An American Tourist

May 22, 2011

Mass was interesting today. In the gospel for the day, Jesus says he is “the way, the truth, and the light.” The 8am mass is a children’s mass so the priest was warning against the other paths of the world and warned the children to not get piercings because they are the way of the devil. I tried not to laugh and wondered if the woman next to me had noticed my nose ring.

When I got home from mass and grocery shopping I found Teresa waiting for me. I already mentioned her fabulous news, but beyond that it was nice to have some one to go out to lunch with. She asked me how my week was, and I asked her about her week – I know, not a big deal, but that was the first time I got more than “I cooked” as a response so it felt like a triumph. We also talked a bit about the clinics in the communities. I thought they were all the same, but I guess the clinic in Las Mercedes is actually a big deal because it is supposed to be a place where women can give birth, and there are supposed to be doctors that can handle more than primary care. I guess Rio Grande has a health center rather than a clinic, and they only handle basic primary care? I’m not sure if there is a doctor in Rio Grande or not. San Nicolas has a doctor. They do primary care and at least minor emergencies because I know they can do stitches. As I was thinking about the three clinics I noticed one of these things is not like the other. Rio Grande and San Nicolas have over a hundred families each. Las Mercedes has 20-40. Rio Grande and San Nicolas treat their water, have a store of some sort, and look at least somewhat developed. Las Mercedes not so much. Then I spotted a problem. Where would a doctor live out here? I live in what’s supposed to be the delivery room. When the clinic design was explained to me, there was no place meant to be living quarters for staff. There aren’t exactly rooms for rent around here. I suppose the doctor can drive in from La Esperanza. Hope women around here have their babies at convenient hours.

There’s also the problem of doctors adjusting to life in rural areas. This was a big topic in our Health Systems class. It’s always difficult to attract doctors to rural areas, even in the US. In Honduras they have a civil service year of medical training, so I suppose the government will just send someone whether they like it or not, but they certainly didn’t choose a location that would make it easier on the doctor. As I get to know the communities better, I’m realizing that there is a pretty big difference between rural and urban society here. The closer I get to La Esperanza (the city), the easier it is for me to relate to the people I meet. I assume it would be the same for Honduran doctors since they are generally from the cities. Peers are going to be few and far between for the doctors that are sent here. If Las Mercedes were a good location for the locals, then I’d say the doctors could just suck it up for a year, but I’m not really sure about that either. Like I said, there aren’t that many families in Las Mercedes. Maybe it was chosen as a central location? Who knows. But it’s here, and it’s a nice building.

When I got back to the hotel, I packed and made some phone calls in anticipation of leaving that afternoon. However, when Gustavo showed up he didn’t have his backpack. It turned out that we weren’t so much leaving La Esperanza as leaving the hotel. I had told him that I didn’t leave the hotel on Saturday. I didn’t leave because it was raining, but I wasn’t complaining. I come to La Esperanza because my hotel room has a door and I can use the internet. In most other aspects I prefer Las Mercedes. It’s beautiful, it’s quiet, and no one yells, “What’s up, Mami?” or “Oye, Sexy” in almost recognizable English. In any case, he was there to take me sight seeing, and I appreciated the gesture. First we went to La Gruta, the Marian grotto to Our Lady of Lourdes. 

Gustavo seemed to be under the impression that Mary had appeared at this Grotto, but it pretty clearly said “Our Lady of Lourdes,” so I doubt that. I tried to explain the story, but I get the apparitions mixed up and gave up pretty quickly. There are some worn steps up the hill behind the Grotto and we climbed them for a gorgeous panoramic view of La Esperanza. From there we headed out to a park with waterfalls. If any one wants to go there on next year’s mission trip, you just go to the grotto and take the road on the left at the bottom of the grotto steps. Follow it around the left side of the grotto hill, and it’s maybe a mile down. The small park is designed with the classic combination of beautiful scenery and odd, slightly whimsical plaster statues.

There is a clump of trees over my left shoulder. My hotel is right behind them. I'm standing right above the grotto.

sweet fish thingys

My tour guide, Gustavo. I sort of surprised him with this pic but he still managed to go all asian tourist on me. And a waterfall.

sad, one-armed, eyeless, plaster frog

happy dolphin near a waterfall. 

We hung out in the park for a while and I seized another opportunity to ask a local what he thinks of the country’s political, educational, and health situations. Gustavo seemed to feel like the Honduran people had voted for Porfirio Lobo, but he laughed and explained it was complicated when I asked about the situation with the OEA (who won’t recognize Lobo because he was put in power by a coup) **UP DATE: Since I wrote this, Lobo and Zelaya signed the Cartagena Agreement. Honduras is back in the OEA, and Zelaya is back in the country**.

When the conversation moved to education, he told me that last year the schools were only open for about 120 days of the year. The previous year they had been open for ~80, but that was the year of the coup. He blames the government-affiliated teacher’s union. I don’t know much about American unions, but I think this one is different in that it was appointed by the congress and has some legal authority. For example, it says how may days a year the teachers will work, and that the teachers get paid during strikes. Gustavo also complained about the quality of education. He certainly isn’t the first person to tell me that the curriculum isn’t very good. To be a health promoter, he went to the usual 6 years of primary school, 3 years of preparatory school, and 3 more years for a degree that starts with a B (I think it’s a generic term for an advanced degree, but I can’t pronounce it and therefore can never remember the word).

When we talked about his own job, he said the government is having trouble paying some of its health workers. That seems to be a fairly common problem here. I wouldn’t say I was surprised the government is inconsistent about paying it’s workers, but I was expecting it less in the health field because I know Honduras has a big World Bank loan for vaccinations. Vaccinations are part of his job. I wonder what salary issues will do to the success Honduras has had with its vaccination program. Vamos a ver (we’ll see).

Add these words to your vocab:

Catracho: noun or adjective. Cool/trendy person/Hondureñan

Cheque – ok. It was explained to me that the catrachos like getting their paychecks and this somehow evolved into cheque meaning ok.