One man's trash is another man's treasure.

Today was a day for the books. Whatever that means. Karin and I were originally supposed to accompany Dr. Don in Ceiba Grande to teach music for a little bit this morning. However, last night we asked some of the girls at staff housing if we could hang out with them after because it's Dr. Don and Mrs. Rumbaugh's 27th wedding anniversary. Long story short, we ended up heading out to the dump this morning with a few girls from staff housing. Every Saturday, they take a group out to La Ceiba (it's about an hour and a half away from Loma de Luz) to teach the kids various lessons, play with them and then feed them lunch. There are about 2,000 people living at the dump. These people literally live on top of trash, in and around trash. As years have gone by and the population has increased, they now have running water in the dump, electricity, an elementary school and a church. It is amazing how resilient and resourceful people can be. Outside the feeding station, where we were playing with the kids, you could see some guys stationed by an empty dirt lot. I was told that they wait for the dump trucks to drop of the trash and then sift through, seeing what things they can use, sell or recycle. They give a whole new meaning to dumpster diving. While at the dump, I was just heartbroken to witness a whole different kind of pecking order than I have experienced in the schools. The kids there were ruthless. I watched two boys rough housing, inadvertently bump into a little boy, causing him to spill his soup. The little boy was visibly upset and moved toward the wall, as not to be further disturbed by anymore horse play. I saw the same little boy moments later still eating his soup, but he was up walking around. It was almost as if the other boys viewed him as a moving target or something. I watched as a boy walked by the soup-eating babe and just knock the spoon right out of his hand. I wanted to cry for the little boy and then slap the spoon bully upside the head. Neither of these reactions seemed to be appropriate so I refrained. You might think I'm a horrible person for not stepping in but I didn't deem it socially or culturally appropriate for me to intervene in a situation that was being handled by the little boy's older siblings. Family loyalty here is amazing. What older brothers and sisters do for their young siblings is incredible. At some point, these children become the parents for their younger siblings in many situations.

After feeding the kiddos, we headed into town to run errands and do some grocery shopping. Life in La Ceiba is SO different than life here in the village. As you can imagine, city life here involves the hustle and bustle much like city life in the states does. Riding in a Land Cruiser through villages, herds of cows, motorbikes, barefoot bicyclists and fearless pedestrians is INSANE. The mall and grocery stores are crazy. And I'm still not used to the exchange rate here. In my mind, I know that 20 lempiras is equivalent to a dollar but still...seeing 96.00 on the cash register for a couple of coffees shocks you a little bit. After picking up mangos, tortillas and various other essentials in the city we headed back to our simple, lovely town (with a bit more appreciation for the calm, I might add). Right after our return to the casita, Karin and I headed out to the beach with Rachel, the girl who let us tag along with her to the dump. Let me tell you. Honduran ocean sunsets are incredible. Almost as incredible as a Honduran starry sky on a clear night. Everywhere you look, the views just (allow me to be cliché for just a brief moment) take your breath away. It's weird to think that I have made it to the two week mark. I have three more weeks to soak up this experience. Tomorrow another intern arrives, along with several other interns later in the week, adding a new dynamic to the group so hopefully the transition goes smoothly. Still trucking and still sweating...Xoxo.