The last two months, part 2

Fun fact: I decided to go running and try some parkour for the first time in a long time around July 12, I guess it was. Went great for about an hour. I went out late, around 10 pm, kind of dangerous time to be out, but I figured if I warmed up I could get away from just about anyone by hopping up to the rooftops. I've been looking closely for unconventional roof access my entire time in-site. Can't really use it during casual training because it's kinda trespassing. Anyway, I went to the central park to do some precision standing long jumps between some concrete picnic tables. Went fine warming up on the two that were about five feet apart. Basically just to get my muscles to remember what it's like doing the landing. It's a very important step. But I think I progressed too soon to the set of tables that were about seven feet apart, because after gauging the distance with a couple running jumps, I think I was pretty worn out. My mistake. Went for the standing seven foot jump (I've done 'em before in the US just fine) and totally blew the landing. One foot hit the edge just right, my left foot slipped off and under the table leaving only my shin to absorb the impact.

Yeah, you can say ouch.

So I kinda bounced off the corner of the concrete table and landed on both feet and tried to just walk it off. For about 10 minutes. When the pain subsided, I halfheartedly tried to get back to running and jumping over railings and benches, but it was late and I was tired and I had probably just given myself another hematoma, so I figured I should head home.

Got home, sat on my bed, took off my shoes, go to take my pants off, and I see that there's a patch of skin missing from my shin, about the size of a quarter, and about as deep as two quarters stacked together. Not a bruise, not a gash, a round hole. Blood running down my leg from a couple inches below my knee all the way to my sock. I was angry, because I knew it was an infection risk.

Did my best to keep it clean and covered for a week. But realized it wasn't getting any better, and was probably infected. So I went to the doctor. And they set me up with some cream to fight the staph infection.

So I had a hole in my leg for the length of the EWB project, kicked the infection in time for vacation, got back, started going to the doctor daily to get my hole cleaned, and now, finally, as of August 26, I have a complete and sterile scab over the entire hole. Most serious injury I've received probably since I was 4. I better get a darn fine scar out of all this crap I've been through.

Pictures on facebook! But let's see if I can upload a single photo just for the two of you who don't have facebook...



Next story: me and the first EWB group.

Ok... I spent a week with these people from Michigan. July 21, I think it was, I went with the hired driver to San Pedro Sula to meet them... they couldn't speak Spanish much at all, their translator couldn't make it this trip. The driver was also a preacher and a barber, and he enjoyed talking about the former profession far more. I tried to see if he was willing to consider that not all Catholics will go to hell, and after that kinda zoned out.

There was a transit strike going on. Typically Peace Corps recommends we avoid travel during these strikes (they seem to happen about twice a month, they're national strikes of bus drivers and sometimes taxis) because they make life difficult. I'd never traveled during one because of that. It's neat. All the schoolbus drivers with customized and modded buses all park their buses sideways across half the highway, reducing the highways to 1 or 2 lanes. It took us awhile to get to the hotel the EWB were staying at.

When we got there, I went up to the desk and asked to call the room. They guy told me the room was empty, they'd checked out. So I look around, and there's a computer lounge with white people in it. So I hop inside and ask "Any of you from Michigan?" And all the gringos' faces light up and smile and sure enough, they're my people.

Spent the drive back having a blast chatting with the people. Told 'em all about my parents being from Michigan, talked about fudge and Macinac Island and stuff. I surprised myself with my gregariousness. Talked shop a little bit, but not much. One of the women told me she'd been trying to picture me based on our email correspondence for the past 2 months, and she said she pretty much nailed it. Good thing she doesn't REALLY know me. Maybe that means the act is still holding up. Eventually got back to my site, put 'em into a hotel and went home.

The next morning me, some people from my counterpart agency, and the EWB group met for a couple hours to set up a gameplan. Nobody in my counterpart agency speaks English, so I was the translator. Being the only translator between two groups of 5 is rough. But I think I did alright. I had to interrupt a lot and speak before I forgot things, and every once in awhile someone would start talking about a concept I didn't understand, and thus couldn't translate, so we had to wait for someone to explain the idea to me before I could translate it.

Um... drove out to the aldea and set the group up in a church. I'm kinda fuzzy about what we did that first day in the aldea...I guess we just took a tour of the work site, picked a spot for the water tank to be built... I did a lot of talking, and they did a lot of looking AND talking. That's the ticket.

Um, I guess I'll summarize. Spent the first night with them in the church to make sure the accomodations were adequate. Looots of attention from the kids. They swarmed the church that evening like zombies seeking brains. I played rummy with 3 of the engineers. The surveyor and his teenage son live about a half hour from my parents' new house in the US. Might go visit during my Christmas vacation. They were all really friendly, and it was a very welcome change of pace for me.

The first few days were the most taxing, because there were a lot of details that still needed to be worked out. But towards the end of my week, I felt pretty unnecessary now that everyone had their routines and directions. I worked a bit with the surveyor and got some experience using a total station way, way more expensive and fancy than anything Peace Corps will ever have access to. Like, a handheld input device with electronic touchscreen and Bluetooth that does all the calculations to get your X Y and Z coordinates automatically. Had some good chats with the surveyor. Highlight quote was "Alex... I get the feeling you have a few eccentricities." I thought about mentioning some of them, but decided to just say "Heh, yeah..." Had some excitement... like rushing to finish mapping a road before a scary-looking storm hit, then me accidentally kicking the tripod, screwing up the stabilizer thing (TILT!) and suddenly and subtlely being demoted from total station operator, not to merely rod boy, but to peanut prism boy. Ouch.

Had fun on the first Friday. They had slept in the village for 3 nights and felt like spending a night in my site for a change of pace and a proper shower. I showed them around town to a good place for lunch, helped with some small purchases, then walked them out at dusk to a good place for dinner. They sell big plates of grilled meats. Pork chops, sausages, steaks and chicken breasts. Nothing but meats and garnishes and sauces. And it's bar so we all got a beer. I said I didn't like any of the Honduran beers. They said they didn't find them nearly as bad as I made them out to be. "Alex, you're a snob" was one of the comments. We all got on well. On the walk back from the meat bar a volunteer buddy of mine called to tell me he just had a moment watching a falling star while pondering the nature of the cosmos, and thought it a really perfect moment, and was just about to make a wish when the falling star exploded into a cheapo firework. I told him I was working hard translating for an EWB group. Terribly difficult, unrewarding stuff, doncha know.
One of the nights I didn't sleep at the village, I went to a birthday party for the host mom of the volunteer at my site is leaving soon. The host mom is a really cool lady, maybe 65, maybe a bit younger. But she's probably the most friendly person in the city. My site buddy's host mom is up there, but yeah, this lady rocks. Has a wall of photographs of all her foreign visitors, tells everyone who visits her to sign the facade of her house, on the porch, with permanent marker, said I can come over whenever I want for a snack or some natural fruit juice or just to chat. I gotta give her a photo of myself and my chick, now that said photos actually exist. Anyway, I went to her birthday one evening and sat with her family for a bit. Had some snacks, then she comes out with two shotglasses, a plate of salt and limes, and a bottle of Cuervo, and we did a shot to celebrate. THAT, my friends, is a story right there. We had to get instructions on the order, though. Salt, shot, lime? I think of everyone in my site, I like her the most. Closest thing to an actual host mom I have in Honduras, I think. She said she's so nice to foreigners because she has like 4 sons working in the US, and they all tell her it's hard being away from your friends and family back home, because the locals never really accept you. So she understands my situation through them and wants to help.

My last night in my area was crazy. Ended up staying in the village with part of the group until about 8 pm or so because the rest of the group, someone from my office, and my volunteer replacement all got caught up in the next big city doing materials purchases.

Next up, the big vacation write-up and some anecdotes.