27. November 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

Our Second Annual Dia de Gracias feast at the orphanage met with exuberant success.  This is the second turkey holocaust (3 birds) for me at my assigned post and will not be the last.  Fifteen PCVs joined with me to help cook, prepare and serve a traditional feast to 40 folks who included the fifteen resident children at the Hogar San Jose, three Cuban doctors, two German foreign exchange students, two visiting norteamericanos and several Honduran friends in an afternoon of giving thanks for our blessings by joining together to share a meal.  We gathered together as family grateful for the eternal unity of the human spirit no matter in which country one lives.  As the carver of fowl for 40 persons I was unfortunately not able to take as many pics as I wanted.  I say this feast will not be my last in Honduras because I have decided to extend my service for another year until May 2012.  There is much unfinished work upon which I will elaborate in subsequent posts.  Thank you Grandfather for allowing me to be here amongst friends whom I will never forget.

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13. November 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

When I received my first carton of seeds from Mel Hansen last year I thought to myself that it was certainly a boon, however I lived in La Paz, La Paz in the Comayagua Valley whose name the invading Spaniards had first given it was Valle de Piedras (Valley of Rocks) for a reason.  My first planting was plagued not only with the numerous rocks I had to dig out of the soil but with donated chickens that ran wild and ate all the canteloupes and watermelons (three watermelons miraculously survived and were duly consumed).  We also harvested corn and beans.  After we penned up the chickens someone this year donated a couple of rabbits.  I planted anew but the cute, furry bunnies ate all the nascent squash plants except the one that you can see above in the rocky soil: I had to resort to fencing the poor thing in until we finally got rid of the rabbits.  Our only other crop that has survived were the radishes that the nun planted in a washtub elevated on a 50-gallon drum above critters and kids.  Kids; our most enduring obstacle.  This is after all their home and one can’t be yelling at 2, 3 and 4-year-old kids for playing in the dirt amongst the plantings.  As can be seen above I have cleared three new areas after considerable labor and have planted sun flowers, green beans, more radishes, carrots, onions and jalapeno peppers!  Another large area not seen has a crop of corn planted.  I continue to clear garden spots: Thank you Mel Hansen and the Stockton, California Rotary Club for the donated seeds!!  Mel’s group donates seeds to Peace Corps Volunteers all over the world whose goal is to help native folk plant gardens and raise crops for healthy nutritious meals and better health.  A worthy endeavor indeed.  Happy Thanksgiving, Mel!!!

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30. October 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

Asked to stand as padrino (godfather) for the baptism of five abandoned children who live at the Hogar San Jose, I said ‘yes.’  My experience with the medical brigade had fizzled for a number of reasons, one of which was that I got sick.  I am only now regaining my voice.  So, in a croaky whisper I told Sor Edith that yes I would be happy to sponsor the children: she would be godmother.  The majority of the children’s baptismal pictures are taken in Edith’s element; the church.  The children were so happy and excited to be baptized, all dressed up and being the central part of the church’s ancient rites.  I was raised a Catholic but years of studying the history of centuries-long realities of religious warfare, lies, corruption and hypocrisy have made me a confirmed atheist.  That, however, does not stop me from respecting the spiritual beliefs of others, whether they be muslim, buddhist, animist, quaker, hindu, christian, or whatever motivates the beholder to believe in a spiritual savior.  That is their business, just as my beliefs are my business.  When I attended the mandatory three-hour orientation for parents (no parents for our kids) and padrinos Friday night I relived the mysteries of the church that were imbued in my own childhood rife with ignorance.  No matter, everyone in attendance, some 120, believed fervently in their religion.  I participated with their joy.  But knowing what I know of the world and of the history of mankind and our evolution, I could only wonder at the tremendous supernatural effort successfully perpetrated by the church on so many people over the centuries.  Political parties could learn from that deep and thorough soul-grasping indoctrination; perhaps they have.  Nonetheless, Saturday morning was a stimulating experience that unfolded seamlessly as a 2,000-year-old pageant little changed over the centuries.  And today I enjoyed participating in the ritual and I will do my best to help these children progress along a spiritual path of their choosing, whatever it may turn out to be.

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22. October 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

Tomorrow, Saturday, is the full moon.  Back home it’s cool in the evenings, even cold standing there looking up at the autumn sky, shivering, watching that beautiful full moon inch its way across the starry blackness.  The summer crops in the surrounding fields have been harvested, everyone waiting expectantly for winter snow and the holiday season.  Here in tropical Honduras there are only two seasons:  summer and winter.  The rainy period ended on October 9th.  It rained every day from May until October ninth.  But in my new life, tomorrow I’m invited to a “Full Moon” party at the doctor’s house with whom I work.  The six new Cuban doctors will be there, as well as other friends with whom I share life in my community.  We’re building a fogata, a huge bonfire to celebrate the beginning of the end of the year.  Sunday morning I’ll be joining the 80-strong Virginia Hospital Center Medical Brigade in Comayagua about half an hour away from La Paz to participate in a week-long medical intervention for citizens unable to pay the cost of medical treatments and surgery, somewhat like in the States, a supposedly First World country, with their lack of medical care for their own many poor unfortunate citizens unable to pay for basic preventative health care.  I will post pics of my adventure when I return on Halloween: the Day of the Dead in Latin America, an ancient annual celebration of life honoring those gone to the other side. 

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10. October 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

Last week in Tegucigalpa I noticed for the hundreth time how shabby the capital city looks.  When I was in Guatemala City last June I couldn’t help but notice the difference as I cruised through their wide, clean European-style boulevards on the way to the airport.  Many sidewalks in Tegus are broken and in wide disrepair so much that one has to walk looking down so as not to trip or fall into a hole (which I have done) and to avoid stepping into a pile of garbage.  Not every street, of course, but most, and some in even worse repair.  I have seen poorly kept streets in many cities in Europe, Latin America and the US where I have traveled, but I’m sad to say none on the scale of Tegucigalpa.  Even the taxi drivers who by memory drive me through the teeming city warren absent of street signs comment on the disrepair and tell me it’s the fault of corrupt politicians.  Yet the city continues to exert a metropolitan aura that pulls in the citizenry in spite of its plight.  On the other hand, the country’s building practices are better than any I have seen in the States.  I have never seen linoleum on a floor in Honduras, nor plastic shower stalls, or the flimsy plaster board of which most US homes are constructed.  Here concrete block and brick are used to construct homes and real tile to floor those houses.  My kitchen, bathrooms and floors are completely tiled, as are most homes in the country (I’m not a very good housekeeper, sorry).  Finally, I include a couple of pics of my Saturday morning English class; from which two of my students are missing but will be included in future postings.  Stay tuned….

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26. September 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

I bobbed in the warm, blue-green Caribbean last Wednesday, the gentle swells lifting me, urging me toward sandy shore on a beautiful sunny late afternoon, the orange sun dipping behind palm trees.  Suddenly a good-sized fish jumped part-way out of the water in front of my three companions and me, startling everyone.  A second time it jumped; part-way out.  On the fish’s third dash into air right in front of me I saw that a small shark had hold of the tail in process of devouring its frantic twisting victim.  “A shark!” I yelled, eliciting an immediate response from my colleagues, one of whom swam and flopped and ran out of the water.  “It’s only a baby.”  The reply: “Yeah, but he has a mama.”  I had gone to La Ceiba on the North Coast for a few days to consult with former colleagues at the Hospital Regional Atlantida CAI clinic, the clinic that deals with HIV/AIDS patients.  We in La Paz opened our own CAI clinic two months ago and I was seeking advice on getting ours off the ground.  While there I also connected with colleagues in La Masica whom I promised to visit Friday morning.  Thursday was hot and tropical sweaty as usual and my meetings that day were very productive.  Friday morning as I was getting ready to board a bus for La Masica 45 minutes away, my Country Director called me on my cell.  You have to leave the North Coast ASAP, she said.  Hurricane Matthew is due to make landfall tonight in La Ceiba.  With much regret I left the gritty seaside city about 9:30 a.m. after I called my companions and explained the situation.  As our bus drove through Tela and passed San Pedro Sula the torrential rains began and we started our climb over the mountains.  I arrived home about 5 in the evening.  That night as I watched the television weather newscaster showing footage from La Ceiba of the same roiling, stormy Caribbean in which I had been happily swimming two days before I thought of that toothy, well-fed little shark.

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15. September 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

The pride in their national honor was evident and glowed in the faces of the huge crowd gathered in the Parque Central.  The above 13 pics are a meager representation of the 72 photos I took to commemorate the day.  I hope the pictures capture the infectious joy in the numerous bustling children dressed in their finest and marching in so many groups as the well-organized desfile performed and passed before the reviewing stand of local dignitaries and then continued through the town as it wound its way to the other city park several blocks away, the parade route lined with cheering citizens.  The young men and women of the National Police Academy training facility in La Paz are an impressive sight.  The celebratory spirit will be carried forth into the night.  Myself?  I have been invited to the orphanage this evening by Sister Edith to sup on nacatamales with the children.

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12. September 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

The Day of the Children is celebrated every September 10th over the entire country.  The holiday also coincides with Honduran Independence Day on the 15th so it made for a very long and festive weekend this year.  This Saturday a Distancia Bachillerato de Ciencias y Letras colegio program brought their students to the Hogar to ply the kids with a pinata, candy, dancing and food.  The pictures also document the progress we have made at the Hogar San Jose as we continue to pursue the elusive personeria juridica that confers legal status on the Fundacion Senor San Jose.  The President’s daughter was supposed to come visit the Hogar Saturday to provide her considerable political support and perhaps expedite the filing process but she never showed.  Nonetheless we partied as if she were here. 

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7. September 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

Coffee grows best in high, cool climates, like the mountaintop aldea of Concepcion de Soluteca a couple of thousand meters above La Paz where I live.  My Public Health team and I traveled there on a supervision visit and to deliver medical supplies, including a brand-new autoclave for sterilizing surgical instruments.  The clinic building, however, is in sad need of repair.  The pic of the almacen (warehouse) in La Paz seemingly loaded with supplies has to service 60 aldeas and 17 municipios in the departamento, many with no reliable transport to their sites.  The 3,000 plus folk who inhabit Concepcion de Soluteca live on a complex of mountain peaks packed to the gills with coffee fincas.  The community has no paved roads and is reached by a long, gravel and rock, gut-busting roadway.  It does have electricity, a kintergarten, primary school, and secondary school besides the health center manned by an auxiliary nurse, somewhat like an LVN.  Indeed, when we left she was treating a machete wound that would need multiple stitches.  The coffee bushes visible in the top left pics are planted around and under banana trees that provide the shade they need.  As a result the farmers harvest two crops.  Notice the paucity of native trees and the cleared forest.  Tomorrow we travel to an even more isolated aldea called Naranjo.

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30. August 2010 by Fortunato Velasquez.

An old decrepit wooden building somewhat like a small horse stable occupied the site.  Around the first of the year I watched as workmen began tearing down the eyesore to begin the reconstruction.  Blue-collar workers in this country do not often have access to the expensive machinery so prevalent on U.S. building projects.  But they are hard workers and use effective simple methods to achieve their goals.  Over the course of the year I have watched them arrive every day, six days a week, and work in the hot sun and in the rain as the new business began to take shape.  They transformed what was once a shabby niche into a modern commercial center selling new clothing, footware, luggage, kitchen and home appliances and much more.  And it’s all right across the narrow pre-motor-vehicle road from where I live.  The grand opening was this past weekend with blaring music and crowds filling the street.  Of course I failed to take any pics of the festivities.  But I feel I have a good reason for my absentmindedness.  We Honduras Peace Corps folk received a new transfer from Guatemala who extended for another year and she has been shadowing me since Friday as I show her around the city.  She will be assigned to Marcala, another beautiful mountain city about an hour-and-a-half from La Paz.

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