Honduras, farewell for now.

My lovely and faithful blog audience I would like to thank you for reading and keeping up with my blog throughout the year, you followed the highs and lows of my year, and it's always nice to see that people are actually reading this blog, and returning to it on a weekly basis, even though my blogs most definitely have not been that regular! So as a last blog I thought I would just share with you guys a little of what I've learned.

But before I do this, I would like to again (I say again because I have said this before, but it was a year ago, and well, I'd like to say it again) say thank you to all the people who helped me out with my fundraising, and I mean every aspect of my fundraising. From the people who donated money to the people who gave me lifts to school with a car full of home baking, the people who organised events for me to the people who spread the word. Many people did many awesome things and THANK YOU. Because without the help from you, I wouldn't have been able to come out here for a year, and have an amazing and (slightly clichéd I know but..) life changing experience, in the fantastic country that is Honduras. I say life changing because it is. When you move to a country on the other side of the world at age 17, you're going to come back a little different. I experienced things I had never encountered before and deal with situations that left me miles outside my comfort zone. I've had ok days, bad days, terrible days and then days that make you want to cry, I've been sick, I've been so tired that I feel that I can't go on, I've had all of my valuable possessions stolen but never once did I want to go home, because once that bad/terrible/made you cry day is over (and after a good old cry), another begins and it has a world of possibilities in it. Throughout this year, I've had so many good days, so many brilliant days, that it puts your ok/bad/terrible/crying days into perspective. And you move on from those days, you don't let it spoil those days that are to come and you certainly don't let it spoil those wonderful days that you've had and the awesome memories you've made. 

When I first decided to go and live in Honduras for a year people asked me 'Why?' apart from the volunteering placement and the overriding feeling I had to help people, I was never really sure of the answer. I could never put my finger on why I wanted to go and live in a small country practically nobody had heard of, that has the highest murder rate in the world, is very dangerous and anyone that had heard of it didn't have anything good to say about it. And I suppose I can answer it now, it was for the challenge. I wasn't ready to go to University. And I wanted to do something that would challenge me, something that I had never done before, somewhere somewhat obscure that I hadn't really heard of and be able to learn and help other people learn. And after a year, of living, learning and loving it. I feel that I have done the right thing. I feel that I have completed my challenge.

So what have I actually learned this year. To say 'a lot' would be an understatement. I've learned (as the Scots so eloquently put it) 'hunners'. I now have a pretty decent grasp of Spanish, a little more work on some verb conjugations and I could potentially be fluent, I am an ace mosquito killer, I can sew and make clothes, I am advanced Scuba Diver, I've become an english teacher and a nanny, I can now barter with even the toughest of traders, I know when someones trying to rip me off, I know that crying can be a good thing, and that laughing is the best cure, I can wake up at any hour and be ready to work (no matter how little sleep I've had), I can travel around Central America without getting (that) lost, I have learned how to save as much money as possible without starving, I know that wherever you go in Honduras baleadas are the safest bet if you don't want to be sitting on the toilet for the next week, I can sing the national anthem and tell you why there are 5 stars on the Honduran flag, I learned to live independently without mum, dad or grandparents to tidy up after me, I can now make the dirtiest of white shirts gleaming white, I can almost count to 10 in Welsh. 

On a more serious note, this year has taught me a lot, I've learned a lot about myself, about my limits, what I can achieve and that I don't give up easily. My motto as a small child was always 'I do it self' and I suppose that this has been relevant this year, but I also learned that asking for help isn't always a bad thing and sometimes you just need that extra hand. I learned a lot about a new culture and fell in love with it, and the people, their personalities and histories, I've learned, firsthand, how people live in poverty, and get by. I've learned that education is key, education is the way forward and if you can promote and help with education wherever you go, be it, at home, on holiday, in your job or as a volunteer, you're doing a good job. 

If I've changed, looking back at myself at the beginning of the year, it's that I've become more confident, more independent and more mature, more adventurous, I feel that I can do anything if I set my mind to it, as some people say 'the world is my oyster'. I try everything that's thrown at me, be it to draw a 6ft spongebob or an interesting local delicacy. 

Even though I've been up for trying new things I still have a serious aversion to eggs, which unfortunately are abundant in this country, and I still hate mushrooms (they're not as popular..). I've fallen in love with the food here, with various combinations of refried beans, torillas, avocado, chicken, plantain, rice. Sounds simple, but nothing can beat a plate of Honduran fried chicken with tajadas, cabbage and yellow sauce (mixture of mayo and mustard..) or a baleada with avocado. 

I'll be missing a lot of things from here, food included, you just can't get fried chicken like that in Scotland. I'll miss the climate, where in the wet season it rains for an hour every day at 4pm, in the summer it reaches over 40 degrees, and the winter where the coldest it gets is 20 degrees, that I can jump on the bus and go away for a weekend of diving in the Caribbean, the music - who doesn't love the mixture of reggae and country music that blasts from the houses and buses at all times of the day, the people that you meet along the road, some of them friends for life, the little patches of paradise that you plan to come back to, the people I've been working alongside that couldn't be more welcoming and helpful, but most of all, I'll miss the children I've been looking after. They have a place in my heart and always will. When you spend 8 hours or more a day with the kids, you learn so much about them, you can't help but grow attached and start to love them. They make me laugh everyday, every hour, sometimes every minute. Even when they misbehave you can't help but be reminded of things that you did as a child. You become part of your life and them part of yours. So when I leave Miqueas 6.8 tomorrow morning for the last time, you can bet I will be crying. But as everything, things must come to an end and there are other volunteers ready to move into Miqueas to start their year. 

But I will be looking forward to coming home. It's been a year after all, and I suppose my family would want to see me. And, of course, I wouldn't mind seeing them too. And my friends. I have my homecoming meal all planned out (scallops, sirloin and New York cheesecake), and a list of things I want to do; having a bath, drinking water from the tap, eat dad's food, wear a wooly hat (without overheating and dying, although I've been hearing that home is pretty hot right now, just my luck that it will be back to normal as soon as I land in Glasgow!), eating bacon, having a warm shower and cycling my bike. Just simple things that I haven't done since I left home. 

So Honduras, farewell for now, I will be back. You've been a blast, and definitely nothing like I thought the 'murder capital of the world' would be. 

Scotland, I'm coming home, be prepared. I'll be seeing you soon, in the rain. 

Volcano boarding! 

Volunteer chill time..

A slice of paradise

Alex and Cynthia

Another slice of paradise..

A day at the beach.

Time for some diving

Going to the mountains.

Butterfly catching!

Watermelon on the beach

Angelito

Wilma

Alejandro and Wilma

Jessler

Wilma

High fives with Nathan

18th Birthday

Let's jump off rocks! 

Leaving..

Partners..

For my second last blog in Honduras I thought I would say something about the person who I've lived and worked with for my (almost) 12 months here.

I met Mali, my Project Trust partner, for the first time in October 2011 for the selection week of project trust, we spoke about 4 times. We met again in July 2012, one week before we flew out to Honduras. I think we spoke 4 more times. My first impression of her was that she was outgoing and well, loud. I had a few reservations, as anyone would, about going to a foreign country and living with someone, who you have spoken  to a grand total of 8 times and who you barely know, for 12 months. So we met a Heathrow Airport on the 5th of August ready to fly out into the unknown. Again we didn't really talk that much. We spent a lot of the time talking to the other volunteers and just chattering excitedly to anyone that would listen about out excitement. It really was exciting.

As we arrived at our project in Trinidad, Santa Barbara and moved into our carboard box sized home, unpacked our things and surveyed our new home, I think we both realised that things were gonna be just fine. We seemed to click, had similar interests, humour, music taste (there are a few differences, artists that it's best not to mention/play..), we both LOVED food, and helped each other get through the first tough weeks without bacon. After a few days all my reservations had gone. And my first impressions, well, yes Mali is outgoing, but not loud. She's happy. And fun. And excitable. And hilarious.

Of all my friends and family, she's the person that knows me best, she knows when I'm sad (even if I'm trying to hide it) and she knows how to cheer me up. She knows when to leave me alone, and when I'm lonely. She's helped me through this year, through the go on ups and the downs. She kept me going when I wanted to give up and made me laugh when I've wanted to cry.

We've had our moments, you can't live with someone in such an intense way without disagreeing on some things. She hates it when I leave the bathroom floor wet after a shower, I hate it when she squeezes the toothpaste from the middle. But we've managed to work through it. As cheesy as it sounds, I think it's made our relationship stronger.

We've jumped, laughed, cried, skipped, ran and crawled our way through this year in Honduras. We've climbed volcanoes together, jumped off bridges, gone to the bottom of the ocean and dressed up as donkeys. And we made it out alive.

So, Mali, this is for you. And thanks for an awesome year.

An armed guard to the fair, at least we won't be pickpocketed....

It's been a busy month a Miqueas, I was back from my holiday and straight into the swing of things. This time although it was a little different. We had two volunteer groups visiting for two weeks. One from Atlanta, Georgia and the other from NYC. They were here to help out with various small projects that had been organised for them and to spend some time with the kids. The place was crazy. With twenty 16-24 year olds from New York and 6 teenage girls from Atlanta to keep an eye on, it was a busy time.

We spent the most time with the NYC kids (I probably shouldn't say kids cause most of them were a few years older than me and significantly taller.. What do they put in the water over there?!) hanging out, doing activities with the kids, late night swimming in their hotel pool, talking in accents, arguing -  the stupidity of them taking the letter 'u' out of words, that cookies are actually biscuits, that pants are actually the things that go under your trousers, that 'garbage' is in fact 'rubbish', that 'alu-min-um' is actually 'al-u-min-ium' and that rugby is definitely better than american football (a valid point argued by mali, 'Why is it football when they use their hands...?!'), and we spent time with them in Church, watching as they sang, danced and prayed with endless energy.

We also visited a state orphanage.  Now that was an experience. There were maybe 80 children there. All from the ages of 1 month to 12 years. All abandoned, orphaned or taken away from their parents. The orphanage is over populated and  understaffed. And although the nannies that work there do their best, they simply cannot look after the all children and do not have the healthcare support to keep these kids healthy. They children have open sores all over their bodies, head lice are endemic and some have other, more serious health problems that cannot be properly treated. Most of their meals are just rice and so a lot of the children have a bloated look about them at all times.

The orphanage is very sparse, with little furnishings and furniture. But over the past few years a group called Orphan Helpers has started to work in Honduras. Helping to improve life and the facilities in the state orphanages here. And according to Melody (our host here and one of the directors of Miqueas 6.8) they have been able to improve standards greatly, the kids have bed covers, the walls are painted, they get a few meals of variation, the options for healthcare have improved. This being the case, I would hate to see the orphanage the way it was before Orphan Helpers stepped in. They seem to really be working hard to improve the conditions of the orphans there and also to help the overworked nannies. It was an eye opener. And one I won't forget.

I also went to the fair. Under armed guard.. It's not often you can say that you were escorted under armed guard to Burger King, and then onwards to the fair. Well, it happened. The National Transport police have a connection with Miqueas and they like to do nice things with the kids from time to time. So this time, it was a trip to the annual San Pedro Sula fair. The bus arrived in the morning with a few police officers carrying deadly looking BIG guns and a few other pretty deadly small guns. After loading all the kids on the bus (every child from Miqueas minus the 15 toddlers) made a large group to keep an eye on. But with 6 adults and so far 2 armed police officers, I was sure we'd be fine. No one was gonna mess with us. We arrived at Burger King, and the kids went stright for the play area. The man (BIG boss police guy) who had organised this had been called into a meeting and unfortunately couldn't come, and he was the one bringing the food, so hence the reason we ended up at Burger King. After clogging up my arteries with some sort of burger king burger with fries and the biggest cup of soda I've ever seen, we left this wonderful fast food establishment and by this time I was blue from the air con inside and needed some serious time warming up outside (I'm going to miss being able to go outside to warm up...). We headed off, to the fair! With all our groups sorted out, and everyone knowing who's hand to hold at all times, we were ready to hit the fair. With one extra police officer added to our group, no one was ever, ever gonna approach us, let alone try to pickpocket us. And we wouldn't be losing any children. As the number of kids in my group was odd, I had paired up with one of the girls, and she wanted me to come on every ride with her. We went on ferris wheels,, spinny round things spinny round up and down things, spinny round side to side things and finally a spinny round up and down AND side to side thing. I was sufficiently dizzy by the end of the day, but I think I enjoyed it just as much as the kids. And they had a blast. We ate candyfloss, too much candyfloss. We ate milk cake and drank soda. Too much milk cake and soda. At the end of the day we were all feeling very full, a little bit sick , knackered and content. A brilliant family day out. With armed police guards.

Back Again...

Returning to Utila is almost  like going home (but the food isn't as good...). It's a place that is close to my heart. It keeps on drawing you back, again and again, with it's charm culture, the friendliness of the people and their willingness to show your their island, the endless opportunities for excellent diving, the rhythm of the constant reggae music, the impromptu parties, the beauty of the scenery around you, the way people live their lives on this island - relaxed, uncomplicated, chilled and simple. Everything combines together in just the right way to make it one of those places that you find very, very hard to leave. And that's what happens. People come here for a holiday and are still living here 15 years later, with a husband/wife, a family, a business. That's the story of most of the 'tourists' on Utila. Even the people who do leave, they come back, 1, 2 or 5 years after. They come back.

As did I, not 1, 2 or 3 years later, but a month after I had last visited the island. I was back to continue scuba diving, and to do my advanced diving course. Which is the next step for most divers who enjoy their Open Water experience. So there I was, back in Utila, with a group of volunteers from Project Trust and a few people we met along the way. Back at Ecomarine, the dive shop where my love affair with diving started, I was ready.

The advanced diver course consists of 5 dives, and for the most part you choose which ones you want to do. They suggest you do the deep dive, Peak Performance Buoyancy and a navigation dive. The other two are really your choice. So I chose a night dive and a drift dive. My first was the deep dive, this is where you go down to 30m or 100ft and at this depth you can sometimes start to feel the effects of Nitrogen narcosis, which makes you go a bit crazy and can't think straight. People describe it as a feeling of being drunk, but seeing as I've never experienced it, I couldn't tell you. Heading out on the boat I was excited, we were doing our deep dive on a wreck called the Halibourton, at 100ft long it was an impressive sight looming out of the depths as we descended. Settling on the bottom for some exercises to check if the depth and potential narcosis was having any effect on us, I was feeling good and very relaxed. After doing some timed counting and maths exercises we were off to explore the wreck. The Halibourton was purposely sunk at exactly 30m in May 1998, so it now has a large ecosystem on and around it. Circling around and through the wreck was cool, and while the visibility wasn't great and we didn't see any jaw dropping sealife, I was still back diving, and enjoying looking at all the intricacies of the coral and the organisms that come with it.

My Peak performance buoyancy and navigation dives went smoothly. With PPB you have to do sommersaults through hoops, knock over weights with your regulator and have neutral buoyancy while floating in various bizarre positions. The navigation was easy, you were given a compass and a bearing and you had to swim in various shapes for various lengths of time while always returning to the same point. Just pay attention to your compass, depth gauge and surroundings and things will go grand!

My best dive for sure was the night dive, this dive I got to do at night (obviously) and on a wreck. The same wreck that we did the deep dive on. I thought that the wreck would be eerie. And it appeared so at first, again looming out of the gloom in the light of my torch. But once you got closer, the colours appeared. They were much more vibrant than during the day and so much more beautiful. I was mesmerised by the colours. The wreck was covered in hundreds of arrow crabs, with their spindly legs and short bodies, crawling everywhere and flinching from the light of the torch. As we started our ascent, the colours disappeared, and we covered the lights of the torches, moving my hands in the water I discovered the bio luminesence, the organisms that glow a green at night when you move your hands through the water. I was mesmerised by this too, and as I was ascending the light of the moon on the dark sea made a beautiful light and a great ending to an awesome dive.

During my underwater time on Utila, I saw a turtle (!!!!!!), an eagle ray, a batfish, a remora tried to attach itself to me, thinking I was a fish and I got chased by an 8ft Green Moray eel. And of course, I completed my advanced diver course!

During my time on dry land on Utila, I chilled, slept, laughed, cried with laughter,  partied on a boat (although I'm not sure that counts as dry land...), went to a reggae concert, climbed a water tower to see the sunset, got eaten alive by sand flies and had a blast!

My last week in Utila until some time in the far future. And my last week of holidays for this year. And I'm very glad I spent it there. With under a month left here, I'm making the most of what's left of my time volunteering here at Miqueas, and I should hopefully have a blog up about my goings on here early next week, but for now! ENJOY!

Photos of the Moray Eel, Eagle Ray and Arrow Crab all courtesy of Shaun Doyle (Dive Instructor and photographer at Ecomarine Dive Shop).

Green Moray

Arrow Crab

Eagle Ray