Poison Panic Attack

So, for the second time this month I almost had another panic attack. It all began with a fun little trip to the downtown market. The market is full of fresh vegetables, fruits, beans, nuts, eggs, cheeses and fresh comida if you're interested. My friend April and I went to check it out together this morning. Just as she asked what I was going to keep my eye of for, I spotted fresh sweet potatoes. I bought 9 lbs of them (all for around $2.50). Then, April spotted a fruit that her roommates call the "garbage fruit" (because it smells awful as it rots and because none of them like it). She said that it's actually a cashew fruit and tastes delicious. So, we bargained with the vendor (who tried to sell us some obviously decomposing ones, which I exchanged) and brought them home to taste. April sifted through the bunch, and found three that looked worthy of eating. After biting into the first pick, she was definitely dissatisfied, which led us to throw all of them away. But before casting off the last one, I decided it might be interesting to taste the fruit of a raw cashew. And this is where the story really begins...

I took a knife and worked my way into the juicy shell. It was difficult to get the seed out, and so we just took a little bit of what we could, and tried it out. Seconds later, both her tongue and mine began to feel really weird. Not the good "yummy" weird or even the "yikes, that's sour" weird. Nope. It felt like "could this be poisonous?" weird. Quickly, I asked her boyfriend to check online if cashew nuts in the raw were poisonous. Within seconds, we had our answer: YES! In fact, raw cashews (that is, straight out of the casing) are encased in the same oil that is on poison ivy leaves. So, April and I had just swallowed a bit of  poison ivy.

My heart was racing...my stomach immediately felt loose...I felt the panic rising, the bile just back in my throat. I rushed to the bathroom; April sweetly offered her toothbrush with Trader Joe's special non-fluoride toothpaste, and I brushed for like 5 minutes. I washed my cashew-oily fingers, cut my fingernails, then proceeded to see if I needed to take any medication. The panic was not slowing down as we read a couple of stories of "raw cashew eaters" online who ended up with poison ivy all over their face and mouth, and another with permanent red marks around her mouth.

Once my stomach left me, and Lauren (the EMT roommate), who called a Honduran friend for answers, told me I would be absolutely fine, I kind of settled down. I came home a little later...brushed my teeth again, rinsed with Listerine, prayed for mercy, called my mom for further assurance, and sat down to eat some lunch (trying to not think about the strange feeling still on the tip of my tongue). Was this a panic attack? Well, maybe. But I have a healthy fear of poison ivy--after all, I have not forgotten the lesson I learned in high school after having wiped my own butt with the assassin-like leaf.

Kids

A couple weeks ago Elisa and I were invited to go out on a 'community service project' with some of my students. They told me that they had started a club that went out and planted trees in deforested areas up in the mountains. Deforestation has developed into a significant problem in this little country over the last few decades and it is becoming evident in some areas that once were purely dense jungle. So, Elisa and I were happy to get involved...but, of course, things are not always what they seem.


Allow me to digress a little bit and provide some context. When we got the job here at the American School in Tegucigalpa, we had no idea what we were getting into. To some degree, that can't be avoided when you're moving to a foreign country but I've decided that we were especially ignorant. For example, we knew that we were teaching at a private school in a third world country, so obviously there's going to be some socio-economic disparity there. But Americans tend to think that everybody is pretty much middle class, right? Well, it turns out that we teach the Rockefellers, Vanderbilts and Astors of Honduras. Our students are rich beyond your wildest dreams. Some of them are rich comparatively...in the third world, 6 figures go a long way. But most of them are just extraordinarily rich in a way that I had never experienced prior to coming here.


Let's put it this way. This is the Beverly Hills High of Honduras. These kids are the rock stars of their country. Their lives are literally chronicled in the tabloids. I'm not kidding (There is a magazine called 'Chromos' that looks just like Vogue or GQ. Last month one of the students appeared on the cover with his father and brother. The caption was: 2 Generations--One Invincible Name. On the inside was a 10 page spread on the Senior Lunch...I was there. So, I'm pretty cool.) These kids are driven to school in bullet-proof Escalades and Rovers. They go to the World Cup for summer vacation, etc. So anyway, you get the picture.


Back to the story... so two of the guys come by on Saturday morning to pick us up (in a bullet proof Lexus SUV). And off we go to redeem this 'deforested area' in Valle de Angeles about a half hour away. Well, we get there and the threatened eco-location turned out to be--one of the kid's vacation homes! Yeah! We are going to be planting trees in the 'deforested' field beside Jote's mountain villa. We were...thrilled.


We had a good time. They're actually really neat kids and have no idea how privileged (and sheltered) they really are. They aren't to blame. They were truly excited to participate in what they thought was a really good thing. So, we hung out (did waaaayyyy more work than all of them combined, as you will see in the pictures) and generally had a really good time.


So, without further ado, I present to you the current teen icons and future oligarchy of the second poorest country in our hemisphere. (Did that sound as cynical as I think it did?)

Poop Panic Attack

We just enjoyed our spring break last week--along with the rest of the country. We drove up to a little spot on the north coast of Honduras (Trujillo) in our little Kia. That car has definitely proven itself this trip! The trip should have taken only 5-6 hours, but with traffic, rough roads, and a police check at every small town (and then some), we got there in about 10 hours. We took a break in the middle (spent the night in a motel in La Ceiba) because we knew it might be a long stretch. But when we arrived at Casa Kiwi, we were ready for some R&R.

The place was very chill. We met some travelers from around the world--New Zealand, Ireland, Colombia, Ecuador, and the whole family of 20 Hondurans who squeezed into the two one-room cabins beside us. Fascinating family to watch--at the crack of dawn, they began their mornings with a few cervezas and freshly caught fish.

The beach in Trujillo is on a bay. We didn't really believe that until we got there. In our minds, we had big, ocean waves crashing in the distance, seagulls soaring above, dolphins chasing after one another in front of the sunset...and then we came up on the bay. We were a little underwhelmed. No waves. No seagulls. No dolphins. But we knew there had to be beach on the other side of the road, so we raced over that direction before sunset, and that's when we feast our eyes on the long-awaited, wave-crashing ocean. So, with that ocean in our minds, we began our week of "break." It takes a while to let out all that stored up stress, tiredness, and whatever else has nestled itself up inside you. Within in a few days, we were finally relaxed, and we found out why the bay was such an attraction. One really could get lost staring at the glass of the sea...and reading fun beach reads! (thanks, Mom!)

I did, however, have my first panic attack. I know, right? We're on the most tranquil beach in the whole of Honduras, crystal clear water all around...what's to panic about? Well, on our last afternoon at Casa Kiwi, Colin and I decided to go snorkeling. We heard there was a shipwreck about 200 meters off shore that we could swim out to and see some interesting stuff. So, without much thought, we grabbed our snorkeling gear and began our walk down the beach.

Now, the beach really turned into the dump as we walked further down shore. The sand disappeared beneath the bark, branches, random bottles (glass and plastic), shoes, underwear, used syringes and a sundry of other things (not to mention the smell had begun to resemble that of a port-a-potty). Well, as we came upon this huge pile of decomposing mulch, I basically fell in and lost my shoes (I retrieved them afterwards). As my feet sank into the muck, all I could think was that I was falling into people's poop! The smell, the feel, the endless sinking...I couldn't take it! I began to WAIL. And Colin was completely astonished, but he tried to get me to snap out of it. The attack lasted a good five minutes of panic, crying, near-hyper ventilating, sniffling to calm down, and then complete quiet. Weird. I thought the coast was clear until we found our stopping point. I looked down at the water that we had to swim out in (at least 20 condoms were floating around the sea grass) to get to the shipwreck. My breathing picked up. Unwisely, I hopped into the water...immediately got on my back and did the backstroke (in knee-deep water) for as long as I could. Colin was really worried about me. However, after a quick prayer, asking God to just calm me down and help me trust him, I made it past the murky waters and into the deep. I was able to enjoy snorkeling around the shipwreck (Colin's made for underwater sports!) and saw beautiful starfish, schools of fish, and a mermaid. It was worth the trip.

We did not take the beach back--we got up on the road and hitched back to camp. Much better idea. Why didn't we think of that in the first place?

So, we're back home, with tomorrow off. I'm glad to be back. The break was nice, but it's nice to be in your own nest, you know? And I'm looking forward to hearing about my friends (and students) adventures over the week.

We've passed this bridge before on another trip. However, the sunken bus caught our eye. We later learned that this wreck had occurred early that week because the driver didn't see the big blockade to warn drivers not to cross. Five people died as a result. 

However, on our return home, the whole area under the bridge had become a huge water park (and the bus had been removed). People were everywhere! Life goes on in Honduras....

Aaahhh...Sunsets at the beach. 

We visited the Garifuna (the indigenous people of the north coast--long ago they were used as slaves) town, Santa Fe, on the only rainy day of the week. Our new friends, Andres and Gaby, took us in their truck through the dirt/sand/washed out roads to this little town and we had a delightful (and surprisingly expensive) lunch. It was worth the visit!

The vegetation around this town was so rich!

Our new friends, Andres and Gaby, and their family (whom we fell in love with), Manuela (the golden lab) Samuel (the black lab), and their adopted stray dog, Nacha. They live in San Pedro Sula and we plan on visiting them. Especially as our Spanish improves...

I think everything was going right for this picture until Colin passed me the coconut.

The roads were constantly being bulldozed because of the rains. It was an interesting procedure. The main event of the day, really.

This American fellow has been living in Trujillo for a while now--he built this sailboat and we watched him take the wind and sail out over the glass sea. It was really beautiful.

We went downtown to Trujillo to pick up some souvenirs (and some cough syrup--I've been struggling with a cold for the past two weeks). While there, we explored a fort built by William Walker (from Tennessee!). He was some dude that wanted to take over Latin America...and got close enough before they executed him in Trujillo. Interesante. (Like the $5 cowgirl hat? Yeah...I think I'm getting cooler with age). 

Ok...so this is a little indulgent, but hey! How often do you get a shot of yourself silhouette-style?

Here's to a sweet marriage of 6+ years!

The drive home...two trucks racing to pass at the same time--both loaded down with people as you can see. We're really learning the ways of being a "defensive" driver.