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I arrived in Honduras on Wednesday, making it out of New Jersey just before the second big snow hit. Blair and Elias (a local businessman) met me at the airport and we took the 3 hour ride out to Copan Ruinas. Honduras is a beautiful country. It’s very green and lush. The ride to Copan was filled with beautiful scenery. When I was a child, I liked pretending that if I blinked my eyes, I would take a picture, capturing whatever scene I saw in my memory forever. On this ride, I wanted to capture a small and simple white home at the top of a small rolling hill with a foggy mountain backdrop.
Arriving in Copan Ruinas, I was impressed by the quaint town with cobblestone roads and colorful buildings. We unloaded the van and Blair and I headed to a local restaurant to meet Matt and Rachel (these are the three people initiating UrbanPromise Honduras). It has been great reconnecting with all three of them… great people enthusiastically pursuing their vision for the children of this town.
Since my arrival, I’ve been spending time with Rachel, Matt, and Blair, hearing about their progress since they launched UrbanPromise Honduras last summer and their plans for growth and development. I was also able to spend time at their AfterSchool program in Nueva Esperanza, a small area bordering Copan Ruinas. Among my favorite moments:
- Matt and Blair squawking like chickens as they taught the kids a chant called “Pollo Loco”. You may know the English version, “The Funky Chicken”.
- Rachel engulfing the kids in her hugs and their brilliant smiles that came in response.
- Watching the kids play water games where the object of the games shifts from getting your opponents wet to getting others to soak you as much as possible.
- Pouring a 24 ounce cup of water on Blair’s head to get the kids excited. They responded with a joyful chant, jumping up and down with their fists shaking.
What’s most exciting to me is to see how the UrbanPromise model is reaching another community and adapting to another culture. The kids engaged in high-energy games, songs, and activities that stimulate their academic, spiritual, and social growth. Teens are given responsibility in programs that challenges them to grow into responsible leaders in their community.
I’m excited to see how UrbanPromise Honduras grows and develops over the coming years and am encouraged in the work of UrbanPromise International as we train leaders and launch new ministries.
You can read more about the work of UrbanPromise Honduras on their blog at http://urbanpromisehonduras.wordpress.com/
When our fellows come from other countries to work with us, they have the opportunity to learn about the American culture and experience many “firsts” including their first American holidays. Charity (from Uganda) shares about his first Thanksgiving experience.
My first ever Thanksgiving celebration!
It all started with several mini-Thanksgiving dinners… then four big Thanksgiving celebrations with the AfterSchool program kids and their families… and the grand finale on Thanksgiving Day!
Initially, I watched others prepare seven turkeys for the first AfterSchool program feast and observed the American tradition of preparing turkeys. I then observed more closely as I inquisitively watched Garret (one of the Camp directors) stuff several more turkeys, little did I know that the following day was going to be my turn to spearhead the turkey baking crew for yet another thanksgiving dinner! With Garret’s strategy fresh in my mind, I managed to bake my first ever gigantic turkey which took at least five hours to prepare!
I was overwhelmed by more than 10 invitations from friends who were willing to celebrate Thanksgiving with me! I managed to spend Thanksgiving weekend with two families.
A friend of mine, named Denise, invited me to spend Thanksgiving Day with her family in Bridgewater, New Jersey. Denise’s father picked me up and we made the trek to Bridgewater. I was welcomed by very jovial and wonderful people at Denise’s house. I felt so good, loved, and secure.
A few minutes after our arrival, a very big golden-colored-nicely-baked turkey was laid on the table ready to be feasted on. The previous days I had been enjoying turkeys but this one looked extraordinarily delicious. It was not long when we were all called to sit around the dinner table to begin enjoying the nicely baked turkey. Denise’s father opened up the meal with a prayer in Spanish (of which I did not understand and my friend had to translate afterwards.) After the prayer, Denise’s mother unsealed the turkey out of a transparent bag, and as she did, the aroma of the turkey filled the room and I couldn’t wait to get a taste! In addition to the turkey, Denise had prepared homemade stuffing which tasted so good that despite my full belly, I had another helping!
Needless to say, the feast was a wonderful. This was a very warm feeling for me. I had never experienced anything like this huge celebration for Thanksgiving and all the traditions that accompany it.
Black Friday!
After Thanksgiving dinner and ice cream for dessert, my friends asked if I would want to go out for Black Friday. With all my innocence and naivety about this American day, I joyfully embraced it with passion and excitement. We went to the Mall (Best Buy) at Mid-night, and to my surprise, there were already more than 100 people lining up outside the mall! We later discovered that the first person in line arrived at 10:00am on Thanksgiving Day! That was hilarious!
So, in true Black Friday tradition, we stood in the growing line, anticipating the 5:00am hour when the doors to the Mall would open. When they did, the crowd swarmed in and started shopping. As for me, I roamed around Best Buy observing this phenomenon and I was stunned by how much money people could spend in a short amount of time. Carts were overflowing with 50 inch LDC TV’s, two to three laptops each, video cameras, and all sorts of electronic.
That experience blew away my mind! It was fun and crazy. I had a wonderful experience with these American traditions… all that just within 12 hours!
By Charity Alinda
UPI Fellow 2009-2010.
Halloween is not something we care about in Kenya. Very few people back home even know what it is all about. My interaction with this scary season was only on TV and books; my favorite being a comic known as Archie. Jughead, one of the characters visits a haunted house with talking gigantic spiders hanging on cobwebs as long as ropes, ghosts, Dracula, skeletons, talking mirrors and all. Jughead however is not shaken by any of these and at some point even asks the Dracula whether the stuff coming from his mouth (blood) is some jelly or something. And if so, could he also have some of the stuff and some Halloween cookies? He leaves all the scary people frustrated.
Based on Jughead’s experience, I quickly sign up to take kids to the haunted house at Eastern State Penitentiary, a closed prison declared as “the most haunted” in the US by the Travel Channel.
We are on our way there, Wednesday night in a bus full of excited kids. I am seated next to Patricia the only fifth grader brave enough to go. In the middle of a conversation she whispers, ‘Miss Winnie are you scared?’ I laugh out loud. ‘Who? Me? Scared? No sweetie! This entire hullabaloo about prisoners haunting the prison is all exaggerated. It will be nothing scary.’ She holds on tight to me and says that she will hold on to me that way as we go through the corridors of the prison.
The penitentiary is in Philadelphia’s Fairmont district, with an exterior resembling a fortress. Albert and Boston, camp directors pay for the tickets and we are ushered into the prison doors. Patricia reminds me that we are about to see ‘terror behind the walls’. There have been many reports of paranormal activities in this prison but I am not scared. We are divided into groups of six.
As we enter into the dark corridor, I feel a shudder go through my spine. A ghostly music fills the darkness, shadowy figures move along the wall. I hold on tightly to Patricia. ‘Miss Winnie you are scared!’ I just nod. My nod is interrupted by a piercing scream made by a shadowy figure with an ashen-white face with hideous scars streaks of dried blood. We scuttle through the corridors—I am screaming on top of my lungs.
Other shadowy figures appear from the corners and skeleton hands unexpectedly emerge from behind the walls trying to grab us as we flee. My scream goes a notch higher and my pace fastens even though it’s impended by Patricia who is clinging tightly to me. We run in the maze of sinister passageways to the prison infirmary where spine-chilling figures clad in hospital gowns with streaks of blood, and opened up bodies lay chained to the small beds.
Eastern State penitentiary was operated under the Pennsylvania system from 1829-1913. This system used by the Quakers required that inmates be kept in solitary confinement and were not allowed to communicate with anyone.
Prisoners were locked up in their cells except one hour when they left their cells with their heads covered in a hood to prevent them from seeing other prisoners. The prisoners’ cells had a toilet, a table, bunk and a Bible. This solitary confinement was meant to make the prisoners find God. However, this did not bear fruit and most sane people became mad. In hopeless need for human contact, the prisoners would whisper through vents or tap pipes. If caught the price would be very cruel. This included being dunked into an ice cold bath tub and being hung overnight from a wall. This punishment known as the ‘water bath’ was popular during winter months. The ‘mad chair’ was another brutal way to punish prisoners. They were strapped to a chair for days (without food or drink) so tightly that they could not make the slightest movement. Another deadly punishment included being put for weeks into ‘the hole’, a dungeon with little air and no light. Prisoners who violated the ‘no communication policy’ got the ‘iron gag’. They were strapped high behind their back, with chains on their wrists. An iron collar was clamped onto the tongue of the prisoner. Most bled to death.
As we scuttle through the dark prison corridors, the reenacted scenes with actors clad in orange overalls and hoods, screaming, howling, shaking chains, with some on hanging on the walls crying for mercy, my terror disappears and in its place comes anguish and pain. My pace slows and I pause to look at the faces behind the hoods.
When we come out of the prison, I realize that Patricia eyes are wet. “You are crying Patricia, what’s wrong?” Looking at me she says, “You are crying too.” I touch my face and it is wet. “Miss Winnie, I am crying because it I feel so bad they treated the prisoners so cruelly. Did you see their faces? Did you see the man who was chained to the wall? Did you see them clinging to the bars? ” I tell her I saw all that but remind her they were acting. “But they just portrayed what used to happen, didn’t they?” I nod realizing that this girl is thinking the same thing as me.
We walk to the bus, still holding each other’s hands. As other kids excitedly talk about their experience at the haunted house, Patricia whispers, “Miss Winnie, I will start praying for people in prisons”
I squeeze her hand tighter and close my eyes in prayer.
By Winfred Kiunga, UPI Fellow (Kenya)
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Growing up in Kenya, I had experienced fruit fights and water fights. Tropical fruits like mangoes, avocadoes, bananas, plums, oranges, passion fruits etc, were usually our weapons of fun. Everyone in our neighborhood grew them in plenty and so there was always an extra overripe one to throw at a friend. There were also homemade bombs for our enemies__ for neighborhood bullies especially. This is how we made them (Kindly don’t share this secret recipe). We gathered rotten eggs (sometimes we had to lift the chicken as they were sitting on them to hatch) and ashes. We put two eggs and a handful of ashes into a thin plastic bag and tied a knot to close the open end and the bomb was done. We shadowed the selected bully (I won’t mention names) then attacked from all corners with our bombs. They would explode on their faces and then we would run. The end result: an egg-ash faced smelling bully. What a joy we had!
We had Miss Megan’s birthday on Thursday and I bought a cake to share with our kids. We (the kids and I) planned to surprise her so we hid the cake in a different room and covered it well. We acted ‘normal’ when she came in, i.e. kids sang ‘happy birthday’ and gave her cards that we had made the previous day in her absence. She didn’t suspect anything. The kids did their homework and did not even whisper to each other mysteriously.
After homework time, all the kids followed me to the room to get the cake. Ms Megan was busy pinning their days’ point on to the chart so she didn’t notice we were away until we came in with the cake. She was genuinely surprised and overwhelmed. In the course of sharing the cake, Emmanuel, one of my favorites (all of them are really) ‘accidentally’ smeared Miss Megan’s face with some icing. She was at first stunned, then amused. Her response__ smearing back, brought fun-chaos (as I like to call them) and within seconds of the initial attack, all kids were ‘caking’ each other in the face. I got busy documenting such a hilarious moment; for my days at Urban Promise are made of these moments, which remind me so much of my childhood’s setting, though it is an ocean away.
Emmanuel helped clean up after there were peace talks between Ms Megan and the kids and there was cease fire; for as much as we also have fun at camp, we also teach values such as cleanliness!
By Winfred Kiunga
International Fellow
To read more about the Wilmington team's trip to Malawi and their time with UPI leaders and programs, visit http://malawiteam2009.blogspot.com/
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