By Wednesday, I was almost running on empty. The dust from tearing down a structure the day before + the neighbors burning something in a big barrel all day did a number on my lungs, throat and sinuses. Two build teams went out on Wednesday to the village of Mola Loa (excuse the spelling if I am wrong). This village is largely populated and loved by most everyone who has been there in the past. It is very mountainous (that sounds ridiculous even as I type it since everywhere is!) and hard to get to build sites. The houses to be built were relatively close together and the wood had been delivered and the sites cleared! Always a good thing. Most of the Homewood group went to a site to build a house in memory of a young man named Ty Osman. He was a dear friend of our very own Katherine Stewart and passed away in a tragic accident during spring break. The Stewart family raised money to build a house in his honor - he had been to this village himself on a mission trip and he and Katherine shared the bond of that. The house build was led by two of Katherine's friends, Erin Castleman and Savannah Presley. I was not on the site because there were too many people but I have heard that they did a sensational job and it was an emotional but good day. I was on the other house site. It was a hard build but a good one led by brothers, Larry and Jerry Sawyer. I had woken up with a cough and as the heat of the day along with the sawdust progressed, I felt worse and worse. By the time we made our way down the mountain, my throat was on fire, my head hurt and my voice was gone. Many were shocked that I had lost my voice - but I think they were grateful! Ha! That night we loaded up to go to the Jesus Statue. It is about halfway down the mountain that we stay on and is about 70 feet high and made of concrete. It is a statue of Jesus with his hands outstretched to the city below. The view is spectacular and we had a great time of worship. Once we returned to Villa Gracia, my dear friend, Nikki, gave me a superduper dose of a cough syrup with codeine in it and I started an antibiotic. I slept really well that night! My voice was hoarse but back the next morning. Now, a week later, I still have a cough but am better.
On Thursday, the Homewood group went out to build our last dedicated house. It was in honor of our youth minister and his wife, Tim & Andrea Mills. Once again, we had to haul wood to the site .... back, back, back to a beautiful, big grassy spot. Not a hard build but a hot one. Steve Castleman and Charles Dismuke led this house which was awesome since this was their first time to go on the Honduras trip. Very smart men! Of course, Koski was with us as well! The kids from Homewood are such hard workers. Don't know if I have mentioned this or not but a man from South Carolina told everyone his goal was to "work like a girl" - he was speaking mainly of the Homewood girls. All of our kids worked hard every day, built a whole bunch of houses, hauled wood great distances and several moved tons of cinder block from one place to another.
On Friday, I had the opportunity to go to a special needs orphanage. I was interested in this because I work with special needs children for a living. I was surprised that it was realtively clean, all the children were up either walking around, in wheelchairs or strollers and they themselves were clean. I toured most of the facility and the rooms were pleasant and tidy. Remember to put this all in perspective though. Clean in Honduras is not clean in America. There were all of ages of children from about 2 through young adults. I fell in love with a little girl named Paola. She was beautiful. She had very low muscle tone, was blind and appeared to be ill. They allowed me to help change her clothes and take her out of the stroller. She had fever, a rattle in her chest and a cough. I carried her down to a breezeway where we could get some fresh air. Ellen held her for a few minutes and she was going to sleep. A worker came and held her nose so that she wouldn't go to sleep. This disturbed Ellen and me. At lunchtime they tried to let us help feed some of the children. The children had feeding issues and the food they gave us to feed them was not easy to swallow. I finally had to turn it over to one of the workers. She literally shoved a big mouthful of food in the little girl's mouth and pushed it down her throat. It was hard for me to watch.
After lunch we loaded the bus and were taken to another orphanage downtown. It was called Casitas Kennedy. There appeared to be mostly teen girls some of who were pregnant. We were there at the dance class time and were invited in to watch - the teacher had different small groups get up and perform "dances" to Honduran music. It was not very appropriate - then, she called up a boy and girl around 10 years of age. They did a very provacative dance that made all of us uncomfortable. After that, I had my interpreter go and tell her thank you but that we did not have much time left and we wanted to go back out to the playground to spend some time playing with the children. Once outside I saw a young man who appeared to be in the medical profession. He introduced himself and told me a little about the place. He was Honduran but spoke perfect English and was in his last semester of school to be a psychologist. He told me that the home was run by the government and picked up kids off the streets. Alot of them were teen girls who had been raped and were now pregnant. He was there to counsel one of them. It was a hard and emotional day for us all.
Saturday was the last work day for our team. We went to the city dump to feed lunch. We first went to Mi Esperanza to purchase with a purpose. Mi Esperanza is the organization that my friend Lori Connell started to help women support their families by teaching them a skill. They can choose from sewing, computers, hair stylist, manicurist or if they have a skill sometimes get a loan to start a business. After we shopped for souvenirs and gifts for our friends, the kids laid out bread on wooden benches and started an assembly line of bologna, cheese and mayo. When they finished the sandwiches we loaded back on the buses and headed toward the dump. We made a stop to buy fruit and another stop to buy bags of water. The dump is a melting pot of trash, people, cattle and vultures. As big garbage trucks make their way up to the top of the mountain to dump what the rest of us consider trash, these people wait eagerly for. When a truck starts to dump its load, all of the things mentioned above swarm to get the best vantage point to dig through it. The smell is horrid, the people filthy and the air stagnant. A few handed sandwiches, fruit and a cookie to the people lined up at the back of the bus. The rest of us unloaded and passed out water. These people don't get a lot of physical touch so we are encouraged to touch them. A pat on the shoulder or arm, to not be afraid to shake their hand. The children are the hardest part for me. Once we were back on the bus and headed out you could hear a pin drop. Everyone was in their own world and several of the girls were crying. We had all cleaned our hands as best we could and I got tissues out and walked down the aisle giving them tissues. Sometimes there are no words. They just needed to process on their own.
We went back to Villa Gracia and a storm was coming. Several of us had signed up to go down the hill a little ways to a home for abused teen girls that is run by an American missionary and his wife. It was an incredibly beautiful place that was built as a private home in the 1960's. The view was like nothing I had ever seen. We took fixings for ice cream sundaes, fingernail polish, make-up, hair things and things to make jewelry with. We had never been there before and were warned that they might not open up to us or accept our visit. We were thrilled with our time there. It was a great visit and the girls smiled if only for a brief moment. Our teen girls did a great job of interacting with them and making them feel special.
It was a great way to end our time of work. I have failed to mention the time of worship that we had every night while in Honduras. We sing praise songs, have a devo from a volunteer and then the floor is opened up for people to speak about where they saw God that day. It is a special time and I will keep those moments in my heart and mind forever. The relationships get closer, the work gets done as we get more experienced and hopefully, God is glorified in every second we are there.
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