Today started like any other day here in Honduras, with me waking up and taking the first shower. Today, however, I was up a bit early. I open the faucet and let the torrent of warm water pour over me. Afterwards, I grab my book and go out of the room to read because Adolfo and Pengyi are usually still sleeping. I read my book for a few minutes until I can go back in to make sure I'm ready for the day. We go to breakfast... seven o' clock as usual. As we are finishing, Adolfo shows up at HIS usual time every day: seven-thirty.
We head to the worksite in our bus, when I realize that I forgot my gloves that day. So much for preparation!
This morning we do something out of the ordinary: we stop at a local elementary school to visit the kids and hear about the work that Habitat and the Rubiero family have done for the school. We see all the smiling faces of the students who are thrilled to see the people that are helping to build houses in their village. My heart breaks when he says that their own government won't support them because they are a rural school. It was all due to the generosity of generous donors who payed to have the facilities fixed so that the roof wasn't caving in or so that they could get chairs that weren't falling apart or enough textbooks that they outnumbered them 3 students to a book. Like many other detours we took on this trip, it was a life-changing experience.
Today is the day when I hit my wall. That point in the work week when you feel it start to get to you. My body wanted to quit on me, but I wouldn't let it. My pick just kept on driving into the ground, swing after swing, digging out the trenches that will make up the foundation of a house one day. The rest of the group was assigned to different jobs, so I was essentially the only one to work on them the whole morning. Thank God that even though I was hitting my wall, the day was mostly overcast.
We have our lunch. In the afternoon, I go to help mix some more cement for the adobe bricks until our prayers for rain are answered. We quickly cover it up so that the water doesn't ruin it. I go back to swinging heavy tools, this time using a hammer to demolish large boulders and turn them into manageable rocks. Mr. Wells asks us a Physics question about why the water from the cooler seems to flow more quickly from higher up. Bob, Yuan, Gen, and I begin to discuss this and conclude that it shouldn't make a difference. I turn the tables and ask him a philosophy question: "Does the water really flow faster, or is it just an illusion that you perceive?" Soon after, we form what seems to be a circle that looks a bit like the fellowship from the Lord of the Rings, with Mr. Wells standing in his teacher-esque pose and us seated around listening.
We engage our hosts from Honduras in a friendly match of football (the real name for soccer) in which Adolfo decided to support his Latin American amigos. It was a lot of fun, but let's just say that Canada should stick to curling, hockey, and lacrosse. Actually, it was a close game. It came down to penalty shots.
For dinner, we hit our favorite rainforest-like restaurant with the hammocks (which weren't there tonight!). The food was excellent as usual, but what really made the night great was being able to share some laughs with friends. Maybe we ended up sharing our laughs with the entire city. You never realize how loud you're being when it's you.
For my Spanish word of the day, I've chosen something from the local dialect, a slang term: Cheke (CHE-kay). It can mean many things such as okay, yes, good, alright.
Today was very Cheke Leke.
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