Track, Granitas, and the Ballad of Billy Bob Joe

In a nest in the backyard, we found two baby doves that were still wet from the egg. They were nesting in the huge bougainvillea (here called Napoleòn).

Ranae hosted the Relief Society activity at our house on Saturday. She taught them how to make chocolate chip cookies. One of the ladies had never made any kind of cookie before. They compromised and made the batch with one stick of butter and one or margarine. Most people use margarine or manteca (not the city in California) and few actually use real butter, which of course is a superior way to make cookies.

We have been noticing what we call the Star Wars effect. We kind of feel like we are on Tatooine. If you recall during the scenes on Tatooine, there is a such a mix of fabulous technology and primitivity. We see the same here; no land speeders among camel-like caravans, but instead, people riding a horse, leading a burro with jugs tied on each side that they’ll use to fill with water for their house while talking on their Blackberry. Their house, without running water or an indoor bathroom, has a large, flatscreen TV with cable where they watch Phineas and Ferb. It is sort of like John Carter the movie—a mix of technology and simplicity.

Stuart: Monday was Honduran Father’s Day. They had an activity at the school, where I could come and eat lunch with my children in the school lunchroom. The note inviting me was also clear that I was to bring my own lunch. Then I got to play with the children. They had two waves of recess, so I got to play for a while with Aspen, then she had to go to her class, and then I played for the hour with the big boys. We played soccer—it was about 6 fathers against the 5-6th grade boy mob. We beat them, though they played really well. In the end it was sheer strength and awesomeness of the fathers that won the match. In sum, I had a great time playing with everyone there.

I was invited to go to the Biology Club dinner at the student cafeteria the other night. Supposedly, some students wanted to meet me and there was going to be a program of videos about the World Day of Water—an effort to conserve water and remind ourselves of the importance of water. The event, however, was just eating with students at the student cafeteria and a very loud (musical) presentation of slides about water on a screen on the side of the cafeteria. I took Henry, thinking it would be pretty cool for him, but nothing special went on and there was no formal event. The meat was pretty good though, with worchestershire sauce on it.

I started my mahogany project and transplanted a bunch of plants on Friday. I have to finish on Monday—make that Tuesday morning.

Jack (in blue T-shirt in First Place!!!!) ran the second leg of the Regional Youth activity (4 stakes in Tegucigalpa) at the Olympic Stadium. He did a great job and ran his heart out. Luckily he was able to rehydrate with Gatorade Thirst Quencher—Buy some today!

Henry: This coming Friday and for the next two weeks we will be off of school for Semana Santa [semana is technically 1 week, but we get two…] The electricity went out and had to use candles and flashlights. It was out for a few hours and so we didn’t have Scouts.

They painted the church inside and out. The floor is quite bright red, and in the classrooms the floor is bright white. They painted the walls brown [really a tan, up to about 3’ tall] and white. Me and Mom accidentally squished a snake while we were playing basketball. The snake was the size of a small earthworm. [it looked like a silver earthworm—Stuart saw something out there that looked like a legless lizard or something that wasn’t so snake-like. Dr. Gerson would know, but no pictures.]

Jack, Henry, Aspen, and Abe keep getting Granitas because they are great children at the school. During morning break, their teachers walk them over to the “Espresso Americano” cafe, where they can choose from tamarindo, orange, blackberry, blueberry, or pina colada flavored slushies. Henry thinks the orange are the best, like fresh-squeezed orange juice.

Ranae: On Monday I got a bag of tamarindo pods from our landlady. They have a hard crusty shell, which you crack and peel off to get at the seeds inside. The seeds are coated in a tough, chewy layer, which is what you eat. You pop it in your mouth to suck off the coating, which is as zingy as a lemon, with a nice sweetness, too. The children were delighted with the new treat. We ate them until our tongues burned from the acidity. Miriam made a delicious “refresco” drink with some. I think I would like a tamarindo tree in my yard someday. (None of us can figure out why Stuart no le gusta tamarindo.)

This week we also picked up a couple sugar canes that fell off one of the over-stuffed cargo trucks. We brought them home and everyone tried sucking on a chunk of cane after school. Interesting. Sweet. Fibrous. Definitely yummy, but then again, pretty much just like sucking sugar water out of a woody stick. We didn’t finish off the second cane.

Miriam is spectacular. Having help each day makes my life an absolute dream. I have to figure out how to take back home this feeling of ease and calm that comes from having less pressure to cook and clean each day. I find myself with more time to enjoy my children and respond to their needs and queries—more time to do my most important work. My afternoons after school are completely new—relaxed instead of packed and a bit hectic. Miriam said she would come home in my suitcase.

Midweek, Abraham found a cute little cockroach on our sidewalk. Yes, it was cute. At first he tried to spray it away with the hose, but it managed to outrun the flood, scurrying along like a tiny black ZuZu pet. Calla asked if she could pick it up. Swallowing my long-standing aversion to roaches, knowing that they are not dangerous, only disgusting, I said she could pick it up if she could catch it. She caught it, and as it tickled across her hand and arm, Calla sang to it, “Sigue el Profeta” (“Follow the Prophet”).



Abraham caught the cockroach in a 50 mL plastic test tube, filled the tube with water, and capped it with a blue screw-top lid. Abe shook the tube and watched the roach desperately swim up and down the tube. The older three children protested vehemently against Abe’s cruelty to the cockroach, so eventually he poured out the water. He then realized what a great pet he had found, and named the little creature “Billy Bob Joe.” He soon fell head over heels in love with his new friend and pinned all of his hopes for a childhood pet on this insect. The children let the roach out on our driveway, having a grand time watching it run along the cracks in the bricks. They played until dinner (well, until washing their hands before dinner).



Abe kept the tubed cockroach close during the meal, and rushed out after dinner to play some more. But alas! When he released the roach at one end of the driveway to have it run to the other side, Billy Bob Joe ran the wrong way, off the end of the driveway and into the planter box. He was lost amidst dirt and grass. Heartbroken and weeping, Abe ran into the house, straight to his bed, where he mourned like a professional, refusing comfort, questions, or even chocolate chip cookies (“Maybe later,” he told me between sobs). After a while, eyes puffy and red, Abe silently moved to the art table, where he used a black marker to draw a cockroach on a piece of cardboard and cut it out. He went outside and climbed in the hammock, gazing somberly at his drawing and swinging gently back and forth. Jack and I couldn’t decide if we should giggle or cry. Jack tenderly managed to get Abe smiling again, who finally accepted some cookies. And he asked me to write down a little epitaph on the back of his drawing: “This is Abe’s cockroach that he loved. He misses him very much. Abe tried to catch him, but he ran away into the dirt, and we tried to find him but we couldn’t. Abe misses him very much.” We are not sure we will ever have a pet like Billy Bob Joe ever again.