August, 2011 § Leave a comment
I woke up to a text from Christine and I told her I wanted to go to the hospital.
She and Norma came and got me. Sonya hooked me up to an IV, Christine drew my blood, and Dr. Joel asked me questions and made me laugh against my will about the huge barf bucket I had brought.
After the first liter of IV fluid, I started feeling alive again. The fever stuck until, well, until I left Honduras. But, with a little medicine and plenty of water, it didn’t interrupt things too much.
Christine took me home because my IV finished around the time she was done with work.
A shower has never felt so good.
It’s like I had forgotten for a day that I had a body and when I poured cold water over my burning head, I started to remember how to use my fingers and toes.
Christine and I went to a pulpería to get some soda crackers. I was craving peanut butter and crackers. I bought six packs of crackers but could hardly finish the first.
Dr. Joel gave me packets of electrolyte solution to put in water. So gross. After trying to make it bearable I decided to just go back to the pulpería and get some Gatorade.
Mike and Peggy Yost picked us up to go to fellowship. Fellowship was weird for me. I really only wanted to be around Jason, or any other Honduran. I wasn’t sure how to interact with the missionaries because if I hadn’t already made plans with them, it was too late now.
[It’s ironic. Today (08/30) I got an e-mail from one of the missionaries discussing my behavior at fellowship that night. Ask me, I’ll show it to ya. It was humbling. Humiliating? Both?]
Not to mention, the thought that I hadn’t gone to the Children’s Center killed me and I thought if I could squeeze the few of them that were there hard enough, maybe the rest would feel it.
I love Jason. I know I’m not supposed to have favorites or whatever and I’m not even saying that Jason is my favorite. I’m just saying that I love him.
I want him to have the best of everything and I never want to lose track of him. That is love, right?
He and Umberto came to me and said goodbye before they left. I know it seems normal but, for two adolescent Honduran boys, it means something. It meant something to me.
While they were doing fellowship I was on the computer familiarizing myself with the itinerary, and my Facebook. I’m excited to see my family and friends.
After fellowship we went to Iris’ house. Edwin’s papi was there. He led us in a devotional during which Christine let a little gas slip and produced for all of us a night full of entertainment.
But before I get into that, Don Victor (Edwin’s dad) mesmerizes me. He plays the guitar in a somewhat classical Latino fashion and it reminded me of the 4th of July when Christian’s aunt played the guitar for us. He sings beautifully, too, and with conviction. Then he spoke to us about Jesus turning water to wine. I wish Don Victor was my uncle.
He’s so respectable but not unattainable. Less like a refined wine and more like the perfect cup of coffee.
After having gone to church every day during this trip, it would be the devotional with Don Victor and my last night in La Ceiba that I enjoyed most. They’re different in a lot of ways but, at the heart, so irresistibly sincere. I can’t ask for anything more from the church right now. Thank you, Don Victor, for being sincere on the porch with your guitar, your family, and your Bible.
So sincere that he didn’t even notice Christine’s trumpet sound until he looked up from his Bible and saw us all resisting an irresistible laughter. Edwin had me in stitches for the rest of the night. Aryan came over and Edwin started dropping hints about what happened during our devotional so we decided to leave Christine and Aryan alone so Christine could explain what was going on (knowing full well she would never).
Edwin, Iris, Marialis, David, and I went to the park. While Marialis and David played the three of us sat on a bench talking about life.
Lindy’s family is a good fit for me and I’m glad to have met them. Edwin, Iris, and I I think could talk forever–the three of us. We’re different enough to keep things interesting but I think what we have in common is that we know we don’t know and we know there’s not just one way. One way to live, to love, to joke.
Edwin told me later that Iris likes me a lot and he thinks it’s because I’m the same as them. Whatever that means, I’m glad. I want to be the same as people. Even after having gone back to Iris’ house (Aryan had left before we got back) and harassing Christine so much that she left, I sat on the porch with Edwin, Iris, Lindy, and Kevin until midnight, talking and joking.
I was glad I hadn’t made plans for the next day before I left. It’s nothing short of an honor to have spent my last day in town with them.