tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-274454062024-03-07T22:19:34.500-05:00The Story of BenAll men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.
T. E. Lawrence, "The Seven Pillars of Wisdom"J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-10657712079356228052012-08-15T02:17:00.000-04:002012-08-15T02:17:02.526-04:00Estás En Tu CasaSaludos from the West Coast blog fans! So much for keeping this updated as I travelled across the US (and back again, and back again, and back again, and then back one more time). I’d love to recount all of those great stories, and I hope to someday. But for now I am just going to pull a Tarantino and start at the end of the story.
So I’ve just finished my first week of work at my new job. Feels kind of weird saying that, but alas, it’s true. Perhaps because it’s so new, or perhaps because it doesn’t really feel like a real job? Which is a good thing, because that means I like it. I got hired by a non-profit in Northern California called Puente de la Costa Sur, which serves a mainly agricultural area on the south coast of the San Francisco Penninsula, which is about an hour south of SF city and 45 minutes north of Santa Cruz. The town we are based in is called Pescadero. It's a really small town about two miles inland from Highway 1 on the Pacific Coast. Basically this is what my commute looks like every day (when its not foggy):
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Puente (pronounced Pwen-tey, meaning “bridge” in Spanish) has been around in its current form for about 10 years (I think?) and serves as a resource center for the South Coast community, focusing mainly on the immigrant farmworkers and their families. For more on Puente, check out www.mypuente.org and look for us on facebook too!
My role is Community Outreach Coordinator. A large part of my job is going to be getting out to the farms and ranches to talk to the workers there, make sure they know about all of the programs and services offered by Puente and also listen to their concerns/discuss any issues they may be having and figure out how we may be able to help. In general I am going try to be the eyes and ears of the organization, not only regarding the farmworkers but the ranch owners as well as other community members. In general, we want everyone to have the same access to services across the board. It’s tough because despite being only a few miles from one of the wealthiest places on earth (Silicon Valley just over the hill), in some ways this area is still like a developing country. There have been water quality issues, getting access to good health care is a challenge and the school district needs a lot of help as well. I think all of these issues have less to do with this community being primarily latino, I imagine many rural communities (both in the US and abroad) face these kinds of issues. Basically Puente tries to stick its neck out for those who can’t or don’t know how. Which is exactly what Rick Barga said about USG off-campus committee back at Ohio State. Perhaps I’ve been doing a variant on that role ever since...
My first week of work was fabulous. It’s a great team full of very energetic, smart, and dedicated people. It is a mixture of both latino and white folks, I spend at least half of my day speaking spanish. Although pretty much everyone who works for us is bilingual. I haven’t spent much time with Mexican spanish so I am focusing on trying to pick up the small differences and some of the slang. There is at least one phrase, however, that carries over from the spanish I already know. Our office manager was showing me around on my first or second day and while we were in the kitchen portion of the office and she was pointing everything out, she said, “Estás en tu casa.” The literal translation of this phrase is “You are in your house,” but it’s basically the equivalent of “Make yourself at home.” Usually people say it when you arrive in their home and want you to be comfortable. But right then in that moment when I heard her say “You are in your house,” I couldn’t stop the huge grin from growing on my face. The awe and excitement of feeling good about being in a new place with a new job with all of these new people was a little overwhelming, and it was all brought out by that one little phrase. It was a good moment.
The end of the day arrives and I find myself not wanting to go home. It is also a new feeling that I get to go home, since in Honduras “going home” mean walking into the next room for a few minutes before coming back to the room I worked in most of the day. No more of that. I actually get into my car and drive somewhere that is all my own...well sort of. My new living situation is pretty unique. I live in an 30’ RV on a horse ranch overlooking the ocean. While you absorb that, take a look at these pictures:
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The owners are a married couple named Montrese and Anders, and they have a little daughter. She takes care of the animals (about 6 horses, 30 or so goats, and 27 chickens and ducks) and he is a contractor. They are very friendly and laid back, and I help them sometimes with work around the ranch. I like this set-up for sure.
It’s often pretty foggy up here but when it clears up, the view is unbelievable. Rolling hills all around and an amazing view of the ocean. If I’m lucky I get to watch the sun set into the ocean right outside my window. A few examples:
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There is a little stove where I can cook and a shower with a propane hot water heater, so most of my bases are covered. Since I am not driving it around, using the electrical appliances would run the battery down fairly quickly, so I am typing this by candlelight right now. It actually works out ok, there isn’t much space to be lit up anyway! I charge my computer and my phone at work or in my car and use them as needed. There is cell service so that’s not an issue either. It will be a great place to spend a few months while I look around for something more permanent. Every morning right outside my door there are horses running around in the mist, it’s kind of magical. Lots of wide open spaces, I have been enjoying taking walks with their dog around the land when I get a chance. She has told me there are horse trails all around too, so there should be plenty of hiking right outside my door. Here's a picture of my walking buddy, Nala:
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When you let it, life can take you to some pretty unbelievable places. There is no way I could have predicted I would have landed in this situation, but when you stay open, flexible and willing to say “yes” a lot, there is no end to the interesting places you can end up.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSZAqkfUJSkX18KD-uGyMmLaOsW8s1FIpeS_m6A7R36dpx-1KdrYn4dir92gnNMyEhf7OFQtiBsySYyzXcwjUjxzJiq9PaG-Ar68qE4vG5cxn-Vw0hgHT-tNEoxcI2OMQ1JH1NQ/s1600/blog8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSZAqkfUJSkX18KD-uGyMmLaOsW8s1FIpeS_m6A7R36dpx-1KdrYn4dir92gnNMyEhf7OFQtiBsySYyzXcwjUjxzJiq9PaG-Ar68qE4vG5cxn-Vw0hgHT-tNEoxcI2OMQ1JH1NQ/s320/blog8.jpg" /></a></div>J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-52152578875948121662012-04-21T00:30:00.001-04:002012-04-21T00:30:26.526-04:00Fat Tire anyone?New Belgium brewery tour, Fort Collins, CO<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_eYqEG_ZDsuu_kDsLvBcZpefPZGVKDQCvM7oNPm2y7XsFgC0bXeCGN3OSQ4m4spwQbbF_ZpIkp6im-YpQRGFaJAGGmANHL60L5AH5avn7_ML4A0Ti0XXov6Joh0Y2O3wP-NrMA/s640/blogger-image-531669816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_eYqEG_ZDsuu_kDsLvBcZpefPZGVKDQCvM7oNPm2y7XsFgC0bXeCGN3OSQ4m4spwQbbF_ZpIkp6im-YpQRGFaJAGGmANHL60L5AH5avn7_ML4A0Ti0XXov6Joh0Y2O3wP-NrMA/s640/blogger-image-531669816.jpg" /></a></div>J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-59104755975611864112012-04-19T23:16:00.001-04:002012-04-19T23:16:52.189-04:00A New York Minute (April 6)A few hours of driving north on I-95 took me past Philadelphia to Princeton, NJ. Another Peace Corps friend, Dan Wright, has been at Princeton for the last few years in school. He had a class in New York City that day and had already left when I got there. I dropped my car at his place, assembled my bike, and rode to the Princeton Train Station. I quickly bought a ticket and made it just as the connection train was pulling out of the station, and then just made the transfer onto the next train to New York as it passed through the next station. I felt kind of important for things to work out like that for me, like the world revolved around me for those brief moments.
The plan for the evening was for a bunch of Peace Corps folks to rendezvous and get some dinner. I met Dan at the apartment of our friends Katie and Noah, who live in the city. Katie, Noah, Dan and I all arrived in Bolivia together almost 6 years ago, which seems like a long time but we caught up as if no time had passed. Again, the kindred spirit of the Peace Corps volunteers. Here's a shot from the good 'ol days with the four of us on a hike in Bolivia (plus a couple of others)
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Our other friend Lauren came briefly into town to say hello and introduce us to her new baby, Monica, who I found out was actually born on my birthday this year! Lauren and her partner Sean had come to Cincinnati back in 2009 to run the Flying Pig Marathon, and it was great to see them again briefly and catch up. We then headed out to dinner for Serbian food at a place called Kafana...I wasn't sure what to expect as far as Serbian food goes, and I can't tell you exactly what it was I ate but I do know that it was delicious. Another one of our friends, Ross, met us at the restaurant. Liz, a friend of mine from Honduras, who is also in NYC joined us as well. It was like my worlds colliding for a moment, which I actually always really enjoy. It had been almost a year since seeing Liz, who was one of my housemates in Santa Lucía and fellow coffee junkie. The meal and compartiendo were both excellent, for a moment it felt like being back in Bolivia again...like all of us were just in from our sites and enjoying a delicious dinner...the few differences being we didn't smell as much and the food was not nearly as cheap as Bolivian cusine!
We headed out to a bar afterwards for drinks and met up with Brandon and Lex, two more volunteers currently living in the city. Turns out NYC is a haven for Bolivia RPCVs. Here's a shot of Dan and me at the bar, and I am of course wearing the sweet denim shirt Dan gave me as a gift last year.
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Anyone bored and in the area should hit up Dan's Cinco de Mayo 30th birthday party in Princeton. There is talk of roasting an entire pig! (Although unlike Bolivia, they won't have to kill this one themselves).
I was pretty worn out at this point from hopping from spot to spot, so Dan and I returned back to Katie and Noah's place to crash for the evening. After a light breakfast we were back on the train to Princeton the next morning. It was a quick trip but I knew I would be back to the city soon...
Dan made me a delicious sandwich before sending me on my way to State College, PA.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-88312086840258878832012-04-19T22:53:00.001-04:002012-04-19T22:54:43.133-04:00Baltimore: Expect the unexpected (April 5-6)I got off the train and Baltimore Penn Station and took a bus that dropped me a few blocks from my friend Jacky's house. Jacky is a friend from the Bolivia days and in general one of the funniest people I know. My time in Baltimore was short but thanks to Jacky it was far from uneventful!
Jacky managed to find two super cool roommates in Baltimore, also RPCVs. Jenny was in Mozambique and Nora was in Lesotho. I have found that Peace Corps definitely attracts a certain breed and that I enjoy that breed and folks of that breed often get along with one another...Nora and Jenny were no exception. They showed me around the area they live (Fell's Point, very nice) and I learned something about Baltimore I didn't know:
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Here's a shot of Jacky and me by the water
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After the tour of the neighborhood and the docks, we ended up at a pizza joint called Johnny Rad's...which was delicious and had good beer selection. We laughed through the entire meal and fun was had by all, except when Nora whipped my tail in Skee Ball. In all fairness, I had not played in a very long time, and she was somewhat of a ringer. We picked up some local beer on the walk home and the merrymaking continued on Washington St. Fleetwood Mac's Rumors was playing on the turntable and we thought it would be a good idea to light some dandelions on fire. I am not quite sure at what point in my life I figured out that dandelions (or whatever you call the white poofy seed version that is pre-dandelion) put on quite a spectacle when you light them on fire, but the fact is, they do. Jacky had a lovely bouquet of these in the kitchen which we promptly took up to the patio and commenced burning. It got a little dicey when they decided to put them in their mouths before lighting, but I assure you no RPCVs were harmed during the taking of this photo:
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The evening wound down and I settled in for a good night's sleep on the downstairs futon. I fell asleep thinking that really the only previous impression I had of Baltimore came from watching the HBO series The Wire, which deals with cops and drug dealers...not the prettiest picture. But I found myself really liking it, which of course had mostly to do with my great hostesses, but it seemed to be a nice city nonetheless.
The next morning we headed back down to the water for breakfast at Jimmy's Diner...it was delicious and filling and full of baseball fans due to the opening day festivities. Our next task was to drop Jenny at the airport, on the way to which Jacky DJ'd some excellent tunes and we danced and sang like a Brownie troop on a bus to camp. We had to stop for gas, but that didn't stop Jenny from busting out Mmmmbop while she pumped!
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We said a tearful goodbye to Jenny and scolded her for breaking up the band. Our next task was to drop Nora at the car rental place, she was heading home too. Jacky and I returned home and I packed up to set off on the next leg of my journey. I hadn't driven in almost two whole days and I was glad to have a short 3 hour drive to my next destination. It was an awesome 18 hours or so in Baltimore, and I looked forward to many more random nights of excellent people, food and drink. Who was to know what was in store over the next weeks of traveling...
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The fantastic four: Ben, Nora, Jacky, JennyJ. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-75936269753069196212012-04-19T21:33:00.000-04:002012-04-19T21:44:14.038-04:00...so I went to our nation's capital AGAIN and met up with Joe Shultz AGAIN... (April 4))From Charlottesville I drove across Virginia to Maryland, the strangest shaped state in the union, in my opinion. I dropped my car at a friend's place in Baltimore and hopped on a train to Washington, DC. Parking in DC was not something I was excited about, hence leaving the car. Not to mention trains and public transportation on the east coast are prevalent and easy to use. More on that later.
I was greeted at Union Station in DC by my jolly old friend, Joe Shultz. I have visited Joe in DC a handful of times over the past few years and it is of course always an enjoyable stay. We headed out to H Street for mussels and beer at Granville Moore's, a spot we have hit up several times in the past that never disappoints. We were joined by another OSU friend, Anne Knapke. It was fun to catch up and reminisce about the college days as well as hear about what we are all up to now and looking to in the future. Having been on the road for over two weeks now as I write this, I have had this conversation many times with many different people, and it has yet to get old. Most people say they are envious of the time I have to spend out traveling and visiting, and I certainly don't blame them. I also really enjoy hearing about what friends are up to or looking to do next. Taking a moment to think about all the people I have met along the way and where they all are in their lives really blows my mind sometimes. I'm just one person, and I know a lot of people who all have amazing and interesting lives...it's just incredible to me how that extrapolates out across the entire planet...so many people with so many different lives...
Anyway, it was a nice night out. The next morning Joe and I grabbed a quick breakfast before he hopped in a cab and said, "Take me to the Senate!" I didn't take any pictures of Joe so I thought I'd put up a throwback shot from a few years ago of Joe enjoying a stogie on the California coast:
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I then took a walk up to another friend's apartment, one Miss Tahira Rehmatullah. Tahira has had many nicknames over the years but for ease and appropriateness I will refer to her simply as "T." It had been about a year and a half since our paths crossed last, during which she had moved to DC from Brooklyn for a yearlong fellowship. We grabbed a cup of coffee and caught up for a bit at a place that shares a name with another friend of ours, David Tynan:
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T was on her way out of town so I left her to finish up some work and pack up. I headed down to the DC Mall (not a place to shop for those of you who don't know) and decided to hit up the Air and Space Museum. It was very enjoyable despite also being attended by approximately 67 million junior high school students on spring break bus trips. I exercised patience since I was also once one of those students way back in 1995 or something. I really enjoyed the museum, especially learning more about the Wright Brothers. I have a huge sense of pride being from the same state as the Wright Brothers and also find it entertaining that they ran a bicycle shop before tackling flying. As I journey across the country trying to figure out what's next for me, I found this quote fairly appropriate. Perhaps it's a sign?
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I went to meet Joe for a quick lunch at Union Station before heading out of town. He left me with a tough question to think about as I journeyed on..."So, how do you make this trip about what's next in your life and not just about visiting friends?" I didn't have a good answer for him then but hopefully those answers may present themselves out here on the road. Because for the most part, so far, it has been simply to visit friends.
Before heading to the train station, I made a quick trip to visit the national Marine Corps Memorial, also known as the Iwo Jima statue. It's one of my favorite things to see in DC. On my walk from the Metro station to capital, I actually walked over US Route 50, which had I turned west at that moment, I could have trekked directly back to Cincinnati if the spirt so moved me. I headed onto the statue instead:
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It was a nice place to sit for a few minutes, but then I had train places to be. As I rode on the train back to Baltimore, I kept thinking about what Joe had said...J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-87684937533298871992012-04-19T10:57:00.002-04:002012-04-19T10:57:59.302-04:00Setting Forth (April 2-4)The first stop on my new journey was Charlottesville, Virginia. It was about a 7 hour drive from Cincy through eastern Ohio, West Virginia, and finally western Virginia. It was a fairly uneventful ride and included listening to many road trip themed songs. I kicked it off with "Born To Run" by Bruce Springsteen and a new favorite, "Windows Are Rolled Down" by Amos Lee. Thanks to George Wang for the song rec, it has become one of my daily go-tos while on the road. It was a beautiful day for a beautiful drive, warm and sunny through the Appalachian Mountains. Here's a shot from an overlook in the Blue Ridge Mountains, about 40 miles West of my final destination in Charlottesville.
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I was headed to the home of my good friends from the Peace Corps days, Tom and Anna Sullivan. Our time was spent laughing and catching up, as well as being entertained by their beautiful daughter, May Bird. May Bird is about to turn 2 and is already an expert iPad operator, as well as a pretty good cook!
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Upon my arrival Anna, May and I walked into town for a delicious Mexican food dinner at a restaurant called Guadalajara and then spent sometime walking the historic downtown mall, a very nice cobblestone retail district. One of the not so historic places we saw was Miller's bar, where Dave Matthews used to tend bar:
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The next day Tom took me up to Monticello, the historic plantation home of Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson was a Charlottesville native and considers designing the University of Virginia in Charlottesville one of his greatest achievements. Not only was the building beautiful and incredibly designed, the grounds and museums telling all about everything Jefferson were fascinating as well. It is definitely worth a visit if you are ever in the area. Here are a few shots of Monticello:
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I really enjoyed spending time at Monticello, Jefferson truly was an amazing human being. He was a lawyer by training but taught himself architecture and 4 or 5 languages. His experiences in France influenced the styles he used as well as the food that was prepared for his guests. The tour guide did not make this claim outright, but alluded to Macaroni and Cheese being invented at Monticello. I haven't even mentioned his other life accomplishments like writing the Declaration of Independence, becoming President, or buying the Louisiana Purchase...quite a resumé!
That evening we enjoyed some delicious fish tacos fried up by Tom using Alaskan Halibut sent from our good friend George McGuan in Alaska...so very delicious!
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The next morning I said goodbye to Tom as he went off to work and Anna and I drove out to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a hike and bike ride. She and May Bird hiked, I biked. Really nice views despite some clouds. It was great to get out and get some exercise in.
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Anna and I stopped for delicious sandwiches on the ride home before I packed up and headed further east. The Sullivans' home in Bolivia was a refuge for me when I needed a break, and their doors were always open. We shared many laughs and big hugs back in those days and nothing has changed. It was the perfect kickoff to the trip and I am forever grateful for their generosity, hospitality and friendship.
Onto the next stop!J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-61000165414035730842012-04-17T12:02:00.000-04:002012-04-17T12:02:06.725-04:00End of Radio SilenceGreetings Readers!
Well, this has without a doubt been the longest drought of updates in the history of the Story of Ben, it has been about a year and a half since I last shared anything here. I may put up some stories and photos from the last 18 months at some point, but for now I am just going to start fresh after briefly bringing you up to speed: I finished up my time with Shoulder to Shoulder in Honduras at the end of July 2011. I returned to Cincinnati where I moved in with my sister and her family in Norwood. I worked and saved some money, took a few trips and got involved in a few interesting projects along the way. Then I cut my hair (first real haircut in almost six years) and on April 2nd, 2012 I packed up my car (yes, White Rice still rides on...thanks to some engine work I will surely describe in a later post) and set out on the road. I first headed east through Virginia and DC, up to New York City, Philadelphia and State College, PA. From there it was onto Cleveland and Chicago, and I currently find myself in Minneapolis, MN with plans to drive to Colorado tomorrow. I will do my best to bring you up to speed on all of that in subsequent posts, as well as continue with more "live" updates as the journey continues...final destination TBD. I hope to entertain and update all those who wish to be entertained and updated.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7F_AG7w9KOriCsy4D1GwRBeHsSBgqnBLMknY8pZjoGnV4404BB4N1gzVqHtxFtUBjtH7klZuus-fyvEV1JLmMRgzD8n9iF73wDfyq9erBcnyj-ZFtbC8k1-R8LzRmBLPwExo0g/s1600/IMG_0072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7F_AG7w9KOriCsy4D1GwRBeHsSBgqnBLMknY8pZjoGnV4404BB4N1gzVqHtxFtUBjtH7klZuus-fyvEV1JLmMRgzD8n9iF73wDfyq9erBcnyj-ZFtbC8k1-R8LzRmBLPwExo0g/s320/IMG_0072.JPG" /></a></div>J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-45385074189878676942010-11-20T20:16:00.003-05:002010-11-20T20:38:39.428-05:00Back (b)Logs, May-November 2010Blog Faithful (if there are any more of you out there), <br /><br />Every few months I decide that I'm going to update this thing more often. I put up a few posts but then fall behind again. So here I am 5 months down the road from my last post and will attempt to do a little catch up here. I'm not going to say that I will try to update this thing more often, although I will. The thing is, life is often so hectic around here that it's almost not worth updating you all on the changes because it will just change again. Regardless, I've gone through the past few months and chosen some photos to help tell my stories. I have spent my entire Saturday reliving these past 5 months or so, and it has been fantastic. I am reminded of a conversation I had with my mom on my 20th birthday. I said, "Yeah Mom, I can't believe I'm 20. The second ten years went a LOT faster than the first ten." She chuckled a bit and responded with, "Wait until the next 10." As I close in on my 29th birthday, it couldn't be more pertinent. My 10 year high school reunion is this Friday. I won't be able to make it, but I will spend that evening remembering fondly the years I spent walking Oak Hills and hanging out at football games and at the Shack. Time keeps rolling on by. I'm lucky enough to be able to say that I feel like I've done quite a lot with the time that's been afforded to me. <br /><br />Anyway, back to the blog. Aside from a couple random updates in June, the last news I've given has been from around March/April of this year. Since then my boss has left, a new one has been hired and then fired, we've had about 13 brigades in and out of Intibucá and I've made three trips to Los United eStates. I woke up this morning wondering where November went. Then I thought about it and am now wondering where 2010 has gone. This has without a doubt been the busiest year of my life. I have the realest job I've ever had (not to be confused with "the toughest job you'll ever love"), hundreds of people have come in and out of our little world down here, some hang around in my mind, some don't. I rarely get to see my family but when I do I cherish the time and to me it really doesn't seem all that long since the previous visit. But then I realize Riley is doing new tricks, Maurie and Josh have a new house and my parents are taking on new and exciting challenges. A lot of things back home stay the same, but a lot of things don't. Well, without further rambling, read on down for some news. The first entry in this group is "America, Take 1" and they are in reverse chronological order from the bottom up...so if you're a timeline type person, start at the bottom. I'd suggest getting a cup of coffee.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrY5GClJMtBaol8uVZ4o63tLBu2SX2JkSzJXXACg-OYnZNI0q_vLphZcJW3AYovnM1CqDVsODPY_t3OCFP1GfjG3Hov1IgTyZ5BNE_R9-z_jxOSxF-XkQODNHiXs-YTlU08uSn-Q/s1600/blognov01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrY5GClJMtBaol8uVZ4o63tLBu2SX2JkSzJXXACg-OYnZNI0q_vLphZcJW3AYovnM1CqDVsODPY_t3OCFP1GfjG3Hov1IgTyZ5BNE_R9-z_jxOSxF-XkQODNHiXs-YTlU08uSn-Q/s320/blognov01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541646639132755970" /></a> My coffee spot each morning, watching the mist burn off...revealing the mountains above Santa Lucía.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-50784556847912918232010-11-20T19:08:00.003-05:002010-11-20T20:15:50.431-05:00A New Day Dawns (September-November 2010)When we last left our hero, he was full of White Castle sliders on plane having just enjoyed a fun night with his family. I rendezvoused in Houston with Art and Dick, two of our Shoulder to Shoulder muckity mucks who were headed down to do some assessment and re-organization. Shoulder to Shoulder has been growing at an incredible rate for the last few years, and these past few months have been no exception. Our recently hired national director was given the boot a week prior to their visit, so one of their tasks was to figure out how to keep things running without a big bossman. They had a whole host of other tasks as well. I'd say it was a pivotal point for StoS, but personally I feel like we've been at a pivotal point since I've been here and I don't see it ending soon. Ideas arise, new policies are developed and implemented, but the feeling of crisis mode does not often leave us. I do truly believe that the crisis mode is one of the things that keeps this job so exciting.<br /><br />It was truly inspiring to watch Art and Dick hammer away at their to-do lists. They are up before dawn running around in head-lamps until late at night holding meetings as their eyes get heavy. For a couple of guys in their 50s and 60s they certainly are a fine example of what life can be like if you take care of yourself when you're younger. All Dick needs is a cup of coffee now and then and he's good to go, Art will settle for some pancakes and a glass of water. Their 2-week visit marked the beginning of a new day, at least for me it feels like. My job is constantly changing, people coming under my supervision and leaving it...this entire organization has been one big experiment since its inception. Trying to piece it all together taking into account an seemingly infinite number of factors, Art and Dick are on a mission to make it work. For all of their time and effort, they are without a doubt a pleasure to be around. They've both got great stories and great life experiences that make you just want to be around them just to catch a tidbit here or a nugget there about any number of things ranging from oral surgery to cave diving. By the time they left, I myself was waking up at 4:30 to start working. I've since managed to sleep in a little longer, but not by much.<br /><br />They left us with a leadership team made up of 8 people, those of us who have been here the longest and who are most involved with different parts of the organization. The team will handle issues together, supporting one-another through whatever problems we might be having. Weekly meetings are a must, despite the hurdles of having people in 2 different sites an hour away from one-another and none of us with a ton of free time. <br /><br />So far things are humming along fairly well. There are certainly plenty of areas we need to work on but personally I feel like I have hit my stride. I have enough time here for people to know me well and work well alongside me. I know enough about where the org was before I got here, what it's been through since I've been here and where we want it to go to feel pretty confident we are moving in the right direction.<br /><br />The biggest change around here lately has been the huge influx of gringos in the past few months. In August we had 6 new volunteers arrive, in September we had 1 more and October saw the arrival of a new employee. Count them up, that's 8 new people to work with as well as live with...not to mention the fact that they are all female. Our living/working situation has never really been ideal or really healthy. And while each and every one of them are great people in their own right and all are here to work hard and help out, it certainly can make for a trying social dynamic at times. You start to realize why people around here tend to be territorial about their stuff and why others may not want to hang out all the time. Nothing here is our own, not even our personal space. It can ben challenging but it can also be fantastic. It is a great support network, especially for all of them who have arrived around the same time. And there is certainly plenty of work to be done that they are supporting with. <br /><br />Shoulder to Shoulder never ceases to frustrate or amaze me. There are certainly those days where you feel like the world is collapsing and that there is no way out. But there are other days where I am truly inspired to work my ass off to make this thing work. And of course there is everything in between.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-85604593216705349802010-11-20T19:04:00.001-05:002010-11-20T19:21:10.064-05:00"Let's All Go Home Again..." (America, September 2010)By the time September rolled around, I was very excited to get back to America and back to Ohio. My trip to seattle in May was excellent but you can't beat Ohio in the fall for my money. Also, I had not seen my niece and nephew for 9 months, which for little kids means you miss A LOT. Before I made it back to Ohio, however I took a few detours, borrowed a car and did some road tripping. From Hondo I flew into DC where I spent a fun couple of days with Joe Shultz. We went out for drinks and yummy food, he showed me his office downtown and I did some sightseeing of my own walking around the monuments. The highlight was definitely a Belgian restaurant with delicious food and even more delicious beer. I also managed to sneak in a quick lunch with my friend Lynn Walroth from high school, and Lynn was even kind enough to lend me her car to do a little road tripping. Despite nearly not making it out of the parking garage, I was soon on my way to Philadelphia to meet up with some of the old Sphinx crew for a wedding. We spent a fun few days in Philly...eating, drinking and being merry. Nathan was kind enough to lend me some nice clothes on which I proceeded to spill pizza sauce on. Sorry Nate! It was great to see the old crew again, just like old times, except for all of the smart phones everyone had, directing them everywhere. No one in America just walks around any more exploring. It's quite sad. Pero así es. Here is a shot of some of the gang at the wedding:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFlKUBk06flcK1XBb_b22DILNEkNuN5l9P6ST6FPR1bFE_AXs_mOm95L47jOHmM3ObS_Bv6yde5W9lciKstMIhItU6-sjChQBvH9vR4FSucNYCq7xlXJPv0UF0JiA2Ej9QyF8sQ/s1600/blognov37.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFlKUBk06flcK1XBb_b22DILNEkNuN5l9P6ST6FPR1bFE_AXs_mOm95L47jOHmM3ObS_Bv6yde5W9lciKstMIhItU6-sjChQBvH9vR4FSucNYCq7xlXJPv0UF0JiA2Ej9QyF8sQ/s320/blognov37.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541677574638916994"></a> Left to right: Josh, Nathan, Ben, Frank<br /><br />I hopped back in the borrowed Camry and headed back South. Around DC I turned West towards Charlottesville, VA. I arrived at the home of Tom and Anna Sullivan around 5pm. Tom and Anna are two of my favorites from the Peace Corps days...they had just had a baby a few months earlier and I was eager to meet little May Bird Sullivan. She was huge! Quite the chunker, truly. Anna beams as she says "she's in the 98th percentile for weight for her age." It was fabulous to hang out with them, albeit short. We checked out downtown Charlottesville and Anna, May and I took an excellent hike the next morning. We met up with Tom for lunch and then I made my way out of town back to DC. I got the car back to Lynn's place and she let me crash there before I flew out the next morning...back to Ohio!<br /><br />It was a packed trip while I was home. I got to see my sister's new house and was welcomed up to Caca's new house on the third floor by a very excited Riley Jo. I got see the legendary Harvest Home Parade, tailgated at OSU for the Miami game and even got to hit up Red River Gorge with my brother-in-law Joshua for some climbing. The weather was amazing at the gorge and the place was deserted. We had a fantastic trip...great climbing and good pizza from Miguel's. I suited up again for the Yidiots, shagging a few screamers hit to right field and even got a hit. Had a good time chattin in up with the yidiots on the wall afterwards as well, smoking cigars and regaling them with stories of the third world. Then I got some Skyline with Dad, can't beat that with a stick. Here are some shots from home:<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNGlsjHucPEaEzNgY7SeaHSxi1dPlhQ9y-dfUg2I-k7holFl41rCsOSA1G9z3egcsxe0K1SEB_LhY7uX6FPbC97CCE-2XvOUkL2AWvzsnhcZwKMtumzNlABdRAzOCenpucFEDeg/s1600/blognov32.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNGlsjHucPEaEzNgY7SeaHSxi1dPlhQ9y-dfUg2I-k7holFl41rCsOSA1G9z3egcsxe0K1SEB_LhY7uX6FPbC97CCE-2XvOUkL2AWvzsnhcZwKMtumzNlABdRAzOCenpucFEDeg/s320/blognov32.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541674602276050226"></a> The toughest crowd in Cheviot, the Ranzes! That bench and those chairs had been chained to the street sign for three weeks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtppbieZvfN2l8snFXVxyAgWkT0ibtJdFECuFmpUfVaxlfHz4ODSpFaoqILHOqo26bbC6OWsNqtqxAm0Fxur3SDZJftxcirVtXDmbk8jRb_bgzRg0srcxSxFsNiEzgDszapJQfg/s1600/blognov33.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtppbieZvfN2l8snFXVxyAgWkT0ibtJdFECuFmpUfVaxlfHz4ODSpFaoqILHOqo26bbC6OWsNqtqxAm0Fxur3SDZJftxcirVtXDmbk8jRb_bgzRg0srcxSxFsNiEzgDszapJQfg/s320/blognov33.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541674613602553138"></a> Greemaw and Riley Jo getting ready for the parade.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4JgcNx9m4wuVdVbStS2pRTe7bIRN4c7S1pJnIG4LDiFW7OeOmCTWP2zQ15FYUL0CVtVyF3Fd1nB8UXgnkVJRWDrlGWoeeq6Y88E3aqljtiJi665hDnATbzxwDqo9uYtIXhWLEQ/s1600/blognov34.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4JgcNx9m4wuVdVbStS2pRTe7bIRN4c7S1pJnIG4LDiFW7OeOmCTWP2zQ15FYUL0CVtVyF3Fd1nB8UXgnkVJRWDrlGWoeeq6Y88E3aqljtiJi665hDnATbzxwDqo9uYtIXhWLEQ/s320/blognov34.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541676365447031122"></a> Brothers Scott and Joe showing their support...not so much for the names on the cups as for the contents of the cups!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOuIh6yqGM1xStVKEwgDNJxeoPmQgPkOw7zgBWGa8CoDeFbY27xPtLIWiFMSGAoGFLN7EvLMVMzCmxhF3pdGNiCdxgdEU27yOr80hqBQzYeKL304ssDNwJEjpxE99hyphenhyphen1WWsxGPQ/s1600/blognov1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOuIh6yqGM1xStVKEwgDNJxeoPmQgPkOw7zgBWGa8CoDeFbY27xPtLIWiFMSGAoGFLN7EvLMVMzCmxhF3pdGNiCdxgdEU27yOr80hqBQzYeKL304ssDNwJEjpxE99hyphenhyphen1WWsxGPQ/s320/blognov1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541735487492650018" /></a> My nephew Conrad hanging out on the porch in Norwood. He's a ladykiller, this one.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbv-P-bc097fwCog8ndvQyUnxvGNqE8sDjtibL37lkWEwOhxND0HVrzKGhKXFAgQmJv33voRvp_hTSDaoOPk8XQgyeybhpqHYV9g1S9Cku-AnsOXxVl3vkVQncs8mgevHucIcog/s1600/blognov2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbv-P-bc097fwCog8ndvQyUnxvGNqE8sDjtibL37lkWEwOhxND0HVrzKGhKXFAgQmJv33voRvp_hTSDaoOPk8XQgyeybhpqHYV9g1S9Cku-AnsOXxVl3vkVQncs8mgevHucIcog/s320/blognov2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541735495130484994" /></a> The kids hanging out with Dad and Paw at the zoo...Joe was re-stucco-ing the inside of the flamingo house. Wild.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ5ke5cHcQzwhTNt-KoeXCUCiw-W4MYJ0JfatHxIEPB0KHTG6h-qiHbpgYr-H8TdsHnsaNNodonWdi05IJZWs-VGRSxVowl7O0ZvvpJ-4EyNX0943L59IrBWAxvQEfLYVjCBk9Q/s1600/blognov35.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ5ke5cHcQzwhTNt-KoeXCUCiw-W4MYJ0JfatHxIEPB0KHTG6h-qiHbpgYr-H8TdsHnsaNNodonWdi05IJZWs-VGRSxVowl7O0ZvvpJ-4EyNX0943L59IrBWAxvQEfLYVjCBk9Q/s320/blognov35.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541676383790147282"></a> Another one of Conrad at the zoo with his "Little Brother" hat...he and I have that in common! I will be the first to come to his defense when Big Sister is picking on him...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTnamp-Znn4Uj-ObNa0IBmP9oCUCHAHO5zl3tSN1LCTDJh413iO3N1Jf1ikFcsGobBNLTGI7DEXIOcTJOFcTJf2iyHCWswewlYp69CaY1fmzaA0T4WCyyBe72QQlOkLZDlxEuZA/s1600/blognov40.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTnamp-Znn4Uj-ObNa0IBmP9oCUCHAHO5zl3tSN1LCTDJh413iO3N1Jf1ikFcsGobBNLTGI7DEXIOcTJOFcTJf2iyHCWswewlYp69CaY1fmzaA0T4WCyyBe72QQlOkLZDlxEuZA/s320/blognov40.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541680162679868914"></a> The tailgating crew...friends from yesteryear at OSU: Tynan, Nathan, Josh, T, Amy, Ben, Joey...I got a bunch of crap for not wearing buckeye gear, but at least I had the right colors.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlp6igpS9bjaaWkpe7igArPWGiqdsv-yjSbvNdy1aj0uzoQEfRAvyhKZGVKVOG3OuEUDsGT1UceY6uQdZbCHbIiAK3vfsY-LZVK_UGAGmsANhfLcZ05khvcDrWZIDFfntdDYz7Q/s1600/blognov36.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlp6igpS9bjaaWkpe7igArPWGiqdsv-yjSbvNdy1aj0uzoQEfRAvyhKZGVKVOG3OuEUDsGT1UceY6uQdZbCHbIiAK3vfsY-LZVK_UGAGmsANhfLcZ05khvcDrWZIDFfntdDYz7Q/s320/blognov36.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541676392453470498"></a> While I was up at OSU I got to see the new student union for the first time...it was wild. The old student union was a place where I spent SO much time in college...and it was just this old run-down building...it did the job fine but this place was immaculate. I got a sweet tour from my new unofficial stater buddy Shannon Flynn, all the way to the Stater office! This picture depicts the bricks my friends and I bought to immortalize ourselves in the union, er, I mean support construction. Strung together the words under our names are a verse of our Alma Mater, Carmen Ohio. Sweet.<br /><br />Through a random and fortunate series of events, I also managed to cross another state off of my list. A last-minute road trip to Vermont capped off my time in Ohio masterfully...nothing like being spontaneous! I flew back to Columbus the day after getting to Vermont and shared a delicious El Vaquero dinner with some good friends from college. Oh man El Vaquero sounds so good right now. Anyway, dinner was with Suzi and Sean McClory who are expecting a baby next year (Congrats guys!) and David Morgan and Hannah Merril, who are getting married in June 2011. Dave and Hannah even let me crash on their wonderfully comfortable bed that night. The following morning I headed out to visit the Kreiners, Matt and Melanie who had just had a little baby named Jackson the week before...it was great to meet the little tyke and have a little coffee catch-up time with my good pal Matt. Lots of big changes for lots of people! I made back to Dave's house only to find out that my parents had forgotten to grab my suit on their way out of Cincinnati, which I needed for my cousin's wedding that night. Without blinking an eye David took me upstairs to his closet and started choosing and ironing things. Lucky for me I had been crashing with just about the best-dressed friend I have! This would be the second borrowed suit on this trip. My friends are incredible. I didn't spill anything on this one, though.<br /><br />So the whole motivation for this journey back to the states was my cousin Leslie's wedding. She and her now-husband Daniel had been engaged for about a year and a half or so, dating for many more years than that. I had been looking forward to this day for a long time. Not only for the part about celebrating Leslie and Daniel getting to spend the rest of their lives together, but also because it meant a super-fun time with my family. Living in Honduras means I miss most family functions, even the big ones like camping trips and 4th of July. So I was looking forward to making the best out of this one. It was a beautiful wedding at Franklin Park Conservatory in Columbus and we had a blast at the reception afterwards. Don't invite the Ranz cousins to your wedding, unless you want behavior like this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVslCEBs_POiBITYw2oWpndEEwJGtSYsIzUJk-NEV0l3UDnrcDXbtPWu6qDJqb5g50NjwWq5v39pBbkCfgJzfWMK58bIGw0v_AhtNnBnSLppeFmDlcY3qYmXooswNaEYHT1SVDg/s1600/boy+cousins.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZVslCEBs_POiBITYw2oWpndEEwJGtSYsIzUJk-NEV0l3UDnrcDXbtPWu6qDJqb5g50NjwWq5v39pBbkCfgJzfWMK58bIGw0v_AhtNnBnSLppeFmDlcY3qYmXooswNaEYHT1SVDg/s320/boy+cousins.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541736568566107122" /></a> Mike, Jason, Shane, Seth, Brad, Dave (hidden) and myself...exploring the foliage<br /><br />It was very fun to catch up with everyone. The shuttle took us back to the hotel afterwards and noticing that familiar hungry look in everyone's eyes, I took it upon myself to walk to White Castle and buy 2 30 packs of hamburgers. There was no other choice. I used my local knowledge (and sniffer) to seek out the closest CRAVE castle and they were ready surprisingly quick for 2am. I was hailed a hero amongst my family before we headed back to the hotel to grab a couple hours of sleep. The next morning I was on a 6am flight back to Honduras.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-85070343759984721472010-11-20T19:01:00.001-05:002010-11-20T19:03:29.529-05:00More Days In The Lives (Honduras, August-October 2010)A few more glimpses into our daily work and social lives here in Hondo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHajJCdpyhDdvUjTp17YgDG8n_TrQRsab0anVf0J_ibxq90DE1ioXKGrVgDg-NGDVq1evUoKxXNwnPSAJSTDhGQ1CsD4Yk0wLjnY1QreyJOkToxMlGswi2_EruWR3Eq2BMxKpyA/s1600/blognov31.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHajJCdpyhDdvUjTp17YgDG8n_TrQRsab0anVf0J_ibxq90DE1ioXKGrVgDg-NGDVq1evUoKxXNwnPSAJSTDhGQ1CsD4Yk0wLjnY1QreyJOkToxMlGswi2_EruWR3Eq2BMxKpyA/s320/blognov31.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541674597569857602"></a> Doña Lidia sometimes helps out our cooks and also washes sheets in the clinic. This is her with her grand-daughter in the clinic.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKUE6NtUUIkeVnEXaAyX7-i4cLdmzQYpWGaSlSQHvNSGZXzrf9dReUwLGXCvLu1sUaLDY4a6Kx9MGVtDAmQjVt0llljUa02e2xZla6uo69XUGQUIRQMFjfveB9NdJ4TUT4JdhlJg/s1600/blognov30.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKUE6NtUUIkeVnEXaAyX7-i4cLdmzQYpWGaSlSQHvNSGZXzrf9dReUwLGXCvLu1sUaLDY4a6Kx9MGVtDAmQjVt0llljUa02e2xZla6uo69XUGQUIRQMFjfveB9NdJ4TUT4JdhlJg/s320/blognov30.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666758236312786"></a> Don Tino is our head driver and all-around super star. Here we are loading up some nutrition supplement for delivery to San Pedro. Don Tino is a great guy and always has a smile on his face. Truly one of my favorite people I have met here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdOyIPJ99Eu1BkJUG53i5b1Ykq6tKjFuKA1_xSKssD_KdjPqK4rfrDgWoKOM-2SdTFKpQXSv83qU2pu_QfnPFE9uDt_2ncEGQ6ThGmXb-qtNM-m_3j-_aqJpvlPAujc5xpmXUyPA/s1600/blognov29.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdOyIPJ99Eu1BkJUG53i5b1Ykq6tKjFuKA1_xSKssD_KdjPqK4rfrDgWoKOM-2SdTFKpQXSv83qU2pu_QfnPFE9uDt_2ncEGQ6ThGmXb-qtNM-m_3j-_aqJpvlPAujc5xpmXUyPA/s320/blognov29.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665114154199842"></a> On the trip out with a brigade, we made a stop-off at one of our favorite oases, the Honduran Microbrewery. It's run by an Oregon Expat named Bob, very interesting guy. He had me eat termites once to try and cure my allergies. It didn't work. Left to right: Ben, Kerri (nutrition project manger), Sangeeta (superstar volunteer), Alan (database monkey)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKtzSn1mLicn3WKQf6vdGtsid9-fv5EZ7SmMvPS_p8uoOsLetYsIFZXqKuFoIjVkqQsUS1LkJMhjS-y1pLQWPI4jDwAhYq1AAfnFrNPfaurvsdgfiY329i-Ilw1ODP1NYUUdwNw/s1600/blognov28.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKtzSn1mLicn3WKQf6vdGtsid9-fv5EZ7SmMvPS_p8uoOsLetYsIFZXqKuFoIjVkqQsUS1LkJMhjS-y1pLQWPI4jDwAhYq1AAfnFrNPfaurvsdgfiY329i-Ilw1ODP1NYUUdwNw/s320/blognov28.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665106588967618"></a> In order to get some information straightened out regarding a water system that feeds a community where we work, our resident Civil Engineer Walter (foreground) accompanied Don Felipe (background) to walk the length of the water system. It was a good hike, informative trip and nice excuse to get out into the field.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAKsOy5QovfZi88_4MGsxKX6lGyBEENk0NCwhQUt1tEcNAW6h-T6VfrIv0QZWrzLvv6ZeWQrU7yx8x-nI3RxnUoRlS_Rnl7CLz2iBi-E5fhlAA4HN9hCzONwA9BTBe75k7hK2jw/s1600/blognov43.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAKsOy5QovfZi88_4MGsxKX6lGyBEENk0NCwhQUt1tEcNAW6h-T6VfrIv0QZWrzLvv6ZeWQrU7yx8x-nI3RxnUoRlS_Rnl7CLz2iBi-E5fhlAA4HN9hCzONwA9BTBe75k7hK2jw/s320/blognov43.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541686786952055010"></a> One of the most enjoyable parts of my job is getting to spend time with some amazing people. Here are two of my favorites. On the left is Dr. Emily Harrison from Brown University. Emily is on our executive board and has been the driving force behind the Guachipilincito clinic for the past few years. She snuck down for a quick 4 day trip and I acted as her personal assistant as usual. She is a true pleasure to be around, a great friend and mentor. In the middle here is Dr. Ed Zuroweste, quite possibly the coolest person I've ever met. Ed has more good stories than any other person I have ever met, including the one after getting rejected from med school in America, he applied and got in to Guadalajara University in Mexico, where he spent two years studying. The even more impressive part is that ED DIDN'T SPEAK A WORD OF SPANISH before starting med school in mexico. That's just the tip of the iceberg of Ed stories.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4eIfVM3ejpkPdKrFId4FiLafA7lZuDHehDbpgrThs0bt-np8inJ9HiiXvfy296H0dXshPrvqbtwPF0J7exQGD9rDlvb20K6VT6cpTPd2_L-OifzV3RUsgz_OZL78L5cRv2dTNA/s1600/blognov42.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt4eIfVM3ejpkPdKrFId4FiLafA7lZuDHehDbpgrThs0bt-np8inJ9HiiXvfy296H0dXshPrvqbtwPF0J7exQGD9rDlvb20K6VT6cpTPd2_L-OifzV3RUsgz_OZL78L5cRv2dTNA/s320/blognov42.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541680181684893538"></a> Another car issue. This is Marvin, our always jolly brigade coordinator. You can see his car had seen better days at this point. He made it to the shop (driving very slowly) where they welded the frame back together <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOoMpDKEQYV175dzlFpqCAbj4N2FVqsMz9aztB7rtoODPrVUbkGhbX0i1XNdO88AJUPEK0Zc1QFeje6QBiiaTmi7WkFMvHZjnivHPWojlrz6886qa20AM_Wq-lDGFD_AByjoqZQ/s1600/blognov38.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOoMpDKEQYV175dzlFpqCAbj4N2FVqsMz9aztB7rtoODPrVUbkGhbX0i1XNdO88AJUPEK0Zc1QFeje6QBiiaTmi7WkFMvHZjnivHPWojlrz6886qa20AM_Wq-lDGFD_AByjoqZQ/s320/blognov38.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541677582579941426"></a> So pretty much everything we have in our apartment is hand me down from the various people who have been in and out of Santa Lucía over the years. One example is this couch. It has been in this state since I arrived 14 months ago. After repeated inner-thigh injuries and the desire to sit comfortably to watch a movie, we recently finally took action. With some plywood, mattress foam and a couple of sheets, Alex and Jess have revolutionized our living space. We now have a comfy couch. See the next photo for the final product and happy gringos.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XeLFsncoGxVZJzb2_dreHmIupxyxv2uD3ML-nA1iMALktnllAf_QMkOY5-5mnNNVpKN-bwFbeztc9sFC8f2q4MX033ixoIVVwZa4M3e0yWaPw9ihEVvYkc5Hwf5Wwng0iwQX5w/s1600/blognov39.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-XeLFsncoGxVZJzb2_dreHmIupxyxv2uD3ML-nA1iMALktnllAf_QMkOY5-5mnNNVpKN-bwFbeztc9sFC8f2q4MX033ixoIVVwZa4M3e0yWaPw9ihEVvYkc5Hwf5Wwng0iwQX5w/s320/blognov39.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541677597783972978"></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Qwnq5yR6dJwstE__In4dmgspsub-NxoYVKfiLpDDreaz7vVnTq0VqUkuFo7LaSIM9mUC2gkrHm93MfHBxee2VeA_wzmN3ADu6gJlR765IhmiLHAMLe407WKtNh5NFUt-bvarzA/s1600/blognov26.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Qwnq5yR6dJwstE__In4dmgspsub-NxoYVKfiLpDDreaz7vVnTq0VqUkuFo7LaSIM9mUC2gkrHm93MfHBxee2VeA_wzmN3ADu6gJlR765IhmiLHAMLe407WKtNh5NFUt-bvarzA/s320/blognov26.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663316377776386"></a> I mentioned in an earlier post that trucks are what make us run. Well, this Ford Ranger has been the bane of my existence for a long time now. A few months ago the front differential took a complete dump and since there are no tow-truck services in Intibucá (possible economic opportunity here), we had to put the truck into our bigger box truck. I was skeptical. When I asked Don Tino how we would get it in the truck Don Tino responded with "haha Benjamín, that's the easy part! Getting it OUT of the truck is going to be tricky!" Damned if he wasn't right.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNSqjX-vQgYIP6ttSd3-Q3drwSkzDatuq2vF-BBtKIheKBTw3QxwXB1oDDme7nE6tCxT9g6teFyJvqKcOO6jozy3C9xNKluFkorai5oKxqUECZ_mUfCWHJeKFQzVh7T-Px2dg6w/s1600/blognov27.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNSqjX-vQgYIP6ttSd3-Q3drwSkzDatuq2vF-BBtKIheKBTw3QxwXB1oDDme7nE6tCxT9g6teFyJvqKcOO6jozy3C9xNKluFkorai5oKxqUECZ_mUfCWHJeKFQzVh7T-Px2dg6w/s320/blognov27.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665099048310930"></a> I didn't quite get the truck where it needed to be, so we called in the big guns to slide it over a tad so it would fit properly. Talk about Shoulder to Shoulder!J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-73477431642131464072010-11-20T18:59:00.001-05:002010-11-21T08:32:03.429-05:00Electricians (Kind of) - July 2010If you've been paying attention at all, you know that my job consists of a lot of different activities. One of those is co-resident electrician along with Alex. On my first trip to Honduras back in January '09, Alex and I assisted the man, the myth, the legend Gary Staigl in wiring our library in Santa Lucía and one of the cottages in Conce. Last October Mike Ranz and friends came down to do some more wiring in Concepción, where Alex and I learned even more. Well this time it was up to us to do it on our own, no outside expertise (except over the phone a bit). Our new clinic in Guachipilincito is getting ready to come online and so in July, with a little help, we juiced the place. With many phone calls, emails and scratched out diagrams worth of preparation, we had the makings of a good plan. Two gringos, Bob and Jim came down to lend their hands and we also had two of our local guys helping, Chepe and Tinito. Alex and I (with some help from superstar 6-week volunteer Sangeeta) spent Saturday and Sunday prepping materials and tools as well as hauling it all out to the site (about a 25 minute drive from Conce). By monday morning at 6am the hammer drills were rumbling and the pliers were nipping. The 6-person crew completely wired not only the clinic but the dorm building in 2 days, including running the service to both buildings from the "street." It was quite an operation and just in time for the gran jefa Emily Harrison to arrive, flip the switch, and illuminate the clinic she and so many others have worked so diligently to build. It was a huge success. We worked long days and were definitely worn out by the end of each one. But having coffee each morning on the clinic steps as the sun came up (again with superstar volunteer Sangeeta) helped make this one of my most memorable weeks in Honduras. These pictures may be a little boring for you non-constuction types, so perhaps just skip to the next entry. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-rGy5Owad14iL3F-0yGB-b80Dh1wwqpxwQG1soJiW-oSbmWvdzsd3k6rXwHNI672c9v7ftsBfUxtaEwDyQoNAcp6bDFlQbFd3ibgooNfEuZRHVnNMxXhazLYApWlQQSKpQh4hg/s1600/blognov22.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-rGy5Owad14iL3F-0yGB-b80Dh1wwqpxwQG1soJiW-oSbmWvdzsd3k6rXwHNI672c9v7ftsBfUxtaEwDyQoNAcp6bDFlQbFd3ibgooNfEuZRHVnNMxXhazLYApWlQQSKpQh4hg/s320/blognov22.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541660186459927218"></a> Respooling the wire (actually it's insulated armored cable) to avoid taking the entire huge spool out to the site. Alex would pull from the big spool (right), Sangeeta would guide the wire onto the smaller spool (center) while I ran like a hamster on a wheel spooling it onto the smaller spool. This took us 2-3 hours but saved us tons of time and headaches.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUJ74VtlaQye_13aLx6YzdWm5cmqSY3xvUeqVRwc5dwMaA5i8_7XBooua8vIlGh4WbLEH7PZ7VNsV1Hjx5fUFdB1gyCo5pcKxDIR9hmWknLsr2Su4Xw8K7_Leo2vjqdVDdV4oDA/s1600/blognovA4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUJ74VtlaQye_13aLx6YzdWm5cmqSY3xvUeqVRwc5dwMaA5i8_7XBooua8vIlGh4WbLEH7PZ7VNsV1Hjx5fUFdB1gyCo5pcKxDIR9hmWknLsr2Su4Xw8K7_Leo2vjqdVDdV4oDA/s320/blognovA4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541735907776108610" /></a> The re-spooled wire in action. we just parked the truck there all week long, pulling off however much wire we needed for that specific circuit. So nice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqgvLR9BnXo7DLP4a39pECdWR6PufPfjq_sjAjX0INbC9fq4ugNTgrtcpYSvj5XVLtl7CXsYBLIIJd87PEs_4k1ArxIk9angsNe3Ij3O8x7Pidn8FmIL23LtR8cVz1jrgivY0Xg/s1600/IMG_3225.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqgvLR9BnXo7DLP4a39pECdWR6PufPfjq_sjAjX0INbC9fq4ugNTgrtcpYSvj5XVLtl7CXsYBLIIJd87PEs_4k1ArxIk9angsNe3Ij3O8x7Pidn8FmIL23LtR8cVz1jrgivY0Xg/s320/IMG_3225.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541994961948713090" /></a> Another unbelievable loading job. We took about 5 loads of stuff out like this to prep for the job.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvweAy6k0YRPytBTEBiXN9a8o9UyWIBP8tL1sfSSOX63fwk6eZEr9BvblmdYyx34QOuk1lG7T5BnJtEjVPka9VsuY_R0NOv_XiSo4JDE9OVq667mdHQWl_8L0CxD48kyPhlHyIaw/s1600/blognovA1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvweAy6k0YRPytBTEBiXN9a8o9UyWIBP8tL1sfSSOX63fwk6eZEr9BvblmdYyx34QOuk1lG7T5BnJtEjVPka9VsuY_R0NOv_XiSo4JDE9OVq667mdHQWl_8L0CxD48kyPhlHyIaw/s320/blognovA1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541735527073858562" /></a> First steps in running the service line from the street through the meter and into the building.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAI_kvMkcIUyOtM8EwJXVnwWkjv9GZtqgBi3BQVp5-zPHtfonZR8JOF4A1zfkmDN72tDM6qL-o3MNWyP_O_AL0MuY397ZNNfRmpZxMVLQe1KUNg7oAKRS7Egf59lftsxnNq5HLg/s1600/blognovA2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAI_kvMkcIUyOtM8EwJXVnwWkjv9GZtqgBi3BQVp5-zPHtfonZR8JOF4A1zfkmDN72tDM6qL-o3MNWyP_O_AL0MuY397ZNNfRmpZxMVLQe1KUNg7oAKRS7Egf59lftsxnNq5HLg/s320/blognovA2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541735896172278978" /></a> Serious business.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNy5nyM0ewz8Nl2BbL8TrLHPHkt-diMFeZ9dwI2rqZXeSf_nYHCOdYQ1IrqoThHWIa2b-AFMHQCQ10ERmUx_20F42Ru9Jgzx2ZIW5ILxufYJWeE1YVhvDV13BZ2xe4JGmb9VMKWA/s1600/blognov23.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNy5nyM0ewz8Nl2BbL8TrLHPHkt-diMFeZ9dwI2rqZXeSf_nYHCOdYQ1IrqoThHWIa2b-AFMHQCQ10ERmUx_20F42Ru9Jgzx2ZIW5ILxufYJWeE1YVhvDV13BZ2xe4JGmb9VMKWA/s320/blognov23.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541660194784818802"></a> The finished service box. I put a lot of time into this and when I sent Tio Mike the picture, he informed me that I'd put it in backwards. No safety issue unless someone tries to remove one of the fuses, but I will still need to get out there and switch it. Regardless, it is still functional...lucky for me in Honduras there is no building code :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdp7y7mVNtpaois7E9NGi5D-fF0ChLf8ivh1GVVBmOBI-lDsHSgk_HZJov3BhcWEBX11F2ehmMFVn9csz7OnPWNqkWuOZ1mEv4sq9m4z0dxrpFg_iM8GD-Wjsun1_8DLs61gR3wg/s1600/blognovA3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdp7y7mVNtpaois7E9NGi5D-fF0ChLf8ivh1GVVBmOBI-lDsHSgk_HZJov3BhcWEBX11F2ehmMFVn9csz7OnPWNqkWuOZ1mEv4sq9m4z0dxrpFg_iM8GD-Wjsun1_8DLs61gR3wg/s320/blognovA3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541735898705398914" /></a> First steps on the main breaker box in the clinic. Alex has become our resident expert on these after intense training from Mike. See below for the finished product.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdXhlmnsYBBzA10yfF1mJwdm2FgcSu_S1TnExSeD-rniycQnSIYaxo2F1tMC6bPIFBMEtk_zADm9-8_6jPvsHWSrANz7njmIXqyKUamSAyTR2IWdR6Ga3J-59CnVcMIwu8_l57g/s1600/blognov24.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdXhlmnsYBBzA10yfF1mJwdm2FgcSu_S1TnExSeD-rniycQnSIYaxo2F1tMC6bPIFBMEtk_zADm9-8_6jPvsHWSrANz7njmIXqyKUamSAyTR2IWdR6Ga3J-59CnVcMIwu8_l57g/s320/blognov24.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663281786365026"></a> "If you don't want to be a nurse, you have a future in being an electrician." Mike to Alex. Well done.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2RkIKs6-bgmxwI_dRBhIOahJPsT4ZCceQ5LdjsBO-SZWw6p4lPRgR8uUNVZUpWIVtMaGMvBNHxaBB_oLJ21ct4DTLsUDxhZbnKzw9mH3bxPdUL4Nu35Z8UJRXHLENDoN2cCy-Q/s1600/blognov25.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2RkIKs6-bgmxwI_dRBhIOahJPsT4ZCceQ5LdjsBO-SZWw6p4lPRgR8uUNVZUpWIVtMaGMvBNHxaBB_oLJ21ct4DTLsUDxhZbnKzw9mH3bxPdUL4Nu35Z8UJRXHLENDoN2cCy-Q/s320/blognov25.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663296118096338"></a> During morning coffee one day we found a half dead bat in the clinic, likely having flown in and smashed into something. He was flopping around so I decided to put him out of his misery. With sledgehammer in one hand but careful not to spill precious coffee out of the cup in my other hand, I sent the bat to bat heaven.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzTCvncFaC6f04orxlK4nLWTmtMQo6WK2ToiRv4FPcweQlUxAjuKkK4KHMjzrv4dA8PHjhmMcYG2cpW1gEhc4xfcY35XkEZqERufTj4UZstauire45RJcI4orFmsfjr8DaN9NBg/s1600/blognovA5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzTCvncFaC6f04orxlK4nLWTmtMQo6WK2ToiRv4FPcweQlUxAjuKkK4KHMjzrv4dA8PHjhmMcYG2cpW1gEhc4xfcY35XkEZqERufTj4UZstauire45RJcI4orFmsfjr8DaN9NBg/s320/blognovA5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541736557616071986" /></a> Chepe fixing some of my wiring mistakes. "El jefe todavía no sabe!!" was the quote of the night that night.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDNRhF-kj80ANtMea_bqrtsgZT7-OxD9ODj72MOIh2UUm9X_N6WqWcIWYVyYi3ffe6AIz8YEEdNfOO8ExZRTcJtA9x_oytaPdc7SlwC495EP7-eUNjeM2xmCpC1JQgzWIW46yDQ/s1600/blognovA6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDNRhF-kj80ANtMea_bqrtsgZT7-OxD9ODj72MOIh2UUm9X_N6WqWcIWYVyYi3ffe6AIz8YEEdNfOO8ExZRTcJtA9x_oytaPdc7SlwC495EP7-eUNjeM2xmCpC1JQgzWIW46yDQ/s320/blognovA6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541736564287986978" /></a> The whole work crew minus 1. Left to right: Ben (notice appropriate "AC/DC" t-shirt), Bob from Rhode Island, Alex, Jim from New Mexico and Chepe from Concepción.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-10521432949295470772010-11-20T18:58:00.000-05:002010-11-20T18:59:24.104-05:00Un Pequeño Slice of Paradise - Utila, Bay Islands, Honduras - July 2010In July, some of us employees found a few free days after a brigade left and headed up North for some R&R. There are three main islands in the Caribbean off of the North Coast of Honduras...the most famous of which is Roatán. The whole area is known for cheap scuba diving certification but as Art would say "scuba diving is not something I would want to do cheaply." We had no hopes of diving, just enjoying good company, yummy food and some beach time. We went to the smallest of the three islands, Utila. It was a very strange place. Full of sun-baked (and another kind of baked) gringo transplants that drive around on golf carts and speak an eclectic Creole-type english. There are some true islanders there too. There is a lot of great seafood and plenty of opportunities to relax. We did not get too crazy, but we did take a "lancha" out to one of the isolated cays for some true caribbean beach time. Crystal clear water, crazy snorkeling, palm trees, coconuts, white sand...it didn't even seem real. Here are some photos to make you jealous:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8P2fZnU0bxJ9wl1_0b7r8NHA2Gy1JyeikystsQaqtgwf-Lv8Be-CBWU_FwEAaHXyBUro2nsm1CzOo9r8M2vGXLwQ2OhCXnmDq6dMct_Pkljq5BQf1-rJepvSWZ5MILadG3t4dgg/s1600/blognov15.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8P2fZnU0bxJ9wl1_0b7r8NHA2Gy1JyeikystsQaqtgwf-Lv8Be-CBWU_FwEAaHXyBUro2nsm1CzOo9r8M2vGXLwQ2OhCXnmDq6dMct_Pkljq5BQf1-rJepvSWZ5MILadG3t4dgg/s320/blognov15.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541657274378441042" /></a> Our hotel completely surrounded by water "The Lighthouse Hotel"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7_NDpZz1rm1unEV_uOKOMO8E3i7qIhM9QIwIuz1INIPzHV_WMt1AA6vkorJzJg7yePnGMifEyOUmIo1KtJof-7yQzzI0iHIX_xEb6S_W-D_JSKRQNt9Xvq0WNbtZr3DXvmExbg/s1600/blognov16.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7_NDpZz1rm1unEV_uOKOMO8E3i7qIhM9QIwIuz1INIPzHV_WMt1AA6vkorJzJg7yePnGMifEyOUmIo1KtJof-7yQzzI0iHIX_xEb6S_W-D_JSKRQNt9Xvq0WNbtZr3DXvmExbg/s320/blognov16.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541657283474267554" /></a> Sunset from our hotel deck. Nice<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaIS3y4vUxfbzvcGBV8GZlwJx1qI5b-S9GRFzdY8EDZm7TiVWdqzvYJkdnPQWv4OH8yEMYbQzYKLdkd1iiigFauPz2JW1Xra03gXo0rrDcPbDWmHO5buGUr-YLdogOctg5X8Qdg/s1600/blognov17.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaIS3y4vUxfbzvcGBV8GZlwJx1qI5b-S9GRFzdY8EDZm7TiVWdqzvYJkdnPQWv4OH8yEMYbQzYKLdkd1iiigFauPz2JW1Xra03gXo0rrDcPbDWmHO5buGUr-YLdogOctg5X8Qdg/s320/blognov17.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541657291486066338" /></a> The cays in the distance on the boat ride over<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-IHToO7DZ9tdUd9txOHLgQKzRLDrnO4Zp-8ljImQ0xKBun7mzVD69gj-mENqZv5OIUlzUWXUCluNKOvU516YeH7jE1qI3VK8erGJOu4bq9t3yGGAqQ22vHpoOczEqNmeI3d9QSQ/s1600/blognov18.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-IHToO7DZ9tdUd9txOHLgQKzRLDrnO4Zp-8ljImQ0xKBun7mzVD69gj-mENqZv5OIUlzUWXUCluNKOvU516YeH7jE1qI3VK8erGJOu4bq9t3yGGAqQ22vHpoOczEqNmeI3d9QSQ/s320/blognov18.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541658168312326594" /></a> Water Cay, our day of paradise<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YRUaN87VY0Z0lKQ2C_ZaMvzpTW4lA0W3Kfape6dzhZjwvkiMoa33cp1EyB4xuGyzrAB29hu9OX6Ep5oMLOAqvXN64y9pwK_lq_4v_z3VmjIikccR9yncu7OvZHx0xmpfCwuL_Q/s1600/blognov19.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YRUaN87VY0Z0lKQ2C_ZaMvzpTW4lA0W3Kfape6dzhZjwvkiMoa33cp1EyB4xuGyzrAB29hu9OX6Ep5oMLOAqvXN64y9pwK_lq_4v_z3VmjIikccR9yncu7OvZHx0xmpfCwuL_Q/s320/blognov19.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541658189012040226" /></a> Underwater Camera! Sweet!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnlIrexsfn2XobPy6jVVhfDBENX6rRX4A0yQPRYMhTMi88LRDYMciLS4pGW49IQPHwvoQIPv-52bwzCY4JXkxCyBq4CW4-ApUdaPc7_CbL4kwHN3es-hr2fbLWB6cbdDDlY0joA/s1600/blognov20.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnlIrexsfn2XobPy6jVVhfDBENX6rRX4A0yQPRYMhTMi88LRDYMciLS4pGW49IQPHwvoQIPv-52bwzCY4JXkxCyBq4CW4-ApUdaPc7_CbL4kwHN3es-hr2fbLWB6cbdDDlY0joA/s320/blognov20.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541658200215873170" /></a> Los Merro Musculeros de Hombro a Hombro. Alex designed his tatto himself. Ben grew his hair himself.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-56868269247291401442010-11-20T18:56:00.001-05:002010-11-20T18:58:12.736-05:00A Few Days In The Life, Summer 2010These pictures capture a few random moments of life in Honduras working for Shoulder to Shoulder. One of our many mantras is: "Shoulder to Shoulder: Nothing like your old job!" <br /><br />Enjoy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ggGXRbgGWuN_aG9bBMXNepyGIT2WM_usr5zjhk6_8m1V6ugh2SVDk9VwNoSfVPVCrFonPcVHKteXFIVA7WOVfHhrRtPC89Yk1jZ-1hcBNGvNNdiB2aNnfJp40lHXirhC7YR_OA/s1600/blognov05.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ggGXRbgGWuN_aG9bBMXNepyGIT2WM_usr5zjhk6_8m1V6ugh2SVDk9VwNoSfVPVCrFonPcVHKteXFIVA7WOVfHhrRtPC89Yk1jZ-1hcBNGvNNdiB2aNnfJp40lHXirhC7YR_OA/s320/blognov05.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541648458237201778" /></a> How's that for a load up job, Dad?<br /><br />Trucks are a big part of our life here in Intibucá. They are the key to our work, without them a lot of it comes to a stop. The general state of our organization can be linked directly to the general state of our trucks. It never fails, when there is a trip planned somewhere, we never leave enough space for what actually needs to go. An extra person or box here or there can really cramp the ride more than one would think. For example, in the photo above, I had planned on taking 3 or 4 brigade members to be dropped off along the way and a few tools to install a ceiling fan. Well, two nurses hopped on at the last minute, we had to drop off a few boxes of medications and I hadn't accounted for needing a ladder (which was silly of me, how else were we going to put up the fan?) So all told it was 10 people, a few boxes of medications, a ladder, some drills and who knows what else. Loading and tying skills are ones we value very highly here at StoS.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqH0PZOI8WLGD2tcIymiWZcfAEZuPYOTx_iR3csx2DDxLDgm37rJ9hIaSQoHLrW5WgpuC3zXGrHatIQzxrpFeoK2jsk-njimSz7KzUUarvTAVygGyIgRIhImEOvPonGWLHLwyXQ/s1600/blognov02.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnqH0PZOI8WLGD2tcIymiWZcfAEZuPYOTx_iR3csx2DDxLDgm37rJ9hIaSQoHLrW5WgpuC3zXGrHatIQzxrpFeoK2jsk-njimSz7KzUUarvTAVygGyIgRIhImEOvPonGWLHLwyXQ/s320/blognov02.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541647798582734018" /></a> Indiana Brett? It is often the case that evenings are slow around here. Well the excitement for this night was that Brett shaved his beard down to a fu-man-chu. So we decided an Indiana Jones hat and machete were in order to complete the creepy outfit. How would you like to have this guy showing you around Honduras? At least he is prepared!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Eg- xoRvkAYQ/TOfozAubYPI/AAAAAAAACVA/j51Zu1FlMKM/s1600/blognov10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNGFZEJia4VeQJz8GqWuq2rsQ2mWS3Oy_G7C6BjMG15v0rMWBOLblOmWucFEPX1I0bVxu1VaCGcp2XTQ0YOXIiPqxl-2zDeYgiLgQo4vRj7C58lTH663q-9PNVPBBVHhBiLbH5Q/s320/blognov10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541653829568389362" /></a> Dead snake on the road No. 1<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtt-mImPgyM78SHvhtqIKv6b80HH-ATNmfOaGAhyphenhyphenh5nmHPIAlxYZBpCptJg8VyfG84uj4eryG2FtF-ZvU_AXbhgeN8r17qgySWIIoTHtGgs62AEs-TyEzoWz8pumyfT0C-95V6AA/s1600/blognov21.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtt-mImPgyM78SHvhtqIKv6b80HH-ATNmfOaGAhyphenhyphenh5nmHPIAlxYZBpCptJg8VyfG84uj4eryG2FtF-ZvU_AXbhgeN8r17qgySWIIoTHtGgs62AEs-TyEzoWz8pumyfT0C-95V6AA/s320/blognov21.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541660137727982114" /></a> Dead snake on the road No. 2<br />I have yet to determine whether or not these snakes get run-over or if they get killed in the bush and people throw them onto the road. But I have seen this various times. And they usually have their heads cut off. I feel like I remember seeing pictures of a snake like the first one in books or national geographic and if I remember correctly, it's pretty poisonous. This does not bode well. Looks like we caught that second one just after thanksgiving feast!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbu2lWRwEWVHjssF1eitMSMMdBDEMW25-k4QXqosZKmXApLmpR27noDb0HLQTWzMyr0ORqtKX0dWpn3wGRG2hPcq7nJ1r4sSfGfd0X7vAMw11wmLkJtv0eKP27iDIFoDCfEnC1A/s1600/blognov11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbu2lWRwEWVHjssF1eitMSMMdBDEMW25-k4QXqosZKmXApLmpR27noDb0HLQTWzMyr0ORqtKX0dWpn3wGRG2hPcq7nJ1r4sSfGfd0X7vAMw11wmLkJtv0eKP27iDIFoDCfEnC1A/s320/blognov11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541653838174687010" /></a> Lazy afternoon. Caught one of our brigade members enjoying a relaxing afternoon in her hammock. Thought it was a cool shot with the storm brewing in the distance. I could certainly use a few more days spent like this!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMUfgIsYKmCHxnOiazs8P-G4RclK4wy1x6PvcAjN2DO2iwC98TohmckJBH7inMOTe35TAJ2UyCvuRKlbl8XGh3B9WUYiHCgJJ5p0-F8Vg4gofxhMd1yDV00F6tUC6K7p_dyYqTg/s1600/blognov12.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMUfgIsYKmCHxnOiazs8P-G4RclK4wy1x6PvcAjN2DO2iwC98TohmckJBH7inMOTe35TAJ2UyCvuRKlbl8XGh3B9WUYiHCgJJ5p0-F8Vg4gofxhMd1yDV00F6tUC6K7p_dyYqTg/s320/blognov12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541655790959294290" /></a> Honduran electrician...I would say this is a dangerous job but we have determined that the electricity here is not strong enough to kill anyone!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtq9-A_Pngc5ytD9w5RRTIAZTFTwFeKlEy50FAzthoTzt603DVGKYSW-TKdNp0ndIx-EWvQ-Ud7r2qWjw7HuH8E-yGM52lU5zppkNaiX4oUnKc-ptIsZQGFZJogCLIeyzkdyzbQ/s1600/blognov13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtq9-A_Pngc5ytD9w5RRTIAZTFTwFeKlEy50FAzthoTzt603DVGKYSW-TKdNp0ndIx-EWvQ-Ud7r2qWjw7HuH8E-yGM52lU5zppkNaiX4oUnKc-ptIsZQGFZJogCLIeyzkdyzbQ/s320/blognov13.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541655808344868514" /></a> Garbage Day. The Rumpke Dump of Concepción. Not the most fun task around here. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpZesCRNSZ3BRBPpWBlXrBLXJHoMUsUhxOG0CPOF6IV9SDjit8vaaQn4_OfKS0etqmeL4CoPT-eNVxIhq3bW1ekdfSHX79FkJ7Y-3uQ0woXKwKruuTDzss6aWpvFy2AWW0seFlg/s1600/blognov14.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpZesCRNSZ3BRBPpWBlXrBLXJHoMUsUhxOG0CPOF6IV9SDjit8vaaQn4_OfKS0etqmeL4CoPT-eNVxIhq3bW1ekdfSHX79FkJ7Y-3uQ0woXKwKruuTDzss6aWpvFy2AWW0seFlg/s320/blognov14.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541655816833685730" /></a> The Three Amigos. Brett, Alex and Ben. This was Brett's last night in Honduras. He headed out in mid-july after a super-fun brigade which included his mom Mo and a bunch of other fun people. Brett's exit was a pretty big deal for us, as he is a constant source of laughter for all of us, keeping us perhaps a bit saner than we'd be otherwise. Brett is headed off to Ohio State to finish up some pre-reqs so he can eventually enter med-school.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-18585872956363029602010-11-20T18:50:00.002-05:002010-11-20T19:01:38.643-05:00America, Take 1 - May 2010After a fun brigade from UPenn in early May, I traveled for about two weeks to one of my favorite places, the Pacific Northwest. It was somewhat of a last minute trip, only planned a couple of months ahead of time. I felt myself needing a break and figured a way to see both my family and great friends while there. My endlessly generous relations Mike and Linda Ranz welcomed me into their basement yet again with open arms. I spent summer 2003 with them in Seattle and have been looking for excuses to get back ever since. While the weather wasn't quite as nice this time as it was back in '03, it was a much needed respite from Honduras. I spent the entirety of 2 or 3 days sitting in their wonderful kitchen getting caught up on a few things and drinking espresso from the espresso machine. I then headed down to Eugene, Oregon for a surprise visit to some of my best friends, Kirk and Kim Strohman. Kirk was graduating from Law School and I was glad I could make it to the festivities. It was a good surprise, Kirk came in from working in the yard to find a strange bearded dude holding his 9 month old baby, Sienna. His jaw dropped, gleaning the effect for which I was hoping. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNp6r-hA5JzL6t8ZL2CsQ0VxNpk68HYUwltKXR_2784sp3Pc88rrpO-lFArX2ZFBWE3qs3MGiJ9Q49iNRcX67bVAgBU7BX1dZicFzSiNLUTURIMI88_MF2rbFWrqoK5_c4PGTTA/s1600/blognov04.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNp6r-hA5JzL6t8ZL2CsQ0VxNpk68HYUwltKXR_2784sp3Pc88rrpO-lFArX2ZFBWE3qs3MGiJ9Q49iNRcX67bVAgBU7BX1dZicFzSiNLUTURIMI88_MF2rbFWrqoK5_c4PGTTA/s320/blognov04.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541648450999997762" /></a> Ben and baby Sienna. Adorable. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzifYdEDKAYtKjRP-149dZ8D3LhSVRw3rgm8tkeg9D0WeNXyzrD7cjHYrks6BppsMzxDaznAWvARBHtNoyXPMUFprvxi-BrxxydQj_MqOj2mwXBhmG2J1QXs6Da0aNsVW6Pzz_Q/s1600/blognov03.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzifYdEDKAYtKjRP-149dZ8D3LhSVRw3rgm8tkeg9D0WeNXyzrD7cjHYrks6BppsMzxDaznAWvARBHtNoyXPMUFprvxi-BrxxydQj_MqOj2mwXBhmG2J1QXs6Da0aNsVW6Pzz_Q/s320/blognov03.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541647811003338562" /></a> Snowshoeing with Kirk, a nice outdoor respite. So nice to see some snow.<br /><br />The weekend was spent with his family and friends, enjoying good food and good times. I then headed back up to Seattle. <br /><br />My parents flew in a couple of days later for a trip out on Mike and Linda's boat. This was quite the journey. They flew in late at night and we went straight down to the dock and slept aboard what some might refer to as a "ship" rather than a "boat." The plan was to head up through some of the San Juan islands, meet up with some friends, and eat A LOT. This was all accomplished with flying colors.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWRy1l8AHJ9l9pfe1TjNzGDt8aUXZWlRzT0uEb30wO3H6Tv28-fAAoqojr9uHncAGiFsCZwsc6CbcisgMqoH2BjMLEpbg6wtshyphenhyphenZCjbXxV_j6xb56Aj4k3g9ypLQDtckVM3TbZg/s1600/blognov06.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiWRy1l8AHJ9l9pfe1TjNzGDt8aUXZWlRzT0uEb30wO3H6Tv28-fAAoqojr9uHncAGiFsCZwsc6CbcisgMqoH2BjMLEpbg6wtshyphenhyphenZCjbXxV_j6xb56Aj4k3g9ypLQDtckVM3TbZg/s320/blognov06.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541649757780146194" /></a> Mike Ranz multi-tasking: Setting course, building power plants and having a beer.<br /><br />It was a quite relaxing few days. We went ashore to do some hiking and ice-cream eating, but most of my time was spent reading and eating in between beers. We met up with Penny and Lee Stycket, some old neighbors of Mike and Linda's, who were also out on their boat. They are fabulous folks and it's always a pleasure to get to spend time with them. Lee is an enviable pun-master, dropping lines left and right like "I kissed a nun once, but I just couldn't get in the habit."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMw9ylGUynACyDQO7YfPYpM1NRxKnpHBgkFrH-p0JTtDUUeqPwI2VWZw4BZn9IsB0VgjxPvew5MIFYXdZGbNHTEDquOGVX0NkPUQwgeLIsMukNV1bn6KK7dxwPxIneHRzw2e_Alg/s1600/blognov08.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMw9ylGUynACyDQO7YfPYpM1NRxKnpHBgkFrH-p0JTtDUUeqPwI2VWZw4BZn9IsB0VgjxPvew5MIFYXdZGbNHTEDquOGVX0NkPUQwgeLIsMukNV1bn6KK7dxwPxIneHRzw2e_Alg/s320/blognov08.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541650979875012610" /></a> Penny and Lee at dinner ashore. No seagull sandwiches here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6VmmJvAEoa5hPP7wu0lrdBYOoaGGhuCC491yP7BYRq9_9BPfbMhlJdVw_qJC2u922xmCIc1tg77IT6iRnnY4f71ySCE-5vrPf9rfDXqfWmNb-tVCVfDXojbQ_mnKTSijnKJ1BA/s1600/blognov07.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6VmmJvAEoa5hPP7wu0lrdBYOoaGGhuCC491yP7BYRq9_9BPfbMhlJdVw_qJC2u922xmCIc1tg77IT6iRnnY4f71ySCE-5vrPf9rfDXqfWmNb-tVCVfDXojbQ_mnKTSijnKJ1BA/s320/blognov07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541649767264078802" /></a> The whole crew classing up the yacht with cans of Natty Light, per Joe Ranz's special request.<br /><br />After a couple of days in the islands, we dropped anchor for a night in Bellingham, a hippy college town a few hours north of Seattle. We hung out with some of Linda's family, visited her favorite college coffee joint, and also ran into a Peace Corps friend of mine, Anna Terry. Anna was participating in the "Ski to Sea" race which had its finish in Bellingham. It was nice to catch up briefly, we also hung out in Seattle for a night while I was there.<br /><br />Upon our return to Seattle, a whirlwind 24-hour visit had been planned with my Ohio State pals: Kirk, George and Joe. These guys never cease to amaze me...upon hearing that I would be in the country they rearranged work and family schedules to squeeze in some quality time...the only 24-hour time period where it worked out for all of us to hang out. The boys came to pick me up at Mike and Linda's and we headed downtown where they had gotten a hotel room. We scalped some 2nd row tickets to the Mariners' game (nice work GW and Kirk) which was a good time. It turned out it was Ken Griffey, Jr's last game, which was a random coincidence since he was kind of my childhood hero. I don't think he even played, but still. We then went out for drinks and fried food, and spent the evening catching up. Taking a page out of our old OSU days, we decided we needed some late night food after the bar. With no Pita Pit in site, we made our way to a 24-hour grocery store where we purchased 2 dozen deviled eggs. We all regretted this choice the next morning, as did our hotel toilet.<br /><br />We spent the day walking around town, enjoying the market and just hanging out. My parents came down to town that evening and we had an amazing meal at Anthony's on the Sound. I'd venture to say it was the most delicious seafood feast of which I've ever been a part. I was in a truly happy place, with my parents, best friends and delicious food. We took a walk along the water afterwards before the boys took my parents and me to the airport. And thus ended the journey to the states and began the journey back home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY8ORQljcMD0dan3zL5sggPx8IWOgA3sXn87QG4M6gQCxatRDxw2LDraRPEmESmZinPpFN1mawxZYTzoVI7gHpNyctY1yo1IvLTntSyJicwsaol6pehhRhdmOAaN_uhFYFXXq3g/s1600/blognov09.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY8ORQljcMD0dan3zL5sggPx8IWOgA3sXn87QG4M6gQCxatRDxw2LDraRPEmESmZinPpFN1mawxZYTzoVI7gHpNyctY1yo1IvLTntSyJicwsaol6pehhRhdmOAaN_uhFYFXXq3g/s320/blognov09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541650987987998210" /></a> The group along the pier after dinner. I look fat because I ate so much seafood at dinner.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-61405283477970659242010-06-30T22:10:00.004-04:002010-07-01T00:01:14.996-04:00A Doosy Of a Day, Even For HondurasSometimes I am just floored by the days I have here. They never cease to amaze me. Today had more twists and turns than the main road here. I will to my best to re-tell.<br /><br />Standard morning. Up about 630, having set the coffee maker to have my joe ready when I wake up. There are few things finer. This morning was a local coffee, grown and roasted by an Oregon ExPat named Bob who owns to my knowledge the only microbrewery in Honduras. I sat down with my coffee and wrote down in my little book what I did yesterday and wrote a couple of emails to friends before heading down to breakfast. Last week we had 25 high schoolers plus 15-20 regular people who work and eat here. These days, it is quiet with no brigades and many people out of the clinic for various reasons. Our cook María is super contenta with only having to cook for 8 people. This also means plenty of freshly squeezed OJ for everyone. Me gusta.<br /><br />I sat down to my desk to attack some emails and wait to see what the day would bring. Around 8 or 9am I get a phone call from Mo, our stateside brigade coordinator who has just arrived last night to Honduras with a few others and along with her son Brett (who works here too) they are doing some traveling around Honduras in a rental car. They are a little turned around and need directions...with the limited knowledge of the city that I have, I navigated them through the streets of San Pedro Sula. Actual excerpt from our conversation:<br /><br />Mo: We're driving towards a mountain.<br />Me: Does the mountain say Coca Cola on it?<br />Mo: (after asking around in the car) Yes.<br />Me. Ok perfect, turn left. There will be a Popeye's Chicken on your right and then after a while a Hilton Hotel. Turn right. This is where Brett and I had to bribe the cops, he will remember it.<br /><br />So that was fun, and I actually thought that would be as interesting as my day got. Wrong.<br /><br />Not long after I got off the phone with Mo, the power went out. Kerri Kruse is the latest addition to our gringo team down here, an MPH from Jersey/UNC who is running our nutrition program. I ask if she's familiar with starting the generator. She says no and decides to come along to learn. We shut down the computer servers and make sure all the air conditioners are off. Then it's down to the generator, check the oil and fire her up. The machine rumbles as it comes alive. While we're doing this, a truck full of people in the back zooms up the driveway. I don't think much of it, it's not uncommon for emergencies to arrive like this. <br /><br />However this one was quite interesting. Turns out some guys had been working on building a house. This guy was standing on a roof handling some re-bar, which he brought too close to a high-voltage electrical line and got seriously zapped, lighting his clothes on fire and throwing him from the roof. Now here is where it really gets potentially interesting: It was during this exact moment when the power had gone out. Initially I thought that he was for sure the cause of it, but just then got a call from some people in our site 16 miles up the road, and their power was out as well. So without understanding quite what happened or knowing the exact physics of it, it seems as if WHILE this guy was being electrocuted, the power went out, potentially saving his life! The jury is still out on whether he cause it or not, but I find it somewhat (but not completely) that this one guy at the end of the electrical line could have caused the entire power outage.<br /><br />Our docs treated him and sent him in the ambulance to La Esperanza, a bumpy, hot 3-hour ride to the next big hospital. While I was downstairs I ran into Flori, our accounting assistant. She had some problems with salaries that we needed to figure out. So I spent the next 2 hours or so reviewing checks and spreadsheets to find the errors and get things cleared up. Normally this would not be my job but Nelson the accountant is on vacation so there I was. Just as we were finishing up, I get a call from Don Tino, my head driver. He is on his way back from La Esperanza, having left the night before to take a different emergency. He is calling because the ambulance driver (his son, also named Tino) has run into some problems. This is the driver that has taken the burn victim in the ambulance. From what I understood from Tino, some bolts had fallen out of the gearbox of the ambulance. This did not sound good. <br /><br />So Big Tino met Little Tino on the road and swapped out the patient from the ambulance to the pick-up truck that Big Tino had been driving on his way back. Little Tino then continued with the burn victim to La Esperanza and Big Tino headed to a nearby town to try and repair it.<br /><br />I finished up with Flori and accounting and then had a meeting with Alexis, one of our newer employees. We have yet to really clearly define Alexis' role, so up until now his job has been "ok Ben, what do you want me to do next." Which neither he or I like but we are trying to make do. We were just sitting down to start planning the wiring plan for our newest clinic, which we will be working on at the end of July. Again the phone rings. It's Mo again, calling from the road. Seems as though while Brett was driving on the way to Copán Ruins, a tire fell off the rental truck. As they were riding along, they all of the sudden saw a tire rolling away from their car...which then ran into a passing cyclist. I couldn't make that up.<br /><br />So then I began a whirlwind of calls that included the car rental company and a few other people. I got Mo and Brett in touch with who they needed to talk to, knowing they'd have to wait a while before another rental car could be sent where they were. Kind of stinks they had to miss out on a day of vacation basically. They were upbeat about it though, saying that their day was "Ruined."<br /><br />I sat down to a lunch of Fried Rice with Doris and Kayla, a nurse and doctor who just started working for us a few weeks ago. They gave me their olives which I was very happy about. I headed back upstairs for my afternoon siesta, about 20 minutes long. I then sat back down with Alexis to try and working on the wiring plan when I get a call from Don Tino, my driver. He tells me he's coming upstairs to see me. I knew something was up because Don Tino never comes up to my office. <br /><br />Turns out I completely misunderstood Tino when he told me what was wrong with the ambulance. Not only that, what he thought was wrong with the ambulance was not actually the problem, it was actually a much bigger problem. So what I have been referring to as an "ambulance" this whole time is an early 2000s Dodge Ram pick-up outfitted with a camper-like fiberglass box on the back to carry patients. It has a stretcher in there, a place for an oxygen tank, a place for an IV, etc. It also has no air conditioning and very little ventilation, so it makes for a pretty hellish ride on an awful road. This fiberglass box is extremely heavy and like every other thing on earth, was not designed to withstand what the roads of Honduras had in store for it. Over time, the top-heavy box (which is attached to the bed of the truck) had pitched and yawed back and forth so much, that the ENTIRE BED had broken off from the frame of the truck. So try to picture it in your head. This big huge box is attached the truckbed. BUT, when you move the push on the bed, lifting it up from the suspension, the whole body does not move, just the bed and the box. The tire stays exactly where it was, showing no stress that it is being pushed on. <br /><br />In order to fix this, the first step is to remove the box from the bed. This would require some honduran ingenuity the likes of which even I had never seen before. Using rope, pipes, 2x4s, a car jack, some plywood, a barrel and an ancient patient stretcher and a lot of pushing and shoving, we managed to get this thing out of the bed and safely supported on the stretcher and barrel. Here are the steps we followed:<br /><br />Step 1: inside the ambulance box are a few release pins...fairly straightforward, remove them<br />Step 2: Using the tire jack, raise the back end of the box from the bed of the truck<br />Step 3: Run honduran rope over the ceiling perlines (like joists) and suspend the box from the ceiling and remove jack. Trust honduran structural engineering.<br />Step 4: Plan on using barrel to "roll" the box out of the bed onto the ground<br />Step 5: Place metal pipe in bed between box and bed to facilitate movement<br />Step 6: With two people pushing and lifting on the front of the box, drive forward very slowly, allowing the box to slide out a bit at a time<br />Step 7: Realize that the barrel method is not going to work. Reach for the closest next best thing, an ancient stretcher, slide it under the front end of the box, and use the barrel upright and plank to hold up the back.<br />Step 8: Lower the rear end of the box off of the rope and onto the barrel, move rope to hold up front end of the box using the same hanging method<br />Step 9: completely remove truck, leaving the back of the box supported on the barrel/plank and the front hanging by the rope<br />Step 10: Raise ancient stretcher up using the raise handles that work due to some miracle, raising it up to meet the box and take the load off of the ceiling and the rope.<br /><br />Words cannot begin to capture the ridiculousness of this process. It was truly unbelievable. Here is a picture of the rest of the team:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCFgV63apCwZCcvhQFWoBc1P_rnRxMbXxe2PMwaCrGx6-jLwBd7IxuRcw2T5nGlC8h-DkvAoypdmbZW1Iu5auZXbxuN2udsqzQTvsGmnIhULicIilYfJkeHJJ50V_Zd1wuNoVXw/s1600/IMG_3086.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLCFgV63apCwZCcvhQFWoBc1P_rnRxMbXxe2PMwaCrGx6-jLwBd7IxuRcw2T5nGlC8h-DkvAoypdmbZW1Iu5auZXbxuN2udsqzQTvsGmnIhULicIilYfJkeHJJ50V_Zd1wuNoVXw/s320/IMG_3086.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488779580374557634" /></a>Left to Right: Don Tino, Don Nato the guard, Alexis<br /><br />And here's a photo of the final product. Priceless.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xdXwRmeRkQGMRvjf5lqffEw3ZVkuGCJignzBDZzFI5LcJ0S_kwbc_NDXg3H0PTrUXQtgjEm9ipbSEpPKmANr7AntEqXUsYtZIVApgG38GNMG2StRpZm5tqYvdU05MOOutp70ng/s1600/IMG_3094.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xdXwRmeRkQGMRvjf5lqffEw3ZVkuGCJignzBDZzFI5LcJ0S_kwbc_NDXg3H0PTrUXQtgjEm9ipbSEpPKmANr7AntEqXUsYtZIVApgG38GNMG2StRpZm5tqYvdU05MOOutp70ng/s320/IMG_3094.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488779583910592146" /></a><br /><br /><br />Throughout this entire day, the power had not come back on. The bad news was that we were out of fuel for the generator and I was pretty sure it wasn't going to last much longer. Literally at that moment, the low rumble of the generator stopped and the fans stopped spinning. Don Tino had hardly finished tying off the hanging ambulance box when I sent him to bring some diesel from his house to lend us. He promptly headed out and was back in a jiffy. We loaded it up and bled the lines like a good mechanic does when the fuel runs out and we were back in business. The power finally came back on around 8pm tonight, so at least I don't have to worry about finding more fuel.<br /><br />Never a dull moment around here.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-84577630320673010302010-06-13T10:29:00.003-04:002010-06-13T11:27:12.245-04:00The Same But DifferentIt's Sunday morning in Concepción. It's been raining all night, and for a good while there it was pretty torrential. All the roofs here are made of corrugated tin, so even a light rain sounds like a herd of thundering rhinoceroses (or rhinoceri for all you Hanauers out there). With a heavy downpour there is little hope of talking to anyone you may be with, so we've gotten pretty good at sign language.<br /><br />Sunday mornings here are just about the most pleasant part of my life in Honduras. Our clinic here has not opened yet, so there is no hustle and bustle, no babies crying downstairs, no one telling me that the internet isn't working. The view from this back porch is immaculate; brilliant white fog burning off the mountains as the sun inches higher in the sky. It has been raining pretty steadily for about 6 weeks now, so the white of the fog contrasts nicely with the bright green of the newly refreshed plantlife that covers the nearby hills. A nice hot cup of locally grown coffee and some Avett Brothers coming through the speakers and I am about as content as can be. I remember really loving Sunday mornings in Bolivia as well...it's almost as if it's the only time anymore that I feel like is really my own. That sounds bad but I can't help but think it is true. Living in the same place I work with the people with whom I work makes it feel like every moment of the day belongs to Shoulder to Shoulder. By no fault of theirs mind you, I think it's a combination of there being so much work to get done and not too many other ways to pass my time. Throw in my "everything needs to be working properly" mentality and it adds up to a lot of time spent on Shoulder to Shoulder. Even our post-work conversations end up being about community development or how to improve this project or what would it be like if we started doing that...this creates the feel that we are indeed ALWAYS working, although we may not be sitting at our desks or distributing water filters or whatever. A good friend asked me the other day how I feel about being a "development professional." It made me chuckle a little to think of myself as a professional anything, but that has marinated a little bit and I guess even though we don't dress nice or have to commute or worry about TPS reports, we kind of are professionals. It's got me wondering whether this could be a "career" or not. <br /><br />So that amongst other things is what is on my mind this lovely sunday morning. I am not sure if folks even stop by to check in on this blog anymore...with all the iphones and twitter and all that it's almost like a blog is passé, especially one that doesn't share news or opinions. Nevertheless, I want to start updating it more and hopefully develop a refreshed following. You all may start hearing more ranting and raving about work, but know that having this outlet to rant and rave perhaps keeps me a little more sane. I do have a lot of fun stuff to report on, including 2 weeks spent in Seattle, hanging out at a Honduran microbrewery and playing cornhole inside until my arm was sore. But for now I just hope you've been able to enjoy this Sunday morning porch as much as I have. Toodle-oo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DB7HpqS6Gc_iAcshVRrjaVqx2YLwR9YQmuxwDbWPrR4TOA9BrbE0O4Dstqy9upwJn8U4ys4DhsNAdKppzLBfIhSYs9oa71t_Z-obO7fW40mejGNrRzCZ9htz5sgvp78pq1Rhgw/s1600/IMG_3045.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DB7HpqS6Gc_iAcshVRrjaVqx2YLwR9YQmuxwDbWPrR4TOA9BrbE0O4Dstqy9upwJn8U4ys4DhsNAdKppzLBfIhSYs9oa71t_Z-obO7fW40mejGNrRzCZ9htz5sgvp78pq1Rhgw/s320/IMG_3045.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482275247821049954" /></a>J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-89309621597678116622010-06-11T17:43:00.000-04:002010-06-11T10:04:16.614-04:00Por Fin<div>Hello friends...so I've had these photos uploaded for a while but just now am getting around to adding commentary. I'd like to get better at updating this thing but I've been saying that pretty much since I started it so we'll see. It's not like I don't have anything to update on, I just haven't made the time. So with the hope of more frequent posts, I leave you with some photos I hope you enjoy, in no particular order. </div><div><br /></div><div>Be well.</div><div><br /></div><div>-This video was shot during the consult portion of one of our children's brigades with some nursing students from the University of Cincinnati. I walked in and was struck by everything going on at once...4 or 5 consults, translating, mothers waiting, kids being attended to...I think the video does a good job of showing the awesomeness of what was going on.</div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwuFXu5pQdwJJnea8Ib-e5Yiu0QQfFvnqWV580KiarQM-4ADDOxkxeKGUT9GQa9gMyldPUJIuDWyQI' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;">A group of us moving a satellite dish. The drama with satellite dishes is never-ending it seems. Believe it or not I've learned a good bit about satellite dishes while down here. I've mostly learned that I don't ever want to see another one again.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_7lIRdPCKSruh8H8oVQiherVyIiVFd99Tvel_R_ItLbmW1hyphenhyphen5M45gCRuEy77oIpDVhxd-phHX654g7N3s-gbT9shOpWwEmeVmMqsVqB4R2Tjq4EFNAVD0ca4tOCFtrUosjZFVw/s1600/IMG_2794.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_7lIRdPCKSruh8H8oVQiherVyIiVFd99Tvel_R_ItLbmW1hyphenhyphen5M45gCRuEy77oIpDVhxd-phHX654g7N3s-gbT9shOpWwEmeVmMqsVqB4R2Tjq4EFNAVD0ca4tOCFtrUosjZFVw/s320/IMG_2794.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469150292651573426" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Below is a group photo from March of an awesome brigade made up of nursing and nurse practitioner students from both the University of Kansas and Montana State University. We had a LOT of fun with this group and saw over 1000 kids in the week they were here. Even better I now enjoy drinking my morning coffee from an excellent Montana State mug. Thanks guys! (what you don't see in this photo is me holding approximately 75 cameras. This is standard practice with most groups, as it seems few people grasp the digital age.)</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVelWy0DCSek_4FV-3zlpm1dulkiaL-A1-lgMtKJXu11NHfbEzGEVDe-uq_b1frfP-hzp8GO3O2DDr8mrLG6bcZaip6GJOJG_mc1NYnwnLK1tGne7Md-MfJkaMC6abgwV9-S4_Q/s1600/IMG_6812.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVelWy0DCSek_4FV-3zlpm1dulkiaL-A1-lgMtKJXu11NHfbEzGEVDe-uq_b1frfP-hzp8GO3O2DDr8mrLG6bcZaip6GJOJG_mc1NYnwnLK1tGne7Md-MfJkaMC6abgwV9-S4_Q/s320/IMG_6812.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465829564886278850" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the view of our clinic "campus" in Concepción. For the last 20 years our main base has been in a town called Santa Lucía, where I live. Soon the base will move to this new, more cenral location, while maintaining a strong presence in Santa Lucía as well. We inaugurated these buildings in February and will finally start seeing patients in July</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVAJVdM2fVNGl7Y2mANlnA4e-6vhzecwAdFt1FWs-5FOJxkDcX7djVDAKjwGLZp70ofcuwRPCP23VIgblCVuPTXo3G9zb4Za3LtX7tfuZD9SIRW-i49rr5sL4Hd1XxivTr1pRrGg/s1600/IMG_6939.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVAJVdM2fVNGl7Y2mANlnA4e-6vhzecwAdFt1FWs-5FOJxkDcX7djVDAKjwGLZp70ofcuwRPCP23VIgblCVuPTXo3G9zb4Za3LtX7tfuZD9SIRW-i49rr5sL4Hd1XxivTr1pRrGg/s320/IMG_6939.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465828547242129778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A quick ten-minute hike takes you up a hill to a great 360-degree view. A group of us from the Kansas/Montana State group made the short journey and got a somewhat rare clear shot of the mountains in the distance.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsDCOPA8IjXgqEpiRr4nWKZstUOghwHyeiuyYiLyQftnfuuPds18RfbdLuB4e26efs7Rj-mEXGBMhiiu0TzA1D7Xh_5iFEllgL6yVJiflo9JGLK0l5qSV58evgNmz3Fsy4VqK2Q/s1600/IMG_6963.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsDCOPA8IjXgqEpiRr4nWKZstUOghwHyeiuyYiLyQftnfuuPds18RfbdLuB4e26efs7Rj-mEXGBMhiiu0TzA1D7Xh_5iFEllgL6yVJiflo9JGLK0l5qSV58evgNmz3Fsy4VqK2Q/s320/IMG_6963.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465828539223494754" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">My good pal/co-worker/roommate Alex hanging out with Tina. Tina works in the UC College of Nursing and brings lots of groups down throughout the year. Alex first got involved with Shoulder to Shoulder through one of these brigades, so in a way we have Tina to thank for that. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIU32TnSzBFf0NjMyOJFAee6Iv7lmfYUZAjNQinR9U4UB8ujqNUg1LJEStqAWNEpB-0WXi_Dx_mT1ykk2Muxze8XR5W1u6q_znTCKjeie3h6FACpPv-EaNSwRbdeNMBvYfRULVA/s1600/IMG_6516.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIU32TnSzBFf0NjMyOJFAee6Iv7lmfYUZAjNQinR9U4UB8ujqNUg1LJEStqAWNEpB-0WXi_Dx_mT1ykk2Muxze8XR5W1u6q_znTCKjeie3h6FACpPv-EaNSwRbdeNMBvYfRULVA/s320/IMG_6516.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469149991745702514" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Playing with the same satellite dish you saw earlier. This is not a staged photo, this is my Honduran version of a blue-tooth so I could talk to Art and still use both my hands. If it's one thing the third-world teaches you it's how to make useful things with little resources available.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5c7K1UKv51WFpAbUPwXMk-vAz9UftrdGEu8UBaZ2Hyn5-1lYXefI2OaHYbP6Vvb5NwQ7xOS49Q6datRUEGFL9ZheszWVoh1zVsYGnABQ3XSm_7o-JDIFHaZa-n1AVz8Jk1xf0yw/s320/P3200548.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465827409044330994" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Students waiting at a Children's Brigade to be seen. A group of 12-20 brigade members show up to a school with the goal of doing well-child visits with all the 0-15 year olds. It's a great way to hit a lot of patients at once and utilize the skills our brigades bring down.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbExUr5848geM90Hg9j1EKDq1C5nwIHnzbjorJQAYa-ueAmbgUC5FI2erXhyphenhyphen-Kbx6rjuCzm-mt-MU4nHW-3sE1vHK7ls3Xx-O3MTqV3vcFL9BWiXee_4clBQ6k764HCdDGN6dqw/s1600/IMG_6449.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbExUr5848geM90Hg9j1EKDq1C5nwIHnzbjorJQAYa-ueAmbgUC5FI2erXhyphenhyphen-Kbx6rjuCzm-mt-MU4nHW-3sE1vHK7ls3Xx-O3MTqV3vcFL9BWiXee_4clBQ6k764HCdDGN6dqw/s320/IMG_6449.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469149998218269906" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is the sunrise after a very early-morning hike up a mountain in Santa Lucía. I need to do this more often, it provided some hard-to-find peace and quiet for a little while. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkH6rciuJlXxE36c27nZ8Iti0jP-Ad326Q9IiVeHnhOJnUBoM46uNKefYQSpte5xfZP_mBrSuC_Evd8wcY51ZY7yCHwGQSHSECA9hORUREuT5klhS0pyZiPyygOyRHdUO8fwIqmA/s1600/IMG_2853.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkH6rciuJlXxE36c27nZ8Iti0jP-Ad326Q9IiVeHnhOJnUBoM46uNKefYQSpte5xfZP_mBrSuC_Evd8wcY51ZY7yCHwGQSHSECA9hORUREuT5klhS0pyZiPyygOyRHdUO8fwIqmA/s320/IMG_2853.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469149551191783394" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A group of our employees after work enjoying each other's company. All are from Santa Lucía or nearby. I just thought it was a really cool photo. From left to right: Doris, Gisela, Norma, Mercedes, Raúl</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdP-Z_rNWnQW6UH1SidXjEwfIrJdFeilTwWDextyOkhrueIykHvjjgOCbYm4jufylfW3IYlMy4v0iDRKNPku0NhtBoaTg36aVMkps_fgWWpoomC2yWaEOkmuAl4VeO4kUgxqrQWQ/s1600/IMG_2504.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdP-Z_rNWnQW6UH1SidXjEwfIrJdFeilTwWDextyOkhrueIykHvjjgOCbYm4jufylfW3IYlMy4v0iDRKNPku0NhtBoaTg36aVMkps_fgWWpoomC2yWaEOkmuAl4VeO4kUgxqrQWQ/s320/IMG_2504.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468766578353786210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We can get pretty goofy down here sometimes. A lot may stem from us being delirious...or we're all just hilarious, who knows. While setting up the newly constructed maternity center in the clinic, we found that the first baby to be born in it was quite mature! From left to right: Edgar, Brett, Alex, Seiko, Janell</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZckmID1Y7H9OQQoPIrdbz9mZdQrXAH3m2G9RO6RBIzwWazN6DD7QeBWMNqfgnO4TEg0mO1SjAuTt_lPJlUNGzMyE2DGUkYTdcS47RRjx6RnUUL4DOoQwRdEoSQMxC41C4ktHcQ/s1600/IMG_2531.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZckmID1Y7H9OQQoPIrdbz9mZdQrXAH3m2G9RO6RBIzwWazN6DD7QeBWMNqfgnO4TEg0mO1SjAuTt_lPJlUNGzMyE2DGUkYTdcS47RRjx6RnUUL4DOoQwRdEoSQMxC41C4ktHcQ/s320/IMG_2531.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468766214042189218" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">During our clinic inauguration in February, the Honduran minister of Health showed up in his chopper, covering everyone with dust. If you look closely you can pick me out in the back of the red pick-up on the left. I'm the guy with the hair.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVrasiE-x249AJO3KrHg_GzDGUtPpcj4AJnL_ozQWjwAqb1zLf2tRJkVela1N6eYY-lTFXj36WWwdvozNbndfB42h-hXqmG3ZS6sQYWacpHUrgI9_lif6ej6d3ob5uL7eT7R-4Tg/s1600/_DSC3043.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVrasiE-x249AJO3KrHg_GzDGUtPpcj4AJnL_ozQWjwAqb1zLf2tRJkVela1N6eYY-lTFXj36WWwdvozNbndfB42h-hXqmG3ZS6sQYWacpHUrgI9_lif6ej6d3ob5uL7eT7R-4Tg/s320/_DSC3043.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468766196889293090" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cheap repair of the power-steering pump hose. I took a page from the book of Bolivian engineering and wrapped the hose with some rubber (like a bike innertube) and then wrapped with some duct tape. This was in February and it's still going strong.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56ELNywFi2XEL7JKPSUMm-_JtvrAuZt3JVmwO0T5qgK0YXtkTAHD7QMkPorzZocmHYiBWNaotRJErt2PZZlWdsQsuBv7OLTS2jgopJe31No_VUb6AEZHc9l78QyCuWPn9maFtDw/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56ELNywFi2XEL7JKPSUMm-_JtvrAuZt3JVmwO0T5qgK0YXtkTAHD7QMkPorzZocmHYiBWNaotRJErt2PZZlWdsQsuBv7OLTS2jgopJe31No_VUb6AEZHc9l78QyCuWPn9maFtDw/s320/IMG_2741.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468766193844144770" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The porch in one of the cottages in Concepción. This is where I usually crash when I have to stay the night, there is a great cool evening breeze and you can't beat the morning view.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwEhLdjDpeTJU9_V9CE2k70YDeNdHCxg8cKKL4X0sbuNoSjZiorEVccIm1X6GHtflHH5MXietwUY_Hvb9Jjz1OfpGwENhMh4WeRwyA53yGfnKL6UF-5gAmsU642LVjRAUwssgijg/s1600/P1040556.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwEhLdjDpeTJU9_V9CE2k70YDeNdHCxg8cKKL4X0sbuNoSjZiorEVccIm1X6GHtflHH5MXietwUY_Hvb9Jjz1OfpGwENhMh4WeRwyA53yGfnKL6UF-5gAmsU642LVjRAUwssgijg/s320/P1040556.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468766183035818434" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Inauguration day with Art and Ed Zuroweste. I look grumpy likely from not sleeping. Ed has not shaved his beard in over 30 years, it's something to shoot for.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJk6LCOVXRD-KYX16K0CLfIIiAt6c7K5x0_BUt6C5wB2KqRlStzf2ms6ryq8Qv817jhXyVHeZS5xinFW08x38vG068a5ekHLPjhWi_c3EICbG6eYhPGoADi02YP6S6BhsZzjG6cA/s1600/_DSC3069.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJk6LCOVXRD-KYX16K0CLfIIiAt6c7K5x0_BUt6C5wB2KqRlStzf2ms6ryq8Qv817jhXyVHeZS5xinFW08x38vG068a5ekHLPjhWi_c3EICbG6eYhPGoADi02YP6S6BhsZzjG6cA/s320/_DSC3069.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468766175379869618" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Emerging from the helicopter dust.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHujioBm3woop_ZVl-rpnTfoXRg1-Qm71otMxj9kR_DaC69RBnf7vxrcOtmSn3OdG_6DWlX2gZAD90BeP7N-OkqVOnT72wmFZJr-8S6y3fuC7c3_wW-NUoNEBUD6jZ-5pK7LqCkg/s1600/_DSC3054.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHujioBm3woop_ZVl-rpnTfoXRg1-Qm71otMxj9kR_DaC69RBnf7vxrcOtmSn3OdG_6DWlX2gZAD90BeP7N-OkqVOnT72wmFZJr-8S6y3fuC7c3_wW-NUoNEBUD6jZ-5pK7LqCkg/s320/_DSC3054.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466538700078667170" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This photo captures what I've come to expect as a typical day when there's a lot going on. Computer open looking at email, coffee closeby, on the phone probably talking to one of my drivers about where he's headed next, in the midst of a meeting with the excellent Dr. Emily Harrison, head of our affiliate group from Brown University. We are putting the finishing touches on an outlying clinic her group built, having raised the money all on her own. Emily bought her way into my heart with gifts that included a pound+ bag of M&Ms and a Brown University hat! It was a good day.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwasgnou4zm-qO2-B6ZCXOQZcRGpjjLoYIAM0L8EMDgP04CMcGNx7_RugtiTHB0w-o6EMIHHdV7KBF5-Pr2t-ue-ctoUMAOXz1aAeCIRyEK6FwvZ5pRjfYO7pkSVCRv828SB-ig/s1600/_DSC3168.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwasgnou4zm-qO2-B6ZCXOQZcRGpjjLoYIAM0L8EMDgP04CMcGNx7_RugtiTHB0w-o6EMIHHdV7KBF5-Pr2t-ue-ctoUMAOXz1aAeCIRyEK6FwvZ5pRjfYO7pkSVCRv828SB-ig/s320/_DSC3168.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466538698976537890" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ranzaganza in Honduras! Left to right: Ginger, Art, Brett, Me</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiAg_dmhdDF6naMbs-Q57lvtcqZ8W_cGBzYEoL5uPHPGffaMzfZ0Va07E1EQjrdrXj5Q1Sl_pOgVqnI5S3sctxhlYFF6OAyRpcXoNVRs8uf-ofLvwVsFuWS2UwP8s2f5q7e79yw/s1600/DSC01150.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiAg_dmhdDF6naMbs-Q57lvtcqZ8W_cGBzYEoL5uPHPGffaMzfZ0Va07E1EQjrdrXj5Q1Sl_pOgVqnI5S3sctxhlYFF6OAyRpcXoNVRs8uf-ofLvwVsFuWS2UwP8s2f5q7e79yw/s320/DSC01150.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466538687926958434" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the company of some good friends on a non-school night. We are quite the dysfunctional loving family down here. From left to right: Yaniré, Edgar, Juan, Janell</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKwjE6Oa2tj2uV12E8a8oW6iYIXmXcd3_eo4u2tRPiAuhV4GGV-Bz3yWQtIkkUlsjj8BuxKOysVb_ptzKmHYZH00AN_8c1ARXgnoJV1erhHQZMa3wbqdUdEe7psdef48CP3-qiw/s1600/24085_10100123617271915_12433613_54428497_3715785_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKwjE6Oa2tj2uV12E8a8oW6iYIXmXcd3_eo4u2tRPiAuhV4GGV-Bz3yWQtIkkUlsjj8BuxKOysVb_ptzKmHYZH00AN_8c1ARXgnoJV1erhHQZMa3wbqdUdEe7psdef48CP3-qiw/s320/24085_10100123617271915_12433613_54428497_3715785_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466538685382259106" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The day of the inauguration there were guards that showed up with the Minister of Health. When asked if I could borrow his machine gun for a quick photo, the guard did not hesitate and had it off of his neck in no time. I'm highly confident there were no bullets. Either way, Alex makes a great security guard.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6ic2ZkDvoRx7OEPv5cdU1B1zawkpILA9FCdja689pyhVJx1XNZzu4qtK5sj0vgCZKWiBUK-_IXHnJMqFRMA8VqnB4J_AfP_0ZyTxl4ruj4koIy1IUgq43DMODFiDYfIlGpVJYA/s1600/P1040599.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6ic2ZkDvoRx7OEPv5cdU1B1zawkpILA9FCdja689pyhVJx1XNZzu4qtK5sj0vgCZKWiBUK-_IXHnJMqFRMA8VqnB4J_AfP_0ZyTxl4ruj4koIy1IUgq43DMODFiDYfIlGpVJYA/s320/P1040599.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466538680766740642" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Nearby the Concepción clinic is a great little swimming hole with an excellent waterfall. There is a great jumping rock and a good place to stand to get a water-massage. If it looks like I'm on the phone, it's because I am...I'm pretty sure I was in the midst of getting a truckload of 21,000 pounds of nutrition supplement across the Guatemala border into Honduras. Just another average Sunday here at Shoulder to Shoulder.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcniGuMFsi2UTUBCTbjgUMFUs5aXxBWHEyr8f01Jr_r3guycixqRhEZm9QcHZwcnf35Qft8Y3Wq_CpO8y60Z2jPH15pZD_VH9J5UVwK_hxJug6lNo_fZ9EnIK42j9-luf8BZ_Cw/s1600/24085_10100123624731965_12433613_54428769_8262879_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcniGuMFsi2UTUBCTbjgUMFUs5aXxBWHEyr8f01Jr_r3guycixqRhEZm9QcHZwcnf35Qft8Y3Wq_CpO8y60Z2jPH15pZD_VH9J5UVwK_hxJug6lNo_fZ9EnIK42j9-luf8BZ_Cw/s320/24085_10100123624731965_12433613_54428769_8262879_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466537717050193346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Brett and I managed a little R&R in early March...this was our stash of goodies before we set out. The trip included fresh seafood, driving for hours through trees and across rivers up a dark jungle road, bribing police officers and also stumbling upon an excellent find: a micro-brewery run by an Oregon ex-pat. Needless to say we have visited multiple times since this discovery.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRoDcSnj2A4mzUvzjpaHgZWXKDfO_uWK0YYganYGXxwCWYdxIcMyg8sHxn4p32RyiIM1fUdmGiPOKpONphA0WV5Fr2ry8WD9zPU1y9wM3Pr8qrHhH80yfUSlZJRPnJmkhMIJtcw/s1600/IMG_2749.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRoDcSnj2A4mzUvzjpaHgZWXKDfO_uWK0YYganYGXxwCWYdxIcMyg8sHxn4p32RyiIM1fUdmGiPOKpONphA0WV5Fr2ry8WD9zPU1y9wM3Pr8qrHhH80yfUSlZJRPnJmkhMIJtcw/s320/IMG_2749.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466537712271793106" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Also on said journey we saw this sweet waterfall. Please note awesome braids in my hair from the beach!</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUB1z9h_UT5u_F0VPjrVTEgTDupJwjYwqG04I3_A1UY4JYWK4R0C3xltg7TUz9tSJ-fUpuh2VaWIJRa_gDWCSgvoDKjpBqEff4q8ovlYiuKXgEosMHAhBtcXJZ4mIlBPbugNXKPg/s1600/IMG_2762.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUB1z9h_UT5u_F0VPjrVTEgTDupJwjYwqG04I3_A1UY4JYWK4R0C3xltg7TUz9tSJ-fUpuh2VaWIJRa_gDWCSgvoDKjpBqEff4q8ovlYiuKXgEosMHAhBtcXJZ4mIlBPbugNXKPg/s320/IMG_2762.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466537706400864210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Kansas/Montana State crew giving consults on Childrens Health brigade.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KqziN64dNNFZ6zuVPShHZcMdIFtTAq0tf0Wm1gz48ku9GYvQjH6qW4LfoIGl1bKxAAfBp_P1AQhMEeGoTnZR4x_QB6B1sQDoxlMvww-hdg-x32hOufBLHgpt-BTcZ8nGmq9S8g/s1600/IMG_2812.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KqziN64dNNFZ6zuVPShHZcMdIFtTAq0tf0Wm1gz48ku9GYvQjH6qW4LfoIGl1bKxAAfBp_P1AQhMEeGoTnZR4x_QB6B1sQDoxlMvww-hdg-x32hOufBLHgpt-BTcZ8nGmq9S8g/s320/IMG_2812.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465829570499061170" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is our new friend Alicia, a Honduran Peace Corps volunteer from Seattle. Her site is near the aforementioned micro-brewery and through a random connection we managed to meet her. Alex and I got to do some hiking with her and her dog Chelsea around easter time.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc0yPwQEzCTq5_6-KpLPUrSfd0WhssWcKnQUWPTDuhn91H7Lvxo1XZsgLHjyVqfe2FEO56GQpuRSfkBY5OtZt1ww20RZxO9Rfu4Tkq2on4N-r-hwJLQlmUL-7sH-tYPls6HC0Efw/s1600/IMG_2835.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc0yPwQEzCTq5_6-KpLPUrSfd0WhssWcKnQUWPTDuhn91H7Lvxo1XZsgLHjyVqfe2FEO56GQpuRSfkBY5OtZt1ww20RZxO9Rfu4Tkq2on4N-r-hwJLQlmUL-7sH-tYPls6HC0Efw/s320/IMG_2835.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469149558045195122" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>These photos only take you up through early April, and so much has happened since then. All of this seems so long ago now...it's crazy how the time flies on by...</div></div>J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-86558528906688161542010-01-30T16:59:00.004-05:002010-02-01T10:00:55.061-05:00A Friday Full of Big DealsGreetings be to all from the hot southwestern corner of Honduras! The dry season is in full swing here which means lots of dust and heat, little breeze and no rain...for about 6 months. It also means that every once in a while we run out of water here at the clinic. Nothing worse than getting in the shower and expecting to be hit with nice refreshing shower of cool water on a hot day only to find that we're out of said water. Usually it means going down to the kitchen and flipping the pump on and waiting about an hour, which usually isn't too bad. María the cook also finds it endlessly hilarious that I traipse downstairs in my towel. But, I've come to learn that María finds most of our gringo habits endlessly hilarious.<br /><br />I have unfortunately become very bad at putting up blog posts. Back in the Peace Corps days I had a good excuse...the closest internet connection was a 3 hour, bumpy, muddy/dusty bus ride away. But here that is no excuse, we have wireless internet all around and I can literally sit in my bed and do this. Of course I always thought that it would be nice when I was in Bolivia, but the truth is, I find that it keeps me confined to these walls a lot more than I'd like.<br /><br />So yesterday was a pretty unique day, even for third-world Honduras. It started out in a fairly ordinary manner, freshly ground coffee on the porch around 6:30am, filling out my little book of things I did the day before. I think I had Jimmy Buffet playing. I made sure all our cars went out on time and sat down for some breakfast...refried beans, scrambled eggs and some white crumbly cheese all washed down with some freshly squeezed orange juice. We don't have a lot of luxuries down here, but delicious coffee and freshly squeezed OJ are two of my most favorites. I made small talk with Dra. Rosbinda at the breakfast table and then headed to my office to start the work day. My commute is not a long one, perhaps 25 yards from where we eat. I share my office with our medical director, Dr. Juan. The room was originally supposed to be storage space so it somewhat resembles a prison cell with air conditioning. The floor is a sorry concrete job and the walls are unpainted. It's not quite as nice as Ainsley Hayes' steam pipe distribution closet in the West Wing, but there is also a ceiling fan.<br /><br />The first task I need to dispose of quickly is to cancel my health insurance plan. I recently purchased a year-long insurance plan that covers me internationally, so my current plan with Humana does not need to continue. Since they usually automatically withdrawal the money at the beginning of the month, I want to cancel before they take the money out. I hop online and head to my bank account to make sure they haven't done it yet. Imagine my surprise when next to the words "Current Balance" I read "$13.00." Wha wha wha?? "I knew I was keeping it close but not THAT close," I thought. I scroll down the recent activity and notice a check for over $500 written to Duke Energy. I also notice 3 or 4 other transactions which I definitely did not perform. They let you see a scanned version of the checks while you're on the internet but these checks had someone else's name but my account number on them. So much for a quick task. I get on the phone with the nice people at the Westwood-Cheviot branch of US Bank and they give me another number to call and amid many cell phone issues which nearly caused me to smash the phone against one of the prison cell walls. The only thing that kept me from doing that was the fact that without my phone, life would get much harder and I don't know when I'll have a chance to buy another one. Pero ni modo, I got the account closed and a new one opened up and will get the info in a couple of weeks. Canceling my health insurance became less of a priority since the information they had for my account is no longer valid, hence they won't be able to take money out of an account that doesn't exist anymore! I still attempted to get in touch with them but with no luck...for some reason, I can't dial 800 numbers and those are all that Humana had to offer me. So, being robbed: Big Deal.<br /><br />Amidst being on hold and resisting cell phone destruction, I managed to get a few pictures of some of our scholarship students sent off to their donors and a few emails written. Alex and Brett were in the next room prepping bins for what is to be a crazy month of brigades...5 brigades in total plus a crapload of other people coming down to inaugurate our new clinic in Concepción. It's nice to get ahead of the game a little since we know it won't be long before we're behind. No big deal.<br /><br />I strolled back to the mess hall for lunch, a little peeved someone felt the need to steal all of my money, but rejoiced in the fact that at least I didn't have too much to lose. I peeled back the tinfoil on the serving plate and almost fell down with awe...CHEESEBURGERS. María had somehow sensed that I was having a rough day and made CHEESEBURGERS. I promptly went in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which again she found endlessly hilarious. The burgers were delicious and all was right in the world once again. I have been here for 5 months and this is the first time she’s made these...BIG DEAL. <br /><br />In the afternoon I headed over to Magdalena with Brett and Alex, the next town up the road. You can drive it in under 10 minutes. I had put an order in for a cake to be made that morning and needed to pick it up. When we got back to Santa Lucía, we rounded up everyone in the clinic to have a going-away party for one of our employees, Nora. Nora had been with Shoulder to Shoulder for about a year but decided to go back to school to become a nurse. During her time with us she worked with a girls empowerment program called Yo Puedo, a women’s health volunteer group called Madreguias and most recently was in charge of our women’s health program, collecting data in entering it into our system. There were some nice words said and even a few songs sung by our resident troupe of singers, the nutrition health promoters. We were all happy for Nora but a little sad to see her go, she is a very good worker and extremely nice. Kind of a big deal.<br /><br />As we were finishing up our last bites of cake, someone came up to the door to tell us he had brought in a kid with a machete wound. It sounds pretty bad, but machete wounds are something we are pretty used to dealing with down here. Rubén was the doc on call and headed down to check on the kid. Turns out this was a BIG deal. A drunken grandfather and taken a swing at his 12 year old grandson, slicing his leg across the lower thigh and knee down to the bone. The clinic buzzed with action. Nurses went back and forth dumping out bloody bins of water, Juan, Alex, Edgar and Rosbinda (two other doctors) went down to assist Rubén with the kid and I got in touch with a driver to come in in order to drive the kid out to the bigger hospital in La Esperanza. This is about a 3-hour car ride but we are very limited in our resources in Santa Lucía. Anything that requires major surgery like this we have to send on in order to save the patient’s life. I pulled the truck out to the front of the clinic, checked the water and oil and put a sheet on the back seat. Rubén then sent our doorman Don Nato to bring the police since this was a pretty big deal. To facilitate them leaving quicker, I hopped in another truck and drove Don Nato to the police station and picked up a few soldiers there. Four 18 year old kids hopped in the truck with M-16s that looked pretty beat up. Seeing guys with big guns is something I am pretty used to in Central and South America, but it was definitely weird having them in my backseat. I drove them back to the clinic where they asked a few questions of the family members that brought him in. Who knows if anything will become of it, but it was a smart move by Rubén. They carefully loaded up the kid and by then our driver Raúl had arrived. We sent him off and that was that. Things got back to normal quickly, like what had just happened was no big deal. But it was. This morning at breakfast Rubén told me the kid will probably lose his foot and even if he doesn’t he probably won’t be able to walk anymore. It is days like this that make me realize why they made this a dry town...but even that law didn’t help this kid.<br /><br />That evening after dinner, we settled into what has become our Friday night ritual around the clinic. While I was home for Christmas in the states, I bought a small hookah down in Clifton. It has been a huge hit amongst my friends and colleagues here, so we fire it up whenever we can. Tonight we chose the strawberry tobacco over the blueberry. By the end the evening I was there with Brett, Edgar, Alex and Juan. We began talking about how even though work frustrates us and there are people that drives us nuts and things we can’t control, we’re doing some pretty amazing work. We are basically a small group of late 20/early 30-somethings managing health care for thousands of people who would literally have nothing otherwise. People would die all the time without our presence, a great example being that kid from earlier in the day. And it wasn’t so much about tooting our own horn as much as it was that we need to remember that some times. When the meetings grow long and frustrating and the emails seem endless and then we run out of water or the power goes out, let’s try to remember why we’re here instead of letting it get to us. We’ve all got different sets of skills and we all bring something unique to the table. We should all be proud to say we work for Shoulder to Shoulder and indeed we are. And that’s a big deal.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-54898736123920355482009-11-25T00:11:00.001-05:002009-11-25T00:47:21.251-05:00Marshmallows Roasting on an Open Volcano...Live Turkeys Nipping at My Nose...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWCPFnBOLg-B3h3FOdiLl3xJq1bdDpboRurbACclTp4THHcWxW5K4HWhmQNcmaCB-TdwgiUURHAUuWvB9kzDv5w8FYWJLbJtuaGIYipw6K7QE0A1XaM43lsAY4MzbwVF2SrDDCw/s1600/IMG_2443.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWCPFnBOLg-B3h3FOdiLl3xJq1bdDpboRurbACclTp4THHcWxW5K4HWhmQNcmaCB-TdwgiUURHAUuWvB9kzDv5w8FYWJLbJtuaGIYipw6K7QE0A1XaM43lsAY4MzbwVF2SrDDCw/s320/IMG_2443.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407906191910577506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIWUG4pvopzqXJigGhf1ZruTdaFFLbmqsfICdPVcf13tp1i471OZQZqpx5HTtW4du-cs24qzaFTREvKONTjek-zm5-Ld9irrAKlKMIOYOAfr7t2wNzA8L1Q8wMnbNFiIxYkgWuww/s1600/IMG_2438.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIWUG4pvopzqXJigGhf1ZruTdaFFLbmqsfICdPVcf13tp1i471OZQZqpx5HTtW4du-cs24qzaFTREvKONTjek-zm5-Ld9irrAKlKMIOYOAfr7t2wNzA8L1Q8wMnbNFiIxYkgWuww/s320/IMG_2438.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407906185450705554" /></a><br /><br />Greetings constant reader. This update comes not from my fingers, but from my long-lost 2nd cousin twice removed and once under the table Brett, who is coincidentally working down here in Honduras as well. I believe you will enjoy his witty banter and sarcastic voice. This is really just a ripped-off update email he is sending out to his "fans." But since I am lazy and he's actually a professional righter, I suspect you will enjoy. Here goes...<br /><br /><br /><br />This one will be a long one, so settle in…or just hit the delete key now! <br /><br />Sitting here in Copan Ruinas at the tail end of a weeklong vacation in Antigua, Guatemala. Lots of good food, coffee, bunsburying around, reading Steinbeck, and relaxation. Also lots of talking like ridiculous German tourists (“Vass?Fire sale on short pants!?”). All in all a wonderful trip, and a much needed break. It only took us just 16 short hours of riding on various buses to get to Guatemala. I have now increased my PR in the “holding pee in” event to 4.5 straight hours. In related news, I am now most likely sterile. <br /><br />Lots of stories to tell, but I think I’ll start with the one where we roasted marshmallows with lava on the side of an active volcano. Yes, you read that right…that’s marshmallows cooked with MOLTEN ROCK FROM THE CENTER OF THE EARTH. <br /><br />It goes a little like this: <br /><br />We were told to take the “sunset tour” of the volcano, called Pacaya – one of 37 in Guatemala. Left on a “buscito” at 2:00 in the afternoon. Got to the volcano and bought walking sticks from waiting mob of stick-wielding children. Child salesgirl (Claudia) sold me a total lemon of a stick, weighing in at approximately sixteen pounds bone dry. Ben got “walking stick lite” and was much better off in that department. When I tried to speak to Claudia about my stick at the end of the trip, the customer service part of her brain must have been closed for the day, because she just looked at me like I was speaking jibberish. Perhaps I was. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkc_qwGLPpIY2CRlgRIfvh5GSSvNmIaFCIrxwCYa3gmiPWU0Zxi9F9DK3BwvDEHYb7-omQm2xt2CMPuZ0r5vnSIVhd6ZXO_Vrmvd4UlbMTVxAYaVKRdBORkCgPATlUkTDC7m5HMQ/s1600/IMG_2399.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkc_qwGLPpIY2CRlgRIfvh5GSSvNmIaFCIrxwCYa3gmiPWU0Zxi9F9DK3BwvDEHYb7-omQm2xt2CMPuZ0r5vnSIVhd6ZXO_Vrmvd4UlbMTVxAYaVKRdBORkCgPATlUkTDC7m5HMQ/s320/IMG_2399.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407905111820894818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4-l9STBlYg2-UiqLNzoF_0qlQ5u5fMAfMsbys0qHf66xwgwCu0WNDgV2etwDkxlH-L7Tb1f-1djH_O0JSGvEef3t6JkMJkZmtVM0Z-18kcwQ3xgc4HravmcIKjOt9vrBfkBqmQ/s1600/IMG_2397.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4-l9STBlYg2-UiqLNzoF_0qlQ5u5fMAfMsbys0qHf66xwgwCu0WNDgV2etwDkxlH-L7Tb1f-1djH_O0JSGvEef3t6JkMJkZmtVM0Z-18kcwQ3xgc4HravmcIKjOt9vrBfkBqmQ/s320/IMG_2397.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407905110344817826" /></a>We were headed to the top of this volcano<br /><br />To make a long story short, the hike up the volcano got a bit difficult at the end, especially with the crazy 30+ mph winds that started up. I had tied my borrowed sweatshirt around my neck country-club style, which meant that I spent a large portion of the hike climbing blind while the sweatshirt repeatedly wrapped itself around my head. <br /><br />By the time I got to the top, I was exhausted and a little encachimbado (grumpy) but the minute I saw the lava that all disappeared. Or, I should say, “the minute I felt my feet burning through my shoes and realized I was standing on the crust of semi-molten rock, things got a little more exciting. Also, remember the gale-force wind, constantly threatening to blow us all into the glowing red rocks of scalding, scalding, limb-melting pain and/or certain death in the river of flowing lava. <br /><br />But before we get to the lava…a little context:<br /><br />Our cast of characters for this little sojourn included an Italian-born racing-boat builder currently riding his motorcycle from Washington state to the southern tip of Chile, Norwegian girl named Mira (or “Look!” in Spanish) Taiwanese tourist/volunteer and “man-boy”-extraordinaire (looked 18, claimed he was 28) who was traveling around Latin America, one tourist who I will call “Frumpy McGirl” because I never caught her name and she was, two European tourists, possibly German/Austrian, and old goofy dentist man (with straw hat, which blew off and disappeared down the mountain but was recovered by a small child sometime later). Also our guide, who spoke so painfully slow in Spanish for the benefit of non Spanish-speaking tourists that it became difficult to understand her after the initial welcome. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvC3b0vhGqkINsJwv9BPIc140_YOQQw5D1kDFh1pIAb6oOieFp07jEQ0yCd-PQJtZqBzTkKcZIvXhQYzRMwjnm1smnlspKYnvozoC1fSyTJ_QNXMAOUy9EMbj18G7dvJdjEyNb4Q/s1600/IMG_2412.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvC3b0vhGqkINsJwv9BPIc140_YOQQw5D1kDFh1pIAb6oOieFp07jEQ0yCd-PQJtZqBzTkKcZIvXhQYzRMwjnm1smnlspKYnvozoC1fSyTJ_QNXMAOUy9EMbj18G7dvJdjEyNb4Q/s320/IMG_2412.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407905118021945954" /></a>Ikke fal ned fra vulkanen!<br /><br />So we get to the top of our hike. Not the top of the volcano (remember, it’s active), just part of the way up. At this point, we are definitely standing on a volcano. The “path” that we are walking on is kind of like the Guatemalan Volcano version of those “Choose your own adventure” books: you choose to step on that piece of lava rock to your right and risk certain death, turn to page 122…you choose to follow the dog that has miraculously appeared at your side and hope for the best, turn to page 134. True story, a small dog followed us all the way up. We have the video to prove it. A few of the crusty parts of said “path” broke a bit when I stepped on them, causing a moment of sheer terror. This might seem fortunate, but it meant that my leg-meat survived long enough to become a happy home for a roving band of scabies. More on that later…<br /><br />So then there was the REAL lava. About twenty yards past where we first started seeing (read: narrowly avoiding) glowing lava rocks is a river of lava. We stood about six feet from it, or as close as we could stand because of the intense heat. I kept my hood up so my hair wouldn’t catch fire. You’ll see from the photo. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCupw8P_r6z4z_fJAhQOemlT7wieRkMIzySQ_4hWxFGv4ZZJkqNqLSxmNeGKTWpkFbe8X8AA4tgQbOp8jWbo4bHToH9JLEGWroj2Qd8FkH_Wpf7Wykr2_f3eLziQsc9lttlGhY7g/s1600/IMG_2430.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCupw8P_r6z4z_fJAhQOemlT7wieRkMIzySQ_4hWxFGv4ZZJkqNqLSxmNeGKTWpkFbe8X8AA4tgQbOp8jWbo4bHToH9JLEGWroj2Qd8FkH_Wpf7Wykr2_f3eLziQsc9lttlGhY7g/s320/IMG_2430.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407906170483255618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzErzFcDUeFYaA2DcrnUaeK_sQNqYamG89LMrflw-t7MIl28z-G8LQmWONswiGLFSlLXuvJ3lfck2Z5lr8HZXMvRFhU2ij0fhRH18rHkSyziLTENVmh10gxk_NAnPkz9HGbdhGtw/s1600/IMG_2429.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzErzFcDUeFYaA2DcrnUaeK_sQNqYamG89LMrflw-t7MIl28z-G8LQmWONswiGLFSlLXuvJ3lfck2Z5lr8HZXMvRFhU2ij0fhRH18rHkSyziLTENVmh10gxk_NAnPkz9HGbdhGtw/s320/IMG_2429.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407905130082329842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmzqNtg7BWyxgZYCzfVd6Lmt_FyXA4Tv0jbFUV-YXc9MKmgUuSBhn_Cudh9-SBDPo7fpuJESoiL_G0Z8R3MaR3BlYUdMQUWW9C8A_kAi4pLRkxQtIgdMQS1btshtDFfQPzYlf1PQ/s1600/IMG_2421.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmzqNtg7BWyxgZYCzfVd6Lmt_FyXA4Tv0jbFUV-YXc9MKmgUuSBhn_Cudh9-SBDPo7fpuJESoiL_G0Z8R3MaR3BlYUdMQUWW9C8A_kAi4pLRkxQtIgdMQS1btshtDFfQPzYlf1PQ/s320/IMG_2421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407905127001903602" /></a> Photos of REAL Lava<br /><br />For the main event, we found a hole down to some glowing hot lava rocks underneath where we were standing and roasted marshmallows. Delicious. Best damn marshmallow I’ve ever had. Hands down. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFb4PCPnD7X4C6Qn0KyV7dLTtzgzUdm6MUxCKmXszJ-kQglvXmYAvXD5iBA6IeVzClImE78JIZ896n7ek-2lgiQ8Lf9yHxHwlY1cvrrofLu5yrRCKI6RYIhIICjgE45as_XKFZpQ/s1600/IMG_2434.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFb4PCPnD7X4C6Qn0KyV7dLTtzgzUdm6MUxCKmXszJ-kQglvXmYAvXD5iBA6IeVzClImE78JIZ896n7ek-2lgiQ8Lf9yHxHwlY1cvrrofLu5yrRCKI6RYIhIICjgE45as_XKFZpQ/s320/IMG_2434.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407906178467663762" /></a>Marshmallavariffic!<br /><br />One thing that was not said by anyone in our group (but should have been) was, “Now I know what God feels like when he roasts marshmallows.” That’s how it felt to me. (also, name that quote for all you Simpson’s fans.)<br /><br />Then we “skied” down the side of the volcano by jumping at the top and then using the deep lava rock sand to ski. <br /><br />So to summarize, I can now add to my life-resume that I have roasted marshmallows on lava and “skied” down a portion of a volcano. When we got to a restaurant to have nachos and beers afterwards, Asian Man-boy asked, “Did anyone else realize that was INCREDIBLY, INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS?” Touché, Man-boy. Touché. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Part II: <br /><br />Lots of bus riding, a night in Copan, then met up with the Wyoming nursing student brigade in San Pedro and caught a ride with them to Concepcion. On the way, Alex and I got to spend a short time riding on top of the brigade bus. That’s definitely the way to travel around here, especially on the bad roads – laying up top in the sun, plenty of space, luggage for a pillow. Alex and I both fell asleep until a large bunch of tree leaves hit Alex in the head and made a bunch of noise. Some power lines came a little too close for comfort to my face, but other than that it seemed perfectly safe. Or at least as safe as lying on the top of a bus is, even with bars to keep you from falling off the side. <br /><br />The brigade from Wyoming was a really fun group, and we ended the trip at Zona 504 karaoke bar in El Progreso. It only took 3 songs before they took the mic away from us. They never gave it back to us, though they sarcastically promised they would. The bus ride in to San Pedro to see the brigade off and then return here to Santa Lucia puts the total bus riding that I’ve done recently at 45 hours in two weeks. Bus riding after multiple tequila shots = bad, bad, vomit-inducing idea. <br /><br />I spent most of the brigade translating for doctors doing patient consults, including an adorable 10 year-old girl named Paola with a severe heart murmur (I’m told it was a 6/6 intensity/loudness by the docs). The mother, when we got her into the clinic, said her child had been placed on a World Vision waiting list but was not sure if she was still on it, as they had not contacted her for some time and had told her there were worse cases that would get preference. Her daughter had apparently stolen and then burned the results of her tests in La Esperanza after she found out they meant she’d need surgery, so the specifics of what she has I do not know. I am not sure what we can – or should – do, but am currently trying to figure that out. If you have any ideas, or know a good cardiothoracic surgeon, let me know and I’ll keep you posted on progress…<br /><br />Other brigade highlights include: 1) thinking we had lost one brigade member for two hours or so in Colomarigua 2) getting the truck stuck – I thought the axle had bent enough that we wouldn’t drive out of it – in a ditch for 45 minutes (we were finally wedged out by a group of Honduran men, women and children wielding fence-posts), and 3) bedbug infestation of various mattresses. When I say “highlights” here I mean, “potential disasters.” <br /><br />Also, I may or may not have scabies. Really, I may or may not have had scabies. I hope that whatever I had they’re gone now, after 3 permethrin treatments and one night of doing laundry with boiling water in an industrial sized garbage can, which I called “Sopa de Ropa” (clothes soup) stirred with a mop handle. See below.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-x_5qGCNVnCy1euj7j684Dyl9JAtp4rBxW3R-RZZq2h4Ocm4O6c5imv4cWYi_B4nWXfeTGHsZ62BD82wcvjgyCECTHbugPsDegA5kIzPIG8zjfvGxIqBCDTufWP-RekDyMmy-Q/s1600/IMG_2525.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6-x_5qGCNVnCy1euj7j684Dyl9JAtp4rBxW3R-RZZq2h4Ocm4O6c5imv4cWYi_B4nWXfeTGHsZ62BD82wcvjgyCECTHbugPsDegA5kIzPIG8zjfvGxIqBCDTufWP-RekDyMmy-Q/s320/IMG_2525.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407910675909082642" /></a><br /><br />If anyone out there has had scabies or the like, I feel your pain…your itchy, itchy burning pain. If not, imagine the itchiest thing that you can, then multiply it by a thousand millions. Luckily mine were only below the knee. And luckily we have pictures of the laundry process. Maria the cook thinks that the fact that I had scabies is endlessly funny…especially since my nickname “Bobicho” (we finally figured out this was from Selena trying to say “Vos, Bicho” – “you, boy”) includes a slang word for “parasite” in it. <br /><br />Today, Maria, Ben, and I are going to buy our Thanksgiving Turkey. When we asked Maria if she could help us find one, her response was: “Sure, but Bobicho’s catching it.” We’ll see how that goes. Then you’ll see how that goes, because we’re going to film it. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUG3HLQSNIC3inzJZI5NkOGhUwr_UFqWpraz1eK_jAgdlZIK1f3VASNDMETNJoYcwfCJskTEFNC1EqJKXh9SyuhN0gpVT1nvGeYeq7aNfMNqLVrDJJX3qxQzo_hGdlVj5l2-TneQ/s1600/IMG_2539.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUG3HLQSNIC3inzJZI5NkOGhUwr_UFqWpraz1eK_jAgdlZIK1f3VASNDMETNJoYcwfCJskTEFNC1EqJKXh9SyuhN0gpVT1nvGeYeq7aNfMNqLVrDJJX3qxQzo_hGdlVj5l2-TneQ/s320/IMG_2539.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407910681120844946" /></a>The Moment of Death<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHam6KnDfyw1h8wGkqPTB91lBuAOXGQyj1BkAReEncPbWiexwaWZI_XHb4sMPNvvSCP9n-kmfBA6O2fQ4IMBZR6W00ifOT_RghMArr-8dcPFxqaXEOtvzQ3UcUGj-38cALKL9zw/s1600/IMG_2542.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHam6KnDfyw1h8wGkqPTB91lBuAOXGQyj1BkAReEncPbWiexwaWZI_XHb4sMPNvvSCP9n-kmfBA6O2fQ4IMBZR6W00ifOT_RghMArr-8dcPFxqaXEOtvzQ3UcUGj-38cALKL9zw/s320/IMG_2542.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407910686670442082" /></a>Aftermath<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiBeobXr9PIo50exsWNTKpX2QZPGrbA2EISumUJcThq1CkcYVCOgQVt16EuOHjRGXFSQFe4OUUGDc93jtO825f0aTXkIH06gQGeRuUuECVMLbdkiB6w10gZzDRAdUstg6RVcbIg/s1600/IMG_2565.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiBeobXr9PIo50exsWNTKpX2QZPGrbA2EISumUJcThq1CkcYVCOgQVt16EuOHjRGXFSQFe4OUUGDc93jtO825f0aTXkIH06gQGeRuUuECVMLbdkiB6w10gZzDRAdUstg6RVcbIg/s320/IMG_2565.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407910697991988450" /></a>Don't play with your food!<br /><br /><br />I’m sure there are a thousand more things I wanted to put in here, since it’s been a while since my last update…which I end up saying every time. But I’ll try to remember for next time!<br /><br />Hope all is well! Enjoy the cold weather, suckers! It’s a balmy 90 degrees and sunny here!!! But come to think of it, my legs are starting to itch again, so I guess it all balances out…<br /><br />Love, <br /><br />BrettJ. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-76716419163763035072009-11-11T12:18:00.003-05:002010-01-30T16:59:27.523-05:00October 2009I uploaded this video months ago and forgot to actually post it. It seems less exciting now because it was so long ago, but whatever.<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzHYQc57zACuaaxk6Jivbobx9HxilaqAynSB7by11GsGLmD6WXpX17p3QX2vuNVMPyvvflJ0hmMILA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-9115289068482835282009-11-01T01:58:00.008-04:002009-11-11T12:18:36.541-05:00"Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!!!!!"A few weeks back, a group of us around the clinic organized a trip to head into San Pedro Sula, one of the big cities here in Honduras. The occasion? World Cup qualifier, Honduras vs. USA. The stakes were high, with the winner guaranteeing themselves a coveted spot in the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. The US has been in the last 5 World Cup tournaments, but Honduras has only been in 1, back in 1982. So this was a big deal. The US Embassy travel warnings were posted, Peace Corps volunteers were officially prohibited from attending the game, and there we were...a truckload of gringos heading into the lion's den...none of us knew what to expect...<br /><br />First of all, the car ride there was a barrel of fun, spawning mountains of inside jokes including "round eye, round fruit" and "quieres la buburin?" which I won't take the time to explain here. I will only tell you that there was a lot of laughing going on in the car. It was about a 6 hour ride from Santa Lucía to San Pedro, with yours truly behind the wheel following a carload of our Honduran co-workers. It was to be my first time driving in the city and I was a little nervous but despite a few close calls, everything was fine. (That sentence could have been used to describe pretty much any car ride I've ever participated in while in Latin America). We made it to our hotel and rested for a bit before heading out into the madness. Our honduran friends decided on Burger King for lunch. Not my first choice for a "cultural experience" but it's not like the place was empty...plenty of Hondurans were having it their way before the soccer game, so I didn't feel like such a foreigner. We hopped back in the pick-up (we all squeezed into one truck to help with parking) and before we knew it, it was pouring down rain. The tropical afternoon rainstorm had struck again. They tossed us a blue tarp from the cab so we stayed relatively dry and the rain only lasted about a half hour. We found a parking spot and started walking towards the stadium.<br /><br />This was approximately 2pm. The game was scheduled to start at 8pm. Our Honduran friends had told us we had to get there very early in order to ensure that we got into the game. "But we have tickets, why will it be a problem?" we responded. Marvin (our main tour guide for the day) shook his head a smiled with a "silly gringos" look on his face. He informed us that black-market tickets were a huge deal here and that there were probably 15-20 THOUSAND bogus tickets floating around. So in order to get in, we needed to be there early and get in "line." I put that in quotes because the lines were really just huge twisted masses of people all sort-of aiming for the entrance. The stadium only held about 30,000 people and I marveled at how at an Ohio State game we still managed some kind of order with over 100,000 people trying to get in. There were no gates or ropes differentiating one line from another, just a few police officers sitting around "keeping order." We stood there for 3 hours advancing about 60 feet and I was ready to pull my hair out. My patience went out the window and I was ready to just leave, especially when it looked like we were not going to make it in. At one point a large group of gringos walked through the crowd completely obnoxiously decked out in American garb...soccer scarves, big uncle sam hats, american flag capes...the whole nine yards. They came traipsing through this crowd of thousands of angry Hondurans and were just getting harassed. Not in an unsafe kind of way, but in a sporting-event kind of way. My first thought was "those HAVE to be Peace Corps volunteers." I could just see James, Bryan, Andy, Joe and Yamasaki leading a group of us Bolivian volunteers through this madness and soaking up every minute of it. My friends and I had kept a low profile, at least trying to where neutral colors. These people were unabashedly being obnoxious Americans. And while usually I'm not a huge fan of that kind of behavior, a large part of me wanted to throw my lot in with them. The only thing that prevented me from doing that was the fact that I knew they had arrived to late to get into the game, the crowds and lines were now far too large for any hope to remain for them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzEvNvZbWk_qqpRY_dLS_JYXOlxvIIlNJgnFWc2gogtbBnxpIFVyjnyvv2ryQ4xIXIJVBmSXdQhsmGYQ40AGuIcVypjPznmMxI6Cd99qFGt2o5RiZ7GXzg0l0te3IUq5325SKwg/s1600-h/soccercrowd.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzEvNvZbWk_qqpRY_dLS_JYXOlxvIIlNJgnFWc2gogtbBnxpIFVyjnyvv2ryQ4xIXIJVBmSXdQhsmGYQ40AGuIcVypjPznmMxI6Cd99qFGt2o5RiZ7GXzg0l0te3IUq5325SKwg/s320/soccercrowd.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399022408525573346" border="0"></a><br />Once we started moving at a decent rate and we realized we were going to make it in, the frustrations lifted and we started getting pumped up. We got into the game at about 5:30 or so and found some seats down in the second row...which sounds good, but there was a huge roll of razor wire obscuring our view. Personally I didn't really care, I don't really like watching soccer. The place was a madhouse. No one was unfriendly, they could all tell we were there to have a good time. I am 100% confident there is more scorn for Michigan fans at your standard OSU game than we felt as Americans in a foreign land. The speakers were booming, the announcer was firing people up and people were screaming. We all thought the same thing..."they can't keep this up for 2.5 hours," but we were wrong. They even had some army paratroopers jump out of a circling helicopter and land on the field...it was a pretty amazing sight. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJ4EETTrNhztLL-XuSTVtGyKMy6rM3AyoWZ8pBAvr-Vgjy4Q3C225D5rgvRl6SMMwYou9G2VxXrGUHTrDyUcTCHIYWRjVDijQOkvhjIiGAbuMDMnHAQo2LcxkmqgFSKJ90iJ_rg/s1600-h/parachute.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJ4EETTrNhztLL-XuSTVtGyKMy6rM3AyoWZ8pBAvr-Vgjy4Q3C225D5rgvRl6SMMwYou9G2VxXrGUHTrDyUcTCHIYWRjVDijQOkvhjIiGAbuMDMnHAQo2LcxkmqgFSKJ90iJ_rg/s320/parachute.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399022397548127234" border="0"></a><br />By the time the game actually started, I had already felt like I had been partying like college again for hours. I've never really liked watching soccer, but it was a pretty unique experience to be there in the thick of all of it. The first half was scoreless, but when the second half started, the U.S jumped out to a 3-0 lead fairly quickly. I actually missed a couple of the goals because they were on the other end of the field and no one seemed to make a big deal out of it. This, however, was not the case when Honduras finally scored. The entire stadium erupted into pandemonium, noise makers blaring, people screaming and throwing beers, hugging, crying, high-fiving...it was pretty amazing. <br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dySHx_RdplaOzgjkFwnIf5uXoBWO9skJ2KdpVbPpr2D1lGaEpNMJE2r-RGLH9PmtvYgWjKTAB2ORVE' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br />Celebrating with Juan<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRnls5zm_yrCLitLsUcUBBTebmcr-Kj3WPre8EDzjt1yn3mQB8YUfii6-F1t7Y5AzNZ0CKPRVxgk0Kajdlf2gnDChykWOLuuG6JRpb3RInWrcWgrwIWs4qsUBUMm5XGkuDyPqfQ/s1600-h/benjuan.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRnls5zm_yrCLitLsUcUBBTebmcr-Kj3WPre8EDzjt1yn3mQB8YUfii6-F1t7Y5AzNZ0CKPRVxgk0Kajdlf2gnDChykWOLuuG6JRpb3RInWrcWgrwIWs4qsUBUMm5XGkuDyPqfQ/s320/benjuan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399016507847627010" border="0"></a> <br /> Hanging with my buds<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguibExP-96L5Q2RzifljTr_ENimYq8ngxH1_byk5zAcPlXMrRD3uqZPMWhyrosQwQnng9yCpUvh8_-MqtZP0bnHUaoazDAXkwyGED4P8cNxK5vh5DdhtuE5b_1hFqHk8ogmzPS9w/s1600-h/benalexjuan.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguibExP-96L5Q2RzifljTr_ENimYq8ngxH1_byk5zAcPlXMrRD3uqZPMWhyrosQwQnng9yCpUvh8_-MqtZP0bnHUaoazDAXkwyGED4P8cNxK5vh5DdhtuE5b_1hFqHk8ogmzPS9w/s320/benalexjuan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399016501706837522" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEpflN8Y8wX7MXDxRAQL7nf2HcPTS0Hhy7O2469Zz7W7ji9VSROdgVJkvBP1Gg6LXD7F6E7S-uj9jZzb16HegLOJ7V6UnRAtGsn08cZ5yGjJWPRHiI9hetKuys4tmVW1LS6DL1w/s1600-h/soccer.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEpflN8Y8wX7MXDxRAQL7nf2HcPTS0Hhy7O2469Zz7W7ji9VSROdgVJkvBP1Gg6LXD7F6E7S-uj9jZzb16HegLOJ7V6UnRAtGsn08cZ5yGjJWPRHiI9hetKuys4tmVW1LS6DL1w/s320/soccer.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399022403230157458" border="0"></a><br />The game ended anti-climatically, with the U.S hanging on to win 3-2. Hondurans would have to wait until the following Wednesday to finally determine their World Cup fate.<br /> <br />The ride back to Santa Lucía the next day was just as fun as the ride in, only with the added benefit of having picked up Jody in the city, who is another one of the gringos that works in Santa Lucía. She had been visiting friends and also went to the game, but it had been a few weeks since we'd seen her. We laughed even more on the way back than we had on the way in, only stopping for a delicious fish lunch near at the pretty lake Yojoa. <br /><br />It was a very good trip, although pretty quick. Here is a shot of the great sunset on the ride back..<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczmnXkAT_rKwnQsSLw1rToilnTsJ2gpY0qxlPXEXB3F4IG2E4hzJQzEm-It0vRbPAH7oJIFe1AYLRCisVioDlwicxiTOVthtjsmj5zUltDUHmzrdZO7zx3YvMvwBMIDbXghSjFQ/s1600-h/sunset.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczmnXkAT_rKwnQsSLw1rToilnTsJ2gpY0qxlPXEXB3F4IG2E4hzJQzEm-It0vRbPAH7oJIFe1AYLRCisVioDlwicxiTOVthtjsmj5zUltDUHmzrdZO7zx3YvMvwBMIDbXghSjFQ/s320/sunset.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399022413578024338" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br />Epilogue: The following Wednesday a Honduran victory over neighboring El Salvador coupled with a US tie with Costa Rica opened up a berth for Honduras in the World Cup for the first time since 1982. They fought like Hondurans, and won their freedom. <br /><br /><br />And then a national holiday was declared for the following day.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-21339033023024827012009-10-03T16:35:00.000-04:002009-10-03T18:36:39.079-04:00Stories Through PhotosSo far life is good. I'll leave it at that and continue with some pictures and commentary...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-YnJa19r1zv75nKZnS8plSAUYL805UWwH_mDoRqOi8UmSkEMRfC6UKr6ltXjy2O6x-OjEs0wT-_-a_e4Aen6aEd6418HNi2t5f-xtoBudr33MmC3C0TBYcOo5FtZ4YtmX4NkAQ/s1600-h/IMG_1695.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-YnJa19r1zv75nKZnS8plSAUYL805UWwH_mDoRqOi8UmSkEMRfC6UKr6ltXjy2O6x-OjEs0wT-_-a_e4Aen6aEd6418HNi2t5f-xtoBudr33MmC3C0TBYcOo5FtZ4YtmX4NkAQ/s320/IMG_1695.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388232836577552658" /></a><br />The building in the front is the clinic and the building in the back is our apartment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgc1yMdBGR-Zd3H-Mkgs_bsjdunXUIlLHYm2ubwQxowKxm8NXqXUXG3gT2y0p2aCEUAJEDK4a9XYbp7pOWqgEyD4Rb4yUrl5tlHN3j-pqKJjTi-LogAOSHsA_YlVZRoDVVrxLvrg/s1600-h/IMG_1698.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgc1yMdBGR-Zd3H-Mkgs_bsjdunXUIlLHYm2ubwQxowKxm8NXqXUXG3gT2y0p2aCEUAJEDK4a9XYbp7pOWqgEyD4Rb4yUrl5tlHN3j-pqKJjTi-LogAOSHsA_YlVZRoDVVrxLvrg/s320/IMG_1698.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388232841864600786" /></a>A view of the front of the clinic. In the mornings this is where the patients wait to be attended.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegvUrIRiXs-aJ9Xao0V8unlZYiNtAYxNonz0Ya5JzHd9XawFp-cTMCUm8Ut_3whptZ7Pc5WhcDRUMRNIF6Gg3V5yEal8YMHxO7lJX8X-9x8x9LZZSJnMpaJiPESliXWSFQoQPtA/s1600-h/IMG_1699.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegvUrIRiXs-aJ9Xao0V8unlZYiNtAYxNonz0Ya5JzHd9XawFp-cTMCUm8Ut_3whptZ7Pc5WhcDRUMRNIF6Gg3V5yEal8YMHxO7lJX8X-9x8x9LZZSJnMpaJiPESliXWSFQoQPtA/s320/IMG_1699.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388232851518470722" /></a> The first floor of the dorms/apartment buildings is where we eat...kind of like training tables.<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjROSQIgRWs47GnGTg29HtcnVMBxVZFPI-i6WBGNx21RUWvZeRqQAjz0NNLAXVVY7NX0taCY6dBp6BQteZOXCIjAf0aoMEiwju5EtlQleEC6nbqebNmszcd37qVzXeLkIvJVLLWyQ/s1600-h/IMG_1691.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjROSQIgRWs47GnGTg29HtcnVMBxVZFPI-i6WBGNx21RUWvZeRqQAjz0NNLAXVVY7NX0taCY6dBp6BQteZOXCIjAf0aoMEiwju5EtlQleEC6nbqebNmszcd37qVzXeLkIvJVLLWyQ/s320/IMG_1691.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388502249150894978" /></a>An average street in Santa Lucía. Narrow and steep. These are just the "urban" roads. Once you get out of town the roads are much more...interesting...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNpukwF_Y0WUA-9MaZi73EFKkFpq7hEVJhbNr_fjIVoVGiq9OcDx8UmpkjOcQpEiPP5liapzeRz-h4fpSpwnB_MQrYRDyruLLTyXkGkVbtO4-mH7PJsC96NvVeQ3c7uKzzpmAkQ/s1600-h/IMG_1700.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNpukwF_Y0WUA-9MaZi73EFKkFpq7hEVJhbNr_fjIVoVGiq9OcDx8UmpkjOcQpEiPP5liapzeRz-h4fpSpwnB_MQrYRDyruLLTyXkGkVbtO4-mH7PJsC96NvVeQ3c7uKzzpmAkQ/s320/IMG_1700.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388239322348494994" /></a>My office/desk. Pretty nice huh?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgvbSnH6IdzgjR7Sz8qQHfe1aE1KwiZsFJbqb4Bm429OAIF9jdLSzKTNFpoFJsuT7F847KhfHYYmZO7lE5Kv-2kfWrOcdTN7EZWSx81Iulla5YcLmhfp2Buh61__WtxBy4GnLiQ/s1600-h/IMG_1651.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpgvbSnH6IdzgjR7Sz8qQHfe1aE1KwiZsFJbqb4Bm429OAIF9jdLSzKTNFpoFJsuT7F847KhfHYYmZO7lE5Kv-2kfWrOcdTN7EZWSx81Iulla5YcLmhfp2Buh61__WtxBy4GnLiQ/s320/IMG_1651.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387514672459725010" /></a>The outlying clinic in Santa Rita...about a 25 minute drive from Santa Lucía<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHpa6pjPPk3na5Q2xRGUqru94-cNdTsUjvilgIkrQshZ2s-vXvPQ9oKJHfvkA_RdpsRYGxhWs9XNh9GrVp3z1utmQ1TJJ4ROD6xWZUabg6Cb6QbUAQSio4fyAFc53xENK3RpLzhg/s1600-h/IMG_1652.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHpa6pjPPk3na5Q2xRGUqru94-cNdTsUjvilgIkrQshZ2s-vXvPQ9oKJHfvkA_RdpsRYGxhWs9XNh9GrVp3z1utmQ1TJJ4ROD6xWZUabg6Cb6QbUAQSio4fyAFc53xENK3RpLzhg/s320/IMG_1652.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387514680597722882" /></a>This girl and her baby sister were waiting on their mom who was being seen at our clinic in Santa Rita<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvu1qVW7PI_cfrEpzXkNeM2AcKKKYNlTgXvSRv_OGqudsFtLfBzurEJwDNAE7HXWSReklFHLi7qy2XI0hcQ08Jlp4IW8ZHXOMb7dE5llddQzbnF9su0fDe5Df1l3WaBgX8DspQg/s1600-h/IMG_1657.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvu1qVW7PI_cfrEpzXkNeM2AcKKKYNlTgXvSRv_OGqudsFtLfBzurEJwDNAE7HXWSReklFHLi7qy2XI0hcQ08Jlp4IW8ZHXOMb7dE5llddQzbnF9su0fDe5Df1l3WaBgX8DspQg/s320/IMG_1657.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387514684256818482" /></a><br />No better way to secure things to a truck than duct tape...I haven't found any goma yet in this country, sadly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg712nsrVYNdGxQASFHnAD4xwNmMXYuDqM9mCASFratHONn6WbcjuEJnA_Knx2T5CliYJISqAhw9cS9cFprZWnrIESUXAtnojIfAsEa3ElT3VghQkQ89m6QjIWPl5BBxMB_RBkSog/s1600-h/IMG_1686.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg712nsrVYNdGxQASFHnAD4xwNmMXYuDqM9mCASFratHONn6WbcjuEJnA_Knx2T5CliYJISqAhw9cS9cFprZWnrIESUXAtnojIfAsEa3ElT3VghQkQ89m6QjIWPl5BBxMB_RBkSog/s320/IMG_1686.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388502241112279298" /></a>Alex and I are in charge of any and all reparations here at the clinic. Here you see the dental suction machine after we got our hands on it. It's nice to not have any official rules or codes, we can do whatever we want and it's a success. As you can tell, things like duct tape and wire ties are pretty key.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFfRmCp9OPC40VnqkmGtWfu7es039cL4KVKLLg-IRQwzP14_R3VkEDw1CYj5ZyAKVt62t36evg-g1PRxGRHSAzlywlm2_TYfGFy6txmU9Gk9-_cvFbZyJpbeBYJaaXarZlpxlkQ/s1600-h/IMG_1675.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFfRmCp9OPC40VnqkmGtWfu7es039cL4KVKLLg-IRQwzP14_R3VkEDw1CYj5ZyAKVt62t36evg-g1PRxGRHSAzlywlm2_TYfGFy6txmU9Gk9-_cvFbZyJpbeBYJaaXarZlpxlkQ/s320/IMG_1675.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388500938445775154" /></a>After a long day's work hanging electrical boxes and messing around with a generator, Alex and I ventured into town to find some dinner but could only turn up this box of frozen chicken wings. Without a microwave, we improvised and just cooked them in a frying pan. Delicious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4t7F984u666WgR7c5oI-A9vctasvjvAkUFW01CnRNvNh48MRI1KslGUOi6l8Emec2A5wHQyt-ndsqDe6aN3MwmYnpU2Z5j1g073_iXf20zBasnRBHsSusTct7TMYrSsDNBKNHg/s1600-h/IMG_1685.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4t7F984u666WgR7c5oI-A9vctasvjvAkUFW01CnRNvNh48MRI1KslGUOi6l8Emec2A5wHQyt-ndsqDe6aN3MwmYnpU2Z5j1g073_iXf20zBasnRBHsSusTct7TMYrSsDNBKNHg/s320/IMG_1685.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388500940712910674" /></a>Sundays at the clinic, our cook doesn't come so we have to fend for ourselves. Alex is quite the gourmet and whipped up some vegetable lasagna, and here Leslie and I are working on brownies for dessert. It's always a collaborative effort.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwhzfWGK5hh1e7Qgd3iNbP_NA3Czqmch3TeAuk6H6fY1qTYRDDrveXR8I2phcso9SSBq2YfDtKarJJrfOhu-SuCASEOuNtk3myRsJIODCQrSPjzCGxn6x12BkK8oMNTcFxxSY5w/s1600-h/IMG_1731.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwhzfWGK5hh1e7Qgd3iNbP_NA3Czqmch3TeAuk6H6fY1qTYRDDrveXR8I2phcso9SSBq2YfDtKarJJrfOhu-SuCASEOuNtk3myRsJIODCQrSPjzCGxn6x12BkK8oMNTcFxxSY5w/s320/IMG_1731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388241624485947346" /></a>Another one of Alex's amazing creations in the kitchen...barbeque chicken pizza from scratch! Seriously, if you come to visit make sure to be here on a Sunday...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqQJAqruoZMAc-Qg_wIlgVFYroJYh0ub5XQvY9EUHC7shvCPzyDpUcGLO3lDCflCTuth1zUd97VXJlqC3Doaizzi-zOY2GgPFyUiUC6k9KXiDJI9mEkdSfI_AJghF0umJK2I3iw/s1600-h/IMG_1732.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqQJAqruoZMAc-Qg_wIlgVFYroJYh0ub5XQvY9EUHC7shvCPzyDpUcGLO3lDCflCTuth1zUd97VXJlqC3Doaizzi-zOY2GgPFyUiUC6k9KXiDJI9mEkdSfI_AJghF0umJK2I3iw/s320/IMG_1732.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388241631135321346" /></a>Everybody pitching in to clean up after the big meal...even doctors can do dishes!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKnu43-EAt4R1jTxMIZiJEQnCccS_oI_ysNGy4d9Wkpv1Wk-dv6S8Iewe3QmOcIaeahbPOJZiMjXb8O0eQmq5L0qCL1gbIn8_jcFOJLGrKX11PVLeNQSDzWnL1LMHqxcxSo8Vhg/s1600-h/IMG_1704.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKnu43-EAt4R1jTxMIZiJEQnCccS_oI_ysNGy4d9Wkpv1Wk-dv6S8Iewe3QmOcIaeahbPOJZiMjXb8O0eQmq5L0qCL1gbIn8_jcFOJLGrKX11PVLeNQSDzWnL1LMHqxcxSo8Vhg/s320/IMG_1704.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388239328881447922" /></a>View from the top: Early Sunday morning we decided to hike up to the cell towers high above town. It was about an hour walk but straight up, kind of like walking up school section road for about an hour. It was worth it though, to see the morning fog clearing out above town.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Lfm32O0HHnKUG2UICp7UDmfG8iIaNFzSCJP7c4IAU3gUVuingzKgXP4BAUXMwnFuQ_4QvNc-XbSqEqaILt-nYlMCCQFBtDFe1vd0fGWcgaD3xhpiJRkdJ6uyFN3t3TaQJAVGwQ/s1600-h/IMG_1727.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Lfm32O0HHnKUG2UICp7UDmfG8iIaNFzSCJP7c4IAU3gUVuingzKgXP4BAUXMwnFuQ_4QvNc-XbSqEqaILt-nYlMCCQFBtDFe1vd0fGWcgaD3xhpiJRkdJ6uyFN3t3TaQJAVGwQ/s320/IMG_1727.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388241620341308066" /></a>Santa Lucía from afar...the clinic is at the very top of town, the long red roof.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFdA7Zk_wetx-1G7tQUxMrx4shPN7kkLhnrNl_mDWg_OT2aLB4uRajIGqljt_ffePI7Azt5k0ZPd-ouAgWJL_x8j3h_Ld-tVFZL6Pj-D-nXA2mHjT-pvWmuATPbbdF50ymVHQYg/s1600-h/IMG_1711.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFdA7Zk_wetx-1G7tQUxMrx4shPN7kkLhnrNl_mDWg_OT2aLB4uRajIGqljt_ffePI7Azt5k0ZPd-ouAgWJL_x8j3h_Ld-tVFZL6Pj-D-nXA2mHjT-pvWmuATPbbdF50ymVHQYg/s320/IMG_1711.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388241612080340146" /></a>The mountains around here are really amazing, every time I'm out I add another one to the list that I need to get to the top of.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsJhfWXqsj6hTiV9VZm0Ct1G7oR3-NzEcZawKamLdAryHQe9uxLruAuBae_GFJOtj55DWI4Fc17N8jLS83AI7K8kuVN7HPQ9PJ9p9XndOKwOuog_AQ2DHXdPLdyrfZGjR63dN5w/s1600-h/IMG_1708.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsJhfWXqsj6hTiV9VZm0Ct1G7oR3-NzEcZawKamLdAryHQe9uxLruAuBae_GFJOtj55DWI4Fc17N8jLS83AI7K8kuVN7HPQ9PJ9p9XndOKwOuog_AQ2DHXdPLdyrfZGjR63dN5w/s320/IMG_1708.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388239333512641266" /></a>The hiking crew: Alex, Edgar, Alan, Yaniré, me...and Yuki the dog!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxZbOI5I9CsdnsGJ5nRPWzaZYIAlCmUEcdJkwXTP7Ig63q7Kf3ODgVyISI_XSgkYmx5BAePMJzA6faeqBmrbVcFwtVHWYG3sAtISmiUgKY4GcURKO5VVar3S9rYAf3TXbKGWaEA/s1600-h/IMG_1738.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxZbOI5I9CsdnsGJ5nRPWzaZYIAlCmUEcdJkwXTP7Ig63q7Kf3ODgVyISI_XSgkYmx5BAePMJzA6faeqBmrbVcFwtVHWYG3sAtISmiUgKY4GcURKO5VVar3S9rYAf3TXbKGWaEA/s320/IMG_1738.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388243174616568114" /></a>We've started playing basketball a few times a week, it's good fun and good exercise. This is me celebrating probably after hitting a 3 in Alex's face to finish off the game<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJSVbkVQx00FY_RnriQKT4N_RwfVaK1LWoBkQBgAgOX7srzpB0Ljl8JnZUvvk4OiHfMth5LIzo2ryspSKi4tsIAzUZH_t0b3Anz19eomIMyM0P_0xOAxfXetPWqjN2g0raRblYYg/s1600-h/IMG_1670.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJSVbkVQx00FY_RnriQKT4N_RwfVaK1LWoBkQBgAgOX7srzpB0Ljl8JnZUvvk4OiHfMth5LIzo2ryspSKi4tsIAzUZH_t0b3Anz19eomIMyM0P_0xOAxfXetPWqjN2g0raRblYYg/s320/IMG_1670.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387514691279011106" /></a><br />This huge frog hopped it's way into our room as we were cooking dinner in Concepción. Wildlife is sweet.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Bf5RN9R1YkTf6jeTgvaAYrkXINJ_LXXI73yajOJqTDC1Uio311Nq4U-J5fiZPSFDCwjLNA5CstfcVWn4BF-KQKNdr9iVP_mo-7XpQmyj9WDO0pdOV1e6CFssI0uTEg9sp52eSw/s1600-h/IMG_1642.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Bf5RN9R1YkTf6jeTgvaAYrkXINJ_LXXI73yajOJqTDC1Uio311Nq4U-J5fiZPSFDCwjLNA5CstfcVWn4BF-KQKNdr9iVP_mo-7XpQmyj9WDO0pdOV1e6CFssI0uTEg9sp52eSw/s320/IMG_1642.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387514663390423906" /></a> Out for a Sunday swim at the river...not the clearest water around but refreshing just the same.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb3HZ_lc6WpGH2rshoKSy-A15BAy16zUiy4wXardIZZJOjCjnLnYciKKAp30XqSuvLF2qtMb1anjZLOvvaF-9x1buAw6gCwwb5FmkO5IjhsLvclvGynP1Of9P0eZZyoxyXpNhMg/s1600-h/IMG_1692.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb3HZ_lc6WpGH2rshoKSy-A15BAy16zUiy4wXardIZZJOjCjnLnYciKKAp30XqSuvLF2qtMb1anjZLOvvaF-9x1buAw6gCwwb5FmkO5IjhsLvclvGynP1Of9P0eZZyoxyXpNhMg/s320/IMG_1692.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388232829242375074" /></a>The view from our balcony in our apartment/office. The only thing missing from this shot is me in the hammock.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQae_LwbAC5diJryo5jomp3TAH0Hb6iyV2oiW2uhKagirlIDgtakAIfkSMLKfQRFB1GNQ8CttahndnAoCGAOSQm-LC6qu3wp7AoHqAgclMWjrP3kynnvOYMqzQl-4yTDKZGM9y1w/s1600-h/IMG_1734.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQae_LwbAC5diJryo5jomp3TAH0Hb6iyV2oiW2uhKagirlIDgtakAIfkSMLKfQRFB1GNQ8CttahndnAoCGAOSQm-LC6qu3wp7AoHqAgclMWjrP3kynnvOYMqzQl-4yTDKZGM9y1w/s320/IMG_1734.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388243182813769874" /></a>The rainy season here brings some pretty awesome night-time thunderstorms. It's nice to sit out on the balcony listening to the rain fall and watching the lightning brilliantly light up the sky with some chill music playing in the background...J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-56394270735848724202009-09-13T19:35:00.002-04:002009-09-13T20:19:07.473-04:00Settling InToday is my first Sunday in Honduras. I am bit-by-bit adjusting to life here, no big surprises so far. I find myself often comparing to Bolivia and the Peace Corps, which I expected. The main differences are that I have a lot clearer view of my purpose here than I did when I first arrived in Bolivia and lot more direction. Part of the Peace Corps process was finding your own way, your own path, your own way of doing things. There was support where you needed it, but we were certainly not coddled once training was over. I got dumped into a town where I was the only American with maybe a few ideas for projects but nothing officially set up for work. It took me months to meet people, earn their trust, get into the swing of it all and finally drilled my first well about 9 months into my service. By the end of my time in Hardeman, however, new people were knocking on my door every day asking if we could drill them a well. It went from one extreme to the other.<br /><br />Here, my set-up is quite different. I am a new employee at a health clinic that has been in this small, rural town for about 20 years now. I'm no longer the local gringo celebrity, gringos are a dime-a-dozen in this town. Many have come and gone along the years, and large groups of them invade on our brigades. I don't think I will necessarily get lost in the shuffle, but it's far cry from Peace Corps where I was the only gringo to ever spend a significant amount of time in my little town. And there are benefits to both. It is pretty nice having all these resources here, for example wireless internet all the time, access to trucks and some other Americans around who can get excited about Ohio State football for example. I try to imagine all the work I could have gotten done in Hardeman with just a fraction of these resources. But as strange as it sounds to say it, Peace Corps wasn't just about getting a bunch of work done. It was just as much about spreading goodwill to my fellow man and hopefully showing the folks in my town a good example of an American, as well as learning about them and sharing what I learned with other Americans. So that time spent getting to know things was a very important part of my service. It is not like that as much here. Townspeople have an idea of what Americans are like and may assume that I am the same. And perhaps I am, depending on their ideas. It's just a whole different experience from arriving to Hardeman. But I definitely find it much easier to adjust to this life having been through my Peace Corps experience in Bolivia.<br /><br />As far as my day-to-day goes, I share a room with my friend Alex, who is a nurse here in the clinic but dabbles in just about everything. In our "apartment" right now are Leslie & Mark, a married couple who have been here for a little over a year. Also in another room is Yanire, a researcher working on a nutrition study. We have some common space as well, a big living room and a kitchen, but all that doubles as offices for all of us, which really consist of lunchroom tables mostly. There is another apartment up here as well that houses the majority of the Honduran medical staff...doctors and nurses. We are on the second floor, downstairs is the main kitchen and eating area where we eat most of our meals. There are some more employees living in rooms down there, and people are always coming and going, for a few months, weeks, or days at a time. It's a little strange living with the same people I work with and working in same place I live. But for now it's all there is. I am settling in very nicely and have felt pretty useful up until now. More to come soon.J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27445406.post-64066793572657857392009-09-08T07:07:00.003-04:002009-09-09T22:09:39.858-04:00"is nothing sacred?"**7:13 am, Columbus airport. I had no idea they had free wifi here at the airport, so this is quite the pleasant surprise. So the next stage of my life begins today. It's been a hectic week of traveling, packing, saying goodbyes (as well as hello to my new nephew Conrad!) and all the other things you do before a grand journey.<br /><br />I feel calm and ready. It was nice to be able to get through the hard part yesterday in Cincy before traveling today. I got to Columbus in the afternoon and shared a great last night in America with two of my very best friends David and Kreiner, which included a nice cigar on the steps of Orton Hall, watching the oval drink in the rain. It was extremely calming.<br /><br />Breakfast this morning was mom's home-made chocolate chip cookies...talk about a lucky morning. With any luck, I'll have a few left for tomorrow morning.<br /><br />Well, they're calling my number. Bon voyage, see you in Honduras!<br /><br />**quote spoken by me while in Columbus, upon realizing the storied bar JR Miggs had been torn down so the hair salon next door could expand...J. Ben Ranzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11536519701113047997noreply@blogger.com0