We Did It!!! (For a month at least)



Scary Francis



 I started off this week by skipping out on the farm for a day.  After having a rough night, I was a bit afraid that I had a stomach bug.  And from the stories that I’ve heard, Honduran stomach bugs are no joke.  So I called in sick to the farm and hoped that I was wrong about being ill.  I found a bottle of Pepto Bismal that my mom had packed me (thanks mom) and was feeling much better by around noon.  So much so that I decided to go catch a bus to La Esperanza and do some MUCH needed grocery shopping.  Met a guy (Carlos maybe) while waiting at the bus stop who spoke English and was going to be a missionary in Egypt pretty soon.  Kind of neat who you meet down here.  Anyhow, after about 10 minutes of waiting on a bus, Mrs. Pam (the director of the girls’ home) came driving by in her truck just by chance.  I got a free ride and a guide through the streets of La Esperanza.  It turned out to be a really nice way to start my week; slow and focused on God.  It seems that every day here in Honduras has a surprise of its own.  Although please keep me in your prayers that I don’t have a stomach bug.  I would really rather be teaching and hanging out with the girls than lying at home in the fetal position sobbing.



Roxana and Jackie-O



On a happier note, the girls make me laugh pretty often.  Since I’ve been down here, I haven’t had many opportunities or much time to gander at myself in a mirror.  I hadn’t noticed, but almost a month of not shaving led me to have a fairly decent amount of facial hair consuming my facial region.  So one night I just decided to shave.  Burn it all down and start growing anew.  I didn’t think this was a very big deal...until I walked to the farm the following morning.  The girls were shocked and amazed.  I heard a lot of “Oh Mr. Ben!!!” and “Que blanco!!!” and “You look so different!”  I hadn’t considered it, but I guess if you live in a girls’ home, surrounded by females, you’re not used to a clean shaven face where yesterday there was a beard.  I think the girls were in utter amazement for the next hour or so.  One girl, after staring at me in silence for a few minutes straight, asked me, “who cut it?”   Some days its impossible not to have a smile on your face down here.

Discipline is continuing to be my least favorite part of this job.  Its rough when I need to be stern/ angry with the very same girls that I moved down here for.  I would much rather be their friend all of the time.  Yet, I really think that “teacher” Ben is more effective in preparing these girls for the future.  I think the girls get a little hurt when I get frustrated with them for being late, having no homework, or acting crazy.  They don’t understand yet that I’m trying to look out for their upcoming adult lives.  Colleges and businesses won’t care what sweet girls they are if they are late, missing work, and not meeting standards.  But I guess we’re getting there one day at a time.  A few less friends and a few more students.  Hopefully it’ll pay off for somebody down the road.

Mariela

So one month in.  That’s right, today marks my 4^th complete week here (although, if we’re being really honest, the 8^th will be a full month I guess).  I have a lot more familiarity with Honduras that I ever would have imagined.  Sometimes when I am writing down or telling stories on the phone, it sounds so strange some of the things that I’m doing without a second thought.  At least once a day, I catch a ride with a stranger in the back of a truck and pay him 5 limpira (less than a quarter) for the ride.  When I don’t catch a ride, I walk three miles along dirt roads to my job (before 7:30 every morning!).  I regularly have conversations about the weather with people who don’t know any English.  I practice squishing people and making cow sounds with a little girl who can’t walk but thinks I’m cooler than the Fonz.  I have persuaded 27 girls in a girls’ home in Honduras to name their new puppy “Jackie-O”.  I have scaled 2 barbed wire fences in my church clothes to attend a service in a language that I don’t understand.  I occasionally wake up near insects too large for me to squish for fear of waking other people (or losing the fight).  I have travelled so far with a backpack and rain boots on, that without them I feel like I have just got off a trampoline.  But the odd thing to me is that it all just feels alright.  It somehow seems to fit together so nicely that the only direction I can point is towards God. 

Got a free TV with the fridge. I got them a bench.

So thanks for reading this, praying for me, sending me messages, and letting me know that I have been missed for this first month.  It went by so much smoother than anything I could have anticipated.  God sure has a funny way of taking care of people who clearly don’t deserve it.  A big part of me can’t wait until December to see you guys back home again.  Please continue to keep me in your prayers, I know I’ll need it in the months to come. 

Oh, and did anybody catch my Stephen T. Colbert phrase up there in the title?  Imagine balloons dropping down right now.  Speaking of Colbert.... my mom and some folks from her Sunday School class are going to Washington DC for the Daily Show's "Rally to Restore Sanity".  I'm so jealous I can't hardly stand it.  Somebody better get me a T-shirt so I can wear it to church.  But for real fellows, get it together.  If there are many more Tea Parties, I'm not sure I'm ever coming home.  Ok, thats the end of my political rants for a month.  Done.

-Ben Heath