pres-i-dent

president: (n) the highest executive officer of a modern republic

October 8, 2010

Rumors circulated through our tiny school yesterday that the President of Honduras, Porfirio "Pepe" Lobo Sosa, was coming to La Union on Friday. By the time lunch rolled around, not only was the President of Honduras coming, but some of our students were going to see him. At our afterschool teacher's meeting and devotional, not only were some students going to see the President who was coming on Friday, but they were going to sing the country's national anthem for him as well. These words came directly from Mr. Perdomo, making it as official as it can be here in La Union. I walked home from the meeting and completely forgot about it all.

Today was freezing cold. Winter began a few weeks back here in the mountains, though it is not like winter at home in Michigan. I would say that winter in La Union, Honduras is much like March and April in Michigan, or at least so far. Cold, cloudy, and that misty rain that just chills you to the core. Heaters, like street names, are non-existent here which means there is no escaping the cold. Knowing that there was a hot shower waiting for me was my only motivation throwing off my cold covers and walking into the even colder bathroom at 5:00 in the morning. Brr! I bundled up as much as I could with the few cold weather clothes I brought here from home before walking to school.

During our morning staff gathering, the President story had changed again. This time we were ALL going to see the President. Right. Wasn't told when, wasn't told where, wasn't told how, though I assumed we would be walking. Perhaps I was told, in Mr. Perdomo's rapid fire Spanish which I have an impossible time keeping up with. Either way, I had no idea what was going on. Later I was told we were leaving after lunch. Perfect. Shortly after 11 a.m., the President's helicopter landed on the town's soccer field, the only flat place in any town around here. We were no longer leaving after lunch, we were leaving now. I lined up my 5th graders at the door and waited for further instruction… which never came. Everyone just started leaving, so we followed the crowd. It turned out to be a very familiar walk, we walked almost the entire way back to my house on the opposite side of town.

A platform was set up in the street outside the internet café down the hill from the Catholic Church. It was decorated in blue and white, the national colors, and surrounded with people. Thousands of people from La Union, and thousands more from all the villages in the municipality, were gathered in the street. A semicircle of a few hundred plastic chairs was set up for the audience, which of course was completely swallowed up. People stood on roof tops, on pick-up trucks, and all along the street. Somehow we were able to get our students up to the corner of the stage, where we stood, and waited, and waited. I realized I did not have my camera, and that now would probably have been a really good time to have it. Nelsy, now a 9th grader, and I broke away from the crowd and ran up the street to my house. On the way back down the hill I finally realized, and was able to see, just how many people were here. I noticed all the security personnel for the first time as well. Snipers, police, military, and of course the media. The Honduran media was the easiest to spot with their huge DSL cameras and video cameras, designer sunglasses and polo shirts. I laughed to myself and continued down the hill, pushing my way through the crowd to find my fifth graders again. When I finally reached them I was greeted with, "Miss Klos, we're hungry!" "Miss Klos, can I go home?" "Miss Klos, they've played this song at least a hundred times." Yes, the President had scheduled his arrival just in time for our kids to miss their lunch. Town is small, and most kids could see their houses from where we stood, but we could not let them leave. I tried my best to keep them hydrated and entertained. In an attempt to drown out the song on repeat blaring through the town, I started singing "Wade in the Water" a song I had taught them earlier this year, my voice unfortunately could not out-sing the loud speakers.

After an hour and a half of standing in the street a cheer erupted from down the hill. The President was finally coming. His caravan drove up the road as far as it could before the sea of people no longer allowed its motion. President "Pepe" stepped out of the car and started waving and shaking hands with everyone. I stuck my camera in the air and started snapping as many pictures as I could. As he made his way up the hill he walked right through our group, and by group I mean our entire student population. He stopped by Miss Melindez, who was further down the hill with some of the kids. He put his hands on her shoulders and seemed to talk to her forever, are you two friends? I was somewhere between confused and amazed. The smile on her face could not be contained and erupted into laughter when he turned from her and continued on his way up the hill. He was walking straight toward us. Some pushy media guru started yelling at my kids to make an aisle for him to walk through. As their teacher I was amazed on how quickly they responded and had created a perfect walkway for the President. I put as many of my kids to the edge of the aisle as I could and stood behind them still snapping pictures. He was SO CLOSE. Closer, closer, and then he was right in front of me with his back turned, waving at the crowd and shaking hands with my students on the other side of the aisle. He turned around, just as I held my camera out over the heads of the kids in front of me to get a closer shot, and held out his hand to me. I felt like a fool scrambling to get the camera out of my hand so I could shake his. Everyone around me was cheering and yelling, squealing came from the seventh graders standing behind me. It was so loud that when President "Pepe" spoke to me I could not hear him, so I responded deafly with, "I'm their teacher at the bi-lingual school," nodding to the boys in front of me. He laughed and grabbed my arm saying, "Do you want a picture?" Before I could even respond he was pulling me through the three rows of fifth grade boys in front of me. I stumbled out into the aisle and he put his arm around me. When I looked up there was a HUGE media camera in my face and without thinking I shoved my point and shoot Cannon in his hand and said, "Here, take one with mine." The President chuckled, smiled for MY camera, and the media camera, shook my hand again and pushed forward.



I could feel my jaw hanging from my own face when I turned around, the kids were wearing the same expression. "MISS KLOS! You got a picture with the president! Let me see, let me see!" I couldn't help laughing as I knelt down to show my students the picture. Mr. Valdez and Mr. Perdomo came up behind me, having no idea what had just happened, and asked me if I got a picture of the president walking by. I laughed and showed them my camera. Their reaction was about the same as mine.

The President made his way to the stage followed by a generous group of Honduran leaders. They assembled around a table set up on the stage and were welcomed by a speech from both the Catholic priest and Pastor Wilson, the pastor from the Vida Abundante church in La Union. Afterward, Miss Ponce led the selected singers from our school to the front of the crowd, stood in front of the stage, and sang the national anthem of Honduras for the President and the entire La Union community. It was beautiful. I felt a deep sense of pride, these students, these teachers, these people, are a part of my life, and I am a part of theirs. The most important man in this country was standing 25 feet from me and shaking hands with the people in this town who have become my friends. The tug on my shirt broke my trans. It didn't matter that the President of Honduras was here in their town, my kids were hungry. I gathered up as many of my students as I could find in the crowd and began the walk back to school. All I heard the entire way was, "Miss Klos, we're SO hungry, I don't think I can make it!" "Miss Klos, I'm starving!" "Miss Klos…" And suddenly, after dragging feet and whining, they were running down a road that was not the road back to school. The helicopters. On the soccer field stood the Presidential helicopter, and another helicopter. Both were guarded by men with machine guns, but they were no match for our kids. They surrounded the helicopters, ooo-ing and ahh-ing, some students were even allowed to climb aboard. This was way cooler than the President, and way more important than lunch, at least for now. The excitement wore off after about 10 minutes then it was back to nagging and complaining.

After scarfing down my lunch I stood at the railing staring out over La Union. What a day. Who knew? I just met the President of Honduras. He was still there, speaking to the thousands who came to see him. The bell rang at 2:00 for the last class of the day, seventh grade science for me. I grabbed my books and walked into the classroom. "Good afternoon Miss Klos!"

The links below are the reports I found about the President's visit to La Union. They are from the Honduran press, and in Spanish, but are easily translated with Google.

http://www.hondudiario.com/l/content/presidente-lobo-realiz%C3%B3-vig%C3%A9sima-entrega-del-bono-10-mil-en-lempira

http://www.laprensa.hn/Pa%C3%ADs/Ediciones/2010/10/11/Noticias/Pepe-Lobo-llega-a-Lempira-con-el-Bono-Diez-Mil

http://www.presidencia.gob.hn/presidente/presidente-lobo-sosa-realiza-vigesima-novena-entrega-del-bono-10-mil-en-lempira

ruins pt. 3

part 3: the return

After writing part 2 of this blog, the reason for the post in the first place, I cannot say that the last part of our vacation is really blog worthy.

In short, we made it as far a Santa Rosa on Saturday night. Due to the bus schedule we were obligated to leave Copan a day early and spend the night in either Gracias or Santa Rosa. DeWit was already in Santa Rosa for the weekend and insisted we stay there. Jake also met up with us in Santa Rosa later that night on his way back from La Ceiba and brought with him 3 girls he met on HIS vacation. We all went out to pizza for dinner at a great restaurant then slept at the most filthy hotel I have personally ever stayed in. Overall, Santa Rosa was a disappointment, thus why it is not worth blogging much about. It did, however, have an Espresso Americano. Eager to get out of the city Sunday early morning, we grabbed coffee for breakfast and walked down the mountain and boarded the first bus to Gracias. Holly, Bryony and I found refuge at Guancascos, which has become a "home away from home" for us, until the bus for La Union left at 12:30. For some reason the bus was PACKED! Not just full, I'm talkin' 3 adults per seat, children on laps, every bit overhead storage space occupied and the isle full of passengers, full, the WHOLE WAY HOME. Quite possibly the most unpleasant bus ride of my life. And that ended my Honduras Independence Day vacation to the ruins.

I wish to leave everyone with one last word. GO, go to Copan and go to the ruins. Absolutely one of the best vacations I have ever had. The ruins themselves are astonishing and the city is quite charming. So go.

ruins pt. 2

part 2: the ruins

I suppose I should have provided a better introduction as to the purpose of this blog.

The 15th of September is Independence Day here in Honduras. As is in the United States, this national holiday is observed by all schools and public institutions. For our school, Independence Day usually provides an extended weekend for teachers and students alike. This year the 15th fell on a Wednesday. There was question as to how our time off of school would fall. After contacting his superiors in Tegucigalpa, Mr. Perdomo, the principal of our school, confirmed that Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday would all be taken off of school, thus providing us with 5 days in which to travel.

It was discussed amongst the 4 of us girls in our first weeks here in La Union that we all desired to travel as much as possible. On the long bucket list of travel destinations within Honduras was Copan Ruinas. Honduras sits on the edge of the area of ancient Mayan settlements. The ancient ruins of Copan are the most famous of the ruins in this country. We agreed early on that if we were indeed awarded an extended weekend for Independence Day that the city of Copan would be our travel destination.

Which brings us back to Posada de Bellsy.

At the hotel we split up into two rooms, each with its own private bathroom, a television, which we never used, a double bed and a single bed. Too anxious to be clean to check out the rest of our accommodations, I jumped at the opportunity to take a CLEAN shower, something that is indeed hard to come by at my current residence. Dressed, ready to go, and feeling ever so clean, we set out for town in search of a coffee shop I had spotted earlier upon our arrival. Espresso Americano, a chain, apparently, here in Honduras, is the closest thing to Starbucks I have experienced since leaving the States. My beverage of choice: a Caramel Granita, which I would compare to a Caramel Frappacino. A delicious and COLD caffeinated treat, perfect for a hot Honduras day. Not one of us could pass up the pleasure of this outing and were all in a very happy state afterwards. Anticipating our time at the ruins now only a day away, we continued through town in search of a grocery store in which to purchase the necessary ingredients for a sack lunch. While browsing the isles I happen to come across a package of cookies entitled "Amelia". Delighted in my discovery, I was sure to snap a photograph before leaving the store. While looking for one of the girls to be my photographer, I overheard a dialogue between a cashier and another gringo who was stumbling over his Spanish words. I chuckled to myself and, after Bryony took a picture of me with MY cookies,



the 4 of us left the store with all the ingredients for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Our mission complete we decided to browse the town's artisan markets and tourist shops. More gringos again, which was weird for us, but typical for this town. One of them was indeed the same guy I had seen in the grocery store not 20 minutes prior. Unable to deny the awareness of one another, our two groups of gringos emerged to inquire as to our origins as well as our happenings here in Honduras. And what do you know, they are both teachers at a bi-lingual school in the very city we stood in. We spotted them for a third time at Via Via where we girls had decided to dine and celebrate Bryony's 19th birthday which had passed only the day before. The evening provided a heavenly meal for each, accompanied by delicious drink specials, great photo opps and a very happy birthday to our English friend. A wonderful beginning to a wonderful vacation.

The next morning was planned for an early rise and hike to the ruins, but not before breakfast. Inspired by the number of restaurants in town and driven by our desires for even more variety, we agreed to spend each meal at a different eatery. Welchez, situated kiddy corner from the central park, served only us for breakfast that morning. After enjoying every bite of my French Toast, the others their dish of choice, and a shared plate of fresh fruit, we set out on our walk with only the general direction of the ruins in mind.

The walk to the ruins was beautiful. Along the way we were encouraged when we passed by a display of Mayan statues. At least we knew we were headed in the right direction. Not far up the road on the opposite side was the entrance to the park. Immediately upon entry, we were approached by tour guides who eagerly explained to us the services they offered. A guide is something we had already decided we were going to do before we got to the park, and were fortunate enough to have chosen Mauricio. A good humored, middle-aged man and might I add well traveled. After passing the tropical birds upon entering the park, he began telling us stories of his travels pausing only to fulfill his tour guide duties by pointing out and explaining the significance of this tree or that animal. Our first REAL stop however, was the Plaza Occidental. Mauricio's words were no longer audible, for my mind was elsewhere. I was in absolute awe at the site before me. To be standing here, in Copan, Honduras, in what remains of an ancient Mayan civilization, it was incredible, to say the least. To know such a place exists or to see pictures, in no way gives justice to what is. The structure, the sculpture, the landscape, the history, completely took my breath away. It took me a while to remember that I indeed had feet capable of walking and caught up to the girls who were listening intently to what Mauricio had to say. Still in wonderland, I took out my camera and started photographing everything in sight, only to be greeted with the wonderful red blinking battery icon on my camera screen. Of course. Worry not, I was able to take plenty of pictures, though not as many as I'd hoped. Anyway, while leaning over a sculpture to pose for a picture, Mauricio assured me it was ok to touch it, or sit on it, or whatever. Excuse me? In the United States, or even Europe, no such thing would be allowed. Rather, I would be stuck on a narrow walk path behind a sticky guardrail no less than 10 yards away from anything interesting. The beauty of Copan is that you can pretty much do whatever or go wherever you please with very little restriction. The further into the park we walked, the more I embraced this freedom. We spent the rest of the morning with Mauricio, who acted partly as our tour guide and partly as our photographer, exploring the ruins. He spent far longer than the allotted 1 1/2 hour time with us, and we were sure to tip him extra at the end of the tour. Still, the entire morning was not at all enough time to take it all in. We sat for our picnic lunch, peanut butter and jelly, before re-entering the park to do our own exploring. Andrea and Holly set off to do the nature trail that surrounded the park, while Bryony and I opted to retrace the steps of our morning tour. It was here that we met yet another gringo. He was trying to take a picture of the tropical birds we had passed earlier and was having little luck obtaining the action shot he desired, a bird in flight. I tried my best to help him achieve his goal and consequently made an absolute fool of myself. Laughing at my hopeless attempt, the 3 of us set off down the path engaged in the typical "Where are you from?" conversation we foreigners often find ourselves in. He was from Switzerland, in the midst of traveling all of Central and South America by himself and was set to finish in December, ambitious. Wishing him the best, we parted ways when we reached the end of the path. The nature trail hike was cut short for Holly and Andrea due to an overabundance of large spiders along the way. They found Bryony and me in the Plaza de los Jaguares. Observing the threatening weather overhead and anticipating our walk back to town, we terminated our stay at the ruins.



Was that a dream? I was still in absolute awe the entire walk back to the hotel. After freshening up we headed out for Caramel Granitas and to browse the markets. Not feeling well, I returned to the hotel to rest while the girls headed to Twisted Tania's for drinks in the evening. I met up with them for dinner a few hours later at Vamos A Ver, a quiet little eatery where, of course of all places, our Swiss friend showed up to dine. It would have been awkward, seeing how we were the only other people at the restaurant, not to have invited him to join us. Though, he may have regretted his decision to accept our invitation when Holly and Bryony struck up a 7 1/2 minute conversation with each other about anything and EVERYTHING two intoxicated British girls could think of. This included, but was not limited to, Cornas and Texwell, St. Patrick and the invention of the color green, rain, and Holly on a bridge. After that comedic highlight, I called it a night early, still not feeling 100%.

It was good to wake up feeling completely refreshed the next day. Friday was my shopping day. I had been extremely disciplined since arriving on Wednesday NOT to spend any money other than what was necessary for meals and the ruins. After breakfast though I intentionally set out to do some damage to my newly funded foreign bank account. My mission was to find goods made here in Copan. Copan Ruinas is very close to the Guatemalan border, so there are LOADS of Guatemalan goods in all the shops, their specialty being textiles. It took a lot of conversations in Spanish, which I am improving on, though still not fluent, to get a sense for what was actually made here Copan. Satisfied with the information I had gathered, I started spending. Jade is believed to have been mined in Copan by the ancient Mayans. It is still mined there, though larger mines exist just across the border as well. Anything Mayan, or displaying Mayan symbols, is obviously made in Copan, my favorite being the Mayan calendars. There are also these dolls made out of corn husks that little girls from the surrounding villages sell in the street. These dolls are only made in the villages around Copan. You will have no problem finding them, the girls are very eager to sell to you, especially if you are a gringo. I made frequent stops back to the hotel to unload my bag and record my spendings. Yikes! By the end of the day I had spent an alarming amount but decided not to worry about it, this was a once in a lifetime vacation. I opened up my daily planner and set a date the following week to write myself a budget for the year.

I spent my last morning enjoying a hot caramel latte at Espresso Americano overlooking the small city as it slowly came to life. Perhaps I gave myself too much time to sit, before I knew it I was off spending more. Hotel check out at 11 am saved me from myself. None of us wanted to leave, we had one last meal down the hill at a restaurant near the bus station. I finished eating early with the intention to run up the hill for one last Caramel Granita. Savoring every last drop of my frozen beverage, I reluctantly boarded the bus to La Entrada with the girls. Goodbye Copan…