Volunteering in Honduras: is this for real?

eliza 2nd grade blog

It’s been six weeks and I still can’t fully believe this is real. My name is Eliza and I currently teach Prepa (5 and 6-year-olds) and second grade English at CBS. Every single day that I’m here I’m blown away by how much love, energy, and enthusiasm my kids have. I’m also a little bit blown away by their passion for fried chicken and sweets.

I arrived in Cofradía on September 1st, a week after school had begun. The next morning, at 6:30 am, I climbed into the van and headed to school with the other volunteers. At that moment, I became a teacher – not just any teacher, but an English teacher to 54 students. As I walked through the schoolyard, my eyes taking in the surroundings, several little children ran up to me, wrapping their arms around my legs in a hug.

These six weeks have been weeks of experimenting with teaching methods, getting to know each of my students, and adjusting to life in Honduras. I’ve learned to cook a delicious pot of beans, to incorporate bubbles into my lessons, and to structure lesson plans around limited attention spans.

prepa bubbles

From early-morning granola, to after-school stops at the one supermarket in Cofradía, to lesson-planning around the big table with other volunteers, this has become my every day. This has become my home, a place where I’ve developed a routine and found a comfort zone. This comfort zone is broad enough for the drinks that come in plastic bags, the unreliable running water, the diet of beans and fried food, and the farm animals that roam the streets. I love my kids, I love the challenge of teaching them, I love the beauty of the surrounding mountains, and I love the simplicity of Cofradía.

The other thing I’ve come to love about Honduras is that it is a place to be taken in stride. It’s hard to ever know exactly what’s coming. A shapes-review running game on the patio was thwarted upon arrival with my 30 Prepa kids to an already occupied patio. A five-day weekend was announced one day before it began. The laundry machine ran one load of laundry for three days. A taco turned out to be basically a large Honduran eggroll. All plans have been cancelled everytime it rains. Everything keeps me a little bit more on my toes and a little bit more ready to improvise.

From becoming a teacher overnight to writing bimester exams for this week, I’ve had six eye-opening weeks in this country. When one of my students handed me a shiny red apple one morning, it all became that much more real – I’m a teacher in Honduras now.

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