Even as I begin to adjust to life here in Honduras, every once in awhile I catch myself and realize that my surroundings, my activities, and experiences everyday here are unlike anything I would be able to do anywhere else. Whether it be the beautiful mountain drive to the hot springs, being able to navigate my way to the best local Pupuseria (a great local food we´ve discovered) from anywhere in the city, or learning a Honduran perspective on both US and Honduran politics. I think slowly the comfort zones of everyone in our group have expanded and will continue to do so as we continue our travels and eventually find work and friends in Yorito. Despite minor setbacks like attempting to navigate a bathroom in complete darkness (due to occasional power losses) and a general lack of clean clothes, we´re still foraging ahead and loving every minute of it!
Quito is absolutely beautiful! The airport is situated right next to the city, so you get a good feel for it as soon as you land. It’s awesome how houses and buildings line the mountainside, with active volcanoes surrounding the area and white snowy peaks in the distance. We’re at 10,000 feet now, but luckily, none of us have gotten altitude sickness..
The day we arrived, we settled into our apartments, which are very nice, especially for Ecuador standards. The women in charge of the organization (Alicia, Triple Salto’s president, and Tachi, Triple Salto’s project coordinator) are sisters and live in the house right in front of our apts. They are wonderful! They’ve been showing us around and giving us advice on places to go and everything. Tachi gave us a tour around the neighborhood and city, so that we could get to know the area.
Yesterday, we were invited to a delicious breakfast in their home. Afterwards, we all went to the Ecuadorian government’s economic development agency (ConQuito) to learn about the urban agriculture projects the government has been coordinating, with Triple Salto as the facilitator. Then, we were able to visit one of the agriculture projects that had been implemented recently with a local school. It was hidden away from the main road, on a mountainside, with two plateaus of vegetable gardens and two large greenhouses filled mainly with tomato plants. All of the plants looked almost perfect. It was amazing how productive such a small space could be!
We also visited the famous Old Town, which includes government buildings and churches, all of a unique architecture. One of the women working with Triple Salto, Avivanna, was our unofficial tour guide, and took us to all the best spots.
Today, Ivan and I went with Alicia and some ConQuito staff members to buy the construction supplies for the greenhouses and wormeries and the painting supplies for the school murals. Molly and Cathy went on an adventure to find a bank that would exchange large bills for smaller ones, since the majority of places here only take 5′s, 1′s, and change.
The food here is great and surprisingly varied. Already, we’ve had traditional dishes, seafood, Indian, and French. No worries, we are eating well!
The public transportation system in Quito is very convenient. Trolley buses run north and south through the city, come every 2 minutes, and only cost 25 cents, for whatever distance. When using this type of transportation, we have to be careful and alert though because unfortunately, a culture of theft exists. Luckily, taxis here are much cheaper than the U.S., so we’ve been utilizing those as much as possible!
Will write again soon!
Love from Ecuador,
Hello friends and family,
The packing has commenced, the excitement is building, and the first few UVAers are preparing themselves for the long trip to Quito Wednesday.
We will be living in the heart of the city, in an apartment supplied by Alicia, the director of Triple Salto (our partner organization). We will have access to internet and will be bringing a couple computers, so we will be able to answer your emails and skype. Just be sure to check this blog! We will likely update it every few days.
The plan is to work on two urban projects at public schools in Quito; constructing greenhouses, planting orchards, and teaching children the importance of agriculture and nutrition.
Our free time on the weekends will be spent immersing ourselves in the culture, traveling in and around the city, and experiencing what Ecuador has to offer.
Thank you so much for your support of Nourish International in the past and the future!
Off we go!!!
-Lauren (Project Leader)
The curiosity of children is contagious, but it seems to die with age.
In San Isidro, when one child appears with a plastic bag and a
purpose, surely about fifteen others will follow. It´s a sense of
community that only children are capable of.
Last Friday, we organized a small trash-pick-up activity along the
streets of the town to teach the children about littering and to clean
up about three years of potato chip bags and candy wrappers trapped in gullies, sewers, and pot holes.
After putting up an announcement in the one store in town, three
children showed up at 2:00 p.m. ready to get messy. Within ten
minutes, the rest of the town´s children came to see what all the fuss
was about. Soon after, twenty children were scouring the dirt roads
and grassy banks of San Isidro with plastic bags overflowing with
trash and hands caked with dirt. In just thirty minutes they
collected 14 trash bags worth of litter, litter that these same
children had contributed to, and they admitted it.
Looking at all that trash made me sick, because I knew it would only
enter the atmosphere as methane, sulfur dioxide, and carbon dioxide.
Four days later, two children stood outside our property with shovels
in hand, ready to dig a grave for the trash. We´d invited them to
demonstrate a more environmentally-friendly alternative to burning
every scrap of trash and polluting the blue, mountain skies.
As we began to dig, curiosity served us well. By the time we were
ready to bury the trash, about 7 shovels and 14 children taking turns
with them were covered in dirt, singing Enrique Iglesias, and learning
But we were slow. Eight year olds aren´t exactly the best at using a
pick-axe, and ten year olds are a little weak when it comes to picking
up a shovel-full of dirt.
Yet that day, a group of children working together, learning together,
laughing together, drew the rare curiosity of an adult. Busy with her
eight-month-old baby boy, her corn fields, her five other children,
and her jelly-making business, the last thing Lupe needed to do was
come up to the house in her pretty green skirt and black heels and
take up the pick-axe. But she did.
She broke more rock than 14 children and three gringos put together,
the muscles in her arms straining, her black hair glistening with
sweat on her temple. We applauded her when the hole was deep enough, and she watched with a smile on her face as the children, two of whom were hers, jumped into the pit, dancing to compact the trash. She looked on as we covered it with soil, and as the children thought to plant a make-shift wooden cross and put white flowers on the grave of our community litter.
We always hope that the activities we do with the children will be
passed onto their parents at the dinner table, but to have adults and
children working together is the best way to get anything done, to
learn, and to enjoy ourselves as a community, as a family.
As we were washing our hands, a few of the children ran off to climb a
mango tree, and it began raining mangos. We sat around sucking the
sweet, yellow flesh off the pits, chatting about what we learned,
boasting together of our successful community effort, feeling closer
Vallecillo and Yorito mingle at the Fair.
Admiring the hand-made clay pots.
FIPAH staff (including President Jose Jimenez, pictured on the right) serve free lunch to fair-goers.
Blast from the past: the crews of Otoro and Vallecillo depart La Ceiba.
Our Yorito-Isote-Jalapa-Wisilka-Sabana-Destino teaching program has been going excellently. It has been a joy to work with the facilitators and youth here. They have absorbed us completely into their work, including CIAL projects and activities. I wish to tell you all (yes, kind reader who checks the blog) about Rachel and I’s afternoon last Thursday with a youth CIAL from Yorito that was unforgettable.
It began strangely, when the facilitator called and said we would not be having class, but should instead meet at her house. We waited to be picked up, and two girls from her class walked over to the apartment to meet us. We joined them and were off to the facilitator’s, which was just up the street, close by. We passed into a neighborhood of Yorito we had never explored, and it was great to see the houses just off the center of town. When we arrived at the facilitator’s home, we saw the results of the project that had taken them the day to execute: tiny pots of clay were spread out on a makeshift table, all fashioned from locally harvested clay. They will be the stages on which to showcase the seed varieties the CIAL has acquired for the Feria de Semillas (Seed Fair) at FIPAH on Monday. The Yorito youth CIAL hopes to win the prize for best presentation.
Each tiny cup could hold perhaps a handful or two of seeds – a good thing, since this CIAL alone hopes to present four varieties of rice and many kinds of beans (amongst other species), some heirloom varieties. I don’t doubt that they can and will fill each of the dozens of pots with a unique seed. Their knowledge of not just agriculture, but flora in general, is impressive. They can point out species of mango from trees off a path, or recognize that a farmer is growing coffee just from the small sprouts in her/his garden.
After gazing at the pots and observing the students mould them for a bit, we were asked if we wanted to go on a hike to gather more clay. Immediately we accepted, and set off with three boys and a young woman from class. One of them, who is particularly excitable when it comes to English, was bouncing around identifying fruits, trees, crops, everything. Another was tossing his machete between his hands, occasionally coming down with a slash onto a tree stump or thrusting into a discarded soda bottle (yes, garbage even litters the hillside trails). I am awed by their knowledge, and it brightens me to see a new generation interested in the complexities of agri-awesomeness. We walk for about twenty minutes uphill, and come upon two more young ladies from the class – one a teenager and the other a young mother. They carry two mounds of clay, which has to be hacked from its source with a machete. They stop to rest for a bit at the crossroads with us, then tell the boys to go acquire more clay while we all go on a tour of nearby sites. First, we are taken on a short walk to the land of a man who is our facilitator’s partner, and who has small ponds in his yard. We climb over wood laid across deep puddles (makeshift bridges) to get to his parcela, where there is a rectangular plot they call a lagoon, full of fairly small fish. Every now and then they flop at the surface and we look excitedly, scrutinizing the surface for another glimpse. Eventually, the climb back over the puddles and mini-lakes as they call them, just having a relaxing and adventurous afternoon.
Next, the girls decide they will take us to see a freshwater spring where people often go to bathe. The young mom tells us there is a spout of water so fresh, cold, and clear that you can drink from it (at this, Rachel and I exchange nervous, knowing smiles). We join the on the path to this brook, pausing at a woman’s farm to drop off our clay under her watchful gaze. Before long we are at the rocks of the water, climbing upstream to the place that our friend spoke of. We reach a small waterfall, where there are various little springs of water seemingly drilled into the earth. Our friend insists the water is pure, naturally filtered into a drinkable state. We oblige, and take sips of the water (it was quite good). I dip my feet and sandals into a little current, and the feeling is blissful. We depart from the water source, content with our explorations. Rachel heaves the pot full of clay onto her head, while I hold mine to my torso, arms wrapped securely around. Away we go on the return to the facilitator’s house.
On the way, the girls have posed many questions about English and where we live. They tell us of their lives, while Rachel and I listen and respond intently. It feels great to bond with the students and to feel mutually less intimidated by the curiosity for each others’ origins. Near our final destination, our older friend insists that we must have mangoes at her house. On the return path, we stop at a white-washed house to our right. Our student makes her way in and returns with a little boy beside her, shirtless and serious in his too-high pants. He looks at us like we are extraterrestrials (not uncommon) and after some persistent waving on my behalf, he returns a brief wave before scampering off. Our friend beckons us to come on in, and we climb the carved earth steps into her home. To our left is a room in which sits her father, who greets us warmly, and to the right is a kitchen, where her sister stands over a mud oven. Our friend waves us in and asks if we would like coffee and tortillas. Not wanting decline their generous (and delicious) welcome, we agree to have some, on the condition that we can help. Honestly, we had been dying to learn how to make and toast our own tortillas ever since first watching how wonderfully the Doña with baleadas made hers. I asked our friend’s sister if she could teach us how to make them. She grabbed two balls of the flour dough and handed each of us one. It was white and very sticky, but easily malleable. At one point we were each given a dab of butter to lather over our hands to prevent the dough from sticking. Her sister was rotating the disks between her fingers, flattening them with enviable ease. We tried with the ultimate effort to imitate her, but failed. After doing our best to make them thin, even, and circular, we decided to go with what we had and threw them onto the hot stove above the oven. I tried flipping mine, but my hand felt heavy and confused so close to the flame, completely unlike the technique of the women. The sister would snatch an edge of the tortilla up and have it upside-down in the blink of an eye.
As we finished the tortillas, we sat and enjoyed their delicious, local coffee. Their generosity is immense and I couldn’t believe how the afternoon had turned out so fantastically. We returned to the facilitator’s soon afterward, and dug into the clay. The raw earth first must be refined with water and much crumbling by hand. Eventually, all of the clumps were worked out and the clay was in good condition to be shaped. It was a repeat of the earlier tortilla-making attempt: we tried to make small bowls with a flat bottom and even width, just like the girls around us, but could not succeed (yes, it was hilarious). It is harder than you could imagine using only your hands and a bit of water. Eventually, we got our clay to form into a semblance of the other finished products, though they were… interesting. Seeing all of them laid out on the table, ready to be filled with seeds, was impressive.
We finished the project, washed our hands clean of the clay (forgetting our elbows and legs, of course), and left the facilitator’s house in a total daze. It was unreal that we had just spent the entire afternoon bonding with the CIAL, able to enjoy their company with a reversed teacher-student dynamic: they awed us with their plant identification prowess, tortilla -and pot-making skills, and their absolute knowledge of the tropics. Needless to say, I’ve come to love them.
- A Dog, A Cow, and Llama – Es Una Vida Dificil June 9, 2011
- Home Again! June 21, 2011
- One Week has Flew By! June 6, 2011
- Pre-Cameroon Musings May 30, 2011
- Time dilation in a far away nation June 7, 2011
- COO Transitions Off Staff May 24, 2013
- Fired Up, Ready to Go May 23, 2013
- 2 weeks in! Samara Beach, Costa Rica May 23, 2013
- The countdown begins! May 22, 2013
- Success, Sosua, and Sunburn May 22, 2013
- Irish Catering Hire: The best thing about your service is that you offe...
- Sameer: oh I wish if this nourish movement could be extend...
- Team DDS, Inc.: What a great project, medical clinics are never un...
- Olivia: Wow that's really incredible! Hope you had an ama...
- Angela Tassone: Great blog, love to hear all the exciting stories ...
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- March 2012
- February 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- April 2009
- March 2009
- February 2009
- January 2009
- November 2008
- October 2008
- September 2008
- August 2008
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- August 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- May 2007
- April 2007
- February 2005
- January 2005