Swimming in Pee Water.

I’m adding this to the post so sorry for those of you who may get two posts in your inbox….

So I went to take my bucket bath the other day and the only bucket that was in the bathroom was the flush bucket. The little bucket for showering was not there. This really bothered me. I ended up having to wash with the flush bucket. Now, I realize this is silly, because you don’t actually PEE in the flush bucket. It’s perfectly clean water that you use to flush with. But there was just something about showering with the flush bucket that made me feel…. dirty.

Driving in Honduras is pretty much the most ridiciulous thing I have seen in my entire life. I used to be aggitated that we were not allowed to drive in Peace Corps. Now I have to wonder WHO WOULD want to drive in this crazy place. Let me try to briefly ennumerate the driving rules in Honduras for you:

·         Passing on a blind curve is completely acceptable.

·         Passing several vehicles, a giant tractor trailer, a bus full of people, or 40 cows on a blind curve is acceptable given that you toot your horn once or twice before pulling out to pass on the harrowing curve of death.

·         A double solid is negligable if you need to pass somebody and don’t have quite enough time. Just toot your horn. They will move.

·         A two lane road easily becomes a three lane road if the person in front of you is passing somebody slower than you can pass both of them. Just toot your horn. The people coming the other direction will move.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing”>·         Guard rails are for wimps. Besides, they are just going to fall off down the cliff so why bother spending the money anyway.

·         When the people who put seat belts in cars call in sick the companies still make the cars just without the seatbelts. They just send them to Honduras. This is fine, because seatbelts are for wimps.

·         Speed limits are optional. Your speed is determined by what is, or is not in the road. Giant trailer? 90mph is the appropriate passing speed. 40 cows in the road? Slow to 50 and pull onto the shoulder.

·         You may at any given time pull up to livestock crossing the highway. Simply slow down and wave at the little boy on the horse who is herding the goats/cows/donkeys/horses across the street.

·         Women do not generally drive in Honduras. This is not a gender bias. This is intelligence.

·         If you slow your speed to 20mph you can guaruntee that at least 30 children will be at your window selling food of some sort. Just speed past. They will move.

·         Busses can, in fact, pass other busses. Especially on blind curves. As a matter of fact, for fun it is suggested that you wait until the most dangerous situation possible to pass. This ensures that everyone will continue going to mass to thank god that they are still alive. I believe this practice is sponsored by the Catholic church.

·         There is absolutely nothing wrong with having people in the bed of your truck on the highway. The more the merrier. In fact, if you don’t have at least 10 people in the bed of your truck then you need to pull over and pick up a few hitchhikers.

·         All stop signs, stop lights, road markings, safety warnings, and traffic police are there purely for decoration. Just honk your horn and keep going. The wimps will stop for you anyway.

 

I went to the beach with my host family this week. This is the way that they celebrate the resurrection of Christ. It’s pretty great. They spend several days working like normal, sometimes they go to mass (some more than others), then from Thursday to Sunday they close the entire town and go to the beach. It’s kind of like Spring Break in Daytona Beach but nobody knows how to swim, women don’t wear bikinis because if they did they would have to listen to shit like “Hola mammasita” all day, and you are swimming in pee water.

 

Now I know what you are thinking “the beach in FL at Spring Break is swimming in pee water too.” But I would argue this point. First of all, we have the jet stream working in our favor. We may pee in our water, but it’s the South Carolina folk that are swimming in our pee water. Second of all, only a rookie would ACTUALLY go to the beach during spring break. And those Floridians that do know well enough to get drunk at the hotel pool or while playing beach volleyball. NOT swim in the pee water.

 

Now, I know you may think I am exaggerating. But picture 7,000 Hondurans all floating in the water (you can reach out and touch at least 7 people at any given moment) and none of them can swim so they are all withing the “my feet can touch and the water is at my waste” level. They enjoy this with such glee. They are all horrified when I swim about 10 feet further into the water where “my feet can touch and the water is at my chest.” You should have seen their faces when I swam to where my feet couldn’t touch at all. The water was at least 5 degrees cooler there. That’s because people weren’t peeing there. I didn’t want to leave that spot but my host mom looked like she was going to cry if I stayed out in the deep water too long and I knew I had to swim back through all the pee water anyway, so what was the point in fussing about it.

 

The beach was rather pretty. You could look across the water and there was a big looming piece of land that they call “El Salvador” or something like that. All I could think when they told me this was “I wonder if the El Salvadorians can’t swim too. Are they over there? Pointing to an El Salvador peace corps volunteer and saying ‘See that land over there? That’s Honduras.’ While swimming in their own pee water?” I suspect this may very well be true. Anyway, the beach sand was ominously black. This is for no reason other than that it is volcanic there. So it was actually cool to see the black beach sand. It also was cleaner than I had been led to believe. I thought it was rather lovely, actually. Until high tide came in and swept away all of the garbage. That was totally uncool.

 

Anyway, so when the gringa was good and fried we went home. I was glad to take a shower. By the time we got home I had convinced myself that clearly I was over exaggerating about the pee water. I’m sure the water was just warmer where the people were because of like, body heat or something. So I took a shower and chilled out with my host family. I rarely pay attention unless they are directing a question at me. This isn’t because I don’t care. It’s because my brain forgets to listen. I just picked up a few words in the conversation “Three times.” “Twice.” “Once.” Then my host granddaughter turns to me and says something. “Como?” I replied. “How many times did you pee in the water?” “Oh, twice.” I answered.

 

My host-yard has the best mangoes ever. This is because they fall from the tree directly onto the ground and then they get picked up, washed off, and eaten. I probably eat about 93 mangoes a day. This is because I know that I will never get another mangoe as delicious as the ones in my host-yard. They are so good that I bring several of them to share on a semi-daily basis with my fellow trainees. Usually, the mangoe gets passed around so people can marvel at the beautiful mixture of red, yellow, orange, and green tones. And so that we call can smell the mangoe. This is an essential moment in our mangoe ritual. Then, with mouths watering, somebody cuts open the mangoe and we all marvel in how juicy and delicous a mangoe can be. They are not like this the states. It’s because they are shipped, I am sure of it. We all carry around dental floss wherever we go now. In case somebody brings a mangoe from their yard.  My friend Rachel was sent a smut magazine from the states so she could catch up on the famous peoples goings-ons. It had an advertisement for a mangoe vodka in it. It was my mangoe. I was proud that it made it into a magazine.

 

I had a new breakfast conversation with my  host mom. This one took me by surprise.

“Rebecca, would you like some breakfast?”

“Yes, just a little please.”

(She proceeds to put 3 Papusas on my plate)

“Just one for me please.”

“Just one?”

“Yes, please, just one.”

(She then puts a plate with TWO papusas in front of me)

“They are small.”

(I then proceed to eat ONE of the papusas. I sit and stare at the second)

“I gave you less today and yet you still resist.”

“Sorry, I can’t eat breakfast in the morning.”

 

Fun in Hondu:

·         Pancakes are called “Panqueques” but  Corn Flakes are called “Corn Flakes.” Why not Corn Fleques?

·         Bottled sodas are poured into platic baggies. You drink out of the plastic baggie.

·         Water comes sold in plastic bags. You bite off the end and suck the water out.

·         People will sweep their floors a hundred times a day but will throw their garbage into the back yard.

·         People who live on unpaved roads will water the road to keep the dust down. People who live on paved roads do too. Why? I haven’t figured it out yet.

·         Piropos drive me crazy. The best one I have heard thus far was from a volunteer who we surveyed with a couple of weeks ago. A man called to her and said “Your backpack is the backpack oflove, baby!”

·         Speaking of Piropos, I would like to meet the man who actually got some action from hissing, whistling, cat calling, or yelling out disgusting things at women walking by.

·         Frying things is a national sport here. We have decided this comes from when people used to use fire to cook and thus they had to use a lot of oil to keep things from burning. But now it is a norm to use 3 inches of oil to cook your egg. You just spoon the hot oil over the top of the egg until it is ready. No need to flip it at all. Apply this methodology to anything that will fry.

·         We had sugar-ketchup-hotdog-spaghetti for lunch again this week. They served it with beets. Personally, I love pasta, hotdogs, and beets. I plan to open a chain restaurant serving this exact thing in the states. It will take off. I just know it.

·         Did you know you can eat your pasta in a tortilla? I decided that the entire country of Honduras is carboloading to get ready to run a marathon every single day of their lives. They just keep getting distracted by TV novellas to go and run them.

·         Even though people here will eat tortillas with ANYTHING they always look at me weird when I make tacos out of my food. I mean, what better way is there to eat refried beans, eggs, and avacado if not as a taco? I think they are missing out. They think I am weird. They think a tortilla should be rolled up and used to push around your food. I think a tortilla should be filled with delicious non-carbohydrate foods and eaten like a taco.

·         I keep putting my water bottle in the freezer. Then I come home and eat lunch and get ready to go back into the 100 degree weather (which btw, I found out actually IS the temperature here. I have not actually been exaggerating) and somebody has moved it to the refrigerator. This happens every day. Apparently freezing your water is really weird. You know what I think is weird? 100 degree water at 4 in the afternoon because somebody keeps moving your frozen water to the fridge.

·         My friend Jill got yelled at by her host mom the other day for trying to take a shower after dinner. Jill didn’t know you were supposed to wait a half an hour first so you don’t get sick. Silly gringa.

·         My friend Ross’s host brother got sick the other day. Apparently it was because he ate lettuce for dinner. Lettuce for lunch is acceptable, but once it gets dark lettuce will make you sick. Beware.

·         A volunteer who came to visit got yelled at by her neighbor for sweeping her floor at night. Now she sweeps clandestinely with the blinds shut and sweeps the dust into a corner until morning.