Honduran Sundays

One of the many reasons in which I chose to spend a year in Honduras was to learn. I love learning, pretty obvious by the fact that I've done 19 straight years of my own schooling and am continuing the schooling as a teacher. Something that I have had the joy of learning and hope to keep learning more about is the concept of a Honduran Sunday.

Honduran Sundays fulfill what I imagine to be the definition of a Sabbath. Honduran Sundays consist of simplicity, family time, relaxation, peace, and just quality time. Honduran Sundays often mean church, cooking, hammock-ing, playing, and talking with family. There is no concept of time in a Honduran Sunday, there is only love, the present moment, and enjoyment of time together. There is no I should be doing this, I have to do a, b, c, and no complexity about it, it's time together as a family to be truly in the moment, intentional, aware, and enjoy what's around you. At least, that's what I've been learning so far. I know my learning isn't over, at least I certainly hope not, cause I intend to learn by doing.

A few Sundays ago the Spanish Vice Principal at our school, Profe. Flavia and mother of one of my adorable chinguinas (kiddos), Gabby, Flavia, Little Flavia, or Curly Cue (whichever you prefer), broke us out of "jail" for a Honduran Sunday experience. We thought we were headed to her house for a lesson on how to make Honduran tacos, hence the I'm going to wear jeggings, flats, and a top decision. We listened as she said to Peggy, yeah we're just going to my house. We watched as we turned in the opposite direction of the city. See with our new living situations, we aren't really allowed to go anywhere unless we have permission, are in a car, and with a Honduran. So we would have been given permission, but instead, Flavia just broke us right free and out of the house that has sometimes been referred to as "jail" or a hamster cage. Clearly, none of us minded this change in plans.

The new adventure we were on led us on a beautiful dirt road, past clouds, fields, mountains, and more. I just can't get enough of the Honduran sky, clouds, and sun. Our ride became a little interesting when we approached what we would soon learn was a "bridge" or a very narrow strip of wooden boards nailed together over a river. I wasn't exactly sure it was intended for cars, but we seemed to drive over it just fine. Our journey through dirt roads was a beautiful and peaceful one and ended with a steep path down, through a stream, and straight up to the most perfect house I've ever seen.

The "bridge" we crossed.

Love seeing this from the back of a pickup truck.

We arrived at Profe Flavia's parents house in a very small village. The house, shooot, is absolutely perfect. I would be so content to be there for the rest of my life with the ones I love. It's settled back amid field and farm, no other house in sight. The house itself is larger, but very simple. No doors, just hanging sheets to block and wind/rain. There's a large porch with tables for eating, chairs for resting, and of course hammocks. I know that my future life will definitely include porch life and hammock life. There was a large garden bursting with flowers and lines of laundry strewn about. In various locations the fields were filled with pigs, cows, dogs, and chicken. It was the perfect spot to break out of jail. It was just what we needed to refresh, renew, and recommit ourselves to our Honduran adventures.

Curly Cue certainly helped with that as we spent the day racing on bikes and hiking along a stream. Her older brother was a wonderful tour guide. We hiked along and in the stream for hours, to my poor bear feet's dismay. We climbed rocks and trees, saw fish, and poked around. Of course no Honduran hike would be complete without having to crawl under at least 1 barbed wire fences: this course included one lift up obstacle and one crawl under. At one point he showed us a spot where you could find natural clay. All we had to do was splash water on the rock and it would turn into perfect molding clay in our hands: I made a heart <3

Hiking along.

After the hike, we returned to the house for the best lunch ever. Carne asada (steak), chismol (pico de gallo-ish), homemade mantequilla, fresh cheese, tortillas, and refried beans. I would not only be perfectly content living there, but eating there as well. We thought that was it, but we proceeded to receive three more courses of food. Later that was followed with plantains, mantequilla and homemade cheese. That was followed by arroz con leche, which was followed by cafe and cookies. I was for sure in the hammock after all that rico-ness.

So rico.

After eating lunch, we went on another hiking adventure. This time we passed through cow and corn fields. Traversed the trickiest barbed wire adventure yet: through the middle. I don't know how my clumsy self made it through. The way back as I had one leg over and my back under the top wire, i put my hand on the tree for support, which was actually a bees nest. Somehow I managed to keep calm amidst my fear of bees to not jump or move and hit the barbed wire, but move my hand and slide on through. our adventure this time, led us to a little swimming hole and rocks to climb along the stream. It was a chillier day, so I vow to return to swim next time.

Thanks to Little Flavia for helping me with the over, under, drop of barbed wire obstacle.

I love my little Curly Cue. I'm pretty sure on Monday she asked at least 50,000 times if I had fun on Sunday.

Hiking by some cows.

The rest of the Sunday was spent playing rayuela (hopscotch) with Little Flavia, conversing with the volunteers, hammock time, and more food. It was the perfect Sunday in so many ways: it got us out, it was super fun, it was an adventure, it renewed my spirit, and it taught me more about the Honduran Sunday.

Honduran Sundays are truly something I hope to continue to nourish and value in my Honduran life and post-Honduran life. The simplicity, joy, comfort, and pure relaxation, is just how I like my quality time.