My fickle nature is right on track with the dedication I’ve shown to this blog. It’s just like me to join the blog bandwagon and then stumble out and get lost on the road. Why is it that the only thing I do consistently is be inconsistent? I shall now attempt to summarize all the activities I’ve been involved in for the past several months lest my readers think that Peace Corps is all play and no work.

Since my return from Spring break in Panama and Costa Rica I’ve been busy with several projects. Perhaps one of my proudest accomplishments thus far has been the dedication I’ve shown to improve myself. Being a Volunteer in a developing country entails a tremendous amount of leisure time. And depending on how the leisure is spent, it can be a wonderful stress free and guilt free time. I have spent my extra time reading my heart out, working on crossword puzzles, improving my vocabulary, learning to cook, paseando with my neighbors (which means sitting around gossiping and stuffing our faces, and, incidentally, is part of my job as a Volunteer so I am working) and, most recently, getting into shape and contemplating my post Peace Corps life. As far as the former is concerned, my physique is slowly being toned, becoming taut, and flowing with energy due to a combination of Yoga, Pilates, light muscle building using bottles of water instead of dumbbells, and running in the mornings. Yes; running! I hope those of you who know me best are reading this with your mouths just slightly dropped open in disbelief. I wake up at 5:30 am every Monday through Friday, walk up the hill to Suyapa’s house, and we traverse a dirt road that leads through the base of the mountains laden with coffee plants, over a river, up to a soccer field full of chickens looking for insects in the dewy grass. There we run for twenty minutes and walk back home for coffee and breakfast. People often slow down their trucks or their gaits - both on foot or horse - to stare at the crazy women running in circles with nothing chasing them…
No one has called me gordita in the past couple of months so I think the exercise is working. Although being called gordita here is a compliment meaning one has a full figured body, perfect for child bearing, nurturing, and cuddling, like women are supposed to have. Just last weekend Kate and I had some female guests over from Potrerillos - a small village in one of the mountains surrounding Corquin- and over coffee and vanilla bread we were flipping through People Magazines in both Spanish and English. Brenda, a 19 year old with a fantastic muscular and svelte body due to daily manual labor, came upon a Hanes underwear ad featuring a female Hispanic plus-size model. She adoringly looked at the model and said “que chulo su cuerpo”, which means “what a nice body”. Unfortunately, my experience in The States does not comply with the conventional wisdom in Central America, thus I was left feeling sorry for myself every time I was called gordita which eventually led me to take up running in circles from ghosts and foregoing tortillas with every meal.
By the way, with all the spare time on hand I’ve also started flossing. Which is even more disbelieving than the running.

In other news: Next week my site mate, Kate, finishes her 2 year service and flies back to Massachusetts in the United States of America. When she is gone I expect my experience here to change drastically. No longer will I have someone to vent my Honduran frustrations with, nor to speak English with, nor to share meals with, nor to drink wine and rum with. Of course I’ll be able to eat with my Honduran neighbors that treat me so well but their food is usually full of grease and I prefer to cook for myself. Not only is it healthier, but it gives me something to do. I’ve been mentally preparing for the change and I feel that I’m ready for it, but I won’t feel the real difference until she’s gone. Kate and I have become like sisters over the past year, caring for each other in good times and bad, and it will be another of those Peace Corps challenges learning to adapt without having her around. I will miss being myself around her because I have to act conservative and positive around the rest of my community. No more daily bowel movement conversations, sarcasm, or hanging out watching DVD’s together. Such is life.

Ahhhhhhhhh (stretching). Another “3rd world” amenity that I love is the siesta, which I just woke up from. It is Sunday (Super Bolo!), after all, but tomorrow I will take another one after lunch, a habit I’m becoming accustomed to on most days. Unfortunately, my siestas will be interrupted by actual work this week but will resume on the weekend. Tomorrow I will walk about a mile to the nearest and only internet café in Corquin. There I will post this blog and send out a translation about medicinal herbs for people living with HIV (PLWH) to my project manager in order for him to edit it before including it in our support group manual for PLWH. The manual is something I have been working on with two other Volunteers over the past five months. I’ve spent hundreds of hours on it and am excited to see that it’s finally coming to fruition. In fact, upon my return to Honduras from my visit to Texas in late August I will be participating in a three day workshop promoting the manual. Basically, the manual is a guide to facilitating support/self-help groups for PLWH. It is broken down into many sessions and each session targets an issue specific to people with HIV/AIDS. Our hope is that by the end of the group meetings the individuals will have developed a better understanding of how to cope with the virus as well as achieved a sense of higher self esteem and well being. Similar to the outcomes sought from most support groups regardless of the problem. “And so on”…

This Tuesday I teach my beloved sex education classes to 120 5th graders – we will be reviewing the external and internal genitalia of both sexes by means of a game called “pin the organs on the bodies”- and on Wednesday I teach the 6th graders the importance of good communication. On Thursday I will travel to San Pedro de Copan – the nearest town 7 kilometers away – with Marina, a nurse from the health center here in Corquin. In San Pedro I will talk about adolescence to a room full of 10 year olds. I will tell them that their bodies, if not already, will begin to change and with these physical changes come tormented mental changes as well. I will leave the word “tormented” out as to not spook them by my cynical ways. Afterwards I will come back to Corquin and trek over to Suyapa’s house for a delicious despedida dinner for Kate. On Friday morning Kate, Byron, and I will hitch hike over to Potrerillos for a despedida lunch for Kate with the library committee she helped start and various other friends and “family”. The weekend will probably consist of our own private farewell and on Monday she will be gone and my Peace Corps experience shall change once again. And to quote Kurt Vonnegut, once again, and may he rest in peace, “And so on”.