BICHOS MUERTOS

Bichos Muertos is the name of a game I play with my students after I give a charla. The purpose is to review material discussed that day by making teams race against each other to answer questions I ask. To mix it up a little I’ll sometimes ask them to bring me back something other than an answer. For example, a shoe, a watch, a cell phone, until finally the last thing is a dead bug (bicho muerto). It’s a lot of fun and my kids LOVE it.

However, in my house this game takes on a whole new purpose and love is not the word I would use to describe it. Basically, I kill any and all living creatures that enter my home. I know it sounds cruel, but as a single lady living in a tiny village in the middle of Honduras it must be done.

Let’s talk about all the fun creatures I’ve had the pleasure of meeting while innocently hanging out in my house.

Geckos – these are one of the few animals I let live and mostly because they help eat things that like to bite me such as mosquitoes, ants, and spiders. I can stare at these little guys for hours. I once even got a late night ‘Skinemax’ showing of two geckos enacting in foreplay. It involved strobe light flicks of the tale, cat and mouse chases, and catcalls from both parties. It entertained all the lucky volunteers who stared at the ceiling for probably an hour mesmerized in disbelief by the gecko porn we were watching.

Millipedes – my new farm house was infested with them when I first moved in. I even looked up how to get rid of these creepy crawlies only to discover it involved filling any cracks in the house and eliminating any leaks. Good luck finding that house in Honduras – it does not exist. Luckily the numbers have significantly dwindled upon my first couple weeks in the house.
Wasps – I have some of the biggest wasp nests hanging from my roof outside. For obvious reasons I do not disturb the nests and only spray with raid the small nests that are inside my windows. The screens protect me from any angry wasp retaliations.

Tarantulas – I was reading a book on my bed when I looked over and saw a tarantula the size of my fist taking a late night stroll across my floor. Only slight panic escaped me as I scanned my room looking for the answer. I was unable to put up my mosquito net because of my cement walls & roof so I decided it had to die. I squashed it with my hiking boot. Then I left it there so the ants could devour it, and that they did. There must have been a thousand ants that came to eat its remains – by morning there was not a single trace of the tarantula.

Scorpions – My first experience occurred in my host family’s house in my bathroom. I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a creature I had never seen before in person. I ran back into my bedroom, frantically called two other volunteers to discuss my options, put my rain boots on to prepare for war and then searched the bathroom to find out where it had run off to. I found it under a suitcase and smashed it with my hiking boot. I think I’ve used these boots more as killing tools here in Honduras than I’ve used them to actually hike.

The next experience was much calmer. I spotted the scorpion walking across my living room floor, snapped a couple of photos of it, and then crushed it under my flip-flop.

However, my most recent experience did not go so smoothly. I put on my backpack and had just walked out of my house. As I bent over to pull my keys out to unlock my fence, a scorpion fell directly from my shoulder area into my sports bra. Throwing all my bags to the ground, I bent over grabbing at my shirt and bra trying to coax it out. I think all the jiggling only scared it further into my bra unbeknownst to me. Although I did not see it fall I could not see or feel the scorpion in my bra so I decided it was safe to pick my bags back up and walk to the bus. Ten minutes later I got to my bus, found a seat near the back and tried to calm myself down. But then I looked down and noticed legs poking out of the top of my shirt. Holding for dear life nestled comfortably between my breasts this little guy was not going anywhere. I silently scream to myself so as to not draw any more attention to the only gringa on the packed bus and was finally able to flick him out of my bra. Thankfully I received no stings and only exposed my breasts to a couple of people from my community.

Snakes – I had been sewing a baby blanket for a couple of Peace Corps volunteers that had accidentally gotten knocked up while down here in Honduras, so at the time my floor had a lot of scraps of fabric in random places. Even though I had just swept, the long dark thing on the floor didn’t set off any alarms because I thought it was just a scrap I had missed. Then I stared at the fabric and it occurred to me that maybe it wasn’t a piece of fabric. Nope, the more I stared the more it began to resemble a snake. Yep, definitely a snake. I found my camera and returned as it coiled into a ball and allowed me to snap a quick photo of it. The flash freaked him out and sent him slithering into a corner of my living room. Since I have no idea how to identify a poisonous snake I decided it had to go. Unfortunately I feel too guilty to tell you how I got rid of the snake. Just know that some other animal(s) had some enjoyable feasts off of its death.

Ants – There are so many types of ants down here it’s crazy. You have the tiny almost microscopic ants that cover any dish that food once touched. You have the bigger sugar ants. Then there are the mean black ants that love to bite and the larger carpenter ants. There’s also the leaf cutter ants that become violent when disturbed. Finally my least favorite ant of all – it’s the flying ants. They are so obnoxious! These ants lay eggs inside walls and doors and then all hatch at once during one lucky sundown and begin flying around your house and ceiling all at once. With hundreds of ants flying around and trying to get into your food, drinks and in your face it gets a little crazy as you’re left to run around with one hand occupied spraying raid everywhere and the other hand swatting down the ants. The only plus side of this is you get in a good workout trying to rid your house of these crazy things.

These are just a few of the animals that I deal with on an almost daily basis. I can’t even describe the number and or size of the wolf spiders I have in every corner of my house.

Can’t wait to discover what’s in store for tomorrow. I’m hoping I’ll come home one day to find a cow in my house like I saw in one house they’re building down the street. At least then I won’t have to kill it.

Don't Disturb The Bear

After mas o menos 30 hours without power, it has returned and I have decided what better time than 2:30AM to update my blog.

For those of you who know me even a little know a few basic rules of what not to do. Unfortunately, due to cultural differences and language barriers, Honduras has not yet clued in to them.

Rule Numero Uno: Think of me as a bear...a bear in hibernation. You do not want to be on the receiving end as the person who wakes me up. Over the past couple of weeks I've been fighting a cold/allergy sinus infection. It finally caught up to me and I called into the health center in the morning to cancel a class I was giving that day. Having taken all the necessary steps of a sick day (i.e., I called into work to let them know I wasn't coming in instead of just not showing up), I took some nyquil and passed out. A few hours later I'm startled out of my sleep by some honking. Hmmm, weird. I recently moved into my new house and was exstatic to not be on any major roads. The only vehicles that pass in front of my house now are those of the four-legged kind. So, clearly this is a surprise to me. Then I hear a couple coworkers from the health center yelling my name. I groggily make my way to the window to discover yes indeed it is my coworkers yelling and honking at me in front of my gate. Still in my pajamas I hastily look for a jacket and shoes and trek outside where it's pouring rain. Still half asleep and very pissed off I go to the gate where my coworkers are happily sitting in their truck (i.e., not sick and standing in the rain in their pajamas) to find out what's the emergency. Yeah, they're just stopping by and want to come in - did I mention they brought my town's Cuban doctora with them. I am horrified. The last thing I want is for my coworkers to see me looking as horribly as I felt or see my somewhat disordely house. I politely, okay as politely as a bear woken out of hibernation, ask them to leave because I wasn't up for visitors. Really? As if that needs to be said. Well, now I'm left to clean up my mess of being the very rude and unhospitable gringa who turned away my coworkers who just stopped by to make sure I was okay. In their defense there are cases of hemorrhagic dengue going around the municipality and they were only looking out for my well-being. In my defense, DON'T DISTURB THE BEAR.

Rule Two: Men - stop being creepy. Married, single, fathers holding their infants in front of their wives/girlfriends, high school boys, elementary school boys, etc., stop trying to pick me up. And stop trying to pick me up in English. The words you are using but clearly have no clue what they mean are highly offensive and I will not stand for it. Just treat me with respect and I'm likely to stop and have a conversation with you.

Final Rule: Don't cut me in line. Hondurans really have no sense of waiting in lines and frequently try to cut. Bus lines, checkout lines at the grocery store, lines at the bank, etc. They love to cut. I didn't learn how to box out from one of the best defensive coaches in basketball, a.k.a. Bob from the Kansas Belles, for nothing. I will hip check you into tomorrow if you try that move on me. Not gonna have it any more!

And that's it. Pretty simple. Wow, this seems like an angry blog post. In reality, I'm not angry at all right now. This helped. Thank you and good day. I SAID good day.

Muere El Gusano, Muere!

The past five months have been a whirlwind of adventure. Here´s the 4-1-1

Mafia Warfare:
My town of Gualaco was caught in the middle of a power-struggle of two rivaling families in Olancho. It consisted of a hitman and four other accomplices being dragged out of their houses during midday on a Sunday only to be led to their deaths. They were taken into the mountains and shot and then the car was set on fire as the assailants fled the scene. This led to a roadblock of about 20 armed men -none were police- being set up in order to catch the assailants. Upon nightfall, a family was passing through and got scared. Unfortunatly, they decided not to stop and were shot down. All the men (including some young teens) in the car were killed or injured, but the women were left unharmed. At this point around 20 deaths had occurred in a 24-hour period and Peace Corps decided to temporarily remove me and the other two nearby volunteers from site. I had the great luck of being sent up to Trujillo where much of my downtime was spent relaxing in a hammock on the beach. The day before we were to receive word as to whether we could return to site or not, a 20-minute shoot-out occurred in the middle of my town and a few more people died. Obviously Peace Corps said we could not go back yet and continued to monitor the situation. About two weeks later when things had cooled down Peace Corps gave me the option to return to site or have a site change. Given that I had never felt unsafe in my community (aside from some moments when the Coups started), I asked them to give me two weeks where I could return to site and see how I felt. Upon returning, I realized my town had this eeiry ghost town feeling where everyone seemed to be afraid to leave their houses even during daylight hours. After a week I started to get in the groove again and things started to feel better. That night three truck loads of armed men began driving through our community, including in front of my apartment, searching for men to kill who were on their hit lists. After this, I decided it was too much. I asked Peace Corps to change my site rather than wait around for another shoot-out to occur.

Site Change:
My new town is still located in the department of Olancho, about two and a half hours southeast of Gualaco. Unfortunately, I am no longer located in the mountains. Instead I am in a very hot valley between two mountain chains. Good bye to cool nights and a very nice studio apartment. My town is much smaller and rural than my last site, but still just as dusty. After only a couple days I had a mental breakdown that involved me sobbing to my mother over the phone while she talked me down from the ledge. As of now I have been in my new town for almost two months and the town is slowly growing on me. I am with my fourth, and hopefully my last, host family. They have a really nice house and have been very good to me. My spanish is improving ever so slightly and I am located only 15 minutes from the city of Catacamas meaning I have access to better food and other volunteers. I have a lot of work in my new town as I have been training the older students to help me out with my health charlas in the high school. Also, I am now teaching basketball and volleyball gym classes once or twice a week. This involves lots of yelling, dragging kids to participate in my drills since they can´t understand my broken spanish, and lots and LOTS of sweating. The kids seem to really like it though and have a lot of fun. Considering the only sport played here is soccer it´s a nice change of pace for the kids.

Despedidas Galore:
The H12 training class that came in a year before us are no longer volunteers. They have graduated from their services. Many are traveling to different parts of central and south america, many are returning home to the glorious and ever-so-comfortable U.S.A., and a few are remaining in Honduras to continue their service or find local non-Peace Corps work. It´s sad to see them go, but even more sad to know that it will be us next year. This past year has gone by so fast and through the good and bad, I cannot imagine being anywhere else. Good luck to all those who have gone and to the rest of us left.