Observations from the Third Floor (Beauty and Wonder Amid Poverty)

In Casa Guadalupe – the Friar retreat center where we stay in Honduras – there is a steep metal staircase leading to the roof.  It provides an expansive view of the surrounding countryside and also allows you to observe life going on down below in the local neighborhoods.

The sunrise from the rooftop

The scenery is breathtaking and one cannot omit God’s Glory in his creation.  Tall, rugged mountains rise up on either side of the valley where Comayaqua is located.  It is easy to see why it was the capitol of Honduras back in colonial times; it is well protected inland and there was an abundance of mahogany and banana trees.  However, the mahogany is gone.  Land has been stripped of good soil after years of exploiting the natural resources, which is common in many countries in Latin America and Africa.

The mountains where we have been working all week

As I look down below, I see striking juxtapositions. Boys washing themselves (and their bikes!) in the nearby stream; women doing laundry; delivery men carrying chips to the “pulperias” (corner stores with snacks and soda); and men on bicycles balancing loads of sticks on the handlebars.

Grazing horses early in the monrning

All around us, vultures fly and wait.  The rock-hewn roads with gulleys and weeds are littered with trash.  The smell of burning garbage permeates the air.  Burros and bulls wandering looking for something to eat.  Yet the beauty of the tall ficus trees, small colorful wildflowers, and sincere friendliness of the Honduran people compete for your attention.  Roosters are crowing, day or night, somewhere in the distance.  Geckos chirp like birds.  Grasshoppers (locusts) so big they would not fit into your hand.

As I gaze out into the landscape, buzzards by the tens wait in one particular dead tree (how fitting).  They wait with their wings open to stay cool.  Dogs chase them like squirrels.  No barking, just a playful romp and the buzzards flap, hop in the air, then land in the same place.  The vultures and dogs compete for the same food, whatever it is.

The oxen cart passes by.  Sometimes old noisy trucks drive by with wood or fruit.  Women walking with bags of (?) balanced on their head.  It is 6 a.m. and the day is well underway.

Typical scene

The distractions of daily life in the U.S. do not follow us here.  We are amid the simple, and often times, cruel life which poverty can bring.  But the joyfulness you encounter with the Hondurans is not based on how much they have or size of their house.  For most, their house is a simple mud or adobe brick, one-room home with a cooking pit outside. 

From the roof top

The Hondurans we meet have a simple and almost child-like joy of Faith.  We in the U.S. have everything but many do not have that spiritual joy.  So is poverty based in lack of material goods and daily needs or an emptiness of spirit?  What is your poverty?

Mary