As of today, I am the only white person I know who likes rosquillas. I have met one other who will eat them with coffee, but that is it. Rosquillas are really a very unassuming snack food. They aren't overly delicious, nor are they outright nasty. But for some reason, I find them incredibly addictive.

Although I am fairly certain I am not the only person who snacks randomly on these things, I believe the standard mode of consumption for these bad boys is dunking in coffee. They look kind of like skinny donuts, but they are very hard. They taste the way Cheez-Its would taste if they were made from cornmeal and were a little stale. If I am not mistaken, that is really all they are...cornmeal and cheese mixed with a little water and baked in a wood burning oven. I don't think that quesillo is used, because these don't taste like feet. How people are able to procure cheese that can be used to make something delicious when there is no decent cheese stocked in the dairy section of the supermarket is beyond me. But through some form of Central American magic, it happens.

There is a little town on the road between San Pedro Sula and Tegucigalpa that is famous for their rosquillas. I don't know which little town it is, so I wasn't able to stop there on my trip to the capitol, but I have definitely mooched off of coworkers who have made the journey and stopped to get some rosquillas. Unfortunately, none of you will be able to mooch off of me, because they would be none too fresh by the time I deboarded. But if you ever head down this way, get you some!!

Pop quiz, hot shot! True or False: Honduras has an adult literacy rate of 80%.

And the answer is...(drum roll, please)...TRUE! That's pretty awesome, right? Yes...until you actually look at what that means. There is no international definition or standard of literacy. Yet literacy rates are used as a gauge to determine how well (or poorly) a country is doing compared to the rest of the world. How does that work? Some countries (fortunately Honduras is not one of these) define adult literacy as "anyone 15 years or old who has ever attended school". You went to kindergarten for a week? Congratulations, sir; in Hong Kong you are considered literate.

The CIA's website says that the Honduran literacy rate is determined by the percentage of people over the age of 15 who can read and write. The question of the hour: what is it they can read and write? The answer to the question: not much. If someone is able to read and write a short, simple statement related to their everyday life, they are considered literate. So there is a country full of people who can see Spot run, but they can't read the names of the political parties and nominees on a presidential ballot. There are, of course, many incredibly well-read people down here...I don't want to make it sound like someone is uneducated merely because they are Honduran. But I would like to move that touting a literacy rate of 80% is not giving an accurate reflection of the level of education that ye average Honduran receives.

If we only look at the resources a child has at their disposal at school, it quickly becomes evident that these students are at a disadvantage. Even in the nicer schools, such as the one where I am currently employed. Unless a teacher or student brings in a book from home, there are no books in the classroom at the elementary level. The library space is very nice, but it is painfully lacking in the book department. This is something the school is working on, but it is a very slow going process. Public schools are even worse. Many do not have a library at all, much less a poorly stocked one. The majority of schools are not even able to provide more than one textbook to a classroom, so the teacher is often the only one with a book.

Outside the classroom isn't much better. I don't have much personal experience inside children's homes here, so I can't say without a doubt that there is a lack of literature on their shelves. But the very limited number of bookstores containing an even more limited selection of books probably is a good indicator that there aren't too many books in the average home. There are public libraries in some areas, but they are frequently closed. Several of them do not allow the books to leave the premises as well, which doesn't do much to increase book availability.

For a long time I have been thinking of ways to make education more accessible to the average person down here. The incredible lack of literature down here has saddened me deeply, and so a lot of my thoughts have been concentrated on immediate ways to promote literacy. I have met two incredible women who are working on building schools in different parts of the country. For those of you who loved analogies in high school, they are to Honduras what Greg Mortenson is to Pakistan. One woman in particular is as concerned with providing supplies to the students as she is about providing the actual buildings themselves. She has started an organization called Project School Supplies, although she does so much more than that. Here is her website if you want to check out all the stuff this woman has going on. The work she has done down here is truly phenomenal.

A lot of things are in the air right now as far as my involvement in the future of these projects. BUT for right now, I am trying to get books. As many books as possible. Preferably children's books, and preferably in Spanish. If you would like to send some books back down here with me, please let me know!! If you aren't going to see me, you can send them to my mom's house, and I will get them from there. I would NOT recommend mailing anything down here...it has been five months and I have not received any mail yet. boo.

Today is the last day of class in one of my chemistry sections until next year. Not next year as in January 2010, but next year as in January 2011. (The kids down here take the first semester of chemistry in 10th grade, and the second semester in 11th grade.) So in memoriam of my first semester of teaching solo, here are some reflections.

Project: Periodic Table: Yes, the name is kind of lame and not very original. But it turned out really cool. My classroom is fairly huge (which is good, considering my smallest class has 27 students), and the back wall is completely blank...no windows, boards, nothing. The perfect spot to put a gigantic periodic table. Before classes began, I measured the space available to determine what the table's dimensions would need to be. Enter the students.

Between my 8th and 10th grade courses, I have 4 classes...almost enough students for every known element. score. Each student picked their own element, and they were not allowed to choose one another student had already selected. When I introduced the project, I gave each student an 8.5"x8.5" piece of paper. Coincidentally, this is the size each element's square needed to be in order to reach the dimensions I measured over the summer, and I informed them of this. For further incentive to stay within the size constraints, five points of the final grade would be given based on whether or not your square was the appropriate size. Yes or no...five points or no points. Due day arrives, and I go to school, excited to receive the element squares and get some decoration up on the walls. Two things totally shocked me:

1- Several students in each class decided at some point in the project that they didn't like their element, so they switched. Double u...tee...eff... So now, I am missing much more than the projected four elements I was orginially going to be short, and I have multiple copies of certain elements. I ended up with four squares for thallium...who's even heard of thallium? Yet it apparently ranks higher on the "awesome element" scale than tin, lithium, and astatine. As I was setting up the actual table, I used the square of the person who was actually supposed to make it...and students got offended. Are you for real? You weren't supposed to do this one. Don't get angry with me because you don't know how to follow directions. It's still going up on the wall (those are the squares floating randomly around the actual table)...but in case you haven't seen a periodic table before, there's only room for one of each element.

2- Despite the fact that correct dimensions were worth points, and despite the fact that everyone received a square of the correct dimensions, a surprisingly large number of people went over the size restrictions. Way over. One girl turned in a poster. A 2'x3' poster. Because the 8.5"x8.5" square "wasn't big enough". (All the square needed to have was the: name, symbol, atomic number, atomic mass, and a visual representation.) This same girl was offended when I told her the only way I could put her square (technically hers was a rectangle anyways) in the periodic table would be if she cut her poster or made a new one. Seriously?

In the end, I was able to get squares of the correct dimensions from everyone. And I gave cookies to an 8th grader in exchange for making the missing 18 elements. It was totally worth it. I love my classes' periodic table.

Much of Monday has come and gone, and my AP schedule still has not made itself. In order to give it a little more time to work itself out, I decided to peruse my old blogs. While doing so, I discovered that I never did a post about Dia de los Niños. I know you guys have probably been freaking out, wondering when the heck I'm going to write about it. Well, fellow blog-readers, fear not. Here is the much anticipated post about Children's Day. AP schedule...good luck writing yourself; I'll see you in a little bit.

Many countries celebrate Children's Day. It is a day for appreciating the joy of childhood and for promoting early childhood literacy. Here in Honduras, we skip all the literacy crap, and get straight to celebrating what childhood is really about: parties at school, presents, and candy. Each country has their own day designated for Children's Day. In Honduras, that magical day is September 10th. As a high school teacher, I did not get to celebrate with my students, although I did manage to score some leftover cake after school. (yay for kids!!) The children at my school only got one day to celebrate. In the stellar Honduran public schools, kids only went to school one day that week, and that day was spent partying. Apparently the teachers didn't think the kids had missed enough school due to the teacher strikes, so they were trying to help them out.

The partying carried on into the weekend. The little church on my street had a celebration, and I was able to help out with it. We dressed up like clowns and did some dances to these really obnoxious songs. But the kids loved them, and that's what counts, I guess. Why is it that kids love really obnoxious things? alas. We had some games and a piñata, and then we watched a movie while we ate lunch. I had been asked to rent a church appropriate movie for the kids to watch, so I got Prince of Egypt and The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything because those were the only DVDs at the store that had a Spanish language option. However, the lady who brought the DVD player didn't bring the remote, so we weren't able to change the language. Instead of doing something else, they decided that the next best option was to watch the dubbed version of Paul Blart: Mall Cop on TV. Obnoxious as that movie is, it was apparently not obnoxious enough to hold these kids' attention, so it was (thankfully) turned off quickly.


I was a bad neighbor-friend and didn't buy presents for anyone, although the kids dropped subtle hints that led me to believe they were hoping I would. (Kelley...what are you getting me for Children's Day? I really like Barbies.) Instead, I got some storybooks and fruit, and was going to read to the kids one afternoon that week. That did NOT go over well. First of all, it was difficult to find a picture book in Spanish. And by difficult I mean after visiting five bookstores, I bought a fairytale book with a quarter-sized picture introducing each fairytale, and that was the most illustrated book I could find that wasn't in English. Nextly, as you may surmise from the general lack of literature, the kids were not used to being read to and had no interest in sitting through a story. Sad day...story time is the best!!!

Well, my AP schedule has still not written itself. Rather than lament the Honduran education system, I will go do my part to improve it. Wish me luck!

At first glance, this weekend was really nothing very extraordinary. It was pretty much business as usual, except for the fact that I was much more unproductive than I usually am. Embarrassingly unproductive, actually, if you think about it. So let's not...

Despite the unassuming normalcy shrouding this weekend's memory, some pretty exciting things happened that may or may not merit a blog post. But since I am the blogger, I have given the go-ahead. Prepare yourself.

FRIDAY- Always a good day; it signals the end of a long and hard work week, and the beginning of a few sweet, sweet days of rest. This particular Friday also signified the Honduras premiere of the new Twilight movie, New Moon (or Luna Nueva as we like to call it down here). I actually saw it twice because I am a sucker, but no need to dwell on that. If you have not seen a movie with a theater full of rowdy Latinos, you really need to get on that. These people had me laughing so hard at their wacky antics. The first shot of Edward, walking in ridiculously cheesy slow motion with the wind ruffling his shirt and hair, inspired squeals from the entire female population. Loud, enamored squeals. The scene where Jacob takes off his shirt for the first time received a similar response. I don't think I have ever laughed harder than at the line where Jacob calls Bella "loca". FYI- Hispanic people think we sound retarded when we throw random Spanish words into our vocabulary. Every student in the theater shared Jacob's disappointment when the ringing phone interuppted the kiss...from the sound of it, you would have thought their team just missed a goal in soccer. The other scene of note was the point where Jacob begs Bella to stay with him instead of going to Italy. Her response was lost among yells and hollers from every single guy in the theater, calling her names that I dare not repeat on here. Apparently some people haven't read the books.

SATURDAY- Pay day. heck yeah. I got a new book- Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. It's pretty good. On the way home from depositing our checks, Gabrielle and I decided to check out Los Andes Comisariato. We have been meaning to check it out for a long time, but it is not very conveniently located. Our loss. This place is amazing. It is safe to say that they have replaced PriceSmart as my favorite store down here. These guys have EVERYTHING. I was able to get some macadamia nuts, which I have been unable to find at any other grocery store or market stand IN THE COUNTRY. They also carry Dr. Pepper, the sweet nectar of life. And their dairy selection is both exceptional and reasonably priced. Walking past the wide variety of cheeses and milk (REAL milk. and heavy whipping cream!!! eeeeeeeee!!!!!!) made me feel giddy. Just thinking about it now makes me feel a little light-headed and joyful. Also, their hug tubs of minced garlic puts PriceSmart's to shame. And they have the most amazing selection of fruits and vegetables I have seen down here. sigh. I could go on and on.

That night was going to be chill, just hanging around the apartment. But then my friend Eunice called and asked if I wanted to go to Applebee's. I didn't particularly want to go but she said, "please, please, please", and as we all know, I am a sucker. So I got all dudded up and headed out. It was a lot of fun. Before you judge me too severely...they had a live band. Eunice's brother-in-law is the drummer for the Funky Monkeys, who happened to be playing there that evening. They were really good, in fact, they were so good, there were many times when I forgot for a moment that I was at an Applebee's. Really the only beef I have with them is that their lead singer, Joe, doesn't like Bon Jovi. What the mess? After the band finished, we all headed out to a bar called The Caribbean where I got to see Sampedrano nightlife at its finest. All in all, it was a very special evening, as one might suppose from the trip to Applebee's.

And now here we are, Monday again. sigh. And somehow, with all of the specialness and magic of the weekend, my finals did not finish writing themselves. Nor did the AP chemistry schedule magically figure itself out. weak.

Some of you have heard of (and subsequently laughed at) my intense desire to be a spy when I was a freshman in college. And for those of you who were unaware...the cat's out of the bag. My first semester at Texas Tech marked the first of many changes in major, from biology to political science. I was going to be James Bond, only female and less promiscuous. I even took courses in Russian so I would be totally ready for the next Cold War. A meeting with a CIA recruiter showed me I didn't have what it took to be a covert operative. Or so I thought...

Fast forward eight years. One weekend, Gabrielle and I are looking for something to do. Guatemala's close...let's do that. So we hop in the car and take off for the frontera. As you might imagine, we are stopped at the border, and our passports are checked. We had recently gotten our visas extended, so there was some special paperwork we needed to discuss with the customs agent. Then the nice man handed us our passports, said we were good to go, and sent us on our merry way into the Guatemalan unknown. It struck us as odd that we didn't receive any sort of stamp...but a lot of things don't make sense here, so we didn't dwell on that thought for long.

After about 30 minutes of nothing but banana fincas, we drove past what looked like a rest stop of sorts: a little shack with a Coca-Cola sign, lots of people sitting outside at picnic tables, big-rigs pulled over on the side of the road, and a small group of police officers. Nothing we felt particularly compelled to stop at, so we moved on in search of something interesting.

A short ways down the highway, we stumbled upon the Hibiscus Museum. Although I didn't see any actual hibiscuses (hibisci?) they did have a really pretty nature trail behind the museum. Inside there was a large collection of traditional Guatemalan clothing and textiles. The couple that owns the museum (which is also a restaurant) collected these for many years before opening this place up to promote cultural awareness. They also serve some amazing food. Some of the menu items have the same name as menu items in Honduras, but are prepared differently, which I thought was really interesting as well.

As it turns out, there really isn't much in this region of Guatemala. The woman at the museum pointed us to Puerto Barrios as the closest place of interest. Or really, the closest place, period. There was a market there, which we hoped would have textiles and things of that nature, but it was mostly stand after stand of black market DVDs and shoes. Not exactly what we were hoping for, and it was getting late in the day, so we decided to head back for home. On the way out of town, we were distracted by a replica of the Taj Mahal surrounded by a random assortment of brightly colored structures, so we decided to check it out. As it turns out, it was the city cemetery.

Guatemalans are known for their (some say garishly) colorful clothing and textiles. I didn't know that it carried over into other (or all) aspects of their culture. But apparently cemeteries at least also fall into the technicolor part of their cultural spectrum. I took a picture of it, but the data was corrupted so I can't share it with you...but I kid you not, the cemetery is sponsered by Sherwin Williams. ah-mazing.

We looked around the cemetery for awhile, then hopped back in the car. As you might expect, the drive back was similar to the drive there, only in reverse. That is, until we reached the rest stop. It looked exactly the same as it did earlier that day: people sitting at picnic tables outside the Coca-Cola shack, big-rigs pulled over on either side, and the group of police officers hanging out. Only this time the police officers wave us over and tell us we need to go inside.

We enter the small structure to discover, not the small comedor or pulperia we were expecting, but a customs agent at a desk. The man takes my passport and flips through the pages. When he reaches the end, he flips through again. He does this a couple times, and things begin to feel a little awkward. He then sets my passport down and informs me that I don't have an entry stamp, which I knew...but apparently that was the elephant in the room and he wanted to acknowledge it. Then he tells me we should have stopped by there on our way into the country to get our stamp. You may find this hard to believe, but I have driven past many shacks with Coca-Cola signs on them without going in to get my passport stamped, and this was the first time it's ever posed a problem. Or maybe all of that errant passport-stamp avoiding recklessness finally caught up with me. Whichever the case, if he gives us an exit stamp, he will also give us a fine. Nothing too insurmountable, but definitely more than "zero", which is what my budget for illegal country visits is currently set at.

"But the guy said we were good to go," I said in incredibly broken Spanish.
"What guy? I've been here all day."
"The guy who stopped us at the border."
"The Honduran border?"
"Si."
"Well, of course he said you were good to go. From Honduras. But that doesn't mean you are good to come. You have done a bad thing."
awesome. I think I might have whimpered a little bit at this point. Even more awesome.

Now the goodly customs agent had a decision to make. Were we trying to scam him? Or were we just two crazy American girls? The kind of people who don't innately know you need to stop in a small, unmarked shack to get an entry stamp after 30 minutes of driving past the border of the country for which said stamp is required? Fortunately he decided it was the latter, and let us go after we promised that next time we'd get a stamp. And since we paid for our meal in cash, there is nothing to say that we were in Guatemala that afternoon. It's like were never there.

In the biz, they call us "spooks". I'd tell you more, but then I'd have to kill you.

Jimmy Stewart I am not. And I wasn't appointed to a seat in the Senate. But this past weekend I had the opportunity to go to Honduras's capital city to observe their presidential elections. Fortunately, my tale involves much less politcal corruption than the movie, although it is definitely fraught with drama.

Saturday morning I was exploring Honduras's capital city and I stumbled across the zoological gardens. Sadly, the zoo itself was closed. Happily, they still charged me admission. Wait, scratch that. I wasn't really excited to find out that the zoo was closed after I had already paid. Alas. But then I saw this sign:

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! Hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday filled with delicious food and loving family.

Thanksgiving isn't really celebrated down here, but they do have a celebration at the school. So today after 2nd period, the whole school gathered for a mini-mass in the gym, and then we all feasted together. It was pretty awesome. One of my homeroom parents cooked a beautiful turkey for our class, and the PTA provided rice, mashed potatoes, bread, and cake. I was going to make sweet potato casserole but was unable to procure the majority of the ingredients, namely the sweet potatoes themselves. I did, however, find cranberry sauce at the grocery store!!! Our celebration was most excellent, despite the lack of one more carb one our plates...

In the spirit of the day, I wanted to throw out some things that I am thankful for. There are many things that I take for granted, and I have recognized this in the past. But nothing shoves the things you take for granted in your face more than living in a developing country.

I am so thankful for you, my friends and family. Your love and presence in my life is an immeasurable blessing. Each of you has helped to make me the person I am today, and I would not be who I am, where I am, without you. Your encouragement and support through the good times, bad times, and really really crappy times in my life are very much appreciated. And I am so thankful that even though I am not with you, I still have you.

Lately (to be read "since I moved here") I have complained about the internet. It's too slow. It doesn't work when it's raining. It doesn't work when more than one person tries to use it. It doesn't work because it's sunny. blah blah blah, on and on goes my list of complaints. But I am thankful that I do have it, erratic and crappy though it may be. It is better than nothing. And through the magic of the internet, I have able to keep in touch through email, chat, facebook, magicjack, and skype. Thank you, Al Gore.

I am thankful for my job. I make less money now than I did as a waitress in college. But I make money. Enough to pay my bills and still be able to explore this beautiful world God created. And to eat multiple meals everyday. I have indoor plumbing and a refrigerator, a solid roof over my head, and an air conditioning unit. And I have ample opportunity to share these blessings with others. I am truly a wealthy woman.

I am so thankful to be a child of God. That he loves me as I am, but desires so much more for me. That he has given me a role to play in his master plan. That he has given me all of these things, not only to show me how much he loves me, but also to show me how I can be more like him. And that he has patience and grace for me when I screw it up.

Again, I hope you are all having a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. Sorry this wasn't very funny. I'm not Matt Chandler, and it is hard for me to inject humor into something like this (as you can tell by some of my weak attempts towards the beginning). Besos y Abrazos. Thanks for listening.

As I mentioned in a previous post, some things are a little different here compared to back in the States. Shocking, I know. One thing that is very different, and a little bit confusing, is the name situation. Not the names themselves, but the quantity of them. For those of you unfamiliar with Hispanic culture/customs, you need to understand that they really like names and have as many of them as possible. And it confuses the mess out of this poor gringa.

Your typical Honduran has four names: first first name, second first name, first last name, second last name. My "Honduran" name would be Kelley Nicole Stephan Bishop, or Kelley Nicole Stephan de Bishop, depending on how formal you wanted to be. So all of my students have four names. That wouldn't be a problem, except they are not consistent in which names they use. It is kind of mood driven, I think.

For example, I have a student who is listed in all school records as Juan Castillo. For the first couple weeks, I thought he was absent because I never got any work from him. But I kept getting work from Juan Rey, who was not listed in anything I got from the school. One day Juan Rey approaches me and asks why his grades aren't available online, and I tell him he isn't on my register so I can't enter his grades. At this point I learn that he is Juan Rey Castillo. oh, ok. Several days later, a teacher comes in and asks me about Moises. I don't have any students named Moises. So we figure he's in another section. Then one of the girls from his class comes in and asks if I have seen Moises. I don't know who Moises is. But apparently I do. Apparently Juan's full name is Juan Moises Rey Castillo. And sometimes he likes to be called Moises but sometimes he likes to be called Juan. His application for the school has his name as Juan Moises Rey Castillo, but his birth certificate is Moises Juan Castillo Rey. I changed the names because I can't use real student information. But I have a similar story for at least one student in each of my classes. It is a lot to keep up with.

I am helping with the elections next week, and recently received an email from a Dra. Lissa Matute Cano. Before I could even get to the "difficult" part of my response (I was writing in my very limited Spanish) I had reached a dilemma: which name do I use? The first last name? The second? Both? Too many choices to even do a coin toss for. Fortunately, two of my students were in the room. So I asked which would be appropriate to use. The response? "psssh, I don't know, Miss. All of these names are confusing. My first last name is one thing, but on all of the school stuff, they use the other. On my passport they put both, but on my drivers license they only put the first one. I don't think it really matters. We are confusing with our names." Straight from the horse's mouth.

Despite all of the confusion that comes from having a thousand names that you can use at will, it is apparently equally confusing to have too few. I was recently interviewed by the student council because I am a new teacher. First question: "ok, Miss, what is your full name?" I responded truthfully. Kelley Nicole Stephan. Instead of being met with a second question, however, I was met with the same question, with emphasis placed on key words. "ok. What is your full name?" I explained that in the United States, it isn't customary to have four names...some people do, but by no means everyone. Blank stares. The girl writing down the responses looked a little flustered. Then one of the boys asked, "well, what's your mother's last name?" I told them her maiden name, and he said, "just write that down. We don't want to confuse people." Gotta love tolerance for cultural differences.

Horchata means many different things to many different people. I believe the drink originated in Spain, where they make it from ground up "tiger nuts" (not sure exactly what those are). It was brought over to Latin America, where there aren't a lot of tigers or tiger nuts. Each country in Latin America has their own variation of horchata, and each country thinks theirs is the best. I have only sampled Honduran horchata but it is really, really good.

Horchata is basically rice milk. Or rather, since I don't know what rice milk actually is, it is what I assume rice milk to be. Here in Honduras horchata is made from rice, cinnamon, and morro seeds. (Morro seeds are, I think, seeds from a calabash. Different sources say different things, and I have not been able to confirm this. However, I can confirm that there is no such thing as a morro plant.) Basically, you soak uncooked rice for a couple hours, toast the morro seeds and some cinnamon sticks, then blend all three together. Add water, strain out the chunks, and add sugar and lime to your taste. If I ever get the opportunity to try other variations of horchata, I will let you know. But for now, a cold glass of this stuff on a hot and humid Honduran afternoon is absolutely fantastic.

If you want to actual recipe, let me know. It's really fast and easy. I can even tell you some things to substitute for the morro seeds if you need to, although supposedly they are easy enough to find in the Latin food section of your local grocery store.

Last year for International Talk Like a Pirate Day, I forced an entire class of prekindergarteners to dress and talk like pirates. It was a beautiful thing. This year, since I no longer had a crew of 4-year-olds to do my bidding, I had to figure out another way to celebrate. Fortunately, I am in the middle of pirate territory (pirates of yore, not Somalian pirates). So in honor of TLaPD, I went on a swashbuckling adventure to the nearby town of Omoa.

Not many people are aware that the Mayan civilization reached as far south as Honduras. It really is Honduras's fault, because they have these amazing ruins and they don't really do anything to let people know about them. Too bad for Honduran tourism, awesome for people like you and me who can go see these amazing places with no crowds.

Mom called me this week and said that the Dallas Morning News (I think?) had an article stating that Mel Zelaya is returning to power. This is definitely a premature claim, considering there is going to be a vote about it this week. I have a long list of jaded comments I could make, but I'll just leave it at "we'll see what happens." In any event, I'll do my best to catch y'all up on the current goings-on.



We left off last time with Mel covertly re-entering the country and holing up in the Brazilian embassy. The country was essentially on lockdown for several days, but things began to normalize (in most of the country, at least...I hear the capital, Tegucigalpa, has been a pretty crazy place since the end of June) and rumors of talks between Zelaya and Micheletti began to fly. (As a quick side note- a talk between these two has been "in the works" since shortly after Mel was flown out of the country. Micheletti refuses any compromise that includes Mel returning to power, while Mel refuses any compromise not including it...so there has been a bit of a gridlock.) The day the curfew was lifted, the headlines read something along the lines of "Plans to Compromise Being Discussed". But that same headline, or at least one similar, was on the front page everyday for a week before they finally realized that it wasn't really news. It really looked like there was going to be no progress made on that front for a long time. With national elections just around the corner, things were looking pretty bleak. (If you didn't read the other post about this...unless Mel is reinstated, the newly elected leader will not be recognized by other world leaders. That was the threat, at least.)

Finally something changed. People from both parties met with a group of American negociators headed up by Thomas Shannon. The result of this meeting is the Guaymuras Accord, aka the Tegucigalpa/San Jose Accord. This basically gives the Honduran Congress (with approval from their Supreme Court) the final say in what happens next. Ironically, this is exactly where the country was at the end of June. Way to go, USA. Thanks for all of your help.

Congress will be voting this week to determine when, if, and how Zelaya should be reinstated. According to Mr. Shannon, Honduras will be backed by the US, regardless of the outcome of the vote. Based on Mel's reaction (during a radio interview, he said that this signifies his return to power and peace to Honduras) and things that I have been reading, it seems that the USA is fairly confident that Mel is going to be returned to presidency. It makes me wonder if the USA will back Honduras no matter what...unless they don't vote the way they are "supposed" to. We will soon find out...Congress will be holding their vote later this week at the earliest. There is no deadline for their decision, so who knows when they will reach their decision.

Honduran elections are coming up at the end of this month, and I have an exciting opportunity for you! :) The Tribunal Supremo Electoral (an independent entity that is in charge of the elections) is asking for international volunteers to witness the upcoming election. They are hoping to show the rest of the world that they truly are a democratic nation. It is over Thanksgiving weekend, so I know that most people won't be able to come down and help. But if you think you know someone who might be interested, please pass this information along!

Volunteers will need to get here no earlier than the (early) morning of Friday, November 27 for training. I am including a link with regulations and a letter from the Alliance for Peace and Democracy, as well as the application if you are interested in coming down. Prayers are good, too. And I guess you don't have to come down for that. :) Thanks!!!