JOURNEY TO HONDURAS

Amusement parks are a poor substitute for reality. Amusement parks? How about a third world country--up rutted dirt roads in the rain in the back of pickup trucks hugging the sides of mountains, with treasure and men with guns--not unlike the Pirates of the Carribean.

I go not to save the world--I know better--I go to save my soul ... and to reconnect--with the part of me I somehow leave behind each time I cross the border ... and with the rest of the world--the parts that relate us all :-). HO!

It may be impossible to put into words what I experience when I go, but I'll be working on it ... it's too moving to get lost, again, in my many memories simply because I have returned to the suburban bubble of the West.

Si no esta viviendo en el borde
Usted esta tomando demasiado espacio

... and I am taking up way too much room.

I have been asked to go annually to help with year-end accounting. Probably the most impact I had beyond my self was to successfully mediate between the two people on the ground in Honduras who are responsible for the health and welfare of hundreds of children, as well as their own employees and families, and the person in the States who raises the money to help pay for it. I will be reactivating my CPA status (simply by taking continuing education courses) and focusing on not-for-profit accounting. That I won't mind knowing I will be bridging two important facets of a practical endeavor. There are no street kids in El Progreso :-) With the backing of the legal system, George Mealer has rounded them all up.
Walking between worlds is what connects us--you and I. The border between order and chaos ... between control and letting go ... making love and making war ... Eros and Mars. And for me, an acute awareness of the fine line that separates them.

El tuyo,
Fiona :-)

Some of the hearts I won ... and who won mine :-)











Dance with the Zulus for me ... until I get to do it myself.