Home sweet Home. (Pero donde esta mi casa ahorita?)

Part I: Heading to the States (06/10/09)

So I’m sitting at the airport here in Teguc, its so bare. There’s me and one other woman, granted I'm about two hours early.

I’m really looking forward to going to the states. This will be a very nice break, much needed. The last few days have finally felt normal which is so good. It was really hard for me when the whole political situation was so crazy. I really didn’t enjoy being a prisoner in my own home. But I guess it was best that I was safe. There are so many unknown and uncertain factors that affect my everyday decisions, like whether or not I could walk myself to my friends house that is only 10 minutes away. It seems like we have our eyes in all directions in order to protect ourselves, from the unknown. I really don’t like being so paranoid, I don't want to imagine the worse case scenario when I'm walking around the corner. I wish I could say that I’m confident walking in my own neighborhood, however this is not the case.

This goes to show that I have a more optimistic perspective. This way of viewing humanity is so unnatural to me. I would like to say Hola to every person I pass, but then I’m drawing unnecessary attention to myself. I hate that this fear has the potential to halt kindness. I hate that I can’t even make eye contact with another fearing that I might be giving him the wrong idea. Such is the life of an American-woman in Honduras. Its unfortunate, that we can’t live in faith. Faith that says we can trust our neighbor. Faith that allows us to develop communities.

This weekend has been the finally felt normal. On Thursday I went to coffee with the other three Kinder teachers and our principle. We went to a place called Café de France, the pastries there were so tasty, I ordered two. I felt like a gorda. The next day, I went to the open market downtown, it was honestly the most liberating experience I've had in Honduras. Walking the streets of centro at night. I loved it! I think it was the first moment that reassured me that I would be able to live and thrive here for the next two years. It was great watching people purchasing their weekly groceries and living as if this political crisis doesn't exist.


Part II: Returning back to my new Casa (12/10)

So when I was being questioned by immigration entering the states in Houston, they asked me where my house was and I said Honduras. I incorrectly filled out the form by stating that I was a U.S. resident, no es verdad. Ahorita mi casa es aqui en Honduras. I'm a Honduran resident. This is more true now that I've returned.

When I was cruising the streets in Denver, it felt so weird but I didn't feel like I belonged. I know the streets like the back of my hand but I didn't recognize it.



(Gilbert and I at the wedding.)

I really enjoyed the time that I spent at home. I loved seeing all my friends. And being able to spend significant time with loved ones. I thoroughly enjoyed the wedding on Sat. It was so beautiful to wake up on Saturday morning to see snow on the ground. But I knew that I'm not destined to stay in Colorado, not now at least. I still question what I'm doing here in Honduras. I feel slightly homeless.

When I entered my classroom after a week absence all the children greeted me with BIG hugs and HUMANGIOUS smiles, I felt a sense of belonging and maybe purpose. I missed my ninos muchisimo. I'm glad that they missed me too.