shared backyard, four in one side, 6 in the other. We have a small patio with a hammock out back, a washing machine, 5 bathrooms, and 2 kitchens (although one is currently infested with cockroaches) with basic small appliances. The floors are tiled, and the walls all painted bright yellow and green. We've killed loads of roaches so far which was initially accompanied by loud shrieks, although I suppose we'll get used to them fairly quickly.
We went up to the school today for the first time, but there's enough to say about that to warrant it's own post, so this is all I'll say on the topic: I got exactly the teaching assignment I was hoping for.
Here's my first impression of Honduras: it's a country that needs a lot of love. There were piles of trash along the road, some of them taller than me. There are men lying alongside the road, passed out drunk at 5pm. We can't drink the water, and need to buy it in water cooler size jugs across the alleyway from our front door. With all the misery in the world, Honduras is a country that is often overlooked because it's problems perhaps aren't as dramatic as an Ebola outbreak. But it also seems to be a country that has so much to give, and seeing the potential wasted in the way it is now is heartbreaking.
In all honestly, my initial reaction to our way of life for the next 10 months was apprehension; it's going to be far from the easiness of living in the States. But learning to appreciate a different way of life is part of the reason I wanted to come in the first place. I'm still nervous, but eager to learn.
