A Prison, an Orphanage and a Trip

So, where were we?

I have moved schools and moved families. I cannot say enough good things about my new school, Celas Maya. I wish I had been here three weeks ago, but then I wouldn't have met Erin. And if I had been happy at my old school, I never would have known that Celas or Pop Wuj, my next school, existed. So all in all, I have no complaints. But in a word, this school is exactly what I wanted. It is big, but I am on a first name basis with the staff. It is gorgeous and pleasant and homey. It has an internet cafe on site, a tour company on site, a hostel on site, and a volunteer coordinator on site. I have been impressed again and again by the professionalism of the staff and the teachers, who all have degrees in teaching Spanish as a Second Language. We filled out our weekly evaluations today and they asked us to rate every aspect of our experience with the teachers, staff, homestays, properties and Xela, including "Do you feel safe at the school and in the city?"

My homestay is the polar opposite of my first family. I am living with a single woman who has a darling granddaughter and a male relative that lives in the house during the week, because he can't find work in the rural area he lives in and must work in Xela. My room is small but tidy and I have a bedside table and can turn out the overhead light from bed. It's amazing the things I get excited about now. I have a twin bed, which was hard to get used to, but I will only be sleeping in it another few weeks. I also live with a Chihuahua named Boom Boom. Boom Boom pees in the shower, which grosses me out a little bit. But I think that my housemom isn't able to walk him at night because it isn't very safe. Mostly the pee is washed down the drain but sometimes she forgets, and I find it in the morning. Our house is located across the street from the school. So I leave for my 8 o'clock class at 8 o'clock. We live three blocks from Parque Central, which is a perfect location but can get a little loud at night. We don't have near as much interaction as in my first homestay. If I would have let her, A. would have moved into my room with me. It was good to feel like I was part of their family, but I also felt a little smothered, and I always felt rude when I shut my door. The new homestay feels like a hostel in the off season, where the owner has the time to take meals with you. I am happy with it. But the whole concept of homestays in general can be off putting. It is very strange to be an adult guest in a stranger's home and have no control over when you eat, what you eat, if you want a cup of coffee, etc. I really want to come back to Xela to study and work in the future, but I think I will rent an apartment next time. I feel like once you've had the homestay experience there really isn't a good reason to do it again.

Oh! The best part about the new school is Tom. Tom is my Robin. Allow me to explain. In Antigua, MRM lived in a homestay with another student, Robin. Robin was a Southern grandmother on an 3 month layover in Antigua before moving to Honduras for the next three years. We fell in love with her. She was so sweet and so earnest and so inviting and welcoming. And I was sad that I hadn't met my own Robin here in Xela. But my sadness evaporated this week when I met Tom, who is probably in his late 50s and has this wonderful bushy moustache and messy hair and this thick Southern accent. He is lovely. He talks very loudy and is so excited about EVERYTHING and loves to practice his Spanish and refers to everything about his time here as "ex-cel-ahn-te". He went to the womens prison with us today and was asking one of the women if he could buy some earrings and the ladies thought he wanted the earrings for himself and got the biggest kick out of him. I am really happy that in a universe as enormous as the one we live in, Tom and I happened on the same school in the highlands this summer. He really is fantastic.

So, today was a normal class day until break, at which point some of us went to the local womens' detention center for the rest of the morning. We donated money this week to buy them things like toilet paper and soap and sanitary napkins, none of which are supplied by the government. We arrived there and I thought I had never seen a more depressing "office." I am not a huge fan of detention centers, especially in developing countries. The front office was painted this suffocating teal color and it was lit by one naked light bulb and a single flickering fluorescent tube. Both of which unnerved me immediately. There was a desk and a metal filing cabinet and a small TV in the corner playing a squiggly Adam Sandler movie. We had to line up and have our right forearm stamped twice and then we were patted down, a lot, and then allowed to enter into the area where the women live. There were 40 women being detained, for everything from shoplifting to homicide. They remain there while their investigations are ongoing. This can last months, or years. At which point they are either freed, or sent to the maximum security institution in Guat City. They are allowed to have their children there with them if they are babies, but all of the women I talked to had anywhere from 3 to 9 kids that were being raised by relatives. They live in two dorm rooms, and they are locked in those rooms from 6pm to 6am. There is one toilet with no seat and no toilet paper and no sink to wash oneself. The women take classes in English and on the computer when there is someone to teach them. There is a clinic on site that featured one bed, no sheets, and one glass fronted cabinet with no medicines or supplies of any kind in it. I asked them what they do when they get sick, and where do the medicines come from and they said, They don't. The women make small handicrafts and that is their sole source of income. I bought a pair of earrings and a cloth bracelet. After our tour, we just split up and talked to the women and learned their stories. I talked to about 8 women and basically just asked the same 6 questions that I could think of. I heard several Mayan languages for the first time while there, which was really neat. When a woman has misbehaved in some way, she is put in solitary, and the solitary cell put the fear of God in me. The whole experience was interesting and not a little depressing. No one can afford a private attorney. They are there with no idea how long their investigations and trials will take. Many of them had scars from what I imagine was some form of partner abuse, and most of them were illiterate. Our money bought each woman one roll of toilet paper, a toothbrush, a bar of soap and 4 sanitary napkins.

After lunch today my friend Olivia and I headed to the orphanage to see about volunteering. I was expecting a tour, which we got. And then we were put in a room with 12 unsupervised kids, aged 1 to about 4. We spent several hours there, and decided to work there 3 afternoons a week while we are both students here. It was fun and a little harrowing. Most of the kids in the orphanage still have families, but their families are so unsafe that (in a country that isn't known for child advocacy) they are being raised in state custody for their own protection. It was hard for me to imagine a more traumatic environment than the orphanage itself. The youngest child was less than a year old, and he is a true orphan. The older children were in their teens. Olivia and I spent most of our time with the "babies" and I think maybe the hardest thing I have ever done is put the little one in his crib before I left, watched him scream and cry at our departure, and leave the room, knowing that there wasn't anyone to stay and look after them all once we had left. The is a staff of maybe 5 people, who are wonderful, but they are spread so thin and have so much work, that the kids are on their own for a good portion of the time. There was a girl there, I never learned her name, who was a new addition. I don't think I have seen, before now, a child that I would classify as clinically depressed. But she seemed just numb with grief. There was another little boy there who is also a true orphan, who has spent his whole life there, and it just boggles my mind that people grow up in these places. I feel like I want to say a whole lot more about the experience, which was so incredibly exhausting but simultaneously rewarding, but I don't know how to communicate it. I am excited about getting to know these kids better, and at the same time I never want to see them again, because they make my heart ache.

Last night was my graduation dinner at my old school. It was really special, and I wasn't expecting that. It was wonderful to see Joaquin again (who has promised to go see Eclipse with me when it comes out) and be with Erin for one last night, but it ultimately reaffirmed for me that I have made the right decision in leaving the school. I met two other students there who I think will become friends. One is also planning on becoming a midwife and the other is a sexual assault crisis counselor, like me, and is really interested in issues of womens advocacy and reproductive justice. I also met a pediatrician last night and we had a really good talk about maternal health and international practice etc., etc. The night ended with one last evening at the school playing drinking games with the guys and Erin. I don't think it is possible to find guys who are more immature than the ones at my old school. And alcohol only makes them that much more childish. I enjoyed Erin's company tremendously, but was so happy to finally call a taxi and escape to the boring comfort of my new homestay and my bedside table and my books.

Tomorrow, Olivia and I have decided to go to the beach for the weekend. I think another student, Susannah, is coming with us. Susannah is in Boston University´s (my almost alma mater) Master's of Public Health program, and is down here doing an internship working with giardia, which is a nasty little parasite. Also joining us on the beach is Olivia's roommate, Stefan. The plan for the weekend is to do as little as possible, and to do it from a hammock, with a drink in hand. It is baby turtle releasing season, so we are going to try to do that. And we have been told that there is a lovely sunrise tour of the lagoons by boat that is worth getting up in the dark for.

Hope this finds you all well! I will be in touch next week. XOXOXO