ESTA ES SU CASA--OCTOBER 2010

ESTA ES SU CASA--OCTOBER 2010

I’M JUST SAYING...

I am in St. Louis (till October 20), and I will file a report on those adventures, but I thought I better keep my hand in, and remind us all of why I’m here.

Chemo finally got a report card! It took a month of teacher strikes to produce it (I guess SOMEBODY was feeling a little guilty...!). It was funny; at the parents meeting called by the principal Profe Flor when the unions signed a new agreement with the government, she explained that the kids would have classes on Saturdays to make up for the lost days, but, the good news was, their grade cards were ready. At that point, a few teachers raised their hands to say they didn’t have the grades ready quite yet. Like the joke about the Berlin Wall, guy takes his car to the shop and the wall goes up overnight and 30 years later wall comes down, goes to claim his car, mechanic says, “Right. Be ready Thursday.”

I’m smiling because Chemo’s teacher Juana Maria had his grades fresh and ready, and they were great! I was so proud of him. And he said, “Miguel, I’m going to fourth grade, and fifth grade, and sixth, and high school, and the university, too.” But it did make it easier to come up to St. Louis.

Chemo did not want to celebrate his birthday September 9, anticipating a big surprise when I return from St. Louis (which he refers to simply as “that”: Did you buy that yet?? he keeps asking when I call). But the sweeter side was his thought to share his day with Denis, an autistic boy in Paraiso turning 15 the same day; so we got a cake after all and traipsed across the river. Actually, I had told Nanda, Denis’ mother, that we would keep things very low-key, so as not to stress Denis, but when we got there she had all the little neighbors in the yard, ready for a party. Denis did stay inside and panicked some at the prospect of going public, so I tried to assure him he could be safe by himself.

Denis’ fear speaks for us all. You may have heard of the massacre in Tamaulipas, Mexico, of 72 would-be immigrants, gunned down in a barn by the “coyotes” who promised them safe passage into the USA. Thirty of them were Hondurans, and the news and returning dead (their coffins draped in flags, received by the president himself) threw the whole country into panic and despair. But it’s like what the firefighter said on 9/11 about the “jumpers”: “How bad are things inside the Towers that people are jumping out to certain death?” Because Hondurans don’t have to go to Mexico to die in droves. Just a few days after the massacre in Mexico, a gang beset a shoemaker business in Tegucigalpa and shot to death 18 out of 20 employees, marking their territory. The two who escaped helped police identify at least one of the killers who said it was “funny” how the victims just fell all over the place. Totally unrepentant--well, I guess you’d have to be! So, I’m sorry, America, but nothing will stop them, because they have nothing to lose.

But even in the whirlwind, there are carefree times. The Day of the Student was a lot of fun. Chemo at first did not want to go to the celebration (“I’m too big.”), but he had a good time anyway, especially when his little cousin Reina competed in the “modeling” show.

Then came Independence Day, September 15, with the raising of the flag at dawn. I could hardly believe it when Chemo jumped out of bed. But 20 or 30 points were at stake for attendance. The celebration was even more elaborate that the Day of the Student, including even a skit based on the Tamaulipas massacre. I hardly knew how to react.

The weight of such contradictions has dragged Maricela into depression, and we are all concerned. I suppose a full diagnosis would name her bi-polar, but we are hoping her appointment in El Progreso at the hospital clinic will yield some helpful treatment. Maricela is so dear to us all because she named her baby Mariana Teresa, for my sister Mary Anne and for Teresa Jorgen. When Teresa called recently and asked what she needed, Maricela said she would love a crib for the baby. We found Marcio and Chepe working on a gorgeous piece at their workshop. “It’s for a woman in Tegucigalpa, but we’ll sell it to you and make another one for her--she’ll never know the difference!”

Meanwhile, Chepito has been cranking out his own gorgeous art one drawing after another. The most beautiful is a cross of such delicacy that I call it Chepito’s Rose Window. The photograph does not do it justice.

I call Chemo twice a day, before and after school. He is thriving in Dora and Elvis’ care. I think I’m a little jealous!

Love, Miguel