It only took two days

It was Monday and our first work day at Guadalupe's house in San Isidro. After a breakfast of huevos rancheros, red beans, fresh melon and locally-grown coffee, the twenty-seven mission workers climbed into the back of a truck for the thirty minute ride along a rough, curvy, gravel road into San Isidro. San Isidro was not much more than a community of a few houses and a little store along the road. The Heart to Honduras compound was the hub of the community with its office and large, open shed for storing vehicles and supplies. We jumped out of the truck and loaded the bed with all the lumber needed to build two houses and the generator, known as "El Diablo" because of its massive size. Once loaded with materials, two of the four teams climbed up on top of the lumber for the short ride to our building sites. Guadalupe's block foundation and concrete floor were already in place when we arrived. It was situated on a narrow piece of land between a valley and a barbed wire fence along a dirt road. There was about three feet of clearance on each side of the house. A second house was being built down a path behind Guadalupe's house only assessable by squeezing along the barbed wire fence. All the lumber and El Diablo had to be unloaded from the truck. Half of the lumber was stacked for Guadalupe's house and the other half had to be carried down the path to the other location. It is amazing how quickly a simple 18' x 16' house can be constructed. Our team was made up of three men, five women and a Heart to Honduras construction leader. Since Guadalupe did not have electricity, El Diablo was fired up and the building commenced. I found a lightweight hammer and I hammered nails into the two-by-fours and siding. By lunch time, all the stud walls were up and the wood siding had been started. We climbed back into the truck and rode over to the office for a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while resting on the concrete paving of the compound. By the end of the second day, the simple house with two doors and windows was complete. To most Americans, we would consider it a shed or garage but to Guadalupe it was a mansion. Before starting construction, our team was able to visit Guadalupe's house which was down a slight hill from the new house. I could not believe she and her husband along with their twins, Ande and Andre, were living in such conditions. It was basically a shed made of planks with a piece of tin leaning against it to keep out some of the rain. The floor was hard, packed dirt. We had immediately noticed a jagged, broken mirror leaning on the wall and decided to buy her a new one when we went into Santa Cruz on Wednesday to buy items for the house.

Is this really happening?

The mission trip to Honduras is history so I must record my observations so that they are not history as well. I was excited and scared when I arrived at the airport at 4 a.m. on Saturday, March 12th, for our flight to San Pedro Sula, Honduras. My brother, Jimmy, asked me, "Have you ever asked yourself, 'Is this really happening?'" Well, yes, I have!

I had that same feeling Sunday morning when I woke up in Honduras to the sound of strange birds and crowing roosters. After breakfast we hiked up Ambassador Mountain to see the grave of Charlie Smith, the founder of Heart to Honduras.

In the afternoon we visited the home of the women for whom we would be building a house during the week. Her name is Guadalupe and she has twin boys, Ande and Andre. When I wrote my blog about her the week before I left, I could not even imagine that a family could live in such a "house" as the place where Guadalupe and her family were living. It was basically a shed made of wooden slats with spaces between them and a hard, packed dirt floor. One of the things we noticed when we visited on Sunday was a broken piece of mirror propped up on the wall. We decided then we would buy her a new mirror at the end of the week.

On Sunday night we had a wonderful Tilapia dinner at a restaurant before visiting a local church for service. There was much singing and dancing. The children would pull our hands for us to come and dance with them. I am no dancer but they didn't give us an option. I noticed a little girl behind me was not dancing. She seemed shy. I smiled and took a clothes pin on which we had written "Amigo/Friend" off my shirt and clipped it on her shirt. Later, she tapped me and held out a dirty, NASCAR elastic hair band for me to put on my wrist. She was wearing one on her wrist. I felt guilty for taking it from her since they have so little but how could I turn down such a gift. I wore it faithfully for a week. I didn't get the little girl's name but I won't forget her generosity.

A House in a Week

I am leaving for Honduras in a day. The packing is done. The last minute motion sickness medicine has been bought. The "to-do" list is almost done. My sister and I had lunch today and visited with our mom in the nursing home. We told her that her three children were heading out on a missions trip to Honduras on Saturday. She and my dad were there on a missions trip in 1979. We are not sure she understood us but we felt good about telling her.

My sister asked me if I could even know how the woman in Honduras is feeling today knowing that in a week she will have a new home, one with a concrete floor. Honestly, I can't. I lived the first four years of my life without an indoor bathroom but I was too little to really care. I have never lived without electricity. I have certainly never lived on a dirt floor. I cannot even imagine such a thing. By this time next week, I will have a picture of that woman and her new house. I am hoping that by this time next week I will understand just a little bit how she feels.

Countdown to Honduras

I am leaving for Honduras in a week.  I am a little paniced because I have not yet packed.  You see I pride myself in being a last minute packer.  It is a holdover from my trade show days when I could pack for a week an hour before I left for the airport on Sunday.  The hardest decision was deciding between the red/navy or black/grey wardrobes.  Packing for Honduras is not that simple.  As the handbook says, "It is more about what NOT to pack than what to pack."  I should have started packing ten weeks ago like my sister did but I will get it done.  I will be on the plane sans makeup, jewelry and hairdryer.  I will have all my Goodwill clothes washed, ready to wear and leave.  I will have a hat that will stay on my head during a 30 minute ride in the back of a truck.  I will have a borrowed camera not my D40 Minolta.  I will have my bug spray, Cipro, anti-dirrahea medicine, bandaids and Tylenol.  I will have my Bible and my journal.

But the most important thing I will pack is an open heart.  I plan to leave everything behind including a little bit of me.  I want to drink in the experience of helping people who really need the help but never ask for it.  I want the freedom to dance in worship with a bunch of strangers and a few good friends.  I want to feel a cold shower so I can appreciate a hot one.  I want to share an awesome trip with the two people who have known me the longest, my sister and brother.  Who cares if my hair is straight and I forgot the ?????  Seven days and counting.