My blog post Living in the Most Dangerous Country in theWorld has been reposted by several people and has gone pretty viral lately.
I’m happy to see so many positive reactions and of course I still stand by my
words: Come to Copán Ruinas, it’s a beautiful and quiet place!
But I must admit that
lately I’ve seen another side of Honduras. I just spent twelve days
in El Progreso, Yoro, where I painted murals at foster homes for children that
have been removed from their families because of a variety of problems or picked off the street, run by two
different organizations. The murals came along fine, the people I worked with
were great, and even the places I painted the murals at were quiet and peaceful,
the homes being located on the outskirts of town, not that different from the
rural schools in the mountains surrounding Copán. That was a surprise for me,
because somehow I had expected to have to paint on a crowded and noisy street
in the middle of the city.
The one big
difference with Copán was safety concerns. San Pedro Sula has the doubtful reputation of
having the highest murder rate in the world (at least until recently, as far as
I know), but I wonder if El Progreso isn’t worse. Maybe I’ve been too focused
on this place, but reading the newspaper, El Progreso surely jumps out and
stories from people that live there only confirm it. Of course it also had to
do with the places I spent most of my time there. My hotel was right in the
centre of town (traditionally not the safest of places in any city) and I was working in two
suburbs both notorious for their delinquency. Travelling there was a logistic
pain in the butt: Taking the bus to the one place and walking the last bit was
out of the question without the escort of four of five guys. Getting to the
other place was only permitted in certain taxis, others would surely get
robbed, as I was told. Of course I wondered if all those horror stories weren’t
a bit exaggerated, but then I would hear or read yet another one that would
make me stick to the precautions I was asked to take.
The first mural
project was done in collaboration with twelve kids, ten boys and two girls, that
live at the foster home. They themselves were to pick the theme which was
chosen through an exercise in which each participant wrote (anonymously) a list
of things or situations that bothered them; the change they’d like to see; and
what their own personal contribution could be to make that change happen. We
wrote all answers on big sheets of paper and it was no surprise that the
violent situation in their community came out as the big winner. We then
brainstormed about a storyline and what the kids came up with was a plot about
a kid getting robbed of his cell phone, only to meet his attacker a few days
later being the victim of an mugging himself. The kid at first feels that
justice has been done, but then realizes that by thinking like that, he’s not much
better than the villain himself. So instead he decides to give him a helping
hand and in the end they become best friends, dedicating their free time to
coaching soccer in their neighbourhood.
I was pretty
impressed with the positive message of this, but even more impressed by the
behaviour of these kids. It took us almost six days to paint the mural and
before that we had already spent a day and a half together in Copán, but during
all this time not one incident happened. I’m not sure what I had expected, but
definitely not this, considering that all of these kids carry some heavy-duty
baggage. They all have histories of serious abuse, living on the streets, drugs
and alcohol addictions and of course “common” delinquency and violence. So yes,
I think I expected at least some foul language, a tantrum here or there, losing
some supplies or being yelled at. But none of that happened.
Painting a mural
is hard work, especially if you’re not used to it, but despite being exhausted
by the end of the week and -to be honest- sick of paint, the kids kept on going
without getting difficult or being obnoxious. Of course there was a bit of
shoving and pushing here and there, boys will be boys, and yes, they were loud,
but overall, I’ve never worked with kids so considerate and helpful, not only
towards me, but towards each other too. They would wait their turns, help each
other out or hold the ladder whenever someone was balancing on the top step. They did their regular chores without complaint and when it started
to rain, one or two would run off to bring in the laundry. Not just their own,
but everybody’s.
During one of our
painting days, Juan Orlando Hernandez (one of the candidates for presidency in the
upcoming elections) had a big rally nearby and even up on our remote mountain
side we could not escape listening to his promises and chanting (“Blue! Blue!
Blue!”). I’m not a big fan of politicians in general and couldn’t help being
irritated about the unrealistic promises I heard on fixing the county in its
entirety. Honduras
is a country with such deeply rooted and widespread problems, they are not
going to be fixed by just one politician and definitely not overnight.
But being with
those kids for over a week made me see Honduras’ future in another light.
Despite the threatening society they live in, their violent past and the fact
that they live without their families, these kids are not resentful, asocial or
criminal. They are fantastic young people that despite the throwbacks in life
are making the very best of it. So if they can do it, why not everybody else
too? Being with them certainly put my own life in perspective…
So, whoever is
going to win the lections on the 24th, I doubt that a lot is going
to change. But if I look at those kids, soon to be adults, yes, then I
definitely see hope for the future.
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