Day of rest

May 29, 2011

Yesterday was a bit of a low. With concerns about bad roads, no electricity, and issues with paper work for the bike, I was kind of freaking out. Going to sleep to the sound of rain last night did not seem to bode well. I word vomited my concerns into an email to Aly and tried to go to sleep.

When I woke up, I had a note from Aly. It reminded me that God’s taking care of me, so I shouldn’t worry about the roads. And she told me to offer it up. Bahahaha. Did anyone else’s mom always tell them that at the most annoying times? It was perfect.

I walked myself to mass and tried to offer it up. I know I’ve said this before, but one of my favorite things about mass is that it always feels like home no matter where you are. I know some people don’t love the formality and tradition of the Catholic Church, but let’s talk about incense for a sec. Mass involves the senses: the beauty of the art and architecture, the sound of the music and scripture, receiving the Eucharist, the smell of the incense. Some smells become tightly entwined into our memories so that when we smell them, the places and events they were associated with come flooding back. With the smell of the incense, memories of home parishes washed over me. Knowing the Eucharist was in the tabernacle made me feel God’s presence. I let my concerns slip away and spent the hour and a half mass letting good memories and peace wash over me.

After mass I relaxed at the hotel room until eleven when Baltazar came to pick me up. When I walked out to the bike the sun was shining. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since we last had a sunny day. It was beautiful. A small patch of brilliant blue sky and sunshine followed us to El Cacao. I soaked it up and spent the ride thinking of the mountains of blessings in my life and being thankful for them. The road was dry and as good as it ever is. When I got to El Cacao, Baltazar pointed me in the direction the church and wandered off to play soccer. There was no one there, so I enjoyed the scenery and took a couple pictures. 

Only about 10 kids ended up showing up. It was, of course, not awesome for the survey, but I actually had time to talk to the kids and parents, so the day was more enjoyable. The last kid had some form of MR. He was about ten and kept blowing kisses. Precious. I made my way back to Teresa and Baltazar’s house without any idea what to do with the rest of my day. I talked to their dad and asked if it would be ok if I just wandered around to houses. As I finished up with the second house Teresa arrived. She whipped things into shape, and I had a line of five or ten more kids to round out the day. We made plans for me to come back the following Saturday, and I’m feeling hopeful that next time the community will actually know that I’m coming.

COW BATH!

Survey-wise it was not that successful of a day, but life-wise it was exactly what I needed: slow paced, beautiful, and complete with human interaction. There were two places on the way back to LE that I wished I could stop and take a picture. In this part of Honduras any story could start with, “As we came up over the hill…” So that’s where these scenes took place. We came up over the hill, and I could see out across a small valley with a lake at the bottom. The hill across the lake was brilliantly backlit by a pale blue sky with patches of cotton-ball clouds. The hill itself was a lush green (one good effect of the rainy season), and on top of the hill three or four trees stood individually silhouetted in sharp contrast. It was breath taking. Around another hill, a farm spread out in the shadow of a thundercloud capped mountain. The violent gray blue of the cloud contrasted the rainbow of greens in the patchwork quilt of crops that spread over the farm. The patches were cut into rectangles by stands of sugar cane swaying nervously in the pre-storm wind. It was alive, and I could fell my sense of adventure returning.