Science Fair

Today was the 4th grade Science Fair!
It was so exciting to see the students' final projects and hear them share with the judges and the visiting younger grades about what they learned from their seed experiments. Also, one of my boys won first place overall in the entire 4th grade! I couldn't be prouder!

Here are some pictures from the Fair:

Lago

I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe, and I had no idea where I was stepping. Last Saturday, I went "behind," more like "underneath" a waterfall in Lago de Yojoa, and it was an adventure like no other.

After a day at a tranquil little hotel by the lake, the other teachers and I made the drive to Pulhapanzak to see the infamous waterfall and ziplining area. Several Honduran families were enjoying a Sunday afternoon at the park there, and I saw some strange looks from them as they watched this bus full of gringos unload and go trekking down the cliff-side path to see the waterfall.

The waterfall was magnificent, roaring over the rocks, in a continual downpour. And the returning teachers pointed out where the waterfall tour would begin. "By those rocks down there, and then you go into some caves." Cool, I thought. I don't often do crazy things, with the exception of choosing to move to Honduras for 2 years, and the waterfall tour seemed reasonable enough, with several people emerging from the falls unscathed. So, I convinced myself to go, along with 10 other teachers who decided to brave the tour.

The path curved along nicely down the cliff, then we had to climb over some boulders to get to a large pool of water we had to swim across to get to the tour entrance. That was the point that if you wanted to back out, you could turn around and head back. I looked at the other first-year teachers and saw determination, even if it was the "what have I gotten myself into" kind, in their eyes, and again, pushed myself to continue on.

It was not long before I was soaking wet, standing alongside the others, dripping buckets and squinting into the white mist ahead. I followed the most-experienced waterfall explorer, aside from our Honduran guide, and pressed on toward the next rock. As we neared the falls, the volume increased. The water pounded all around us, making it difficult to hear, and the mist/spray obscured our vision. Everytime I snuck a peek at our location, the swirling white around us made me think we were inside a blizzard. Stepping down, we blindly felt about until we caught each other's hands and then held on for dear life as we made our way across the slippery rocks and into the river. What I thought was going to be a little jaunt through a thin wall of water and into a cave, turned into a torrential threat, which only prayer, adrenaline, and the leading of others carried me through.

You had to keep your head down, and I could only open my eyes at specific intervals where the water stemmed. I took a big gasp of air before I went under, but there were a few times that I realized I couldn't breathe, which fortunately didn't last long. Deprived of my usual senses, I had to completely rely on the person in front of me to guide me where to go and help me find shelter.

Finally, after these initial frightening moments, we reached a rock crevice where we could pause, catch our breath (literally), and stare at each other in utter shock that we underwent such an experience. A little ways past the resting point, the guide told us to crawl up into a cave. I was pretty sure I wouldn't fit, but when I got up there, about 10 of us fit into the space. It was pitch black, and the girls and I tried to comfort and encourage each other, while the guys were outside in the center of the waterfall celebrating the thrill of it all.

The trek back was cake compared to the way there. In fact, there was one section of the walk, where it felt like a light rain, and I thought I could stay there and swim for the afternoon. On the way back, I also jumped off a large boulder into the water, which previously, would have been pretty daring for me, but then, again, we did just walk through a waterfall.

Up the trail and through the gate, we emerged a little shaken, but victorious nonetheless. Some of us would return and do it again in a heartbeat, and some of us are still saying, "never again in our lives." All I'll say is, it was definitely an experience to remember!

The "After" Shot

Logic

The other day, one of my students comes to school with a sizable hole in his P.E. shirt.
First, he grabs tape off my desk to try to tape the hole shut.
Later on in the day, he finds a few paper clips and tries to pin it shut.
And finally, when the tape and paper clips have failed, he uses the stapler to put an end to the hole.
I watched the progression of "solutions" and had to smile, when he came to me and said, "I need a new shirt."
Ah, the logic of 4th grade boys.

And, thinking about it more, this story resembles the logic we often use, as God's children. We see the problems/sin in our lives and try silly ways of fixing it on our own, relying on our own attempts until we finally realize that its impossible-we need a new shirt. We need God to clothe us anew in his forgiveness and redemption through the blood of Christ. Is it not until we are more mature in realizing this, that we realize right away that only Christ can mend our lives.

Revelation 7:15
And he said, "These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, "they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them.

Matthew 9:17
Neither do men pour new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins will burst, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved."

La Catracha

Saturday morning, we trekked up the hill to school for Fiesta La Catracha. "Catracha" is another name for "Honduran," and this festival was an incredible glimpse into Catracha culture and history. The fiesta is almost completely put on/organized by students, and I was very impressed at the quality of everything from traditional performances to information booths.

The school was transformed with banners and balloons, and everyone was dressed in traditional Honduran attire. The festival kicked off with an adorable parade of preschool-kindergarteners demonstrating different parts of Honduran history (vaqueros para ninos y vestidos para ninas) and representing the different Central American countries as they marched to the sound of the xylophone band. The parade ended in the main/H.S. polli and parents, teachers, and the rest of the school squeezed into the bleachers to try to get a good view. Videocameras galore.

There were several events throughout the day that gave me further insight into Catracha culture/people. The juniors and seniors had set up these amazing booths (complete with bamboo poles and palm branches as roofs) about each region in Honduras; you walked into a booth and they told you everything you wanted to know about each region (in English!). Each booth had the typical/most important produce and handicrafts from that area and delicious samples of food known from that area. It made me desperately want to travel! Copan is top on my list; then Roatan, but eventually, I'd love to go everywhere.

Other events included a fashion show (2 of my students were in this), traditional dancing where they pulled people from the crowd onstage, a historical museum, performances from different grade levels, and overall socializing while enjoying plates of delicious Honduran cuisine.

It was a wonderful experience to learn more about Honduras, as well as see the closeness of the IST community. I'm so thankful to be part of it!

Honduran Opera

This Friday, our North American Community Coordinator (NACC) announced that someone had donated a set of 25 free tickets to see the Honduran Opera for any N. American teacher that wanted to go. I learned this information too late to make the 25, but added my name as ticket #26 just in case. Some other teachers followed suit, and added their names after mine.

Friday afternoon arrived and the NACC sent word that the school had extra tickets. Everyone who signed up could go! I was ecstatic-looking forward to my first time at an opera and a different kind of cultural experience. Five-thirty rolled around and the IST bus came to pick us up. Everyone was dressed to the nines and we complimented each other on looking fantastic.

The opera house is located in a different part of El Centro (downtown) that I'd never been to, and it was an interesting ride seeing this part of town at night. Our bus flew down the narrow, pothole filled streets, and we passed many people standing on the curb, waiting for collectivos to bring them home from work, 4 people at a time.

The opera house was smaller than I imagined it to be, after having seen Opera houses in Italy and the U.S., but elegant nonetheless. Composed of a slanted main floor with a balcony above, the opera house was a cozy contrast to the three-tiered performance centers where you are one in a thousand people. Our tickets allowed us to sit anywhere, so I sat with some other teachers in the red, velvet chairs in the balcony. We felt important and had a great view of the orchestra, singers, Italian town backdrop, and the audience below and across. Before the opera began another teacher and I puzzled through the English synopsis of the play, trying to identify the characters and the basic points of the plot. I never realized how baffling Italian operas could be.

As the orchestra began its first notes, we quickly realized that this was not the full opera performance-but a dress rehearsal with snippets of songs from the actual opera. Nonetheless, the singers' voices blew me away. The musical range and amount of projection they were able to express seemed impossible for the human voice. Let's just say our operatic impersonations did not even come close.



The opera-rehearsal lasted maybe an hour, complete with a 15 minute intermission in the middle, where we could walk around the house and explore its hidden treasures, like the series of windows/doors that opened up to balconies with beautiful views of the city lights and even Picacho (the Jesus statue). Afterwards, we mingled in the "ballroom" and enjoyed free samples of Honduran wine. It was an evening to remember!

Los Pinares

For a few weeks now, I've been attending Iglesia Impacto with a group of other IST teachers. Last Sunday, the staff of our "sister" school (Los Pinares-the other bilingual, Christian international school in town) invited us up for a potluck lunch. It was so fun to connect with other international school teachers and swap stories. Not surprisingly, we have had very similar experiences teaching in Honduras. Los Pinares is located up on the hill, and it was a long adventure on their bus as we made our way around the blind curves of the road. Their school feels a lot like a college campus/dorm, because the teachers live in apartments right next to the school, and because they are so far away from the downtown area of the city, they do not get many chances to get off the hill, besides church, shopping, and cultural excursions. Thankfully, just recently, they built a little tiendita (store) within walking distance of the school.

After a series of introductions, an incredible meal, and a tour of their school, we went over to their huge, indoor gym to play soccer. It was strange to me how chilly/foggy it was up on the hill, and having not brought a sweater, I ended up using some curtains someone was borrowing as a shawl. When they explained to me how to get back down the hill, it seemed really complicated and, being new to Tegucigalpa, a way that I would most likely get lost. So, thankfully, all the IST teachers who came (6) were able to squish into Matt's tiny red car and drive down the mountain together. Altogether, it was a great adventure and an amazing time of fellowship and encouragement before the week ahead.