US politics from afar

                Being out of the United States for the last year I've had what has probably been a blessing in only getting snippets of the country's political news every month or so rather than the everyday sensationalized blown out of proportion bombardement I received living in the suburbs of Washington DC.  I think getting the news every once in awhile maybe gives me more insight into how repetitive it is.  Hearing it repeated over and over every day in slightly different words maybe almost convinces one that they are hearing something different, yet every month I am shocked at how little any of it changes.

                President Obama is always talking about working together, and this alternative universe he lives in where he thinks it is great that everyone in America can be friends and do things together.  Then there is always some maniac Republican of the moment shouting about how Obama is a socialist, a terrorist, a foreigner, or whatever other scary words they come up with, and how the rich people who took the economy apart have no obligation to the people whose jobs they imploded.  And members of the media always pretending to be disgusted by some outrageous comment this person made while at the same time devoting 24 hours a day to obsessively dissecting the comments they make, blowing them up into superstar celebrities.

                Most demoralizing of all is the never ending debate about whether government can do anything productive at all.  Its a debate that feels like it is taking place in this isolated, padded room where nothing else that takes place anywhere outside of that room matters.  It goes on and on like running on a treadmill without any new points ever being reached.  We are told over and over that government can do NOTHING to improve economic growth, and that if taxes go up from where they are now the United States economy cannot possibly grow.  We are told that no government who taxes more than ours does and spends more money on anything to help people can possibly be successful.

                And we buy into this mentality, while ignoring the fact that the Chinese economy is growing at a rate basically unprecedented in the history of the world, while the government mixes socialism and capitalism, organizing capital and labor to bring them together where they can be used most efficiently.  And we still scream about how government regulation can accomplish nothing as Brazil's economy continues to grow through the economic crisis and most economic experts say the reason is that they ignored US economist’s advice to deregulate their banking system.  It is impossible for a government that spends money on social programs to succeed we are told, as President Lula finished his second term last year with an approval rating over 90 percent, managing to dramatically increase spending on social services while at the same time growing the economy throughout the worldwide economic crisis.  And we are told that anyone who talks about Europe doing anything right is a traitor to the blessed USA.  I try to ignore the European backpackers who spend 6 months at a time on vacation in Central America and not compare them to the Americans I meet who away for a weekend breaks or perhaps a week and a half vacation.  It is un-American to acknowledge that European economies somehow managed to grow through the 90s and 2000's while their governments protected workers rights to an amount of vacation time most Americans barely would even dream is possible.  It’s better not to analyze living conditions in the US and Europe and just think "socialist" immediately whenever you hear the word Europe, it’s much easier on the brain.

                Then I look around me at Honduras, a country that the United States has run since it was a Spanish colony, and a country the US has always advised (read: ordered) to have government spending rates of around 0%.  I look at the city of 70,000 people I live in with only 4 paved roads, where the dust from cars on the disrepaired dirt roads makes it almost impossible to breathe.  Where the government hasn't felt an obligation to bring water or electricity to anyone, and even many upper class people have running water 2 days out of 7.  The government doesn't have money to defend its citizens, so there is virtually no police force, and the rich ride around in armored cars with private security while the poor have no one to defend them at all.  I wonder if this is what some American politicians aspire to, a world where NOTHING is guaranteed to those who don't have enough money to provide it for themselves.

                Even if you want to look at the US in a vacuum and ignore any examples from the rest of the world, US history contradicts this view that high spending and taxing can never work.  The US economy grew the most it ever has in the period after World War II, which was also when we had the highest tax rate on the wealthy (over 90% on the super rich).  So while Rush Limbaugh will go on and on about how a .2 percent increase in the tax rate paid by the wealthiest people will stifle growth and absolutely ruin our economy, US history proves that the economy can grow no matter how much you tax the rich.  Not only that, but the growth the US experienced after the war led to much decreasing levels of inequality.  You know, more money going to the "real Americans" in the heartland rather than to the "elitist" New York bankers that Republicans love to get their donations from and then rail against.  Maybe the next Republican President will decree that US history began with Ronald Reagan, the greatest figure in our history, and then the history of our post war growth will no longer be around to contradict their talking points.

                I feel often like American politicians hide behind this debate over whether government is inherently good or evil to avoid a debate over whether they are doing a good job in government.  Governments can obviously do bad things; the Holocaust and Stalin's purges were led by governments.  Most of the wars that kill so many of us are started by governments.  Yet its equally obvious that governments can also do good things to, like building the interstate highway system or developing the medicare system that allowed older Americans to afford the medicines they need to survive without working through their retirement.  So I find it equally ridiculous when politicians take this view that government spending is inherently good and should always be increased, I want to know what we're talking about spending money on.  I think spending on things like concentration camps, for example, should be kept low while spending on education should be high.  But American politicians don't want to talk about whether our government is spending money on the right or wrong things, they would rather argue about whether government is inherently good or bad, and many would like to pretend that it is impossible for government to do a good job at all.  Then when they fail horribly at their own job like President Bush after Hurricane Katrina, they can argue that it is because government in general is horribly incompetent.  It is not that Bush appointed incompetent people; it is that Bush was part of government, so it was impossible for him to be anything but an incompetent failure!  Their own failures just feed into their view that you shouldn't count on government to do anything right.  Can we just once before the next election talk about a strategy to make government work better or more efficiently, rather than just talking about whether or not government should exist?

                For all these reasons, I feel like for my sanity it is better to tune out the political debates in the States altogether.  My father recently told me I am wrong that it is staying the same and the debate is actually getting more and more angry and nasty.  Yet I just can’t go on watching people constantly debating things that have already been proven if you look at the world or at US history at al.  I can't imagine being like Paul Krugman, a Nobel Prize winning mind following the news cycle and writing the same exact arguments that should be so obvious over and over every week.  If all of history hasn't proved that the economy can survive a .2 percent increase in taxes paid by the rich, what can a weekly column possibly do?  Obviously the people in power and their constituency don't want to listen to reality or logic, no matter how clearly it is presented.

American English textbooks in Latin America

                Almost all schools I have encountered in Central America that teach English or teach classes using English use textbooks from the United States.  The reasons for this are obvious: Spanish speaking Latin American countries don't generally produce textbooks in English, and obviously the US education system produces a good volume of quality English textbooks.

                Our school is currently experimenting with an American ESL curriculum that was written for classes of immigrants totally immersed in English.  The books are challenging for our students, who are very new to English and have not been immersed in it to the degree that the American students have.  They can struggle through most of the material, however, and most students can be moderately efficient using the curriculums.

                There are some problems with using American textbooks, however.  Our textbook is extremely patriotic, and constantly talks about United States history, government and culture.  Patriotic American hymns are present in almost every chapter, and I’m talking about the really patriotic ones with the rockets and glorious colors of the flag and all of those huge globs of patriotism exploding in your face.  I generally skip these things because I don't believe Hondurans need to learn so much American history, and especially coming from such a glamorized perspective.  I would rather let them emphasize Latin American history with the Social Studies teacher, who is Honduran.  But I know many Honduran teachers using curriculums can be very by the book and follow textbooks religiously, and will not skip any sections when teaching.  Occasionally I meet students from top bilingual schools who know United States history and famous US folk songs but not the stories and culture of their own country and region.  They know about the US struggle for independence, but not the heroes of Honduras who fought for freedom against the Spanish.

                At the same time, I know many foreign teachers from the States also embrace the overemphasis of American history, believing it is right for the Honduran students to learn so much about our country, which is after all the greatest country in the fucking world as chosen by God and Jesus and superior firepower.  I know of one teacher who wanted a small town Honduran marching band to make an O like the band in his native Ohio.  Don't get me wrong, it is great for foreign teachers to teach about interesting things from their States, but I lot of teachers with these textbooks take it overboard, and many private Honduran schools raise little American children who identify more with the States than with Honduras.

                Teaching textbooks also will often talk about concepts, ideas, or ways of life that are completely alien to the Latin American students, like maps of American suburbs used to teach vocab.  I wrote earlier on my blog about a Honduran teacher who followed a textbook to teach 8 year old Latino students how to ask directions to the social security office.

                I had a moment teaching the other day where I wondered if I was teaching something that had any relevance to the student’s lives.  They were reading a story about how a boy in a small town in Pennsylvania decided to save an old historical theater that was going to be torn down to put in a parking lot.  So he had fundraisers to raise money for the theater and ended up putting articles in the newspaper and meeting with the mayor.  All the citizens rallied around him and they saved the theater.

                Obviously in the States that is an overly optimistic view of citizen's power in their communities, but it is also does relate to the way democracy works in the States when it is working at its best.  Yet in Olancho, Honduras where I live stories like this seem completely ridiculous.  I try to picture an Olanchano version of this story.  Let's say, for example, a student here wanted to save one of the national parks near the city that is rapidly disappearing under the influence of illegal yet unpunished logging.  Well, the student might approach the government and then both the government and the student would be threatened by the loggers and their drug cartel friends to let them continue breaking the law.  The student would back off or would end up being killed by the loggers and the mayor would be taken care of with a huge bribe and threat.  The police would know who killed the student but do nothing in response because they would be afraid of the cartels.  There is no local newspaper and the national paper probably wouldn't cover the event, so no one could even appeal to public opinion about the incident.

                Maybe this seems like a cynical treatment of Honduran government, and it probably is but is also honestly the way business gets done here in Olancho.  However, shouldn't students be learning about that reality rather than learning about a sugar coated version of organizing and democracy in a country so radically different from their own?  Shouldn't they learn about heroes in their own country that are standing up for their rights, like Jeanette Kawas, a Honduran woman who was killed by loggers for lobbying to protect a national park?  Because of her martyrdom the government protected the park in her honor.  But there are very few textbooks used in Latin America that teach the many heroes of Latino cultures.  The upper class Honduran children who end up going to University and being in positions to change their country grow up with American teachers and American curriculums.  Not only do they know American history much better than their own, but they know American history as told from the US perspective.  They learn about the US from the perspective of an American, but do they learn about the United States in relation to their own country?  They learn that in the States you are free to work hard and get ahead and do whatever you dream of.  The Honduran version of the US is that you are allowed to work for American companies here for 10 dollars a day, but forbidden to work even for minimum wage over in the States.  The American dream for the children here is being locked out.  What type of Honduran kid is going to want to read patriotic hymns to the US?  Or maybe most are so brainwashed by American consumerism and the textbooks that they don’t even think about their own relationship to the USA.

Private security in Latin America

                I spent a night recently in San Pedro Sula, the second biggest city in Honduras and the countries "industrial capital" as signs at the entrance proudly advertise. The overwhelming stenches of industrial waste and the smog pouring out of factories everywhere one travels confirms the proud claim.  San Pedro has a reputation as being incredibly dangerous, with one of the highest murder rates in all of Latin America.  Every week or so Honduran papers carry news of some type of massacre or atrocity committed by gangs in the city, and in many parts of the city walking even in daylight is considered dangerous.  I have heard stories about people being robbed at gunpoint in the city for a cheap cell phone or 10 dollars.

                So life in San Pedro is unliveably dangerous.  For the poor.  We stayed in a midrange hotel in the dangerous center of town, behind barbed wire fences with armed security guards.  At night we wanted to get dinner and the hotel had taxi drivers who work for them exclusively, so we didn't even have to step foot outside to look for a taxi.  So we took a taxi to the impossibly big City Mall that dwarfs those found in most American suburbs. City Mall tries to be subtle about that fact that it is a fortress patrolled by countless men with all forms of armed weapons, but its fairly obvious.  We went into an Applebee's where rich Hondurans with laptops sat out on an open air patio behind the men with guns using the free internet access provided by the mall, and I  suddenly felt exactly like I was back in the United States.  Then it was straight into a taxi without leaving the mall parking lot and swooped back through the chaos to our hotel door, needing to take less than 5 steps in the San Pedro night.  At around 7 o'clock the sun had barely set but the streets around our hotel were already rapidly turning seedy.  The only people we saw on the dark city streets were a fair number of prostitutes with their pimps, a number of drug dealers, drunks drinking straight out of plastic bottles, and homeless families curled up in doorways.

                The police force of Honduras is for all intents and purposes a joke, and it is known by everyone everywhere that the police don't do anything to help anyone.  Perhaps the Honduran police force is better than those in other Latin American countries where the cops actively make life worse by colluding with drug dealers and constantly abusing their power to steal money in bribes everywhere.  Generally speaking, the Honduran police force seems too lazy to even be corrupt; police officers sit at checkpoints guzzling Coke and occaisionally take bribes but don't go out really looking for any problems.  The only time I have really seen a cop move fast in Honduras was when I once heard gunshots near where I live and almost was run over by a police car flying as fast as it could in the other direction.

                So a poor person in San Pedro has no support from the police if his house in one of the slums is robbed, which is likely to happen because his house is more of a collection of rubbish patched together than an actual house with a strong lock.  If he has a bicycle or manages to buy a tv, he could lose it at any point to thieves unless he can afford a gun or do something to scare the neighbourhood robbers away.  And walking down the street at any point of day or night he can be robbed and lose the little money he has in his pocket.

                Meanwhile, those who actually have anything to steal fly by in their taxis, or sometimes armored cars driven by professional security guards.  They go to wealthy American owned restaurants and stores protected by the same private security forces, maybe spending in an hour of shopping what the slumdweller makes in several months of work.  Yet those who can afford to protect themselves are virtually as safe as they would be in an American city, they don't go anywhere that is not patrolled by their security.  And the poor slumdweller trying to sell tacos out of her house gets no upper class business because she has no security for laptop toting millionares who funnel their dollars back to the US at Wendy's and Applebees.

                This is the story of Latin American cities.  Levels of inequality that seem to be impossible to maintain; a million starving people staring in at the few thousand of the elite class, watching in awe as they spend money as if it is not even real.  And the rich few spend millions of dollars protecting this insane reality.  In Sao Paulo, Brazil, one of the world's most excessively unequal cities the elite fly around in helicoptors to avoid the traffic jams and danger of crime on the streets.  Department stores actually have helicoptor landing zones on their roofs so the rich can literally live in their own reality, soaring over the slums.  Sao Paulo has millions of people living in extreme poverty, yet more private helicoptors than Tokyo, New York City or Los Angeles.  Wouldn't investing in a police force and better roads to reduce traffic be cheaper than buying a HELICOPTOR??

                Latin American governments invest nothing in policing their cities but rather have privatized security for the rich, so that those with money can buy safety and the ones who hardly have anything can have it taken at any time.  I know members of the United States government are currently waging a war on all the services our government provides.  I wonder if the wealthy political class in the US is looking towards Latin America as a future model for our country.  As the US undeniably continues to get more and more unequal, more people may be desperately poor enough to committ crimes.  Will the government continue spending on police forces or will the wealthy move to gated communities and hire their own security?  Will we continue to use taxation to maintain order for the masses, or is that too socialist?  Under Donald Rumsfeld, the US began to turn to private security to fight our wars, with disasterous results and countlss scandals.  I sincerly hope our government grows up and begins to view things like public security as a duty of government, because I don't imagine myself ever having enough money to pay my own bodyguard!  American police forces aren't perfect by any measure, but they are paid and trained well enough to generally respond to crime and be responsive to people's needs.  Living in Honduras makes it hard to take this kind of public safety for granted.

Mangos and philosophy

                By far one of the best things about living in Honduras is the tropical mango season. I’d had mangos in the States before coming here but nothing like the ones I am eating now at the end of the season.  It is hard to find one that is perfectly ripe because they get mushy so quickly, but when you find ones that are maybe one day from going bad you can just cut one section of skin off and the rest will fall off by itself, as the mango falls apart in your mouth without even chewing it.  I don’t think I have ever tasted something as juicy, sweet or refreshing as a ripe mango in my entire life.

                One thing I love about mango season is that it feels like divine intervention that goes beyond our natural inclination to profit from and commoditize everything.  At the beginning of the season mangos cost about a dollar each for the big ones, and then 50 cents and then a quarter each, and every day through the season the mango stands seem to multiply until the mango section takes up 2/3s of the fruit market.  Now they are selling for 4 or 5 cents each and more often given away for free as there are far more mangos than there are mouths to eat them. We all eat them as rapidly as we can yet thousands and thousands go bad rotting in the street.  I love the idea that we have this huge organized capitalist system that makes a cup of coffee or a candy bar generally cost the same amount all the time, but that nature makes mangos virtually free for this month at the end of the season, which here in Juticalpa is also the driest and hottest part of the year.  I love the idea that all through Africa, tropical Asia, and Latin America the poorest people have this beautiful taste to look forward to all year and this one time where sweetness and nutrition are universally enjoyed, and can’t be denied to the poor.  I also like the fact that the mango season can’t be all year, and that’s its something you are forced to really enjoy while it is here rather than take for granted all the time.

                Another thing that I think is fascinating about mangos is that the mango season always comes at the end of the dry season.  Mangos are so unbelievably juicy and sweet, and yet it takes a dry season for a mango to form, as the water from the rainy season is absorbed and then takes several months to be formed into the mango.  I like to think this is very symbolic of life.  The dry season here in Juticalpa is just about the most miserable weather I have ever lived through.  It is often so hot and dusty that you feel like breathing is impossible as the air is so dry and heavy.  Everything is grey, there is no grass, and no birds can survive except the vultures that live off death and dirt.  Sometimes in life you may think you’re at the driest, deadest point you’ve ever been at, and life seems pointless in the darkness or greyness.  Yet is it often these seemingly terrible parts of life that shape you into something better or more beautiful.  So from now on whenever I feel like I am at my darkest I will think about how the mangos get their sweetness out of the dry season, and I will hope that something beautiful is being formed through my hardship.

11 year old orphans are great at manipulating me

                 At the bilingual school where I am teaching in Honduras, I teach mainly middle class Hondurans, which is an extremely relative term.  I also teach three orphans from a Catholic orphanage nearby, where children live either because they have no parents or because there parents are too poor to support them.

                One of them is a boy named Allan who at the beginning of the year was by far my worst behaved student.  He never sat in his seat and crawled around grabbing other students feet, and almost seemed to enjoy getting in trouble for the attention he got out of it.  I punish students by making them stay after class for 5 or 10 minutes, and when he got off without punishment he would often stick around the class annoying the punished kids until he ended up being punished himself.

                For whatever reason, he has started being better in class and I have been trying hard to get him to believe that he can get attention for improving his behavior rather than acting out.  I have no idea what happened but there are now days where he will sit in the front row quietly and pay more attention than anyone else.  But he still has days when he reverts to his old self.

                The other day in PE class he threw a rock at one of his classmates.  Rock throwing is one of those things that is viewed very differently in the developed and developing worlds, here it is very common for students to fight with rocks, and throwing rocks at dogs or cows is the accepted way to get them out of your path.

                Our class had just had a rock fight that sent a kid to the hospital however, and it was common knowledge that throwing anything, let alone rocks, would get a child suspended.

                I called Allan over.

                “What are you doing??  YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T THROW ROCKS.  DO YOU WANT ME TO SEND YOU TO THE DIRECTOR?  You want to be suspended?”

                “But I didn’t hit him.”

                “That’s not important you could have hit him.  We talk about this every day its so clear that you can’t throw rocks.  I don’t want you to get punished but come on man, we talk about it every day.”

                He sat and thought about it for a minute.  Then glared at me.

                “Look at you.  Always with the same shirt.  It's so dirty.”

                “Allan that's ridiculous.  I wear different shirts.  You have a uniform you have to wear every day.  So YOU always wear the same shirt!”

                “Yea but its always clean.  I never come with a shirt that dirty.”

                “That’s because you have nuns who clean your shirt for you every day.”

                “You’re so dirty.  Why do we have to come to school and listen to some dirty guy tell us what not to do?”

                “In the U.S we have machines that clean our clothes.  I am very bad at cleaning my shirt by hand.  I’m trying.  I also sweat a lot because its so much hotter here.  I have to bike to school and then I am sweaty from this all day.  I will try to clean my shirt a little better though.  OK?”

                He nods.  “Its ok. Just try a little harder.  No girl will like you if you walk around looking like that”

                He starts to run off to join the football game again.

                “Wait.  Stop!”

                He slows.

                “This wasn’t about punishing me for my dirty shirt.  Its about you throwing rocks at people and me punishing you, and even with a dirty shirt I can punish you.  Get back over here.”

                He smiles at how close he was to getting away with it.  I am terrible at this. 

Antisemetism and partying on the beach- Holy Week in La Ceiba

                Have you ever had one of those “cows in front of Carrion” moments?  Where you walk out of an air conditioned, modern department store and come face to face with 3 or 4 enormous cows blocking traffic?  It’s these kind of situations that I find myself in over and over again in Central America that make living here so interesting, moments when you feel unsure whether you are living in an Americanized modern culture or an isolated village frozen in time 100 years ago.  I believe these contradictions are a part of what makes life here so hard, and leads to people with barely enough money to eat spending half their income on the latest Hollywood fashions, but that is an issue for a different post.  This one is about Jews and partying.

                This week I was in La Ceiba, the city near where I used to live on the Honduran coast, for Semana Santa, or Easter week celebrations.  When I first got here La Ceiba seemed like an incredibly poor undeveloped place, yet after living far out in the countryside in a much less modern city, being in Ceiba was like being back in New York City.  I sat on an escalator in the mall fascinated as if I was in Times Square for the first time, overwhelmed by all the glamorous well dressed people and the clean, well ordered stores.

                After leaving the mall on my first day there I went to Wendys, binging on the American consumerism that has been so far away from where I am.  In Wendy’s in La Ceiba the menu is almost entirely in English yet pronounced as you would pronounce the words in Spanish (Bacon Cheddar con Frosty sounds a little ridiculous in Spanish).  There is free wifi, and a clean bathroom, and it is like a little slice of America packaged up and thrown down in the middle of a poor country.

                Walking out of the air-conditioning of Wendy’s into the scorching heat, I saw a group of men approaching me wearing terrifying, ugly masks of creatures with distorted figures.  They wore ragged clothing and carried plastic pitchforks, and went up to cars and pedestrians asking for money that was supposedly going to charity.

                I overheard someone nearby shouting at their child.  “MIRA! VIENEN LOS JUDEOS!“  Look!  Here come the Jews!!

                Welcome to Central America.

                Apparently this is nothing unusual here and something similar happens in towns and cities all over Central America and parts of South America, where there are also traditional burning of the Jew ceremonies on good Friday.  I remember watching Borat and his description of a “running of the Jew” ceremony in Kazakhstan, and how it seemed so prosperous and over the top in our modern, globalized world.  And yet here I was witnessing the exact same thing, right outside of a Wendy’s with wifi access!

                Being an American Jew I really had no idea how to react to this.  Honduras is a country with virtually no Jews apart from maybe 10 or 15 families in the capital, and it is obvious that this is not anti-semitism within any type of context, nor anti-Semitism that will ever lead to anything.  Although it likely happens around Easter time because of the idea of the Jews having killed Jesus, I doubt most people in the community are aware of that part of it, and just view the Jew as some kind of abstract boogeyman.

                No one in the country is likely to ever even have met a Jew unless they lived in the States or were near a Jewish Peace Corps volunteer who actually went through the trouble of explaining it.  I have not really talked about my faith with most people here except close friends because you are either Catholic or Evangelical, and bringing up the concept that other religions exist will generally just confuse people and lead nowhere.  Yet I can’t imagine that anyone who knew me and could tell that I was a normal human being would hate me based on being Jewish in Honduras, because I (hopefully) bear no resemblance to the creatures that paraded through the streets.

                It seems like the “Jews” are simply dressing up like we would for Halloween, and that they are actually doing a positive thing by raising money for charity.  The Spanish were just generous enough to give the colonies an ugly stereotype with no context that they could use to use in the celebration in addition to all the other great things they did for these people.  Yet even so, it obviously plays off a stereotype and image of the Jews that has led to persecution and death in many other parts of the world, and based on that I found the image depressing, despite feeling no ill will towards the people who dressed up as Jews.  It turns out one of them was actually a close friend from when I used to live there.  And its funny, all the time I knew him I never recognized that he was Jewish too until he took his little Hispanic mask off and revealed his true face!

                Anyways, Easter Week in most of Honduras correlates with both the driest and hottest part of the year.  Being a predominately Catholic country, everyone (besides the lower class workers who never ever have a day off) takes the whole week off to celebrate the Resurrection or whatever else they feel like celebrating. The correlation of this week off with the extreme heat leads to everyone who can afford it flocking to the coast.  Generally in La Ceiba, a less conservative part of Honduras where not everyone is strictly religious, you are either with Jesus or with the sinners, with very little middle ground.  You don’t find a lot of Hondurans who go to the pub Saturday night and church Sunday morning, either you’re with Jesus and don’t drink or you’re against him.  Within this context, we had the choice to either drink and dance on the beach for the whole week or go to church for the whole week.  I really would have loved the cultural experience of Easter week church services in Honduras, but due to fears I would be burned for being a Jew I regretfully had to go with the sinners this time.  Due to my journalistic need for cultural immersion, I felt like I really had to go all in to get the full experience, something I really wish my 3^rd graders could understand as I recover slowly and they are wild as ever.

                A long section of the beach in La Ceiba is lined with bars, discos, and little places that serve up any kind of sin you could ask for in its purest form.  Yet for Semana Santa, the beer company Salva Vida set up a huge tent that overshadowed almost everything else.  It was a two story open air structure that fit a few thousand people and had a stage in the middle, and around the sides there was a closed off area away from the music that led up to the beach.  Salva Vida is the biggest beer in Honduras, and the producers basically undercut all the other bars to sell directly to the consumers for this week, selling beers for about 60 cents while the other bars needed to take a cut themselves and sold for 90 cents to $1.50.  Another La Ceiba blogger whose post on Semana Santa I will attach below wrote that this meant that no money was staying in the Ceiba economy for the event.  I guess you can’t really argue with that, but it’s that old consumer gain/producer loss paradox from economic class, and in this case I saw a lot of consumers who seemed to be gaining quite a bit from the low beer prices.

                The same blogger also wrote about how much violence Semana Santa drunkenness leads to, but I actually was very surprised at the event by how peaceful it was.  There were thousands of people wandering the streets until the sun came up, in a country that many people advise you don’t go to because it’s allegedly so unsafe to even take a bus, and in 5 days of staying out late I only saw one fight and never felt unsafe for a minute.  Someone in Boston weigh in on the comments page, how many fights do you see in a given night going out drinking on Bolyston Street?  It is kind of strange because, while there were police officers around, it seemed like very few for the amount of drunk people around, and they weren’t really around at all except when an incident occurred and they came in for a couple minutes to pound on whoever was involved pretty brutally.

                I also was very surprised at how little cocaine and prostitution I saw in the areas where the main partying was going on.  I’m sure either could have been found with very little effort, but it wasn’t in your face in the way it often is in touristy parts of Central America, with every other person asking if you want to buy coke or are looking for a girl.

I talked to missionary friends who are totally against drinking in El Porvenir, a more rural area with a far more incompetent police force than was present at the event in Ceiba.  The beach there gets flooded for Semana Santa, and they said that they were very pleasantly surprised at how family friendly and safe it was there.  Of course, family friendly or not I have to question the parents who take their 3 year old kids to a disco until 3 in the morning.  But this is Honduras, I guess those kids have to start dancing early or they’ll fall behind.

                For me Semana Santa was interesting in really getting to see an entirely different class of Central Americans that I usually haven’t interacted with. Most tourists who could afford to get to the coast were university educated people from the capital or from Guatemala City who seemed to have a different outlook on life in many ways from the more campesino Hondurans I have had the most contact with.  I think interacting on the dance floor is a good example of this.  Normal Honduran discos are paradoxically very conservative yet in a sinful, sexual type of way, with no one ever dancing by themselves.  Guys stand around the edges looking for girls, then buy them a drink and begin to dance in a very precise, exact way, and anyone who deviates from the rules won’t last very long there.  In Ceiba’s Semana Santa, there were people dancing freely without these rules, in ways more similar to in an American bar where people aren’t afraid to look like idiots.  It seemed like a much more open environment than I am accustomed to in Honduras in other ways too.  People were dressed very liberally and in a variety of ways, and I saw actual hippies for the first time in Honduras.  I also met openly gay people, which in most social circles in Honduras would be absolutely unheard of.

                So I’m afraid I have to disagree with that popular La Ceiba blogger on this one.  Obviously La Ceiba’s Holy Week doesn’t have very much to do with Easter or Jesus, and yes people drink and party to excess; although certainly not more than on any American university campus on any given weekend.  But most Hondurans live in unbearably hot, dirty, miserable places where this time of year you can barely breathe through clouds of dust and exhaust hanging in the dry air.  It seems like having a week to take a break, go to the beach, and be excessive or sinful isn’t really the worst thing that can happen at this miserable time of year.  Of course, this escape from the painful reality of life only applies to the upper middle class and elite of the country, and the poor generally stay in their slums and cardboard houses dreaming of the year they can afford an Easter week trip to the coast. Yet you can’t blame the Semana Santa excesses for that reality.  This may sound crazy, but I would actually put more blame on the kings and conquistadors who destroyed a new land in an obsession with gold and created this bastardized hopeless society only to exploit it in the name of some righteous, holy, pious organization that burns Jews for Easter.  You know, like the Catholic Church!  Don’t mind me father, I’ll be right over here with the sinners if you need me.