Soft Americans

Dearest Rachel –

This has been quite the week, honey. Given the hardscrabble life that is common among Hondurans, it’s understandable that they would consider us Americans ‘soft’ in comparison, even if they would never say so to our faces save perhaps in jest, like guys do among themselves. On the subject of guys, I’m particularly attuned to the accusation of softness, as my major assignments are with education and the office operations, as opposed to being out there regularly in the neighborhood, pouring concrete for pilas…

Although, on that subject, I should mention that the local team was working on the clinic construction this past Thursday night until at least eight in the evening, and possibly later; we visitors had eaten dinner at the campus and left for the hotel while they continued welding, wiring, hammering and piping into the night. Not only that, but we were returning to the campus for dinner after a little less that an hour’s worth of time at the hotel freshening up for the meal, all while they continued to work. Let’s face it, this makes even our toughest team members seem soft and lazy in comparison.

Now, it’s entirely possible that the crew working on building the clinic are paid workers, contracted for their services the entire time, while we’re here on a volunteer basis. We aren’t compelled by pecuniary means to do what we do here; on the contrary, many of us paid out of pocket for the opportunity to be here and do whatever it is we’re called upon to do, while others are here on support from those back home. Which is understandable, but still doesn’t make the comparison look good. Bear in mind the pay ladled out to the coffee pickers as a baseline – the equivalent of ten dollars a day for a good, strong worker – and compare that to the mandatory minimum hourly wage in the States. Would what these guys work for (even though it’s probably considerably more than the coffee-picking benchmark) be enough to motivate us to work deep into the night on a construction project like this?

I submit that – without the divine internal compulsion to offer both physical and spiritual help to this area – we would not be so willing as all that.

It’s not just the amount, intensity and duration of the physical labor down here (and for what we would consider to be minimal recompense) that we’re unaccustomed to. This has been quite the week for our group, even as small as it is in comparison to the other such trips I’ve been on, to fall ill from one thing or another. Two of us have dealt with head colds – one at the beginning of the trip, and another right near the end – and at least one was incapacitated specifically by what seems geographically and historically incorrect to refer to as “Montezuma’s revenge,” but it’s a name that is instantly (and vividly) recognized for what it is. I, too, may have suffered from a touch of it myself when I decided not to bother with yesterday’s “adventure,” lest I suffer from a particularly unfortunate misadventure involving my digestive tract.

Meanwhile, the locals here don’t seem fazed by the quality of the water down here. In fact – and I don’t know if they’re joking with us about this or not – but those who have been to the States insist that they get sick from eating our food and drinking our water. Given the preservatives and additives we put in food in the States, the former assertion is actually mildly plausible, but what could be in our water that would provoke such a reaction? Or is it just that when it’s not what they’re used to, their body just doesn’t know how to deal with it? Or is it just the sheer volume of what we have to offer that overloads them to the point of getting sick?

Either way, it feels like we have things so easy in comparison to them.

Now, I don’t want to minimize the efforts put into the past week, especially by the guys on the construction teams. These guys worked hard in the blazing sun and the pouring rain, and they are entitled to a lot of credit for that. And the others in the education division had to come up with curricula that both catches the attention and builds the knowledge of their students (and I can only hope I managed to live up to that, myself). But now, at the end of the week, all of us get to go back home to the many creature comforts that are part and parcel of being Americans.

Soft Americans.

So, if you would be willing to keep an eye on anyone these days, apart from your dear husband, honey, maybe it would be best directed to the folks down here. They certainly need all the well wishes they can get.