Thursday, December 25, 2014

A Latin American Christmas

I am unapologetically a Grinch. No...correction, I am THE Grinch. Most people find this character flaw in me surprising, even reprehensible. It's a long story for another post...maybe. Oddly, I have found that God in His infinite wisdom seems to balance out all our faults by giving others an excess of whatever we lack. For this very reason, I am certain, He brought Eric Bowman into my life.

Eric exudes Christmas joy and good cheer. If I didn't like Eric so much, I might even find this excess annoying. (Grinches are just that way, we can't help it.). Eric loves to decorate and string Christmas lights....by the thousands. I HATE hanging lights, even just one strand. However, even this excessive exuberance of Christmas spirit has it's side benefits. Eric spent three days patently and joyfully, as difficult as I found this to believe, stringing Christmas lights around the Spanish Institute of Honduras. He risked his neck on shaky non OSHA approved ladders, (rumor has it he actually fell) battled wasps, receiving several wounds in the process, patiently looked for blown bulbs and daily ran functionality checks on the system with his ever present, handy dandy, all-in-one Christmas light repair tool. The results where outstanding! Not only did we have a beautifully lit Institute and home for Christmas but when Sindy was married here two weeks ago, the place looked wonderful.

The Spanish Institute of Honduras and our home, tastefully decorated by Eric
Eric's home in Kentucky...see what I mean by excessive spirit? (photo used WITHOUT permission)
I was just now, after publishing, informed that this is not actually the Bowman's Old Kentucky Home, but rather National Lampoon's. I, however, submit to my audience that Eric wishes it were his and therefore it shall remain. (lawsuits are uncommon here in Honduras)
Our teacher/daughter Sindy and Rhoamedhy's wedding.

Here in Latin America, Christmas Eve is celebrated in a wild and joyous way. Firecrackers! For three weeks leading up to Christmas, Siguatepeque has been under siege. It's as though we are living in a city embroiled in guerrilla warfare. The rattle of small arms fire (aka firecrackers and cebollas) are a constant in the street and throughout the night. On Christmas Eve the intensity increases...the city is now under attack from a much larger force. The battle is all around us. The air begins to fill with the smoke from the explosions and from the fires lit in the streets. Mortar rounds add to the overall noise as do the screech of incoming missiles (bottle rockets). As the the clock reaches midnight a full force, D-Day invasion is underway. Ten minutes of roaring, ear shattering noise envelopes the city, slowly dying away to sporadic burst from Barrios near and far. In the morning the streets are littered with paper from a million firecrackers. Still there is no peace. As I write, I hear a continual smattering of explosions. This will continue all week culminating on New Year's Eve in one final night of wild celebration.

Out side of our house as I write.


On a personal note, the Wolfe house has been pretty quite (apart from the above exceptions). Highly unusual and honestly, much needed. Typically our house is full...constantly... with teachers, students, house guest and passerbys. And we love it, and tomorrow life will return to normal busyness once again. We have an all day teachers workshop on Friday. Our friends from Maine, the Keim family, will be arriving, friends from Teguc and La Paz may be dropping in and we have at least two new families arriving at the Institute who we are looking forward to welcoming. Oh yes, and the New Years Eve party we will be hosting. Complete with our very own fireworks show.

But for today it is only the four of us and Carlos. Luis went to Valle de Angeles with Tita, one of the ladies who raised him, and Nolvia is spending the week with her family. The presents under the Christmas tree were pretty sparse. My new Kindle Fire HDX 7 came down with the Cadmuses on Saturday and of course there was no way I was wrapping it and placing it under the tree and waiting. (Grinches are also impatient and despise wrapping presents.) The Keims will be bringing some of the boy's gifts on Sunday as well as special things like Jif peanut butter and Nutella.

Of course we miss Mark tremendously, but he is being well cared for in Seattle by Barbe's family. We Skyped with Mom this morning and will do the same later with Grammy. I also took time to call and wish a special friend in Maine Merry Christmas. He is 95 and still going strong, plowing snow and staying busy. (Grinches do have their good side).


So to all of you, my friends, Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Why I'm Mad...and Sad

Okay folks. No photos, no feel good stories, just some straight talk.

Right now I'm a little ticked off. Maybe more than just a little. But I'm also sad at the same time.

Why?

Amnesty...that's why!

I'm going to ask a question. Do you think granting amnesty to an estimated 12 to 20 million illegals living in the States will hinder or help the problem of illegal immigration in the future?

Let me share the stories of two men I know personally.

Roberto (not his real name) is a hard working, well respected man in his barrio. He's actually the president of the patronato, kind of like the mayor of the neighborhood. He has a beautiful wife, a beautiful family. He's a good dad. He has a nice home and owns his own business. He and his wife went to the US, illegally, a number of years ago, worked hard - two jobs, stayed out of trouble and saved all they could. They came back home with enough cash to start a good life...BUT, it's hard to go from making $8.00 per hour to making $8.00 per day and although he doesn't say it, I think the savings are long gone. He longs to go back to the US. So does his wife. They talk about it all the time. 

I saw Roberto the other day. The first thing he told me is that a friend from the US called him and told him to hurry back, illegally of course, so that he could apply for amnesty. He wanted to know if I thought it was true. I didn't say a thing. I have no idea. Zilch. I do know this. The trip north is far more dangerous today than it was 20 years ago. And I know this too. I can't bear to see one more fatherless family here.

It made me sad. 

Note: I add this comment one year later. At the cost of nearly $30,000 USD, Roberto has now sent his family north to join him. He hopes that someday they will all become US citizens
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I go often into a certain store here in Sigua. Six days a week I would see Juan, (not his real name) smiling, waving at me. We'd fist bump over the counter and ask how each other's day was going. I like Juan. He's a good looking young man who had worked his way up to a decent position. Probably not making a whole lot, but hey, it's a decent, steady job in a country where those are hard to come by. Two days in a row I go into the store and, no Juan. "Hey, where's Juan?" I ask. "Oh, he doesn't work here anymore" they say. "Why?" I really want to know. "He headed north. Someone arranged for a "coyote" to take him. Friends in the States told him to come. He left without even collecting his last paycheck." Another one of Honduras' future fathers and community leaders...gone.

It made me mad.

I asked myself, why would a young man leave without even collecting his paycheck? Why the urgency? Why the willingness to brave the dangers of a drug cartel infested trip through Mexico? Could it possibly be the hope of arriving in time to receive amnesty?

I googled "how much does an illegal pay a coyote" and came up with this answer. 
$4,000 to $10,000 USD! 
Say what?

Even at the low end that's a years wages and at the high end...3 to 4 years wage. With no guarantee that you will make it to the USA alive...or not be caught and deported back home. 

I'm mad because:
  • No one here seems to think it's wrong to go illegally to someone else's country.
  • Too many young men and women think that life will be so much better living illegally in the US, where they will be given menial jobs at half of what a US citizens would make...if they'd even do it.
  • Our policies encourage such actions.
  • Our newspapers lie, trying to make it sound as though young people here are fleeing a war zone. Lies! And we buy into it.
I'm sad because:
  • I see the debilitating effects of homes without husbands and fathers.
  • I see teenage delinquents who receive just enough money from the States buy booze and become alcoholics at an early age, often fathering multiple children by multiple women because there is a shortage of available men...and caring for none of them. (Ok, that one makes me mad too)
  • Honduras is losing their motivated leaders and workforce.
I'm going to be blunt for a moment and I'm going to say something to my fellow Christians, some who will probably disagree with me..and that's okay.

Stop bringing in free stuff and start bringing jobs!

Missions is a multi-billion dollar business. Yes, that's right, Billion with a "B". Most of it directed towards bringing in free stuff, building free buildings or doing free work. AND I'm okay with some of that. There is a place for charity. We practice it often. But here's the deal IF ONLY we'd stop, look and listen. Almost every man and woman I know...they just want a job. They want the dignity of being able to provide for their own families, with their own hands. They don't want the free stuff...until they find out that's all their gonna' get.

So, Church...you want to help?

Send some of your businessmen down here. Send your entrepreneurs. Use some of those billions to start businesses, give micro loans or build schools to teach trades. Maybe this should tell us something. People are leaving here in droves, willing to risk their lives to find work. .

On second thought, I'm not sure I blame them.

I'd probably do the same if I were in their shoes.

So...Do you really want to help?