Fluency, the Use of the Conditional Tense, Diplomacy and the Latin Culture

As the owner of the Spanish Institute of Honduras for the past four years I have learned so much about languages and how we learn.  Not necessarily the art of teaching Spanish as a second language, I leave that to our abundantly qualified staff, but rather the challenges we English speakers encounter in learning Spanish as a second language. One of the seldom-mentioned challenges we face is understanding the differences between the Latin American and North American cultures as it pertains to the actual use of the language. Tied into and intricately connected with this issue is obviously the speaker's level of fluency.  Even as I continue to study and practice, I am aware of how much I still lack in my own understanding of this subject, which only amplifies my own desire to continue improving.

Several months ago a friend asked me to blog on the "conditional verb tense and its use in diplomacy and its cultural implications."  I have procrastinated in doing so, mainly because it is actually rather complicated...and delicate...and sensitive…, but most of all because I know I will never be able to do the subject justice.  All I can hope for is to sufficiently pique your interest so that you begin your own pursuit of the topic, especially if you are a missionary or working for an NGO in Latin America.  If you learn this tense, when and how to use it in its culturally appropriate context, you will be doing yourself and those you wish to serve a great service.

Unfortunately, in my experience, many missionaries and foreign aid workers stop far short of this level of fluency. Some because their sending agencies themselves do not recognize the long-term value in reaching fluency, some because they are unwilling to invest the nine months to one year that is needed to achieve it, some because of innocent or willful ignorance of the importance of being fluent and understanding the culture, and some because of pride, but all to the detriment of the mission. I have witnessed time and again the negative results of going only part of the way towards learning the host culture's language. The results I routinely observe in these missionaries are: a life frustrated by a lack of fluency that makes even normal daily life difficult (most often ending in a premature return to their home country), the inability to fulfill their calling or to build deep, meaningful relationships and in some cases a complete dependence on translators. In several unfortunate scenarios I have witnessed relationships destroyed because of their inability to fully and appropriately express themselves, especially in this area of understanding the cultural use of the language and its tenses.

In my opinion, ignorance of the cultural issues associated with the language is a direct result of the teaching method used in high schools, universities, and most language schools. In these contexts, the emphasis is typically on how to conjugate the verb in the conditional tense and where to use it in a sentence, never on its cultural use.  As an example of this problematic method, I have included the following explanation of the Conditional tense from StudySpanish.com (which is otherwise a very good resource and one we recommend to our students)

“Frequently, the conditional is used to express probability, possibility, wonder or conjecture and is usually translated as would, could, must have or probably."

Note: Some people confuse this tense with the subjunctive because of some similarities.

Notice there is nothing said about the use of the conditional as an expression of courtesy or as a way to mitigate a strong statement or to make a request sound more like a request and less of a demand. It says nothing of how to use it in order to be diplomatic in a disagreement or to present a differing opinion in an inoffensive way. Here is where the cultural value of the conditional should be understood and, hopefully, wielded with at least some level of skill.

In simple terms,
using the conditional tense versus the present tense is the difference between;
can I and could I, will you and would you or we want and we would like.

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I first became aware of the importance of this verb tense during a refresher course I took several years ago with one of our senior teachers. During the lesson I asked her to describe how most North Americans sound culturally to Hondurans. She blushed and at first did not want to answer. When I finally coerced her into telling me, she said "After years of working with Americans I am still shocked at how direct you all are." As she gave me real-life examples I sensed that this topic truly deserved my attention if I was serious about living, working, and ministering effectively in Honduras. Now I find myself constantly listening to Hondurans and how they phrase certain things.  I listen to Gringos and try to hear them as a Latino hears them, especially while expressing opinions or asking for something.  I listen to the tone of voice, the grammar, and the phrasing.  What I hear from Americans is most often direct, abrupt, bordering on rude, and usually totally acceptable in our own culture. Except we aren't in our own culture. We are uninvited guests in someone else's country, in someone else's culture.

By nature I am not a particularly diplomatic person.  I prefer direct, open discussion rather than polite statements - strong and earnest debate over beating around the bush.  I often become passionate about a subject. My blood boils easily. In fact, I am a typical North American. Because of this, I recently felt the need to apologize to a friend of mine, a former congressman, after a phone conversation during which I became a little too "energized."  As I hung up, I found myself involuntarily cringing as I replayed our conversation as he must have heard it. I saw him in the store a few days later and I told him I needed to ask his pardon. He laughed and asked what for, to which I replied, "During our conversation the other day I spoke to you like a Gringo. I'm sorry." He, with true Honduran politeness, kindly denied it, but I knew it was true...and I know he did too.

However, I'm learning.

A couple of years ago I was honored to participate in a community water project meeting sponsored by FAO and my friend Marlen. I learned by listening to her how to present an opposing idea in a courteous manner. A long, thoughtful pause followed by "o...podria ser..." (very long rolling of the R in ser ). How simple and polite to say, " or...it could be..." And how different from, "No, that won't work, we should do it this way" as we Americans would say. Almost weekly I sit through community meetings, water project meetings, business meetings, staff meetings, contract negotiations, and more. With each experience I gain a little more insight into the Latin Culture. Little by little I am learning, but I'm only learning because it's important to me to represent myself, my business, my mission, and most importantly the One I serve to the best of my ability.

I admire my friend Tim Nelson in many ways. He and I are the same age and I admire the fact that he still has a full head of hair (well, that feeling may be closer to envy than admiration, but there's a fine line between those two emotions anyway).  Tim grew up in Latin America and has lived there most of his life. He uses the conditional tense without even knowing he does. More importantly, Tim understands the culture. He understands that in Latin America how we express our doubts, opinions, and differences is very important. I have never seen Tim offend anyone by the way he says something. That Latino sensitivity to speech is exhibited in the way Tim speaks to Americans as well. It makes me think that maybe the way we Americans do things isn't always right after all. Podria ser?

As I read this before posting I realize there is so much more that could be said or should be said. I realize that, just as I feared, I did not do the subject justice. However, as someone who does have a fair amount of experience in this area, let me end by saying this. If you are studying Spanish, by all means learn all the "hondureñismos" and all the slang you can. They're cute and they too have their place in the culture. But if you want to be respected, if you want your opinions to be valued, your input appreciated, and if you want to be inoffensive in your speech — learn the conditional tense and how to use it properly.

Note: Should you be interested in taking a class that is specific to a grammatical/cultural topic such as the conditional tense (or any other tense), we offer one-on-one lessons geared specifically to your needs and your level of fluency here at the Spanish Institute of Honduras. Visit us at www.ispeakspanish.org or on Facebook for more information. We now have online classes available at spanishinstituteofhonduras.com or contact us by email at mark@spanishinstituteofhonduras.com for more information.

"Come as friends, leave as family" - The Spanish Institute of Honduras, Thanksgiving Day, 2016

To my Father

My father was born on the 31st of January, 1931. Only days ago, in the early morning hours of October the 12th, 2016, I was with him as he drew his final breath. The reality of his passing has still not fully woven itself into my consciousness. Even now, as I sit in the kitchen of my parent's home of 45 years, the place that for me will always remain my own heart's home and the wellspring of most of my childhood memories, I wait for him to come and sit at the table with me. And I remind myself, again, that he is not coming. For those of us who loved him, an era has come to an end.

One of my favorite photos of Mom and Dad, Aug 1952

My father was an unusual man in so many different ways. I have never met anyone less attached to, or driven by the need to accumulate material possessions. As one of my siblings pointed out; he never coveted a new or even a better car, never had a hobby, never worried about the loss of what he did have, nor did he leave behind one significant item, not one, that we could say, "Let's keep this because it reminds us of Dad." The one thing he cherished was his home. It wasn't the sticks and shingles or the fixtures and furniture that he was enamoured with - the good Lord knows all that would have collapsed around his head years ago if Mom hadn't kept up on it - but what he loved was the essence of "home". His desire was to stay there until he died, and he did just that.

It wasn't as though Dad had no affections for this world or that he left nothing to us. He loved the beauty of creation and he imparted to me this same love and appreciation long before his passing. Each time I find myself marveling at the sheer beauty of a fire-wrought sunset, the vast sweep of valley merging into spired mountains or breathe in the summer-scented air of that golden hour of each day we call evening, I sense him revelling in it with me and through me. Dad loved adventure and travel and I too share with him the same wanderlust, the same restless spirit, the same desire to see what's around the next bend in the road and the willingness to go find out. These then are a part of my inheritance, and when I consider them I find them to be of far greater worth than a pocket watch, a table saw or a collection of CDs.

The greatest pursuit of my father's life was God. I wish that I could write that because of this he - and by extension, we, his family - had an idyllic life. Sadly, this was not the case. His quest for personal holiness not only lead us down some very difficult and heart wrenching paths, but actually caused nearly irreparable spiritual damage to my family that is only now beginning to heal itself. My father's minimalistic personality combined with his austere perspective of faith, eventually lead him to build a church and a life based on the doctrines and examples of the early Quakers, who he revered. Despite the fact that my father adhered to some very odd and somewhat works based beliefs, I know that for the past 55 years he loved the Lord and lived his life according to the light given him - as the Quakers would have said. Because of this, I respect my father and have assurance that he is in Heaven, and I want share the events that took place in the final week of my father's life. It is my own faith bearing testimony to the power of God at work.

Dad and Mom (center) cerca 1977

Dad, my grandmother and Mom during the 11 years away from his church

Those of you who follow my blog are aware that we moved to Honduras four years ago. Having lived just down the road from my parents for years, not being able to drop by whenever we wanted to has been difficult. This past summer, I begin to feel an increased urgency in my spirit that I needed to visit them - soon. Because of this, I booked tickets for myself and Thomas several months ago, clearing our ever busy schedule for a two week visit. Four days before we were to leave for Maine, we received the shocking news that my father had only weeks to live.

The pillars of my life were shaken. I knew this day was inevitable, but this was so unexpected. My parents had been the one constant in my life for 53 years and now I was being asked to envision my world with a father shaped hole in it. On the flight from San Pedro Sula to Boston I selfishly worried about what I would say to him when I arrived. What does one say to someone, especially someone you love deeply, when they have just found out that their time on this earth is short? I'm sorry? I will miss you? This isn't fair? Every thing I thought of seemed shallow and puerile. I called several friends who I knew had themselves confronted this day, seeking advice. Each one said the same thing in different ways. "Mike, you are being given a gift that not everyone is given. You have the chance to say good bye, to remember the good times together and to be there for him. Just say I love you."

And that is what I did. I spent ten quality days with my dad. We spent time together. We reminisced. We visited the cemetery where he would be buried. We laughed together even as I tried hard not to cry. And I told him I loved him. On Saturday, just a few days before he passed, we had a family get-together filled with food and laughter and love. It was a beautiful New England fall day, crisp and cool, the trees a flaming barrage of color. My dad was feeling good and he sat on the porch railing and once again told us the stories of his life, of his and my mother's courtship, of his time in Korea and the early days of his childhood. It was a good day, a blessed day.

Thomas and I were scheduled to leave for Honduras on Wednesday. Dad was looking good and doing well, and I was fully prepared to fly back to Maine as soon as needed. On Tuesday, the day before we were to leave, Dad woke up feeling weak. Up until that day he had experienced very little pain, had been walking on his own, and was completely cognizant. At noon I helped him to the restroom, carried on a conversation with him and then helped him sit at the kitchen table. Shortly afterward, his conversation became jumbled and confused and within an hour he had drifted into a nearly comatose sleep. I called the airline and cancelled our flights.

Hospice delivered a hospital bed that evening and we made room for it in the kitchen, his favorite room in the house and the place that for years most of our family's indoor life had taken place. My sister, who has been a nurse for many years, warned us that Dad had entered that transition from life to death and that it could be several several days before he passed on.

At different times throughout the evening, we gathered around his bedside and sang his favorite hymns. Even from the depths of his sleep he tried to sing with us. We prayed together as a family. We took turns in private saying goodbye. We told him we loved him and that it was okay to leave us whenever he was ready.

As evening turned to night, several of us sat near his bed in the dimly lit kitchen, the house quiet except for the ragged breathing of my father. I picked up my Bible and began to read aloud some of the great passages of Scripture, those with a promise for all who believe in the Great King and in His promise of Life Eternal. I read, my voice breaking often as I tried to stem the tears, and as I read his breathing softened and lost it's harsh rasping. A peacefulness came over the room. Eventually, I turned to Isaiah the prophet and read that wonderful invitation given to each of us, we who have nothing to offer in exchange for God's grace and salvation.

"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; 

and you who have no money, come buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.

Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?

Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good and delight in the richest of fare.

Give ear and come to me; that your soul may live."

I continued reading into chapter 56, my ear tuned to his now peaceful breathing. I read these verses:

"And foreigners who bind themselves to the Lord to serve him,

to love the name of the Lord, and to worship him, 

all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it and hold fast to my covenant" -

And as I read the following verse, I heard him breathe his last, a breath and a half, and his spirit left his body and winged it's way towards heaven, lifted and carried higher and higher by these words.

"These I will bring to my holy mountain

and give them joy in my house of prayer." (Isa. 56:7)   

I knew he was gone, but I continued reading not wanting that moment to end. All that week the tears and the sadness had lingered just below the surface of every conversation, of every thought, but the moment that my father's spirit left his body I was filled with an inexpressible joy that filled my being. It was heaven's own joy and it was for my father, because I knew that for perhaps the first time in his life he was happy and at peace. The gloriousness of what he was experiencing was made real to me in that moment and it was as though I could see my father leaping and bounding towards the One whom he had sought for so long. All of his questions and the imperfections that had plagued and driven him for most of his life were being answered and washed away. The verse in 1 Corinthians 13 resounded in my head, "For now we see as through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then I shall know even as also I am known." (vs 12)  My father was seeing face to face the great Creator!

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Note:    I wrote much of this post shortly after Dad's passing. I have waited to publish it because I wanted to hold my memories to myself for a time, to cherish them. I wanted to return to my wife and two sons who could not be there with us and share with them the intimate details of those final days. On our return, we set apart an evening to spend together sharing "Papa" memories. I told them this and other stories of his last days and moments on earth, as we laughed and mourned together. Today I share this with you. If even one reader finds peace, or wisdom, or comfort, or hope, or solace, or joy, or salvation through this account, then I gladly open my heart to you.

My father was far from perfect, but I learned to love him through and in spite of his faults; and that is perhaps the greatest love of all. Even as I put the finishing touches on this post, I do it through a blur of tears. As I write, I have stopped often to weep and to mourn again my father's passing. I mourn for what could have been and I mourn for what was and what is lost and what will never be. But, I rejoice in knowing that he and I will meet again, and that all my own imperfections and the things that at times make me unlovable will also be washed away, even as his has been. I rejoice in knowing that his death has brought me and my family closer together than we have been in years. And I rejoice that God's Word is proved true and trustworthy.

La Cucarachita

It's still a legend. 

1982 VW Cucarachita

With 21,529,464 produced world wide, the VW Beetle holds the record as the longest-running, most-manufactured car ever produced on the same platform. First built in 1938, the "peoples car" became one of the most popular and affordable cars ever made. Finally, after 65 years of production, on the 30th of July, 2003 in Puebla, Mexico the last "Bug" rolled of the assembly line.

The Beetle has been sold under various names around the world. In the USA it was called the "Bug". In Brazil the "Fuzca", in France the "Coccinelle" and here in Honduras the "La Cucarachita".

The Bug is an amazing little car really. It has a very simple, horizontally opposed, air cooled engine that can be removed from the car in about half an hour making roadside repairs a cinch. The independent rear suspension combined with the front swing axle gives the car a very decent ride, even on the roughest terrain. It's narrow chassis made it ideal for the small streets of old European cities and narrow mountain or jungle roads alike. With the engine sitting directly over the rear wheels, the traction is quite good, and if all else fails, it is so light that it is easily pushed or lifted. Its flat bottomed floor pan leaves nothing to drag on uneven roads and at times has even allowed the car to float.

In the '60s and '70s the Bug reached iconic status during the "hippie" era. It even became a super star in the 1968 hit movie Herbie, the Love Bug. Another claim to fame the Bug has is the infamous children's game "Punch Buggy". Over the years, millions of bruised young shoulders have attested to the popularity of this game. The game is played like this; whenever a Bug is sited you shout the words "punch buggy, no return" while accompanying them with a solid punch to the upper fore arm of your unsuspecting and less observant companion. (No return means that if the bug passes you again, it cannot be reused against you, an interesting form of self protectionism)

And now Thomas is the proud owner of a 1982 Cucarachita made in Brazil

We saw this little guy for sale on the side of the road in Valle de Angeles last November and decided to buy it as a birthday present for Thomas. It's original owner was from France and when he sold it, it was passed down through several different hands until it reached us. It needs some TLC and we just rebuilt the engine, but overall it is a solid little car that we hope will give us years of fun.

Who says life has to be boring!

Below is an interesting embankment/rock formation Barbe and I saw during a recent trip to the natural hot springs near Gracias Lempira. It has nothing to do with the VW Beetle, but I thought it was cool enough to warrant publishing.

When the righteous prosper the city rejoices...

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 11, verses 10,11 (NIV)

King Solomon

10. When the righteous prosper, the city rejoices;

when the wicked perish, there are shouts of joy.

11. Through the blessing of the upright a city is exalted,

but by the mouth of the wicked it is destroyed.

I think about this proverb almost every time I go to San Pedro Sula or Tegucigalpa. I think about it almost every time I read the paper or watch the news here in Honduras. The media isn't shy about showing in bloody detail the bodies of the daily slain. Corpses slumped behind the wheel of a bus or lying like rag dolls on a dusty street, blood seeping from bullet holes, staining the ground.

I preach this message every chance I have to those in power. Congressmen, mayors, Ministers of one branch of government or another, military leaders and the common man. But especially to those in positions of governmental leadership because they have the power and responsibility to initiate change. 

A proverb from a biblical perspective is; "a short saying that expresses a general truth for practical, godly living".

This particular proverb is also a principle; "a basic truth or idea that forms the basis of something, a law or fact of nature that explains how something works or why something happens."

I like biblical principles because, in general, anyone, saint or sinner alike, should they choose to live a life based on these principals will prosper and benefit by doing so. They are universal. 

What is it about Proverbs 11:10 - 11 that captures my attention? 

Honduras has a crime and security problem. There's no denying it, the numbers never lie. It's rampant and out of control. Gangs extort protection money from businesses. Muggings and robberies are common. There are areas of the government where corruption is alive and well. Changes are being made, but the problems are huge, deeply embedded and seemingly insurmountable. The wicked are prospering, but there is no rejoicing in these cities. Instead there is fear, economic depression and little hope.

On the other hand. When the righteous prosper, those who are "living right" socially, morally, and ethically responsible lives with regard to themselves and their neighbors, a city does rejoice. Why? Because when people are able to employ freely, to invest, to expand their businesses and their personal lives without fear for their lives, fear of extortion, free from the threat of crime and corruption there is security and freedom to follow their dreams and this breeds prosperity. A healthy, safe environment brings economic and intellectual growth. When men and women are living and working in an atmosphere of safety and security, they find ways to create a better life for themselves and their families. Prosperity created righteously invests in things that are good and beneficial for society. Things like schools, universities, hospitals, parks and infrastructure, but wealth created through criminal activities is rarely spent on things that improve and strengthen a city's well being.

Honduras is an amazing country and has such tremendous potential for growth and development. Honduras is not a poor county. It is a country teeming with natural resources and a population desirous of work and a better life. Sadly, until the government can control the criminal elements and eradicate corruption I have serious doubts that Honduras will ever fully achieve and maintain a vibrant economy and obtain First World status.

When the righteous prosper the city rejoices...

The same can be said for a country.

30,000 + (2)

In my last blog, 30,000 +, I revisited just one of my post that continues to receive hits over three years later. There are a couple other post that I'd like to comment on today.

My most read post of the 148 I have written is Live like a King on $1200 a Month.  This post is visited almost daily. I imagine folks who read this are looking to beat the "system" or looking to retire in a place where their social security dollar goes further, or like us, just wanting to do life different(ly).

I recently read a post in another blog where the writer claimed that it took $110,000 USD per year to live in El Salvador, Honduras' neighbor to the west which, admittedly, does enjoy a slightly better economy. Even still, I was shocked to say the least. (Also understood; should you choose to live in one of Honduras' 2 larger cities, cost will be higher than we experience in Siguatepeque) However, here are few things I want to mention to help keep things in the proper perspective which, as I wrote in my last post, is of paramount importance to retain.

• Many Americans moving here choose to live in very elite neighborhoods because in comparison to the US it is such a bargain. However, in general we would NEVER be able to live in a similar neighborhood in the US on our incomes. (Here is where proper perspective is needed.)
• Most Americans, because we do want a comparable lifestyle to the US, have multiple vehicles, something that only the very rich here enjoy, which does elevate our expenses. (I would estimate that 80% of Hondurans have NO vehicle)
• We enjoy internet and cable TV packages with US programming in English.
• We shop at the "American" style food stores and buy the foods we love.
• We eat out often.
• We go to the movies.
• We fly back and forth to the States a lot.
• Perspective/reality check: The GNI per capita income in Honduras is $2,270 yearly. (avg. middle class personal income is $400 -600 per month.) Question: If you live in Honduras, what is your monthly income for comparison purposes and what income category does that place you in?

Most Americans that come to Honduras actually want to live in "little America" here, and because it possible to do that at bargain basement prices, it is easy to end up living an "upper class" lifestyle on a "middle class" North American income. Which actually makes my point, that living in Honduras, no matter what level of life style you choose, is an incredible bargain. 

Have you seen pictures of the house we live in which is in the best "barrio" in Siguatepeque? Granted, we live here because the Spanish Institute of Honduras operates from here, but even still, we could afford this on even a minimal American income. Here's the question; could I as a small business owner in the US live in an equivalent house in an equivalent neighborhood? I think not!

Myth Busted:

I stand by my original post; you can live like a King here in Honduras on $1200 a month.

La Casa Grande

Another post that has received many views is Carlos; the baby in the bag. Carlos is now "Carlitos" and is the light of our lives. 

Each Easter Las Alfombras de Comayagua is viewed repeatedly.

Las Alfombras

Another much viewed post is Avoiding the God Complex. I find it interesting that many of my more read post are usually the ones I write to try to keep my self honest and with a proper perspective. Or the ones that I have written with open honesty. Writing Naked, A Boring Life?, just to mention a few.

So there you have it. Here's something honest and true. It's April, my least favorite month of the year to be in Honduras. It's hot, dry, dusty and smokey here in Siguatepeque and will be for all the month of April and some of May. The air hangs heavy and oppressive. I say this so that I won't leave you with the impression that Honduras is the Garden of Eden. It isn't. I don't write for a travel blog trying to sell you a "lifestyle". I freely acknowledge that Honduras has many problems and many issues that Hondurans and foreigners alike must deal with. But I will say this; we are blessed to be here.  

30,000 +

Each time I have reached 10,000 new page views I have reviewed and commented on some of my old blog post and shared some of my personal favorites. This week, according to my blogger stats, I surpassed 30,000 visits from folks around the world.

Some of my post, even after several years, continue to be read regularly. I'm assuming this happens because the title or content comes up in an internet search. One of these is Road signs: are they really necessary?  I wrote that post on July 18, 2012. We had decided to move to Honduras for "six months or so", but we weren't planning on leaving until January of 2013. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the amount of things we needed to do before leaving. Things like closing down my business, renting the house, selling, storing or throwing away so many things we had collected over the years. The expenses we were incurring to make the move were mounting into the thousands of dollars cutting into our savings. On top of this, we were planning on driving to Honduras. Many people thought we were crazy and I was beginning to doubt if our decision was the right one. And then...at least for me....something happened that assured and reassured me that we were still on the right road.

What I realized was that so much of why I needed to be reassured was because of my own personal fear. Fear for our safety, both bodily and financially. Fear of failure itself. Fear of a loss of respect should we fail. Fear of the unknown. I learned a lot about myself in those months leading up to our departure. Below is an excerpt from my post, Fear; What's to worry about? Three years later I am even more convinced that what I wrote is true.

"What are the ill effects of fear.  Fear is often exhibited through self protectionism. Because we are afraid of being hurt we refuse to love or to trust unconditionally. We look down on and deride those who are different than ourselves hoping to cover our own insecurities. Because we are afraid of the future, we are unable to live for the day. Because we are afraid of poverty tomorrow, we hoard today and call it good stewardship. Fear of rejection keeps us from giving of ourselves wholeheartedly. We often hide the fear behind jokes, doctrines, rules, masks and it is that same fear that keeps us there, in hiding." 

Looking back now I wonder what I was worried about. Everything has turned out just fine. We have a great life here. Of course I understand it could have been different. We could have been robbed in Mexico. We might of have had to return to the US broke and disillusioned. I thank God that none of my fears came to pass. On the other hand, who knows what life may have dealt us if we had listened to our fears and stayed home.

As the owners of the Spanish Institute of Honduras, Barbe and I welcome a constant stream of new missionaries arriving in Honduras each month. Their first stop is language school. Here is where they face their own fears, where they learn to match the realities of life here in Honduras with the often false expectations and fears they have arrived with. Some approach this new life as a grand adventure, others with timidity. Eventually, all either adjust to the "new normal" or they return home.

Here is some of what I have learned over the past few years about managing fear and transition, this through my own experience and from being intimately involved in helping over 200 new missionaries adjust to a new life.

• Keeping things in perspective is the greatest thing you can do to help yourself adjust. 
• Matching the actual reality here with the expectations you arrived with.
• Facing your fears honestly, and that means facing yourself.
• Enjoying all of the new experiences, the ups and the downs.   

I could add many other things to this list; but why these?

Because perspective keeps us grounded. A leaky faucet in Honduras leaks exactly the same as one in Texas. Flat tires and car problems are part of life...anywhere. Sometimes we really can't find chocolate chip cookies when we want them, even at Walmart. Bad things happen to good people everywhere in the world. We are not suddenly "special" because we now live in a third world country and we should not allow ourselves or others to elevate us to that status.

Matching reality to your expectations. This is huge. Over and over I hear people complain about the how bad the driving is here, that the heat is horrendous, that the safety issues keep them trapped behind walls, the bugs are... Here is the reality. Mosquitoes in Maine are actually far worse and larger than in Siguatepeque. Many of the southern states are actually hotter and more humid than most of Honduras, yes...even San Pedro Sula. Crime is everywhere, just watch the news. The sooner one actually grounds themselves in reality and let's go of what is false, the sooner everything stops being a big deal and a huge trial. Trust me, the life we Gringos have here is REALLY GOOD. Shhh, don't tell anyone. We wouldn't want folks back home to have to adjust their misconceived ideas to meet reality too.

Facing yourself and your fears. There is no better time to do this than during transition. Fear, change and the unknown bring out the best and the worst in us. It did in me and it has in everyone else I've seen. We can run, but we can't hide. Everywhere I go, there I am. Truths. So use this opportunity to get to know yourself. For those of you with faith in God, let Him use this time to change and transform you.

Enjoy it. As my globe trotting friend Bob Beckett says, "After the pain of the event is over, it's all about the stories." This philosophy has literally changed my life. Wrap your arms around each new experience. Inhale it, make it yours and part of who you are becoming.

Well, when I started writing this morning I had no intentions of going in this direction or rambling on for so long. I still haven't commented on my top, most read post Live Like a King on $1200 a Month. Talk about perspective and reality! Yeah, I definitely need to comment on this one.

Our First Well for Public Schools; we need your help

Team NGF at the school where we installed the purification system, June 3013

We became involved in water projects in public schools shortly after we arrived in Honduras three years ago. It all began when we were preparing to host our first STM team from our home church. We had only been down here a few months and I was struggling to put something together for them to do while in-country. A week before the team arrived, everything I had planned started to unravel. My friend Paul Hosier, a missionary with BMDMI, suggested that some of my team help him install a water purification system in one of the rural schools in our area. I immediately agreed, and so began my interest in water purification and our on-going relationship with the public school system.


Not being satisfied with the purification system we were using lead me to start our own company, Inversiones Wolfe Honduras SA de CV, in order to become a distributor for Sawyer Water Filters whose product I felt was far more efficient and cost effective. I then created our own social project "Agua Limpia para las Escuelas" where our company donates Sawyer filters to public schools, gives charlas (talks) to the students on why drinking purified water is critical to a healthy life and, as time allows us, we return to talk about Christian values. Our project has received recognition by the Minister of Education and is one of the things I love best about what we do in Honduras.

Chris (left) and me with Minister of Education Marlon Escoto 

As Chris and I traveled around Honduras, speaking at public schools and working through them to bring purified water and health education to the students, one of the things we realized is that often the schools have no water source of their own. Children have to bring their own water, and usually if the school doesn't have water it's because the community doesn't have water. Seeing what many of these kids are drinking and seeing how difficult it is to provide drinking water and proper sanitation for them lead me to enlarge our vision for what we do in public schools to include drilling wells. Out of this desire, and the need for water in general here in Honduras, was born our newest company, Pozos para Todos. (Wells for Everyone)

I have identified the first school we would like to drill at. The name of the school is Enma Romero de Callejas and is located in Colonia Juan de La Cruz Avelar here in Siguatepeque. This particular barrio is very dry and has extremely limited water resources. The water the school does receive is very contaminated and should only be used for flushing toilets, which doesn't stop the kids from drinking it. The school has almost 500 students, so as you can imagine, there is rarely enough water even for sanitation.

Centro Basico Enma Romero de Callejas

This natural "pool" on the edge of the school property indicates water is here

Although contaminated, some of the kids still drink from this

Solicitud

I have already begun the permitting process needed to open a well. I have the "solicitud" from the school requesting the project and our geologist has begun the required geological study. I have asked the Ministry of Education to be involved and this coming week will meet with the patronato of the colonia asking them to provide manual labor as needed including guarding the rig at night. Hopefully, we will have the drilling permit by mid May and can begin shortly afterward.

The cost of drilling a well is substantial and although we support ourselves personally, we do need your help funding projects like this. We have some funds already available thanks to gifts from some dear friends and two churches who regularly give towards our water projects. Should we decide that a hand style pump is suitable for this well, we have a tentative commitment from a Canadian organization to provide the pump, which is a large expense item. And of course our company will cover a substantial part of the cost as our gift back to missions.

Your help in funding this project, and future ones, would be very much appreciated. If you would like to give a tax deductible gift to help bring water to the school children of Honduras, the Camino Foundation has a set up an account to receive donations specifically for our water projects. Clicking on this link will take you directly to the donate page.

Thank you so much for your generousity

2015 in Review

Last year we experienced many challenges, struggles, changes and victories. Overall, I would say that 2015 was a successful year. We expanded our businesses substantially, and saw continued growth in the Spanish Institute of Honduras and in our family's personal ministries.

Last goodbye at the airport

One of our greatest successes was to finally see the adoption of Luis completed. Luis came to live with us near the beginning of March 2013. One year and 9 months later his adoption was finalized and he now lives with his forever family in North Carolina. His adoptive parents came and stayed with us two and a half months as they waited for the final papers to be done. They were so patient and on Dec. 23rd, they flew home just in time to spend their first Christmas together as a new family. We saw a recent picture of Luis playing in the snow, a first for him. Our house seems much emptier without him.



Mark, after more than half a year spent in the USA and three months traveling through Europe and Africa, returned to Honduras in November to become the Administrator at the Spanish Institute of Honduras. Not only am I very happy to have him working with me again, but he is a huge help as I have gotten busier and busier with my other businesses. He is doing a great job running the school, and as he is interested in studying international business in college, he is gaining real life experience in this field as we truly are a multi-national business.

Ben and Thomas learning to run the new rig.

Ben, Thomas and I, after much discussion and research, decided to expand Inversiones Wolfe Honduras beyond the distributorship of Sawyer filters and open a separate branch of the business called Pozos para Todos. With the help of some generous friends we were able to obtain a flexible loan through the Camino Foundation in order to purchase a used Bucyrus Erie cable tool rig and the necessary equipment and tools to open a well drilling business. We successfully completed two wells with the "new" rig, one for a church and one at Sparrow Missions' new children's home near Tela. It feels so good to be back working with machinery, getting dirty and making a living with my hands. And it feels really, really good to be working with my boys again. All three of them!


You can visit us at www.pozosparatodos.com or on Facebook. Below is a short video of the rig at work.

One my passions has been to bring jobs to Honduras. As the Institute has grown, we have nearly tripled the size of our teaching staff and now through the school and the other three businesses we, directly and indirectly, provide jobs for over twenty people. We have also added substantially to the local economy by renting numerous houses or contracting with Honduran families to house students, to the neighborhood pulperia (corner store) and other businesses, and through local and national taxes as we are a legally registered Honduran company. Seeing this growth develop has been extremely satisfying.

Some of the challenges and struggles we faced last year were; the importation of the drill rig, a very ugly and discouraging experience for me, and a review of our vision for the Spanish Institute of Honduras (fb link) and what it's Kingdom purpose is which ended in a complete overhaul of how we "do language school". Change is always difficult, especially when it affects many people, but I believe we have come through it stronger and more focused than ever before. Thanks to all of our students and their missions agencies who worked with us to implement the changes. A big thank you to our new chaplain/counselor, Gordon and his wife Anna who came on staff part time in January, for being willing to travel from Tegucigalpa each month to spend time with our students. And a very special thank you to our incredible staff of teachers. This past year, with the help of our three senior teachers, we have grown into a unified team who shares the same vision and commitment to helping missionaries not only learn Spanish, but succeed in life here in Honduras. Each day I watch with pride as our teachers, despite their own life struggles, pour their hearts and souls into each of our students as they struggle through learning how to live in a new country and learn a new language and a new culture. Our staff has been one of our greatest blessings here and I know that feeling is shared by the vast majority of our students past and present.

Our wonder, crazy beautiful bunch of teachers, but where is Jose Luis? (photo by Sarah Larson)

We have seen victories in many areas as well. Our Bible study in Cerro Azul is bearing much fruit. (That's Christianese for seeing a lot of personal growth and spiritual development happen). Barbe and I have now been traveling the two hour round trip every other Sunday for over two years. Our relationships there have deepened tremendously this past year. It has been a privilege to watch God at work in the lives of those who faithfully meet with us and to share with each other the joys and struggles of life. It is humbling to watch the mighty power of God at work changing lives. BAM, our missionary kids youth group that David Guevara and I teach, is maturing. Pastor Steve visits from Florida about every six months and spends time with Barbe and me. While he is here, we do a lot of visitation, often traveling deep into the mountains on nearly impassable roads to visit, preach and pray with the sick. Thanks Steve for all the encouragement you have been to us.

I am often asked by Hondurans and Americans alike how long we plan on living in Honduras. I always say (with the understanding that life is uncertain and the future unpredictable) that we are here to stay. With each passing year, and we are now in our third year, we are more and more deeply connected to Honduras. Of course we miss family immensely and we occasionally have a hankering for Taco Bell or Waffle House, but I can honestly say that I no longer feel as though I am a foreigner living in a foreign country. This is home. It has absolutely been a challenge to do business here, but business has also opened incredible opportunities for me to meet people and to do things I would never have been able to do otherwise. These past three years have been a grand adventure and one I am grateful to have been able to participate in.

I want to thank my wife Barbe for supporting me in all I have attempted here. For being patient with me when I take on too much and for being willing to ride the ups and downs of life with me. Thanks also to our three incredible sons. They are competent and confident young men at ease living in a foreign country. I am glad you are here doing life different with me.