A Gringa No Brasil

I almost never set an alarm. There’s rarely any reason to wake up earlier than my body wants me to. Plus, there’s plenty of morning noise in my barrio to keep me from sleeping in too late. I usually roll out of bed around 7:00 to the sound of my neighbor’s rooster (the one that starts crowing around 4:00am and doesn’t take a rest until 8) or ranchera music blaring down the street. Sometimes it’s a door-to-door vendor that wakes me – the woman selling baleadas or the farmer with his wheelbarrow of cabbage, onions, and green peppers – as they walk down the street announcing their wares every few paces.

Although I’ve never been one to rush in the mornings, my morning routine is still much more leisurely here than it ever was in the States. I take my time eating my cereal while reading my book (at the moment The Stranger by Albert Camus). After a chapter or two, I bring my empty bowl to kitchen. If there’s running water, I’ll take advantage and clean it right then, but more often than not, the water has already been shut off for the morning and won’t be back on again until midday or evening or maybe not until the next day. Who knows? I could clean it with water from the big bucket under the sink that I have for occasions such as these, but nah. It can wait until later. I finish getting ready – putting on clothes appropriate for going to work at the town hall, which usually consists of jeans and a shirt. If there’s a reason to dress more formally, I switch out the regular shirt for one with a collar (oooh fancy!). Only on very rare (or very hot) occasions do I wear a skirt or dress. It’s easier to avoid catcalls in jeans. Swipe on a little mascara, slide on some sandals, grab my laptop and my Nalgene, and I’m out the door. Usually around 8:30 or 9 – depends how long my book keeps me at breakfast.

My walk to the town hall is less than three blocks. Although I haven’t lived in this house long, I know all of the neighbors and faces along the way since my host family lives just two doors away from me. Several people are usually out running errands, cleaning their front stoops and sidewalks, or just chatting with other neighbors or vendors passing by. I wish them a good morning and continue on. The office isn’t very far, but it takes me longer to get there than I ever thought possible before coming to Honduras. I’ve learned to walk as Hondurans do, which is really more like sauntering or meandering. In the capital, I walk with a purpose so that I’m less of a target for anyone thinking of stealing a cell phone or some cash, but here in Cantarranas, there’s really no need. Walking quickly just makes you sweat more. What’s the hurry? Even when Hondurans know they’re late for something, they rarely rush. They don’t need to. Meetings never start at the appointed time, busses usually leave at least 15 minutes behind schedule, and no one stresses out if you’re the one holding things up. So I saunter my way down the cobblestone road, past the lazy dogs sleeping in the middle of the street, and around the corner to the town hall.

The town hall is one of the few two story buildings in Cantarranas. The majority of the offices are on the second floor, but mine is on the first. I share a room with the director (and sole employee) of the Women’s Municipal Office. The adjoining room is home to the Cantarranas Foundation (an NGO that is run by three guys), the Environmental Unit (one very large employee), and the Project Supervisor, who is almost never around since he spends most of his time in the field directing whatever projects the municipality has underway. The rest of the first floor is taken up mainly by the Salón Municipal, which is a big open area that they use for everything from town meetings to dances.

First order of business is typically checking my e-mail… and Facebook. I’m one of the lucky few volunteers that has free access to internet, although it’s not always the most reliable connection. The modem was installed on the second floor a couple of years ago, but when I arrived they drilled a hole through my ceiling and dropped a cable down for me. But a few months ago, the Cantarranas Foundation was created and moved in next to me so now we all share one cable. After putzing around on the internet for awhile, I pass the cable off to one of the Foundation guys and head upstairs to grab a cup of coffee and maybe chat with the second floor ladies. Except for the mayor, all of the employees on the second floor are women, and there’s usually some gossip being discussed amongst them. It’s not a very productive work environment, but it’s at least entertaining. I’ve mentioned in other posts that work is rather slow lately, but in the past, I usually used the mid-morning time to be a bit more productive – writing lesson plans, researching/writing grants, planning exercise classes, meeting with teachers, etc.

Noon to 1:00 is the lunch hour at the office. The men head home to their families where their wives or mothers have food waiting for them. The women order food from a restaurant nearby or bring something with them from home that they cooked before leaving that morning. I head home to cook something for myself, unless laziness overtakes me, in which case I order from the restaurant along with the other ladies. Cooking at my house is not usually a very complex affair. My kitchen appliances consist of a mini-fridge, a two-burner hot plate, and a toaster oven. But even when I had a decked out kitchen, I was never much for experimental or gourmet cooking. Meals here usually have some combo of the following ingredients: rice, potatoes, pasta, beans, eggs, cheese, and whatever fruits/vegetables I can find at the local market. I don’t buy or cook meat for myself since I don’t have much room to store it in my cube of a fridge, and the butcher shop is a bit sketchy looking. I’d rather stick to beans, eggs, and dairy for protein.

I finish up lunch around 1 or shortly thereafter. I should head back to the office, but unless I have a class to teach or a meeting, there’s no reason to hurry back. Instead, I’ve re-adopted the Spanish habit of naps after lunch. I love siestas. I return to the town hall or the high school around 2:00 or 2:30 for more work (whatever that may be), procrastinating on the internet, or just shooting the breeze with coworkers. 5:00 is quitting time so I pack up my things and saunter on home again. I’ve been trying to get into more of a regular workout schedule again so I use the time before dinner to go for a jog or practice some yoga in my living room. Showering afterwards varies depending on whether or not the water is on. If there is running water then I take a cold shower that shoots out of a tube – no shower head. If there’s no running water then I take a cold bucket bath – I keep a small barrel of water in the shower stall and use a smaller pail to scoop water out. Sometimes during the colder months (Nov-Jan), I prefer to heat up some water to bathe with, but usually it’s too much of a hassle to bother.

Once I’m clean, I prepare something for dinner. Since lunch is the big meal here, dinner is usually light – some cut up vegetables or fruit or a scrambled egg. If I’m staying in for the evening, I read my book or watch a movie on my laptop. Otherwise I head out around 7:30. There isn’t much to do in Cantarranas so going out usually consists of visiting my host family or chatting in the park with friends. Sometimes I’ll have a few people over for a movie night or we’ll all cook dinner together at someone’s house, but generally we just hang out in the park. At 9:30 or 10, I call it a night and walk home. There are definitely areas of town where you shouldn’t walk after 8pm, but I live close to the park on a well lit street in a safe neighborhood so there’s nothing to worry about.

I like to read a little bit before going to sleep, and then bedtime is generally around 10:30. Woah, what a crazy life I lead.