Thanksgiving in Honduras

It's 2:30 am and I'm awake. This is becoming my usual writing time. It's quiet, except for Alfredo our burro who, as soon as he sees the light come on, gets up from under our bedroom window and comes around to the back door to see what I'm doing, no doubt hoping for a snack...which I usually give him. After a few minutes he goes back to bed.

I'm spending more time blogging lately than working on my book. Blogging is more fun. I've been putting off a lot of things lately. Paperwork is one of those things, although for the first time in 30 years I actually have a bookkeeper other than myself. And it's required by law here. How cool is that?

This past Thursday was Thanksgiving. Here's the thing which really struck me as odd. All the Gringos I know here in Honduras were celebrating and all around us Honduras went on as usual. That felt really strange. I mean, back home Thanksgiving is the most observed holiday next to Christmas. No one works on Thanksgiving...well almost no one. This holiday is uniquely American.

We went to the Hagler's for dinner. Yuly came with us as well as two friends, one from Tegucigalpa and one from Zambrano and one of our "daughters" from the language school. Several other families were there also. The food was delicious, the company excellent, the view outstanding. We brought our TV and NFL Gamepass the boys coerced me into buying so they could watch NFL down here (actually they paid for most of the subscription) and we watched Dallas beat Oakland. None of us particularly cared who won, but it was fun to hang out together.



The food line.



Watching the game


Later, those of us who were either too full, too decrepit or too wise, watched those who were young or foolish, there was no one who wasn't full, play "real" football, American style, from the front porch.



Playing the game

Oddly, the weather which had been beautiful, turned chilly and overcast. If it hadn't been 65 degrees out I would have sworn snow was on the way. Honestly... it felt cold. We were all bundled up in sweaters and scarves. It was actually kind of neat because it felt very fallish and New England Thanksgivingish. (Two words you probably won't find in the dictionary)

Living down here has made me realize how much we have to be thankful for. One of the things I am continually grateful for are the friendships we have made these past eight months. They continue to deepen and to be a blessing and encouragement to us. Although we missed family deeply, it was good to spend Thanksgiving with good friends.



 

Missing Mom and Dad Today

Today is Thanksgiving Day in the USA. It is a uniquely American holiday. I have some really great memories of Thanksgiving. Mom is an awesome cook and we always had a lot of family and friends in the house. It was a big event. We are missing our family today, especially our parents/grandparents.

As I was going back through some of my old post, I came across this one, one of the first I did in this blog. It too is one of my of my personal favorites. As I reread it, it made me miss my parents even more and it made me miss being a kid. I'm reposting it today in honor of the way my parents have influenced my life.

Happy Thanksgiving Mom and Dad! We love you and miss you. Still hoping your traveling days aren't over yet and we'll see you here in Honduras this winter.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Genetics         (from July 7th, 2012)

“You’re just like your father.” My wife tells me this quite often. Sometimes it's a statement, more often an accusation. Those used to be fightin’ words. Even the suggestion of such a possibility was vehemently denied. We tend to use this phrase to describe people. Sometimes it's in a positive way, but more often than not it isn't. As I have matured and undoubtedly become more like my father, I no longer feel the sting, the barb in those words like I used to. My father and I still do not see eye to eye on many things, but our relationship is good. Over the years we have argued heatedly, gone without speaking for two years (my choice) and have eventually agreed to disagree.  Through it all we have always loved each other and as the years have passed each of us has mellowed, fortunately.

In 1939 Winston Churchill said, “I cannot forecast to you the actions of Russia. It is a riddle, inside a mystery, wrapped in an enigma…” For years these words have described perfectly the way I have viewed my father and many of the choices he has made.  However, over the past several years I have gained a new appreciation for many of my father’s character traits. In some of these I have gone so far as to desire to emulate them in my own life. For example; my father has never been materialistic. As with all of life there is the positive and the negative, the pros and cons to everything. Where I am in life now, to be willing and able to easily let go of the things I surround myself with, would be a positive trait. Oddly, I am finding that more often than not, my treasure becomes my master…the thing that traps me rather than sets me free. My father has never struggled with holding any possession too tightly. Positive? I think so.

My father has never allowed other’s opinions or perceptions of him or his choices to influence the choices he has made. He has lived life on his own terms.  Positive? Yes and no, but on a purely intellectual level…positive. Dad has certainly not lead a "normal" life. The career, the two story house, two car garage thing bores him to death. Worrying about retirement or the future...never. Life with my father has always been an adventure. I have never seen him show fear, which on the negative side has lead us into some rather stressful situations. On the positive side, as my globe trotting friend Bob Beckett would say, "When the pain of the event is over, it's all about the stories." And do we have stories.

My father has always been an adventurer and a traveler. At the age of 15 he ran away from home and joined the Army, insisting that he was 18. Despite the fact that clearly he was not, the Army accepted him. After all they had a war to fight and men were men even if they were only boys. Jump school, paratrooper, Korea, wounded in action, marriage, the GI bill, Professor of Physics, children, much moving and traveling, more children, Pastor, entrepreneur, all are words that describe my father’s life.  Even when we did live in one spot, we were always on the move. Dad, at the age of 81, recently returned from a 2 week stay in Kenya. His third in the past several years. 500 miles from nowhere, living in a grass hut with his friend Rabson, his family and several of the orphans my father helps support, eating the same bland food they eat, sleeping on the same dirt floor they sleep on, crapping in the same hole they…well you get the picture. Yes, in so many ways, being “just like my father” is not such a bad thing.

My mother and father, Aug. 1952

And what of my mother? Born in a log cabin in the hills of Kentucky, a coal miner’s daughter, she was raised with a strong work ethic. Life was hard in Kentucky. Her grandmother slept with a .45 pistol under her pillow and “wasn’t a'feered of man nor beast”.  Her mother told stories of her own uncles, moonshiners and hunters, tough, hard men who often lived outside the law. Despite this same heritage, my grandfather, although far from perfect was good to his children. My mother still misses him.

When it came to travel, I never remember my mother ever complaining. She could get all six of us children packed and ready for a trip, which was often a spur of the moment event, faster than anyone I have ever known. And somehow, miraculously, there would always be fried egg sandwiches in the cooler when it was time for breakfast. (For some strange reason our trips always seemed to start at 1 in the morning.)  Mom was exceptional at making a home wherever we were. For her, home was where her husband and children where. Tonight, as we talked about our plans to move to Honduras, I saw the gleam of adventure in her eyes, heard her hinting that perhaps she would come with us. So am I also like my mother? Yes, in many ways and this too is not a bad thing.

My maternal grandparents, circa 1938

Genetics…say what you want. As far as I’m concerned, at least in some measure, we are part of all those who have gone before us. It is said, "It's all in the genes." Okay, maybe not all, but...   

If you believe, as I do, that God made each of us unique, each provided in a special way with God-ordained talents, personalities and yes, even genetics, for specific work in His kingdom…then should I really wonder why it is I long to go to faraway places? When I choose to live life different, should it come as a surprise when people find me...different? Should I care? My father wouldn't.  

10,000 and counting.



When I started blogging I never imagined I would enjoy it so much. Nor did I ever dream that I would have people all over the world reading my blog. Below is a screen shot of my blogger stats page. On the audience stats portion are listed the top 10 countries from which originate the most page views. There are at least another 15 countries not shown.  

 

Over 10,000 page views. WOW! I have absolutely no way of knowing who visits my blog, unless they leave a comment, but I am truly grateful to all of you who read my blog and have joined in our life here in Honduras. Thanks to all of you who put up with my sometimes crazy observations, my naked honesty, my humor, my questioning of the status quo. I hope that as you have read my post that you have enjoyed some of the experiences of travel, found humor in my stories and perhaps stopped to consider if there is any validity to some of my observations on life as we attempt to "do life different".

 

 

From time to time to time, I go back and reread some of my old post. I have several personal favorites, but according to the stats, Robbed was the number one most visited post followed closely by We Arrive...Finally: Days 12 and 13 and Live like a King on $1200 a Month.



I have four personal favorites, posts that mean the most to me. Probably because these post where written from my heart, my emotions. I'm not sure I can put them in first to fourth place order, so they are listed randomly as follows.

Go and See Ministries; how we got our name. In this post I write about how passionate I am to have people "go and see", to really experience a missions trip which is life changing, not just a vacation or a sightseeing trip.

So...it's been a really hard week, I mean month. In this post I was brutally honest about some of the issues we were facing as we adjusted to life here and how it was affecting our marriage relationship.

So, are you like missionaries or something?  Because I hate labels and because we are not here officially as "missionaries" I really struggled, and still do, with what to call ourselves and how to explain why we are here. I think I come to a pretty fair conclusion in the end.

Fear: What's to worry about? In this post I work through some of the fears I have of traveling through Mexico and the unknown. I question whether or not our fears, which we often let control our lives, are really valid. Or is it just a lack of proper perspective?

Blogging is really a type of journaling, at least it has become that for me. I enjoy rereading some of the blogs from our trip through Mexico and Guatemala. It helps me relive this epic journey and brings all the emotions and experiences back, almost as though it were yesterday. These two days, for some reason, stand out in my memories. Acayucan: day 6 or Panajachel and Lago Atitlan: day 9 and 10.

Usually I plan a post, but sometimes a post just forms in my mind, maybe from something I saw or experienced, if only briefly. Like this one. A Selfless Act of Kindness.

Some of my post I try for humor as in The Body on the Living room Floor.

Sometimes I want to challenge myself and my readers to honesty as in the Sacred Supporter.

But usually I just write because I enjoy writing.

I assume that I will continue blogging. Sometimes life gets so busy I don't have time, and it does take time. I usually spend one to two hours on each post, often around two in the morning. I must really love it!

Thanks again for reading!

PS.. Hey, don't forget that you are always welcome to add your thoughts by using the comment button at the bottom of each post. I love hearing from you!



 

Alfredo Meets Himself

If you read my post Alfredo the Donkey or are a member of his facebook group, Alfredo the Donkey Fan Club, then you know how this new addition to our family has won our hearts and not only ours, but scores of people around the world.

Well, the cutest thing happened today. Alfredo met himself. On the seminary campus where he spends a lot of the day there is a radio station. I had brought him up with us to the main campus so he could hang with us while we played Ultimate Frisbee with a bunch of friends as part of the going away party we had for two of our girls, Paige and Caitlyn. As he was wandering around the grounds he happened to walk in front of the two plate glass doors of the radio station.

Alfredo literally did a double take when he saw the "other" donkey in the window. He got so excited. He went up to the other donkey and began nosing it, smearing donkey nose prints all over the window in the process. Every time he went to move away, the other donkey would move too. He was mesmerized.  It was adorable, but also a little sad. I think he really needs to be with one of his own.

Curiosity and excitement

 

Alfredo and his new friend

 

Alfredo with Carol Russell and myself in the background



Ultimate Frisbee

Watching him move back and forth with his reflection reminded me of a story my brother once told me. A story that had both of us rolling on the ground with laughter. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I share it with you.

There used to be an all-you-can eat buffet in Bangor, Maine called Miller's Restaurant. It had been there for years and I guess it has recently been torn down to make way for a new McDonald's. Anyway, it was one of those dimly lit, old, hard to see in places with a buffet bar that stretched a good long ways into the back. When you looked down the bar it looked like it was at least a 100' long, piled high with all kinds of food. Made you wonder if you could even do it justice.Well, my brother starts working down the bar, a plate in each hand, taking a little of this, a lot of that and he sees this fellow wearing a shirt and a hat very similar to the ones he's wearing working his way towards him from the other end of the bar. When the two of them finally meet, Jon steps aside and politely nods at the other man indicating that he should move in front. The other man was just as polite, nodded and also stepped aside to let Jon pass. Jon nods and thanks him and steps back to the bar to move on down the line. The other man steps back too, right in front of Jon. He and Jon do one of those little dance steps back and forth all the time smiling and nodding politely at one another...until Jon finally realizes that he is looking at his own reflection in a mirror designed to make the buffet look enormous. Now that's funny!
 

Copan Ruinas

Copan Ruins is the most famous archaeological dig in Honduras and one of the most famous in all of Mayan history. It is huge, covering a lot of territory. I have visited a number of Mayan ruins including Chichen Itza in Yucatan, Mexico and I have to say, this was pretty incredible. If you are in Honduras and have the time, it is well worth the visit.

Leaving Sigautepeque in "la fiesta bus", we went to the airport in San Pedro Sula to pick up Trey's parents and his fiancée who were flying in to spend Thanksgiving here. From there we headed towards Santa Rosa de Copan, retracing the road we had entered Honduras on in February. The pothole situation had not improved. Turning towards the Guatemalan border and Copan Ruinas at La Entrada, we drove through beautiful, mountainous countryside. The road was curvy with quite a few potholes and because darkness was fast approaching, we scooted along as fast as I felt comfortable going, which was pretty fast. Because of the isolation and blind curves, this is not a road I would recommend driving on after dark as it leads to a known tourist destination as well as a border crossing and would be a very easy place for car jackings to occur. Time from La Entrada to Copan Ruinas is an hour, 15 minutes.

Shortly after we left La Entrada, I pulled to the side of the road to allow a Toyota Land Cruiser ambulance, lights flashing, to pass. We do not see many ambulances in Honduras, especially in rural areas. Several miles later, we came around a curve and found a 6 wheeled truck completely upside down in the ditch with a crowd of men standing around as it has obviously just happened. To our amazement the ambulance drove right by, never slowing down despite the yells from the men.




All of us were ready to get out of the van by the time we arrived in Copan Ruinas. The constant pounding over potholes or lurching from side to side as the driver tries to avoid them meshed with the left, right swaying of the van around the endless curves gets very tiresome. If you are prone to motion sickness...you are in trouble.


The town of Copan Ruinas is ancient, quaint and reminiscent of Antigua, Guatemala with it's narrow cobbled streets, central park and low key touristy air. We stayed at Hotel La Posada de Belssy two blocks off the Central park. Rooms were very reasonably priced at about $16 USD per night, and although the rooms were small, they were very adequate. On the roof there is a place for love birds to snuggle, to relax, do a little cooking if you want and even a small swimming pool. Interestingly, the entire hotel is only 15 feet wide, which intrigued me for some reason.

The town is very well lit at night and has a safe feel to it, at least in the central area. We saw quite a few foreigners, mainly other Americans, but also a large number of Europeans. We wandered around town for a bit and eventually found ourselves in a restaurant eating beef, grilled over a wood fire. It was very pleasant sitting there in the cool evening air getting to know Trey's parents and catching up with Laura.

Back to the hotel for an early night. We all woke the next morning, some more refreshed than others, ready for a day at the ruins. Trey and Laura made an early morning foray into town to find fresh semita bread for breakfast, while Barbe and I went in search of a good cup of coffee.

We had decided beforehand to take moto-taxis to the ruins instead of la fiesta bus, mainly for the experience. I had met and talked with a moto-taxi driver the night before and had found out some interesting facts about these cute little three wheeled taxis found round the world. In Copan there are only 100 moto-taxis. If you are lucky enough to own one of these numbers, you are worth at least $10,000 USD. The rate per person to ride around town is 20 Lempiras or $1 USD. Tires cost $25-30 USD and last about 3 months. They are powered by a 175 cc motor and run all day on 3 gallons of gas. I love interesting tid-bits of information like this, for some reason.

 I'll do another post on our time at the ruins in a few days. 

A Quick Update

I realized that I have not given an update on several of our ongoing projects recently. So here it is.

BAM project, business as missions, interest free micro lending.

We currently have three loans out to: a small chicken and egg farm, a lawn care, weed whacking business and a used clothing sales business. Loans were made to two different men and one woman. Repayments were a little slow in getting started as we allowed for time to develop a customer base, but now payments are beginning to come in. We are always looking for new applicants.

The Church Plant in Barrio Calan.

This little church is precious. It continues to grow, but needs so much more of our time and Pastor Lenin's who already works a full time job.

I recently made a proposal to the leadership. The proposal is to start a co-op between the women of the church community to do farming efficiently, raise chickens, eggs and produce for their own consumption and help them develop a local customer base for their surplus. The success of this proposal depends, in a large part, on the help of a young woman, a Camino Global intern, who is coming in January and has a passion for agriculture and missions.

Living Water Well Drilling. 

We have drilled three wells so far, including one in San Pedro Sula, and have a growing number of people interested in having us drill in other areas of the country. This is a very fulfilling ministry, but is hard work and takes up all of my time when we are in the middle of a drilling. I have learned that I need to have a completely clear schedule when I start one so I can concentrate completely on drilling. This is hard to do because I have so many other irons in the fire. If all goes well we will be drilling another well in a few weeks for Fundacion Melodias de Esperanzas here in Siguatepeque.

Water Purification Projects in Public Schools.

We continue to install water purification systems in public schools so that the children will have bacteria free drinking water. We are moving forward with plans to offer health and hygiene training to the schools. This is a very worthwhile project. I have one more site already chosen where we will be installing a new type of filter that requires far less maintenance and is more cost effective sometime next year.

Unidos para Sigautepeque.

We had two very successful meetings. Out of these I have developed very positive relationships with the current mayor, the water dept. and one of the states congressmen. As a result of these meetings, I believe that Siguatepeque is going to have a new youth center, something that is very much needed here.

Our Home Fellowship Group.

This time of fellowship and communion remains my most favorite time of the week. Those who come each Wednesday changes as we have people come and go from the area and the language school, but....what a blessing.

The Bi-monthly Bible Study in Cerro Azul.

My second favorite time of the month. The Bible study which we lead in a village about an hour from us continues to grow and deepen. God is good and I love the time we spend on Sunday afternoons with these friends.

Managing the Spanish Language Institute.

Probably my third favorite thing we do here. I love this school, the teachers and the students. We are growing and changing and it is an honor to lead this school forward. My goal is to make us the premier language school in Honduras.

Our Two Businesses.

Starting these two businesses has taken a lot of my time lately and many, many trips to Naco, San Pedro Sula and Tegucigalpa. We currently have a Chinese technician working for us here. He will be here until mid January. Developing a network of sales people, developing a market and getting everything legal including learning all of the Honduran bookkeeping an corporate laws has required a lot of time.

Hosting Short-term Missions Teams and Families.

We are looking forward to a busy 2014 hosting teams and families. We already have two scheduled and we are working on a joint venture between ourselves, Camino Global, DELTA Ministries and Hope Coffee. We will be the on the ground host, taking care of the team, developing and arranging for the projects and logistics while here. I love hosting teams, but they require a lot preparation in advance and all of our time while here. If anyone is interested in coming down next year, we'd love to have you, but we need to start talking and planning now as our schedule is filling up fast.

Writing a Book.

I continue working on a book I started last year based on the lessons and experiences we have learned from our journey these past five years. I usually write at night between the hours of 1 am and 3 am, but because my days are pretty full I find that I have been wanting to sleep instead. I have a tentative publisher lined up, but the finish date at this point is unknown and will probably be dependent on my sleep needs.

Practicing Hospitality.

My parents were amazing examples of what it means to practice the gift of hospitality. Barbe and I do that on a regular basis here and it is such a blessing. Although things have slowed down a bit, there are times when we have throughout the week, 40 or so people pass through our house and stay for lunch or dinner. Anyone passing through Siguatepeque, you are always welcome at the Wolfe house. We'd love to have you stop by.

Future Projects Now in the Works.

A few of the things we are currently working on starting are: a second bi-monthly Bible study, a more active role with an adoption agency, a closer relationship with one of the local communities, finding a new location for the language school, developing a missions program specifically for the school and.... 

As we get busier. I am always aware that I have a family that needs me to. One of the things I do is include them in what I am doing. Ben and Thomas drill wells with me. Mark and Thomas are learning different aspects of the businesses. Barbe keeps the social side of our lives going including meals, etc.The Bible study is a family event as is our hfg. One of the things that has been impressed on me is, rather than saying no to opportunities, is to begin looking for a qualified person or family to help us with what we are doing.

Because at this point we see providing for ourselves and our living expenses here through free enterprise as the path chosen for us, the success of these two businesses is very important to us being able to stay here beyond the two years we had budgeted for. As we become more and more involved here, it is becoming pretty clear to us that this is where we are to be. And so we move forward, always seeking God's will and his blessing.



 

The Lost Art of Listening

I'm a good listener. I really am. Ask anyone who knows me and I think they will tell you the same. In my opinion and experience, this is not the case for the majority of people. Too many of us are distracted by events around us, other conversations or our children or we are busy thinking about what we are going to say. It's easy to tell when people are listening...or not. For years I have referred to  "listening" as a lost art.

“Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” 

Stephen Covey, author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.

 

 

I'm a good listener, because in most cases I really am interested in learning what the person I am talking with has to say. To listen is polite. It increases my knowledge in many different areas and shows respect to the person speaking.

"The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them.”  - Ralph G. Nichols 

 

 

I'm a good listener. I really am. Or at least I am when I'm not on my computer. Or when someone sends me a text. Or I'm in one of the many restaurants where nowadays they are placing TVs at multiple angles for maximum distraction. Of late, I have found myself succumbing to these. I am finding myself losing the art of listening.  I am ashamed.

 

I am amazed at the pull, the attraction, the brutal hold technology has on most of us these days. I try to resist it, but I feel the magnetic pull when in face-to-face conversation to check the text, to answer the call; as though whoever this unknown person may be is more important than the person with whom I am personally involved with at the moment.

 

As though listening wasn't already a difficult enough challenge.

 

I sit across the table from another, watch their eyes, watch the irresistible urge to look at the TV instead of at me battle within them...and watch them lose. I am in a meeting, the phone rings and I am immediately placed on hold, again and again. I watch the crowds of people at a party, intermingle, flowing and mixing and I watch many stand on the sidelines engaged in a fiddling contest with their phones, or texting invisible others instead of enjoying the reality of live companionship.

 

 

Last summer my son Thomas and I were in Breckenridge, Colorado. We decided to take the ski lift to the lodge and then bought pricey tickets for the Alpine slide. The ride was exhilarating, the view breathtaking. I was torn between letting go the brake and ripping through the turns, or riding slow and enjoying the amazing beauty around me. We got to the bottom and overheard a twenty something girl telling the attendant that she needed to hike back up the slide route to find her drivers license. He was somewhat taken aback and asked how she had lost it. To which she replied, "My cell phone rang halfway down the slide, and when I pulled it out of my pocket my license fell out." An irresistible urge? Yes, I think maybe.

 

People ask me why we have a "no electronics" policy for our Go and See Short-term Missions Trips. It's because to me this should be a time set aside for those you serve, those you serve with and especially a time set aside for God. It's not a very popular policy...at first. It isn't popular until the team begins to actually enjoy each other's company, to feel the freedom of not having to answer the phone. Of experiencing time spent with God...without putting Him on hold.

 

I'm making a resolution. Today. I am resolving to once again pursue the art of listening. To ignore the ring of the phone or check the text while in conversation, or at a minimum ask permission to take the call and keep it short.

 

I want to engage those with who I am talking. To ask questions and listen to their responses. I want people to know I love them by the way I listen. I want to start here at home.

"Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.”                           ― David Augsburger