Last week was a long time ago.

As I slowly walked down the hill home today, I found my thoughts turning to Carlos.
Carlos was born in New York City, but now he lives in Tegucigalpa. Among the sea of blank stares in 10th grade English, he is a bright spot in my class. He animatedly shares his thoughts, opinions, goals, songs, and even favorite dance moves with a quiet confidence.

He recalled today, in response to the unsavory doctor character in the book, The Pearl by John Steinbeck, that in the history of the United States, blacks were considered to be only on-third human. Amazingly, his thoughtful, but off-the-topic comment, was an open window for me to talk about how people, like our villan, can dehumanize other people because of the color of their skin or their social class. Then the skies parted and magically we transitioned into talking about foreshadowing and the importance of looking for clues in the actions of the characters in order to predict the unfolding of the story.

I quite possibly might have been beaming in class.

After asking me if we would do poetry this year, Carlos informed me that he in fact was a poet. He quickly made an addendum to his statement by adding that he was actually a " rapper-poet." His enthusiasm soundly convinced me that he wasn't joshing me. His participation in class( and his varied and eager responses)is undoubtedly one of things I look most forward to in the day. It makes me think I might be of use to somebody here afterall.

Thank-you all for your prayers and thoughts while Hurricane Felix mostly quietly came and left Honduras yesterday. Although, the damage was minimal in Honduras, our friends in Nicaragua did not fare as well. Of course, the most affected were the Miskitia people on the coast of the two countries where, due to the remoteness of the area, officials found it difficult to evacuate many. Continue to pray for the families of this group of people as some, upon being found unconscious, were hospitalized. Eventhough there were many survivors, as the hurricane blasted them, some some were caught in their boats; those rescued have mostly recuperated ,but bodies are continuing to be found washed-up on shore.

President Zelaya called off school for two days and it was an opportune time to catch-up on many things including:
-cooking a good meal. I introduced some of the teachers to Peruvian cuisine. The joy in my mom's voice as I called her for the recipe was enough enouragement to attempt this recipe that for some reason took me two hours to prepare. To my defense, I was sharing stories from my trip to Peru and manuvering a tiny stove at the same time, and we all know how well I do with multi-tasking
- running for the first time after my dengue fever episode. I asked my friend why she thought we kept getting gawked at by people, given that I had concluded that running outside wasn't an oddity since I had seen several runners throughout the weeks. She promptly reminded me that we were 1)women, 2) running, and 3)wearing shorts. Newsflash: being a woman, running in shorts is a sight to see. I was reminded why being a women in Latin American can stink sometimes.
-doing some awesome devotions from a book that I realize only now that I stole from Calvin's Service-Learning Center. Oops. Sorry Jeff
-doing a hilarious Pilates video
-sleeping.... but I actually still woke up at 5 am automatically. Strange.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the movie,Transamerica. The main character sullenly reflects on the recent events of his life and bemoans," Last week was a long time ago." Well, last week was a long time ago and I can't believe I survived all the Job-like challenges that God threw at me.

I read this poem and thought it fit. I guess I can get enthusiastic about poetry as well. I, unlike Carlos, don't think I am a poet, but I like the emotions that are evoked in this poem for me.

The Bridge by Leopold Staff

I didn't believe
Standing on the bank of a river
Which was wide and swift ,
That I would cross that bridge,
Plaited from thin, fragile reeds
Fastened with bast
I walked delicately as a butterfly
And heavily as an elephant,
I walked surely as a dancer
and wavered like a blind man.
I didn't believe that I would cross that bridge
And now that I am standing on the other side,
I don't believe I crossed it.