THIS IS THE COLORFUL SIGN, IN FRONT OF OUR SCHOOL AT ONE CORNER OF THE MAIN WALL, TELLING THE WHOLE WORLD WHAT WE ARE ABOUT!
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IS HE THINKING ABOUT HOW HOT IT IS HERE?
An often rambling but always insightful exposition of one far left-leaning gringo's adventures in bilingual education (and more) in the original "banana republic"
IS HE THINKING ABOUT HOW HOT IT IS HERE?
Where I Am
- Jonathan Power
- Aurora, Colorado, United States
- I am a 48 year old ESOL educator who resides in suburban Denver, Colorado. I have been a enthusiastic and creative cook for many years, and love to prepare feasts for my awesome little family and just about any larger gathering possible.
La maestra esposa y yo
a typical day for me, in cofradia aka What I Am Doing Here
six a.m. too soon. cockcrow. till noon. silent moon, creeping sun. baleada breakfast fun. my school bag weighs a ton. locked door. passing schoolbus roar. long walk in store.
smiling tykes and waving grandmas never bore. most of the houses i see are poor. seven a.m. school arrival. hopeful survival. first bell dings. second bell rings. children file. teachers maybe smile. classes start. a kid lets out a fart. teachers honor the ones who are smart. eight a.m. parent comes. my computer hums. calculating budget sums. search for tums. nine a.m. meeting with the prof. another dusty cough. seeing trash and chaos trying hard not to scoff.
ten a.m. finished recess duty. search for hidden beauty.
lead computer class. a ninth grade girl makes a pass.
what´s the name of that lass? computer room reaches a critical mass. eleven a.m. getting papers filed. putting band-aid on a child. fourth grader acting wild. another paper filed.
a long time since i smiled. twelve p.m. looking for some lunch. midday crunch. heat can pack a punch. kids kick recess soccer ball, in a bunch. one p.m. two periods left. a teacher is bereft. backup provided fast. teacher wants to blast. errant child removed. a case in point is proved. two p.m. almost time to leave. the gate begins to heave. kids push through like cattle. there still is time to tattle. the doorman in a battle.
three p.m. quick licuado stop. of rain there ain´t a drop. slow walk home is fine. dreams of rich red wine. four p.m. one more errand coming. i have noticed the lack of plumbing. no water for a shower. about to lose the power. five p.m. feet straddle hammock, at ease. the mosquitoes swarm and nibble, trying to spread disease. roommates cooking something with stinky white cheese. dinner is a breeze. six p.m. filled with starch and this and that. i give the cook a pat. our house has many ants but i have never seen a rat. i notice that i am getting much less fat. seven p.m. some reading for the job. dirty laundry like a slob. head begins to throb. my body becomes a blob. eight p.m. some more reading to be a leader. with black tea a better reader. still getting bit by mosquitoes and an unidentified bottom feeder. nine p.m. lights go out. a neighbor starts to shout. i try not to pout. another day completed-i am still winning this bout.
smiling tykes and waving grandmas never bore. most of the houses i see are poor. seven a.m. school arrival. hopeful survival. first bell dings. second bell rings. children file. teachers maybe smile. classes start. a kid lets out a fart. teachers honor the ones who are smart. eight a.m. parent comes. my computer hums. calculating budget sums. search for tums. nine a.m. meeting with the prof. another dusty cough. seeing trash and chaos trying hard not to scoff.
ten a.m. finished recess duty. search for hidden beauty.
lead computer class. a ninth grade girl makes a pass.
what´s the name of that lass? computer room reaches a critical mass. eleven a.m. getting papers filed. putting band-aid on a child. fourth grader acting wild. another paper filed.
a long time since i smiled. twelve p.m. looking for some lunch. midday crunch. heat can pack a punch. kids kick recess soccer ball, in a bunch. one p.m. two periods left. a teacher is bereft. backup provided fast. teacher wants to blast. errant child removed. a case in point is proved. two p.m. almost time to leave. the gate begins to heave. kids push through like cattle. there still is time to tattle. the doorman in a battle.
three p.m. quick licuado stop. of rain there ain´t a drop. slow walk home is fine. dreams of rich red wine. four p.m. one more errand coming. i have noticed the lack of plumbing. no water for a shower. about to lose the power. five p.m. feet straddle hammock, at ease. the mosquitoes swarm and nibble, trying to spread disease. roommates cooking something with stinky white cheese. dinner is a breeze. six p.m. filled with starch and this and that. i give the cook a pat. our house has many ants but i have never seen a rat. i notice that i am getting much less fat. seven p.m. some reading for the job. dirty laundry like a slob. head begins to throb. my body becomes a blob. eight p.m. some more reading to be a leader. with black tea a better reader. still getting bit by mosquitoes and an unidentified bottom feeder. nine p.m. lights go out. a neighbor starts to shout. i try not to pout. another day completed-i am still winning this bout.
JP´s Favorite Meals in Honduras (so far)
Whole fried fish at Panchy's beachside hut in Triunfo de La Cruz, prepared Garifuna style slathered in crunchy garlic and copious amounts of cooking oil
(all text in bold here because this was the single BEST meal I had)
Seafood curry at Twisted Tanya´s Bar and Restaurant, Copan Ruinas (chock full of fresh mussels, shrimp, fish, and clams)
Breast of deep fried chicken atop a volcanic mound of tajadas (fried plantain strips) and cabbage salad at Comedor Lela, right here in Cofradia
Pincho de Res Grande platter at that tipico restaurant whose name starts with an E, next to the central park in Santa Lucia (this platter had exquisite fried chorizo, pork cutlet, and a half-mile long skewer of beef)
BLT at D and D Brewery near Lago de Yojoa (made NYC deli style, with long, hearty strips of bacon, freshly ripened tomato, and just the right amount of mayonnaise)
Thanksgiving feast that I prepared for our teaching team at my house in Cofradia. This feast included a balsamic-splashed stirfry with fresh zucchini and green beans, lime-balsamic basted chicken breasts, a huge salad of pristine spinach, cilantro, and bleu cheese with a tart citrus dressing, and newly-picked asparagus spears with the same tart citrus dressing
(all text in bold here because this was the single BEST meal I had)
Seafood curry at Twisted Tanya´s Bar and Restaurant, Copan Ruinas (chock full of fresh mussels, shrimp, fish, and clams)
Breast of deep fried chicken atop a volcanic mound of tajadas (fried plantain strips) and cabbage salad at Comedor Lela, right here in Cofradia
Pincho de Res Grande platter at that tipico restaurant whose name starts with an E, next to the central park in Santa Lucia (this platter had exquisite fried chorizo, pork cutlet, and a half-mile long skewer of beef)
BLT at D and D Brewery near Lago de Yojoa (made NYC deli style, with long, hearty strips of bacon, freshly ripened tomato, and just the right amount of mayonnaise)
Thanksgiving feast that I prepared for our teaching team at my house in Cofradia. This feast included a balsamic-splashed stirfry with fresh zucchini and green beans, lime-balsamic basted chicken breasts, a huge salad of pristine spinach, cilantro, and bleu cheese with a tart citrus dressing, and newly-picked asparagus spears with the same tart citrus dressing
JP's Vital Links
Movies viewed at City Mall Cinema while in Honduras...(5 star rating scale)
- The Departed (4 stars)
- The Prestige (4 stars)
A few stats from my nine months in Cofradia
# of miles walked in Cofradia: 300
# of cold beers consumed while debating politics with Don Max
and coming to no definitive conclusions: 88
#of baleadas eaten for breakfast: 4,015
# of children needing to be disciplined on a given day: 66
#of times the Parent's Association meetings bored me to death because I could not fully follow the Spanish: every time
#of bumpy rides taken in the back of a pick-up: 666
#of licuados guzzled at Edma's shop: 316
