Finally a life message

If you follow the highway heading north from Tegucigalpa you will encounter the Nph Ranch where about 500 kids and staff members live.
There a basically ways to get there. You can grab an old rusty yellow school bus which found its way down from the States. Much quicker would be to hitchhike. Then you might find yourself in the back of a pickup truck which hits the road with 150 km/h passing other vehicles in every curve. It is your decision, the first one lasts a lifetime long and the second one can take a life.
You will get a first impression of the life of Honduras on your journey to the ranch. Poor villages, slums, military patrols, people with horses and people in fancy cars with darkened windows will be the pics during the safari ride. That is the social aspect, steep hills followed by highlands as well as endless Pinian forests and plain fields form the natural part, results from deforestation.
Finally, there will be a sign on your right, 100m more to the entrance of the Rancho Santa Fé which is short said in somewhere in nowhere. The entrance still looks normal, a basic strong fence and some guys in a little outpost checking incoming and leaving folks. That is about it. As soon as you enter the ranch you enter a different world. You will leave Honduras.
The territory of the ranch is huge, very rural, lots of green, rather like a big farm, not an orphanage. The school, the boy’s homes, the clinic, the church etc. etc. aren’t easily to find. A guide is recommended at the first time on the ranch. A 10 minute walk to next lonely building is the normal procedure. Lots of crops and domestic animals fake the appearance of the rancho. But why isn’t it a huge farm? Tons of kids will stream toward you as soon as you get to their homes to ask you questions like: What is your name? Where are you from? I am hungry. Do you have a gift for me? They want to be hugged. All want your attention. And you, you will be just overwhelmed.
Your first impression would perhaps remind you of a summer camp for scouts. The kids follow a strict schedule, with lots of activities during the weekends and lots of work during the week. All children live in “hogares”, homes. Those are separated by age and sex. About 25 children stay in an hogar.
I am officially a civil servant. Nobody really knows what this means. For them I am just a loco volunteer. The PE teacher. The only guy who works in one of the girl hogares. 19 volunteers live in “Casa Personal”, a house designated just for us. We share rooms in pares have a kitchen, a library, a great garden and a huge almost never used terrace. Cats, dogs, tarantulas, and a bunch of other semi domestic animals frequently visit our quarters. Our jobs vary widely, our experiences are different. Still, we share one thing, we are the entertainment company for kids and sometimes staff too. “Casa Personal” is the oasis. Exotic appearing gringos from mainly the States, but also from Germany, France, Mexico, Belgium and Austria are found there. We are strange, but accepted, especially by the kids. We give them the chance to leave the strict rules behind. At least for a while.
I am the physical education teacher for all grades. 9 classes, kids aged from 5 to 16 are forced to play, exercise and learn under my madness. It is a tough quest to teach since most kids share 3 things in common. They are lovely, they are motivated but they refuse everything as soon as they are forced to do so. And as a teacher, you can turn and twist it as long as you want, you are the authority, the one to rebel against. “Bajate!!!”, “Venga!!!”, “Sientate!!!” Those are the standard commands which do not work. You are really happy to get a class under control. It is especially difficult during those very hot dry Honduran days, then they refuse to leave the shade. I can understand them, but work is work. It is a decent job, but tiring and my throat usually hurts afterwards.
I really start feeling useful when I go to my hogar “Hijas de Maria” daily in the early afternoon. This is special for me. 25 little girls keep dancing and playing till they are forced to work, study or go to sleep. And I am mostly in the middle. If I want to participate or not isn’t the question. They remind me of those bunny rabbits of the old Duracell television advertisement. They run and run, and fall asleep at some point within 3 seconds. Usually just anywhere during the weekends when the activities last into the late nights. Being a sofa for 4 or more at the same time isn’t unusual.
I try to initiate frequently other projects and look for small extra jobs. Just to make work and life more attractive at the ranch. One example is the girls (12-20) soccer team, it works and we have the potential to practice, enter a league and form a team. Massive bureaucratic rocks slower the development. This leads to the only thing which I dislike here, it isn’t about the kids, but about the endless bureaucratic barriers. I am here to help, I want to help, but I often can’t because of none support from the staff. Sometimes it is the best to just do a planned activity, don’t talk and just do it.
Spare time is a lack, I hardly visit any places in Honduras. I could, but I don’t really want to since my work is just too special for me. Perhaps once per month, when I am totally exhausted, is time to take a break. The volcanic island of Amapala (Pacific, Golf of Fronseca) was the last vacation weekend for me. Delicious cheap lobsters and cool beers have recharged my batteries again. To summarize, the country is unsafe and very poor. It is egoistic to think that this place is like a summer camp. All kids have extremely tough backgrounds and I am often wondering how they can laugh that much. Their sad stories and experiencing bad moments with them makes me much harder. However, I am so happy to be here. When I have a hard time with the nasty bureaucracy, horrible behavior of my pupils or some individual sad stories I know that my “hogar” will make me smile within a minute again. That is good to know.