Thoughts from Honduras
Contents
Dec 1, 1999
The heavy rains forced our hand into providing critical medical care far sooner than we were ready for.
When the rains started, Becky found herself stuck on the La Ceiba side of the rivers for a couple days, just when I was beginning to feel the discomfort of Dengue fever in Balfate. As the rains continued, I decided to try a trip to town to get some things we needed, and got stuck both coming and going, needing to be pulled out by the "deuce and a half" our 2 ½ ton military truck. After that, we stayed put in Balfate for three weeks until the rain stopped and the rivers receded.
During that time, it really rained! One soggy day, while working at the hospital, trying to unpack boxes of medical supplies, and put them into some kind of order, Matute came screeching up in his pick up. (Some of you may remember Matute, the husband of Marabel, who runs the restaurant in Balfate.) He asked me to come quickly, for Don Trino, one of the town elders, was gravely ill. As I headed for the car, Pad yelled after me that he has a bad heart.
I grabbed a few things from the pharmacy and followed Matute. As I was going, I prayed for wisdom, knowing that there was not much I could do for a heart attack at this time or place.
When I arrived at Don Trino’s house, there was a crowd, and indeed he was very ill, burning with fever and comatose. His pulse was strong and regular and his lungs sounded junky, which gave me some relief. I at least had a chance with an infectious problem. His wife told me that he had been coughing up foul stuff for a couple of days, and that he was diabetic, had high blood pressure, and a bad heart.
I headed back to the hospital to get the glucometer the last team had left, to check his blood sugar, and to collect some of the IV supplies I was unpacking that morning. When I looked in the pharmacy for IV antibiotics, the choice was simple, since the only choice was a few days worth of IV Mefoxin, an antibiotic I was familiar with.
Back at Don Trino’s, I figured out how to check his blood sugar, which was fine. I then set up to start an IV, with much prayer, since I had not put in an IV line for a LONG time. Praise God, I got it on the first try, quickly ran in a liter of fluid, started the antibiotics and then had to dig deep in my memory to try to figure out how to regulate the IV by counting drops. God was very faithful! I then prayed in poor Spanish, that God would help us.
The next couple days I played "home health care nurse" stopping by frequently to change IV bags, give antibiotics and pray. By the third day, Don Trino was weak, but starting to eat, and complain. He wanted to go to the private hospital in La Ceiba. I told him he was too weak to make the river passage in canoe and walk the mile between the rivers. He said he wanted to go by helicopter. I jokingly said that he would have to make those arrangements himself, and left it at that.
The next morning, I heard a helicopter. Off he went to La Ceiba! I was convinced that God had helped us, and that Don Trino was on the mend, but I feared for what the city doctors might have to say in criticism of the new Gringo Doc in Balfate. I felt our reputation might be on the line, having offered such a level of care in the current setting.
A few days later, one of Don Trino's friends came up and shook my hand vigorously. He told me that when Don Trino had seen the doctor, they told him he was too well to be in the hospital. Their Xray confirmed the diagnosis of pneumonia. They told Don Trino to get some more rest, keep taking the antibiotic pills I had given him, and that God and the Gringo Doctor in Balfate had saved his life.
Yesterday I received a thank you card from Don Trino’s family.
Before the memory faded into the bustle of other things, I wanted to write this down to remind us now, and in the future, that God is in control, and that we are here to serve Him. I look forward with great anticipation to see what more God will do to prove Himself here in Balfate, and draw people unto Himself. It is a great privilege to be an instrument in the hand of our awesome God.
Dec 20, 1999
Three weddings in two days! And for none of them did we have more than an hour’s notice.
The first was a double wedding. Those who have been to Honduras will probably remember Reinerio (he drives the tractor and the “deuce”), and his brother Esteben. They both have been living with young women, as is the custom here. Reinerio had a child with his “wife” as well, which he named Allen, after one of the missionaries. Esteben claims to know Christ, and recently rededicated himself to follow Jesus. Reinerio contemplates Christ, but as yet has not committed himself to follow Him. Both men have felt the “peer” pressure to legalize their marriages, and finally decided to do so.
There was no public announcement. The first we heard was on the ham radio when the O'Neils asked if we planned to attend the civil ceremony at the municipal building, scheduled for about an hour from then. Part of the reluctance in marriage is the big expensive party that is supposed to accompany the ceremony. So to help avoid the shame of not having one, things were kept private. We prepared by finishing breakfast and putting on “church” clothes, which are very casual here.
When we arrived for the 8:00 AM ceremony, we met the usual delays. The mayor was late, papers needed signed and recorded (in a different building), fees paid, etc. The couples were present, dressed in their best, (what we might wear to go to a family restaurant or shopping in the US). Reinerio also wore a hat. The mother of the men asked if Pad O'Neil and I would be witnesses, which required our presence and signatures. We accepted the honor.
Finally, the couples, family, and friends crowded into the mayor’s office. Reinerio and Maria sat across from the mayor’s desk on a bench, with Pad and me on either side. The mayor’s secretary asked a series of questions: name, age (22 and 18), did you complete elementary school (yes for both), can you read and write (yes for both), have you been living together (yes). They both needed to sign in seven places.
Then, they stood, and the mayor gave an exhortation that pleasantly surprised me. He reminded the couple, that even though divorce was legal on earth, it was not acceptable in God’s eyes. And even though the custom in Honduras was to live with three or more different people throughout ones lives, God recognizes only one marriage, unless death separates the couple. He then read some basic vows, which the couple agreed to, and presented them with a certificate. A friend was present to take pictures.
Next was Esteben and Gladys’ turn. It started the same. Neither of the couple had completed elementary school, which showed in their hesitancy in writing their names. There was some discussion over Esteben’s age. He thought he was 23, but he was younger than Reinerio, who was 22. Finally, it was agreed that he was 21. Then Gladys gave her age at 15, and things came to a halt. None of her family was present (they had bad feelings toward the men’s family, so they didn’t attend) and by Honduran law, the father needed to give consent if his daughter was under 18. After much discussion, the mayor’s secretary typed up a consent form, and off went Pad and Esteben to get Gladys’ father’s signature. Unfortunately, he was out fishing, but her mother signed, which the mayor accepted. The ceremony was completed (around 11:30), congratulations given, and everyone went their own way.
The next night was Saturday, and the day for the joint church service between our church in Lis Lis, and a sister church in Cerro Colorado (I will write more of these services at another time). This time it was in Cerro Colorado. We arrived to an elaborately decorated church building with balloons, streamers and banners. The people were dressed in their best.
The service started as one of the usual Saturday joint services. There was singing, Scripture reading, and a sermon, given by a guest speaker, all done with reference to the wedding. The sermon dealt with the marriage relationship as an image of Christ and the Church.
Then the wedding started. In walked the maid of honor, dressed in a fancy white gown, cutting the ribbons that were draped across the isle. We initially thought she was the bride. She was then followed by other attendants, flower girls, ring bearers, and the bride and her father. The ceremony was a carbon copy of a traditional wedding in The States, with the same symbolism of the ring, and the same vows. The dress included suits for the guys and dresses for the girls like in The States. Afterwards was a reception with cake, and elaborately wrapped gifts.
The comparisons and contrasts were interesting.
This Christmas more than any other, I think I was able to understand the meaning of being born in a stable. As we had our Christmas Eve service in the open-air carpenter shop in our church in Lis Lis, it really hit home. Becky was reading the Christmas story while Adam put flannel figures up to help visualize the account, and Abbie played Silent Night on the keyboard. I watched Jake and used the video camera.
Enter the animals. It was muddy. The floor was already sawdust covered, and the animal dung smells strong. A dog with diarrhea decided to add to the scene, then a couple pigs (which I doubt were present at the first Christmas) started to rub their backs against the flannel board. A cow mooed close by, and a donkey brayed more in the distance. Certainly not a place that I would choose to have a baby!
All around us, people were setting off fire crackers, drinking, and basically having a party, much, I would suppose, like the atmosphere at the inns in Bethlehem during the census. Our neighbors missed the significance of what we were meeting for in the carpenter shop, just as the people in Bethlehem had little knowledge of the baby being born in the stable.
I will never forget the Christmas Eve of 1999. I almost am sorry that there are plans for a workteam from The States to help build a church building in April for our little congregation. Even as we gain, we will loose something.
December 28, 1999
It was a night for firsts; my first sermon in Spanish (really more of a short devotional), our first time stuck in the mud, my first walk from the Balfate River to Pad’s for help (about two miles), my first time fording the river in the dark, and Becky and the kids first time waiting in the car, in the mud, next to the river.
My “sermon” was short, and I read it, since I am not quite up to speaking in Spanish off the cuff in public yet. I did compete with the squealing of two pigs across the lane that was being prepared for the making of the traditional holiday favorite here, tamales (mostly pork!). Prior to the service I examined Jose, the cabinetmaker, who had stroke like symptoms, while the entire congregation watched. I am very concerned with his problem, and am investigating the possibility of getting a CAT scan for him in La Ceiba. Please pray with us for him!
After church, we gave Jose and his family a ride home, then headed for Balfate. We had almost been stuck on the way to church, but I decided to avoid the same ruts on the way back. I started on a different path, but slid into the same ruts, this time with less success. After several attempts with logs and some people helping push, I decided to go for Pad and another vehicle.
I had already been in the mud half way up my legs, so the walk in the river to knee depth was not unwelcome. There are several things that are much more obvious when you walk than when you drive; the smells, the sounds (all natural), the mud, the stars (which are brilliant down here. The Milky Way is very clearly distinguished), the distance! It helped me appreciate what the Hondurans put up with daily, walking for hours in all kinds of weather (not snow, only warm types of weather). It also helped me appreciate my car more, and Pad, and the other vehicles!
