My final days in La Ceiba were spent buying souvenirs, saying goodbyes, and relishing precious quality time with the McCanns. Wednesday night was a huge soccer game between Honduras and Costa Rica. The entire McCann clan and I got decked out in our blue and white Honduras jerseys (even Ellie, a Costa Rican citizen) to watch the game and enjoy a homemade pizza dinner. Our spirit clearly enabled the Honduran 4-0 victory.
Afterwards, Lindsey and I decided to satisfy our curiosity about a certain La Ceiba post-game tradition. After any semi-significant soccer victory for Honduras, residents drive to the main drag downtown to experience "the caravan." From motocycles, truck beds, bar balconies, and sidewalks, fans cheer, wave blue and white Honduran flags, honk, and throw water at one another. The caravan was so loud that we couldn't even hear our own car horn! Lindsey and I (two white chicks in a 13-passenger van) probably stood out a little, but we didn't care. We were too busy chanting, "Hon-du-RAS! Hon-du-RAS!" to notice. We returned home pumped with adrenaline and very proud to be living in Honduras (even if only for another 24 hours).
The next morning we piled my bags (exactly the max weight limit) into the car and headed into Armenia one last time (for a while, anyway). Lindsey and I had made a big batch of snickerdoodle cookies the night before and were excited to pass them out to a few of my favorite friends. It's really amazing how many children will come running once they see the big blue van pull in, and so we didn't have to look far to visit with Vilma, Jorge, Walter, Marcos and Hacey's family, Estela and Gabby's family, and Yami. I didn't anticipate I'd have such a hard time saying goodbye. After all, these people had been complete strangers to me just a month before. When Yami told me she loved me very much and I'd always be close to her heart it nearly brought me to tears. I was also incredibly touched by Vilma, who held me close and couldn't stop crying. She told me that the gringos were her only friends and so when we leave, she has none (wow).
Our final visit was with Estela and Gabby's family. I know it's cruel to have favorites, but with Estela, it was kind of impossible not to. Just like always, we pulled up in the van and she ran to me and jumped into my arms --now THAT'S a celebrity greeting! No sooner had I handed her the bag of cookies was she ripping it open and stuffing one in her mouth. She was eager to show off her dog's newborn puppies, picking them up by the front legs and spinning them around. Before I knew it, she bolted into the house, yelling, "tenemos un gato tambien!" (we have a cat too!) As soon as she stepped out on the porch again, the poor feline went flying out of her arms and onto the ground for us to admire. As we turned to leave, I gave that sweet seven-year-old one last hug and told her for the thousandth time how pretty her long hair was. At this, she raced off to the washing basin and completely immersed herself in water to show me how long her hair REALLY was. She's sassy and I like it. The only peace I felt in saying goodbye to Yami and the kids was convincing myself that I'll be back again someday.
My street...not a bad view, huh?
Where the chaos ensued each day.
What a blessing my time in La Ceiba has been, and how much I’ve learned! This past month, living under the mango tree in the McCann’s backyard, I’ve learned to say, “Taking care of children is not always pretty, but it’s real.” Parenting demands unnatural amounts of patience, cheerios, and fresh clothes, but the payoff is a lifetime of free entertainment! I’m going to miss the simplicity of life in Honduras, where frizzy hair, grubby clothes, and no make-up reign and where most problems can be solved with a pacifier and cheerios. I’ve loved every minute of my time in La Ceiba and, Lord willing, I’ll be back again. In preparing for my trip several months ago, I had a plenty of misgivings about living in a foreign country, not being able to raise enough support, and the political unrest in Honduras, but God continued to provide and made it extremely clear that I needed to go. I experienced first hand that authentic joy comes only from the Lord, and I’ve never felt so blessed.
Readjusting to home life has had it's ups and downs. I now freeze in my own home and often have trouble falling asleep because it's too quiet here...no dropping mangos, neighbors with chronic sneezing problems, crazy birds, or loud AC box next to my head at night; I can actually sit on my skirt in church now...I used to lift it up and drape it over the back of my chair in Armenia services so I wouldn't sweat through! (gross, I know, but it's true life); and it seems my sand fly bites have resurfaced and are itchier than ever!! The delicious steak dinner (God bless you, mom) and seeing family and friends once again made being home well worth it! So goes the transition from Honduras, to the States, to JMU tomorrow! Until the next adventure...
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