Excerpts

"Last night the rain was hitting the metal roof with such force and consistency that concentrating on anything was nearly impossible. I was frustrated, since a million thoughts and feelings vied for my attention. President among them, I suppose, was relief. There is certainly something different about the home; something better. Visibly, there are additional buildings and amenities, spacious dormitories and running water. What is the opposite of visible? Not invisible. Maybe spiritual. There are also spiritual changes, which were the more obvious, though harder to describe. The last two times I arrived at the home, merely pulling onto the compound brought me to tears. I felt as though something inside me was crushed simply by being there. Comparatively, I walked around yesterday feeling open and light-hearted. I know it seems ridiculous to say that within twenty four hours I have declared the home spiritually sound or acceptable. I am aware that I may have been responding more to the material than the transcendent. I'm not sure if I believe in spiritual warfare, in good and evil, in positive and negative energies. But if things can be put so simply, seven years ago the home was the latter, and is now the former. "

"Keith, of course, has made an incredible impression on the children. I envy his self-confidence. He opens himself up to people, jumps into situations, seemingly without a thought of rejection or dismissal, which I am often plagued by. He had everyone cracking up. It is hard to describe what he does! He's just himself. He draws out the goofy in everyone."

"I forgot why I was in love with Central America. Everyone's lives ripple together in aural excess; a constant shuffle of daily tasks. Food being made, clothes being washed, homes being built, and a boisterous crew carrying out the tasks. To my one side, a man plays his guitar with his eyes shut. Across the mountain you hear the steady beat of someone's radio. Mostercycles constantly gear up to make it home on the steep hills. The bus to Teguc honks its arrival. The mountains are buzzing with life."

"I notice in my culture, my faith tradition, my profession, this tendency towards polar viewing. As I said, good and evil, positive and negative, etc. You get better or you get worse. There are things you want, and things you want to avoid. So I have been approaching my experience here through this lens. "

"Yesterday the boys took us on a tour of the grounds. They pointed out all the different fruit growing near the home - mangos, bananas, pomegranates, lemons and limes, along with a few fruits foreign to us. Tracking through the mud, they showed us the chickens and goats and, when we came across it, the chicken and goat poo. A very informative experience. Today, the girls gave me a tour. We followed the same path, but this time we stopped to look at all the pretty flowers and to smile at the Mama goat and her kid. Then they spent the rest of the time showing me how to clean the mud off my shoes. First by scraping it with a piece of broken tile from the garbage pile, then by walking through the water that collects on top of the cement slab, then by scuffing through the grass until you reach the driveway. The children seem very accustomed to foreign guests, but at the same time, secure in their home. They take ownership and show pride, which we look for as a sign of health in foster homes. The children are eager to please, and often bring us gifts of colored pages torn from coloring books or distribute mangos held in the folds of their shirts. Today I was walking around holding a flower boquet of mostly leaves with little purple flowers on the top end and the roots still clinging tight to some dirt on the bottom. In my other hand I balanced three mangos."

"I love that every place on earth shares in common certain things, while at the same time, creating something completely new and unique. There is something that unites the market in Harrisburg to those in Chiang Mai and Tegucigalpa. Something common. Something human. Yet all my sences alert me to the differences as well. Studies show that the inhabitants of a given city hold in common a certain pace of life, as measured in the pace of their steps and sylables. I feel a difference but I struggle to name it. Perhaps it is this, the literal pace of life. It's a personality and a life unto itself."

"The redemption of (the children's home). Those dirty bathrooms are now the center for cleaning and the bedrooms where further molestation happened is now where things go to be mended and fixed. The home where they starved is now a huge kitchen. I think (the home) is where my faith began to topple. It is fitting that it would be the location of my faith restored."

"Nothing is hopeless. We must hope for everything"

"Sitting inside the guest house, there is a constant click, click, click of the metal roof adjusting to the change in temperature. From cool to warm, and warm to hot, and hot to hotter, and back again. While the children are at school, I enjoy sitting on the balcony looking down on the red roof of (the home). Swallowed by the green mountains of Honduras, it looks like a berry on a Christmas wreath. Birds call out their songs, more eclectic than back home. Somewhere a donkey sounds off like a train horn. I hover above it all, safe and detached. In general I feel I've moved from active participation to lofty reflection. Academia."

"(The children's home) is a very different place, but why? What made it different? Money ? is that all it takes? The new care giver? Is all anything needs is one competent person? I think most people with the competence and common sense to bring about the changes I have seen at (this children's home) have the common sense to avoid those jobs. Luckily religion tells people, particularly women, to abandon their common sense.

... And how different is it, really? The kids are politer, its clearner, there's order. Things that look really nice to me! But is it white wash?"

"The neighbors horse gave birth last night. The calf is pretty cool, but what really drew a crowd was the placenta left on the other side of the fence."

"Night and day. In the morning, I sit out on the porch and listen to the world of people. The distant mountains look little different from clouds, while the closer mountains shimmer with dancing leaves. At night, chiors of insects wake up, while the world of man and woman says its goodnight in song, amplified by some church somewhere. The music is so loud that their prayers may literally reach heaven, or at last their neighbors. I'm not sure which is their intention. Now, the closer mountains are but shadow, and the further mountains shimmer with the dancing lights of Teguc."