Erin Miller

I am safely in Honduras and the midst of culture shock. The country is beautiful and the people are friendly. The degree of poverty shook me a bit. Most of the roads are dirt, and its the dry season, so its a blowing, dusty, dirt. People take whatever left over water they have and throw it on the street in front of their house/shop to keep the dust down. As I walked the about 2 miles to the hospital this morning for work, an elderly man walking along side me said “cuidado! mucho polvo!” As he gestured for me to duck further into the side of the street as a large truck passed throwing dust 8 feet into the air.
La Esperanza is a beautiful town and I have finally gotten my bearings. I walked to the hospital and to the town center today and only got alittle lost.
I spent last Sunday night in Houston and had some added excitement getting to the airport to fly to Honduras Monday. I awoke in my hotel with just enough time to take one last warm, leisurely, American shower, eat a last balanced and free American continenetal breakfast and head to the airport. As I tried to open my eyes, I realized my right eye was swollen and my lashes were stuck together. “Oh crap, pinkeye.” I peeled my eyelids apart and frantically splashed water on my face. I threw my stuff back into my pack, my eye filling with pus, and rushed downstairs to call a cab and check the internet for 24-hour pharmacies. Finding 24 hour pharmacies online is easier said than done, but thankfully, just as I rushed to the waiting cab, a man at the counter knew of one relatively close. Thank goodness my parents are doctors; I phoned my mom from the cab to call in the RX. The pharmacist had this crazy obsession with insurance cards and ploicies… “I’ll pay cash! I need to catch a flight!” I was able to get the prescription and get to the aiport on time. The whole experience lightened my wallet about 60 bucks. $60 is about 1000 lempira.
It was on the plane that I first encountered one of my most valuable resourses on this trip, and one that I had alrgely overlooked when thinking about what the experience would be like — my fellow volunteers. “This might sound strange, but I couldn’t help but noticing your paper has i-to-i on it?” Megan is, like most of the other volunteers, an 18 year old, here to enjoy a strangely British phenomena known as a “gap year.” They take a year off between high school and college, earn as much money as they can in 6 months and then blow it all traveling and volunteering around the world. Terrific idea. There are a couple of other volunteers about my age, one grandpa, and one middle-aged couple. They have been unbelievably helpful. I am the only volunteer working in the hospital, and the only one living with my family, though a few others live only about a ten minute walk away. We spent the first night in Honduras in a colonial town outside the capital called Valle de Angeles. A cute town with cobblestone streets and everything. It would have been like any tourist town in mexico except that there was a donkey being loaded with cornmeal outside one of the small markets. Tuesday, we made the 3 and a half hour bus journey to La Esperanza.
I am living with a nurse and her microbiologist husband. One of the wealthiest families in town, and one of the few in which both parents work. They have a woman who “does the cooking” and helps look after their three daughters. I brought some floam for the girls and the were generally amazed by it, it was a great icebreaker. The five year old, Karly, (Karlita) can write my name, though as in Italy, not a single person can pronounce it. The girls enjoyed looking at my pictures. They think the dogs are pretty, and my host mother thinks that my mom is incredebly young-looking and that she has a gorgeous garden. They all think my borfriend is good looking and that Rachel’s wedding dress was stunning. Karlita saw a picture of my five-year-old cousin Hannah and was amazed to learn that there are five-year-olds all over the world. I have had some good times helping the children with their English and speaking with my host mother in Spanish. When the water is running, a bucket is filled under the sink and then the water used from the bucket to make dinner and clean the dishes so that as little as possible is wasted. I am living in an incredebly nice, large and clean house. I have my own bedroom and even my own bathroom. When the water is running I have my very own freezing cold shower. Its really more just like a faucet placed high up that drips really cold water. Its cold enough to take my breath away. But when it runs, it runs, and I realize that this is the first time in my life I have ever had my own bathroom.
One of the things that has struck me most about life here is the lack of waste. It seems that poverty forces a rather amazing level of conservation. Rarely are plastic plates or utentsils used, or any utensils for that matter. Each person gets one small paper napkin with their lunch. All the leftovers are taken home for the family dogs.
My work as been alright. I am just sort of getting use to things. I have been working in the lab, which is about my least favorite area of hospital work, but despite myself I have been learning some new things and sometimes find myself enjoying the scientific processes involved in diagnosis and bacteriology. I think that next week I will be working with some pregnant women in the hospital. My host family was exctied to learn that I had some experience working with pregnent women and explaining the benefits of breastfeeding and how to feed young children. Apparently many children still get very sick here from drinking from bottles that haven’t been adequetely cleaned, and that sort of education is really related to my thesis, so that might all work out really well. There is definitely lots of good to be done in town and I’d guess I’ll find a way to do some of it.
I miss my family, somehow being around another really nice family makes me miss mine. And I miss Dan like crazy and, of course, my pup. Sometimes being here seems so hard that its almost overwhelming and I nearly break into tears. But then, the water comes on again at my host family’s house, or one of the family dogs will walk with me to meet up with other volunteers to grab a beer, or someone will go out of their way to be friendly towards me and everything seems fine. The other volunteers have been a terrific source of support. We’re planning a weekend trip to some nearby waterfalls, and hopefully that adventure will be in my next post.
Adios