Our Honduran Home

The morning begins while it is still yet dark. I lay in the dark becoming increasingly aware of the sound of multiple roosters noisily crowing at 4:00am, with the occasional barking from dogs. I roll over, close my eyes and fall back to sleep. The next sounds I hear are coming from the kiddos room, by now its nearly 6:00am. First some jabbering from the baby soon to be followed by the others. More often then not it ends up in a disagreement over who gets to snuggle with the baby first. I get dressed and begin making breakfast; usually eggs with some yogurt, some mornings its oatmeal. Saturday is reserved for pancakes.

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At 7:45am I check my backpack. Notebook, check.. Spanish book, check. Pencil… no check. I forget it half of the time. I grab the pencil and zip up my backpack. I say bye to the kiddos and Brad and walk down the hill to the school. The smell of onions being sauteed and tortillas frying, fills my nostrils. Honduran food smells so good. I come upon a stray dog and go around it being careful not to get to close. Most of the time if you ignore them, they will ignore you. I walk several blocks, passing people on bikes, motos, cars and even a trash truck. Siguatepeque, I’ve heard, is one of the few cities in Honduras that has trash pickup. Of course, there is still plenty of trash along the roads, but it’s better than it had been. Almost to school. I pass a little garden patch that has maiz growing as high as the roof of their house, a little farther is a hibiscus tree blooming with beautiful pink blossoms, past a little pulperia store and there is the school’s gate. I glance at my phone, 7:57am, a few minutes before class starts. I take a deep breath and pray a prayer for this day at school. The next 3 hours will be full of Spanish!