Decompressed, I think that a few photos will bring back memories and enlighten readers.
Flying into to Tegucigalpa: hillside shacks. Ubiquitous yellow school buses.
Arrival at El Hogar. Children meet us on the loading dock we would then demolish -- in one day.
The other project that would in fact take the rest of our time and involve all of us in serious hard -- motrin inducing -- work. About 5 truck loads of compacted clay and rubble to be dug up with pick axes and shovels and moved with wheelbarrows.
The entrance to the shack serving as "home" to one woman and nine children (others at the women's shelter attribute 11 children to her).
Standing outside the shelter that serves as home to the mother of two children that are at El Hogar. There is no electricity, sanitation or running water. The walls and roof have holes and when it rains, water streams down through and around the property, threatening its collapse or demolition by boulders on the hillside above.
"Dangerous Dave" looking pensive as he contemplates the home visit.
It is not a Maytag...
Water break during pick-axe work.
Having removed five truck loads of clay, we start to form a sand base to lay the concrete on. We need quite a bit of sand ... over a truck load.
Still digging clay at the back we spread sand and tamp it down to form a level base.
That thing weighs quite a bit. Thump, thump ....
I don't think that the children of El Hogar have ever ridden one with tires.
At the end of another work day, we say our prayers, sing a hymn and relax a bit in each other's company.
Security is everywhere in Honduras. This is at a filing station on the way to the "Farm." He directed the way to the banos for Bill, a friendly guy.
School buses from all over North America are the main form of transport. Clean, chromed wheels, shiny paint ... they roar over the land.
At the farm, bananas grow, cattle and other livestock are raised, and children learn modern agricultural methods to bring back to their villages.
Our resident architect and tractor driver. Did I tell you Liz's tarantula story? Apparently, they can get kind of big down here.... But we didn't see any. In fact, no bugs or mosquitoes.
This mural was done by an El Hogar grad. It is in the chapel at the Technical Institute and we were privileged to see its grand unveiling.
Some slight Soviet-style feel, but I assure you the welcome was warm.
The El Hogar van had some technical problems ... the rear seat collapsed leaving some volunteers to "low ride" back from the Institute.
Poverty -- across the valley from Haciendas behind gated community walls and razor wire. Most of El Hogar's children come from this sort of background or straight off of the streets.
On the way to Valle Angeles. About 7,000 feet up and it looks a lot like Northern California, until you see the local houses.
Cooking in the kitchen. On the road to Valle Angeles.
The local iron work is simply amazing. So are the crafts ... irresistible. My bag o' crafts is out of picture being guarded by Frank and Gayle (thanks again).
Iris, back at El Hogar.
'Til next time, "Dangerous."
Gracias, Padre Thomas!
Dos amigos.
Gracias, LeezKeenchen (that is all one word, spoken very fast), from all of us.
Several of us are not pictured -- this is largely because I shot mostly video with my iPhone and also due to the fact that I will get around to posting video at some later date. We will also create a Picassa Website where all interested can browse hundreds of photos.
