The Risk of Ruin or Loss

Dearest Rachel –

It seems that all too often, I wind up telling you about stuff that happened a day or so ago, rather than what’s happening to me right in the moment. It can’t be helped; it’s just easier for me to focus on writing first thing in the morning (or at the very least, once I get to the ‘office,’ and before I start in on other tasks). If something happens later in the day, especially after posting a letter to you already, I confess to a desire to save it for the morrow, as I’m never sure if I’ll wake up with something more to write you about, such as an interesting dream or other out-of-the-blue observation. As for the events of the previous day themselves, while I can throw down a couple of sentences outlining the events shortly after they happen, it’s usually just easier to wait and flesh things out later on, in the still of the following morning.

That’s how we get to a story like this one; there’s not much to tell you about today just yet, but something came up yesterday that I couldn’t bring myself to assemble and send you once I got home yesterday afternoon. This time around, it had to do with the trip in less than two weeks’ time (!) down to Honduras, to assist with the work our church is doing with an organization based down there (which was founded by one of our staff before she joined the team – and I’m sure there’s a story to that, but it’s not mine to tell, and even if it was, I don’t know enough about it to tell it well). Basically, it’s a means of presenting the gospel with ‘a hand up’; building water collection units (called “pilas”), running a medical clinic (and bringing supplies to restock it) and a school teaching various life skills above and beyond the basic three R’s.

I’ve been asked – and when prompted to help, it would be wrong not to answer – to work with the third of these units, although I expect that I’ll be doing some construction work as well on those days when I’m neither teaching nor assisting others in class. Yesterday was something of an orientation into what would possibly be required of us volunteers while we’re down there – including, thankfully, a basic lesson plan for me to expand on with regard to teaching spreadsheets and accounting. It’s definitely better than the “just watch what I’m doing, and do the same thing” approach that was all I could think of to work with.

Along with these sorts of preparations, there were included with the orientation some cautions regarding the potential for culture shock, and the possibility that we volunteers might say more than we should in the presence of our hosts. We tend to forget that America is, if not the most prosperous country in the world, one of the most prosperous – while Honduras is not, to put it mildly. Which should go without saying – after all, why would we be attempting to offer assistance to people who are already on our socioeconomic level? And why would they accept our help? – but the sheer gulf between ourselves in that regard might prompt the odd intemperate comment, which our leaders want to nip in the bud preemptively. We’ve been warned to expect dirt floors (which might be the hardest thing for me to accustom myself to; not so much because of the dirt itself, but the potential to turn into mud if it gets wet), plumbing issues (both in terms of tap water that can’t be ingested – more on that in a moment – and toilets that can’t even deal with paper) and a contradictory mix of crime and hospitality, depending on where you go (we’ve been advised to keep wallets and phones in our front pockets, and not take them out just anywhere – looks like I’ll need to physically write to you in a notebook and transcribe everything later on), and to do so without comment. It’s a reminder of my philosophy about how, when you travel, what’s ordinary life to someone else is strange to you, and vice versa – but with the added warning to reserve judgment, at least in public.

With that having been said, what struck me was that we were advised not to bring anything we were so attached to that we couldn’t afford to ruin or lose. Clothes will get sweaty and dirty, and while they have a laundry service at the hotel, everything is done by hand (the leaders, mostly female, address this note to the other females, as they’re likely to be the most unnerved about their unmentionables being in other’s hands). Considering we’re going to be down there for only a week, I have to admit to being perplexed at the idea – although I do expect to bring more clothes than I really need for the number of days, for the very reason that I expect to get one or another outfit dirty and will need to change during one day or another. They also advise bringing multiple toothbrushes, just in case one forgets, and rinses theirs in the tap, at which point it’s contaminated and should be disposed of. Jewelry, it should be understood, is to be left here in the states, so I’m not going to be wearing your ring for the duration; I may bring the shaker with your ashes, though, as no one is likely to consider that to be valuable other than myself.

Basically, anything and everything we bring is subject to the risk of ruin or loss, whether it’s lost luggage from the flight (which we’ve only ever had to deal with once in all our travels up until now – and I think we got the item back eventually), damage from use or dirt, or potential theft (although they stress that the hotel and the organization’s headquarters – where the school is – are perfectly safe), and we need to be willing and able to accept and roll with whatever may happen. I think they’re just bracing us for the worst-case scenarios, so that when things don’t all go according to plan – but not nearly as bad as we’ve been warned about – we won’t get all bent out of shape about it.

Certainly, I think this is doable; I even have a ‘second-best’ laptop I’ll be bringing with me (which would be the one you might remember us having to take to the local Best Buy in San Antonio when we were visiting your godmother just before the lockdowns went into effect – so you already know it’s suffered damage in the past). It’s not suitable for the latest AI applications by any means, but that’s more than I’ll be teaching the kids about, in any event. Indeed, I won’t even be teaching the kids about the speadsheet software I’m accustomed to, but a more rudimentary one common to the materials they have available. It’s like being accustomed to driving an SUV, but having to teach a driving class while behind the wheel of a compact car; it doesn’t feel right for me any more than it does for my students. However, as long as I stick to the basics of what the program is meant to do, that shouldn’t be so much of a concern.

So, yeah; that’s the briefing we’ve been given, suggesting that we roll with the punches and going into detail as to what those punches might be. Meanwhile, I need to flesh out my lesson plan in preparation, as well as getting a few vaccinations (which I should probably keep from Daniel, despite them being in longstanding use) and making sure I don’t overfill my suitcase (there are others bringing construction supplies that may need to be spread out amongst the rest of the checked luggage). There’s a lot to take into account, and while I prepare, I’d ask for you to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m – we’re – going to need it.