How to Build a Latrine, Honduras Style

By noon on Monday it was time to break for lunch. All the children head home from school for the day, and many of the families take siestas after lunch. So our team reunited at the schoolhouse for our lunch break and shared stories from our morning’s work. Everyone seemed in high spirits and was easing right into their roles of serving. Once we had eaten the groups mixed up a little and everyone headed back to work.

Claire, Beverly and Ken enjoying a sandwich.

I returned to my original worksite, hoping to get more hands on time building the latrine. The women were still at work, keeping the cement from drying out, but the guys had yet to return. So, seizing the opportunity, Dan and I jumped down in the hole and got to work filling gaps in the walls. For those of you who have never built a latrine before, it goes a little something like this…

First, dig a hole. Most of them are about 4 feet by 4 feet square, around 8 feet deep. The families are each responsible for digging their own hole before the HOI team arrives. Since they don’t have a lot of modern tools, most of the digging happens with a long stick with a spade fastened on the end. It typically takes about 5 days to dig, or so we’re told. The next step is to lay a base of cement blocks, in a square, level and straight. From there you keep building up until you get to the top. Wooden boards covered the top, then a layer of rebar and concrete was poured over that to make the lid. A long pipe was attached to an opening that leads up to the back of the toilet seat, typically uphill from the holding tank to help things get moving. An outhouse is built with a cement floor, the toilet seat, and walls around it. Voila! You have a latrine.

Moncho and I working on a latrine.

So we were down in the hole laying blocks and filling them in. Moncho came back and joined me in the hole, a little unsure about having a woman down there with him doing this kind of labor. But, after a few minutes of showing him I had experience with latrines and knew exactly what I was doing, he didn’t question it and we worked well together the rest of the afternoon. Since he didn’t speak any English and I don’t speak much Spanish, we learned to communicate any way that we knew how. Moncho and Dan actually developed a system of speaking to each other simply by whistling. We were all working well together as a team, and gaining quite a crowd of onlookers from atop the hole.

Before we knew it, it was time to head home for the day. Time seems to fly by in an instant when you’re in the village. Back at the ranch we had recruited another victim for our triathlon training group, and we took Claire out for her first workout. Kinsey had managed to talk her way into borrowing a bike from one of our guards, Adan. So Devin, Scott, Dan, Claire and I went for a little run, while Kinsey rode the bike.  We found our way down a side road not far from the ranch that led straight toward the mountains. It truly was an incredible night as we ran past pastures and homes, free range cows, horses, chickens and more, and set our sights on the mountainous horizon before us. The sky was beautiful and the air was clean and the feeling of freedom was overwhelming. It was a perfect end to the day.

We made it back just in time for dinner then had our own group time for evening devotionals. Celebrating Pentecost a little late, we read the story from Acts 2 and talked about the Holy Spirit coming and being present among the disciples, and how the Spirit had come among us as well. Each evening this week we got a special mail delivery of personal letters collected from friends and family back home. This has been a highlight of each day, and reminds me that I carry so many people with me in my heart during this trip. Many of the letters I have received have been from various church members sharing meaningful scripture verses, words of encouragement and inspiration. It is truly touching to know that my church continues to pray for me and our team as we attempt to do God’s work, and I can’t wait to return to share a part of Honduras with each of them.

Back to El Rodeo

Monday morning. This was the day we had all been waiting for. Our team was heading to our adopted village of El Rodeo and we would begin our work with the community. For those of us returning from last October, I’m sure I can speak for everyone when I say we were very anxious and perhaps a little nervous. Would they remember us? Would this year live up to our expectations compared to how great it was last year? What was in store for us this week as we gathered with those special people we had grown to love and work side by side with them at their homes? For those who were first timers on this trip, I imagine their nerves were of a similar nature. How will we connect with people we can barely communicate with? What kind of work will be expected? Is this week really going to be as amazing as everyone keeps telling us it will be?

As the Range Rovers pulled up near the schoolhouse, the community had already gathered together and was waiting to welcome us back to the village. Instantly we recognized faces and had happy reunions with the individuals we had especially bonded with before. Hugs were given all around and it was truly a joy to have such a warm embrace from the matriarchs of the community and to be able to greet one another by name. Ramone, also called Moncho (who seems to be the president of the community), began introductions and greetings on behalf of the village and led the group in singing some praise songs for us. We returned the greetings and shared our welcome in Spanish as we expressed our gratefulness to be back among them.

Carlos, Roberto and Ramone welcome us to the village.

Marta and the kindergarten come out to greet us.

From there it was time to get to work. Beverly, Kinsey and Scott headed up to the schoolhouse with the children to teach VBS. We were recycling the theme of Pandamania and today’s lesson was “God made you.” The rest of our team was divided into three different worksites to begin building latrines. Devin, being an expert in construction, felt confident heading off on his own to join the family working on their latrine. Dan, Claire, Ken and I headed down the opposite direction toward more houses.

When we arrived at the first house, we quickly realized our first task. The hole for the latrine was in the back of the house, and there were about 200 cement blocks stacked up outside the fence in front of the house. So move those blocks we did. Each one weighed at least 25 pounds, more if they were wet, so I was grateful we were moving them downhill. My trainer would’ve been proud I’d figured out how to get an upper body workout in this week. With four or more of us carrying two blocks apiece, the project didn’t take all that long. But 200 blocks still required several trips back and forth, and the blocks definitely got heavier the more trips we took. As the sweat poured down our brows and the sun beat down our backs, it felt good to be doing hard work and helping out the best we could.

Claire in front of all the blocks we just moved.

Once that big task was complete, Dan and Claire headed off toward an additional house to work on another site, and Ken and I worked on mixing cement. After a few moments, Enhenio and Ramone got to work on putting down the base layer of the latrine. This is where Ken and I got to wait. The hard part about mission trips like these is the “hurry up and wait.” There will be moments of intense physical labor and getting a great rhythm to your work, and then suddenly there is nothing to do while the two experts tackle the details. The exciting part is seeing the villagers working so intensely and seeming proud of the chance to make improvements to their home. It can be challenging to think that we can come in with fancier tools and more knowledge on making things go quicker and smoother, but here you do things the Honduran way, which sometimes can be slow and simple. But it is not our job to come in and tell them that our way is better; it is our job to come in and work with them side by side.

Making a cement volcano for the latrine.

So Ken and I enjoyed some time getting to know one another better while the other guys had some intense conversations about the best way to lay the base layers. I’m not sure exactly what was being said or who was in charge, since I understood very few of the words being said. But I knew that once the process got started there would be plenty to do. Ken and I shared stories back and forth, and I showed him the curious shame plants; fern-like plants that curl up and shrivel at the slightest touch. There were moments where we didn’t even say anything, but just enjoyed the time together, fellowshipping with our Honduran family using smiles and gestures and laughter.

“I castration pig.”

Sunday afternoon we finally arrived at the ranch. It was great to hear we would be in the old dorms, the ones with the hammocks on the porch and the view of the cross in front of the mountains. After unpacking and fueling up with lunch, our beloved Marta, the HOI team leader, promised us a special treat, and we loaded up the Range Rovers again and headed to find a waterfall.

Not a bad view from the dorms.

Having just read the ranch rules we were reminded that there was absolutely no swimming in the waterfall. Yet when we arrived Marta was the first to jump in and start splashing around, encouraging others to join. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to cool off, we all slowly started easing our way into the icy cold mountain water in our clothes. Immediately upon entering you could feel the immense power of the rushing water flowing down and over the rocks. If you got directly downstream of where the water cascaded over the highest drop, it would sweep you off your feet and down the river. It was thrilling to feel that much power surrounding you, and an absolutely beautiful reminder of God’s great creation. Everyone climbed around the surrounding rocks, swam and waded in the water, and just enjoyed cooling off. It was a highpoint to everyone’s day.

 

When we returned to the ranch, the two vets who had traveled with us were joining another group of 13 others who had already served a week. Apparently Marta had decided she was spending the week with them, so she could learn how to castrate bulls.  She had studied agriculture and wanted some practice with the animals. Every time I have been to HOI before, Marta has been my team leader, so the thought of not having her made me sad. No one else could be as great as Marta, who affectionately calls us all her babies, and has several other “Marti-isms” that make us laugh and fall in love with her even more. Her English is pretty good, which is why she serves so well as a translator, but sometimes her phrases come out with her own special language and charm. She told us about wanting to go with the vets this week for practice, and proudly proclaimed, “I castration pig!”

Between our SUMC group and the vets, we decided it was time for a little friendly competition with a round of volleyball. Winners get Marta for the week. Yet as we started to play, not only did we not break up into “us” vs. “them,” we mixed up our groups on each team, and even added a few of the locals from the ranch who wanted to play. Throughout the game, walls began to be broken down. The different groups started learning each other’s names and strengths and personalities. No matter what your skill level (since my volleyball skills are about a 0), everyone was supportive and encouraging and cheered each other on. Those who weren’t playing spent time in fellowship with one another, and Ken and a vet student named Rhett shared their faith stories back and forth. After several games of play, we gathered for dinner, and then both groups joined together for an evening devotional.

Our original plan was to gather as our own SUMC group each night to share time as a team, decompress from the day, and allow each person to lead a devotional. It was my planned night, but just like the best laid plans, something else seemed to feel more appropriate. As dinner was finishing up, the group leader from the other team invited us to join them. Having just spent the afternoon bonding at the waterfall and building a sense of community over a simple game of volleyball, it only felt right to join in their evening prayer time. Everyone shared their favorite moments from the day, and the majority talked about the game, how it had brought us together, once strangers, now joined together, breaking down barriers and opening new doors. It was an evening for building relationships, expanding our understanding of the body of Christ, and knowing that even more love and community was soon to be found.

Are You An Evangelist?

Sunday morning we arose feeling refreshed and well rested, and ready to hit the road to the Agalta Valley where we would be staying. At breakfast I had planned to share a devotional with the group, being Sunday morning and all, and my pastoral habits die hard. Glenn saw me with my Bible at the table, and I’m not sure if he knew I was a pastor or not, but he asked me, “Are you going to serve as our evangelist for the week?” I’m sure gonna try, in whatever form that may take. I’m hoping we all will.

After breakfast we explored Juticalpa (it turned out the devotional would have to wait) and walked through town and to the marketplace. Jeff and Glenn found a couple of veterinarian offices and posed for pictures along the way. While most American vet signs have some form of cat and dog in their logo, these Honduran vet signs had dogs and cows, appropriately enough.

Turning down the next road we saw a man outside painting the walls of his shop a bright fuchsia color. Claire happened to be wearing a shirt almost the exact same color, so she stopped to take a picture with the matching walls. While posing with the painter we discovered he had lived in the States for some time, including Marietta for a year. Even more exciting was discovering that inside the bright walls was a bike shop. Kinsey couldn’t resist buying some neon colored spoke beads for her kids; the same ones we had as kids in the 80’s. Next we stopped by a local fruit stand and sampled some fresh avocado and bought supplies for guacamole later.

As we came into the square, a local news reporter caught our attention and arranged an interview with Kinsey. Apparently a group of gringos sticks out pretty well, and no matter how hard we tried, we were not blending in. The reporter asked Kinsey numerous questions about what our group was doing down in Honduras and what we thought about the country. “Are you an evangelist?” he asked. “Si.” (Funny, it was the second time I’d heard that question today.) She handled herself pretty well; especially considering the reporter was holding his camera about six inches away from her face. She talked about our mission here to help out in the villages by building latrines and teaching VBS. He closed his interview with these words, “the most important thing is sharing the love of God. Can you do it?” She assured him we could. We’ll be looking for a TV later in the week to see our evangelistic star on the news.

From there we crossed the street to visit the church, where people were gathering for Sunday services. We discovered a brilliant new fundraising campaign by watching the children outside the church steps, selling orders of worship for the church service. On one side of the entrance to the church was a table piled high with Bibles and crosses of all shapes, colors and sizes, for sale of course. On the other side of the entrance was a table covered with food. It was interesting to consider this scenario, and I imagined Jesus turning over tables, complaining about his temple being made into a marketplace. Singing broke forth from inside the church and you could tell services were beginning as we were herded toward the vehicles for our next stop.

After a quick shopping trip at the market, we were loaded up and ready to finish our journey to Rancho el Paraiso where we would spend the remainder of the week.

At one point someone made this remark: “The rides will become one of your favorite parts of this trip.” Each day consists of several hours’ worth of rides in the Range Rovers and becomes a significant part of the trip. There’s plenty of time for conversation of every flavor, from serious to silly to downright weird. You bond together as a team over the lack of personal space as you’re packed in like sardines amongst your bags and supplies. As you bump along the choppy road there are occasional unison groans as everyone gets tossed in the air flying over a pothole. Trail mix and gum are shared liberally as we flinch at the cold rainwater dripping through the ceiling. It’s an experience like no other, but one you simply would not trade for the world.

It Feels Like Home

This trip marks my third year serving in Honduras and my fifth international mission trip. What struck me today was how easily I slipped right back into the culture and felt completely at home. For the first part of the trip I couldn’t find my camera, having buried it so far down in my bag. Yet I wasn’t really concerned, knowing plenty of others were capturing those priceless moments. It was actually quite liberating, not to feel like I had to capture every scene on film (well, memory stick), that the scenery was already familiar, and I didn’t have to feel like a tourist. I could just be, and enjoy.

But it has also been thrilling to have half of our team here as first timers, first time on a mission trip and first time in Honduras. Things that have become ordinary are brought to life again as seen by new eyes, and I once again take in the wonder and amazement of it all.

One of my greatest joys is to see members of my church who live so selflessly that giving and serving others is second nature. Dan and Scott are priority flyers and had been upgraded to first class seats. Since they’re so used to flying in style, they offered to switch with Beverly and Ken, who had never had the experience. Beverly and Ken were so overwhelmed at the extravagant outpouring of love, and it gave them a taste of what we hope many others will feel this week.

When you land in Tegucigalpa and step off the plane, you’re instantly surrounded by mountains and the beauty of the country. Typically we would’ve loaded up immediately on the Range Rovers and headed toward Juticalpa. This year we were picking up two additional passengers, veterinarians who were catching a ride to the ranch to join another work team. We quickly found Glenn, a warm hearted, easygoing vet from Louisiana. He met up with our team from SUMC and instantly became a part of the group. It took a little longer to find Jeff, who was coming all the way from Oklahoma and had come in on a separate flight.

Marta, our HOI leader, headed back to check on him, and realized he was caught up in customs, trying to declare whatever medical instruments or antibiotics a vet would travel with. To kill a little time, the rest of us headed to the airport food court to grab some lunch. Mission trips are funny like that. The first rule is to be flexible, and to understand that other countries aren’t quite on the strict and hurried schedules as Americans. Instead of getting bent out of shape or worried about how much later we would arrive at the hotel, everyone graciously sat down to eat Honduran Big Macs and pizza. It was actually a great chance to reunite with our drivers from last year, Nelson and Ubaldo, and bond with Glenn the vet. Once we had finished eating, a young teenager approached our table asking for leftovers, and gladly ate the remaining fries he was handed.

Kinsey and Scott with our new vet friends Glenn and Jeff.

It was this teenager, and perhaps the mute woman begging as we loaded our bags, who gave the new members in our group their first wake up call. Upon reflecting with them later, every single one of them talked about the poverty. You hear about it, read about it, see it on TV, but until you come down to a developing nation like this, it just doesn’t quite hit you. In their words, there’s no way to prepare for seeing this kind of poverty until it’s staring you in the face. Driving through town there were tiny mud houses without doors, dozens of people piled in the back of pickup trucks, and people digging through trash on the side of the road. As we drove over rivers, people were washing their trucks in the same stream where children swam and played nearby. It was probably the same river from which some families drew drinking water.

Stopping along the way for a bathroom break or a snack, we were reminded of a few rules to get us through the week safely and stay respectful of the people of Honduras. First and foremost, don’t drink the water, including no drinks with ice, and brushing your teeth with bottled water. The fun rule to remember is not to flush your toilet paper. The plumbing here just can’t handle it. Instead of dropping your paper once you’re done, you hang onto it, wad it up, and save it for later. Just kidding. But you do hang onto it, wad it up, and toss it in the wastebasket next to you. Another good lesson is learning that the C on the shower handle does not stand for “cold,” but rather “caliente.”

All of this and it’s only day one. By Saturday evening we enjoyed our first authentic meal at the hotel in Tegucigalpa…chicken, rice, tortillas and some root vegetables. Dan shared a devotional about finding hope when your hands are tied. Reading from John 19:26-27, even when Jesus is tied to the cross, he still has the compassion and selflessness to care for others. He assigns his beloved disciple to care for his mother, and his mother to care for her new son. When your hands are tied…when you feel like there is nothing you can do, there is always hope, there is always a way to serve. Even when the poverty surrounding us feels like it is overwhelming and unfair and there is nothing we can do to make a dent in the situation, there is always hope. Hands tied, Jesus cares for those he loved most the best way he knew how. Let us follow his great example this week.

Los Ochos Loco

Saturday morning the “crazy eight” gathered at SUMC to load up the bus and get this party started. It felt like an eternity waiting for this day to arrive since our team had already spent so much time together preparing for the trip, bonding and anticipating all we would experience in Honduras. After prep days for VBS, a car wash fundraiser, a packing party and more, it was a great feeling to know that before we even set foot on a plane, we were already a team united to serving God and loving the villages of Ocital and El Rodeo. What lies in store for this crew of crazy eight? God only knows, and that’s the most exciting part.

‘Twas the Night Before Honduras

Can’t wait to get back here!

‘Twas the night before Honduras and all through the ‘Ville,

missionaries took anti-malaria meds so they wouldn’t get ill.

The flip flops were packed in the duffel bags with care,

ready to be placed on tiny feet so children won’t walk bare.

The team members were nestled all snug in their beds,

while visions of cement volcanoes mixed in their heads.

Except the one who won’t sleep ’til her packing is done;

because she writes silly poems as procrastination.

As we prepare to be God’s servants this week,

there’s one more person we all humbly seek.

Come Holy Spirit, like a breath or a fire,

rain grace and love upon us, that’s all we desire.

Rain on Oscar, on Julia, on Beverly and Ken.

Fill Daniel, fill Claire, fill Kinsey and Devin.

From Snellville to Tegucigalpa, to Agalta Valley to El Rodeo,

this team’s going to be rowdy! We are SO ready. Let’s GO!