Although I’ve visited the home twice before, I knew going into this trip that there were parts of the ranch I hadn’t yet discovered. There are simply some things that you don’t notice at nine or even twelve years old, and three years is a long time to learn a lot. In that time, for one, I’ve taken two years of Spanish. Ask any of the travelers and they will tell you how useful it is, or how they wished they knew more. To be clear, I am far from fluent and I rely on hand gestures like most everyone else – but there are finally some things I can say and understand.

During the previous two trips, I enjoyed playing with the five and six-year-old pequeños almost exclusively. I was able to use my very limited Spanish as an excuse for how much I didn’t want to interact with older pequeños and potentially embarrass myself in front of people who were my age. I told myself, and others, I shouldn’t even try and that way I didn’t have to do anything that made me uncomfortable. This time, I had no such excuse, and I’ve learned that was for the better.
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On the first night, there was a dance night held in a play shelter by the workshops, which are known as talleres. A couple of guys dragged down the speakers and played music from what they set up on the small corner stage. At San Cristobal – the visitor’s house – Amber and I were debating whether to go dance or to rest for the night, and decided we had to at least see what it was about because we could always leave early.

We showed up about fifteen minutes after the official start time and saw that on one side of the shelter the visitors sat on some benches, and on the other there were a few pequeños of all ages. Most were still trickling in, so we found some space to sit with the visitors. Eventually, there was a good number of people on the benches and we figured that we couldn’t leave right then, because we’d be the only movement on the dance floor and everyone would see us bail. Some might even follow our lead, and what a party that would be.

So we waited, and after a bit, the tiniest pequeños from Casa Suyapa arrived and found their place with their tias on the benches. Amber and I decided then that if we didn’t get this party started, it wasn’t going to happen. We dance-walked over to the tiniest pequeños and held our hands out in invitation. A couple of antsy pequeñas took them, and we started a circle in the middle of the shelter. The rest of the pequeños watched, looking a bit bored.

The whole time, I could see the older pequeños on their benches and I really wanted to ask them to dance, so I churned it over in my head. What would I say? How do I approach them? What if they say no? I knew that if I could figure out the answer to any of these questions – and unlike my last two trips, I could – I’d be more likely to actually end up dancing with them that night. But fear won over as I worried that their rejection would be a lot harsher than the five-year olds, and I didn’t try to answer them.

After about five minutes, hopping with tiny pequeños gets old, and by that time there was enough happening that Amber and I could sneak off. As I fell asleep that night I heard the music, still blaring, along with some shouting and air horns. I was content knowing that the older pequeños had some fun, even if it wasn’t with their visitors.
 
On Wednesday, there was built-in time for families to play with their godchildren, and visitors without godchildren were paired up with other pequeños. I was paired up with a 13-year-old girl, and once again, I was worried about embarrassing myself. The same questions came up: what do I say? What do we do? What if it goes wrong? Luckily, I remembered this girl from earlier that day, when the group was touring the talleres. I knew she worked in the taller de belleza, or the beauty workshop, and to the best of my ability I asked her about it. As we walked to the shelter, I struggled through where I was from, how old we were, and what we like to do.
 
Amber was paired with a cute pequeña from Casa Suyapa, and they molded different animals from play dough, which didn’t require much conversation. I suggested to my pequeña that we play Uno, not knowing any of the rules to the ranch’s very intense version. In the beginning we didn’t talk much, but we laughed when she shuffled the wrong way, when I thought a 9 was a 6, and when she won for about the third time.

After a few minutes her friend Pablo stopped by and sat by her while we played. They talked about something I didn’t understand (I might have if it was slower) and laughed together. Like the end of the dance night, I was content knowing she was having fun, even if it wasn’t with me. I talked a bit with Amber while we played, and she talked with Pablo.
 
By the time Pablo left, I had a pretty good grasp of the ranch rules – but still never won. Another one of her friends stopped by at the end of a game so I dealt her in, and that’s when I was exposed to real Ranch Uno in action. I must have not been playing it right before, because by the second turn of that game, her friend got a +8 was standing over the table while she played. I managed to keep up with a few words of Spanish.
 
Certain words were thrown around after wild cards, +2s, and swap hands (I’ll just say that my vocabulary has expanded), and that’s when cultural boundaries really started to disappear, and I really had fun. I didn’t talk much, but I knew what they were saying, and I followed the game. Our scheduled time together flew by. Although that time was organized, and I didn’t have an alternative activity, I’m glad that I could devote some of my limited time in Honduras to doing something that pushed me out my comfort zone, and to something I had avoided the last two trips. It’s a challenge for next time, too, to spend more time with older pequeños and to work on what Spanish I’ll know by then.

As I gathered with the group at the airport on Friday night to drop Molly off I thought how much I would like to go with them.  It felt familiar: this excitement, sense of adventure, curiosity, camaraderie. Twice before, I traveled to Honduras on trips like with this one, and with folks from this current group.  We have a shared appreciation of what it’s like and I wanted to be part of it again.

During our time together on Sunday, St Andrew prayed for the group. We shared part of a letter Scott sent updating us on their progress.  We noted what time the NPH community would gather for mass thinking and appreciating how we would be connected in those relative acts of worship.

We talked about the importance of NPH’s concern to protect their children from “voluntourism” and our perception that the leadership and structure of the trips takes care to guide the visitors to understand that the family at NPH are not a “project” but rather offer a place of joy and care and love to their friends who visit; a place where we can get a glimpse of how the generous Spirit of God is at work in the life of the ranch and in the visitors’ lives.  We looked at pictures of the many people and multiple relationships that have grown over the years with folks at NPH in Honduras and beyond. Roger noted the line of a hymn we sang in worship that spoke to his journey with NPH:

Will you leave yourself behind if I but call your name…
Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same.
 
and speaks to the possibilities that exist when we leave behind our assumptions and bring sense of vulnerability and humility to our encounters with the others, whether on trips like this one or in our everyday lives.

The group came up with a few questions we’d like to ask the travelers.  If they have time, maybe some of the group can reflect back what they think of these via the blog or on July 22nd when we hear about the trip at church.  We also love reading whatever comes up for you as you make this trip.

• Are there things you are experiencing that make you want to live differently?
• Do you know if political stressors and uncertainty in Central American countries are increasing the demands on NPH?
• How do NPH make sure their children don’t get tired or overwhelmed by visitor’s needs?
• What is it like to be with a larger group of folks not from St Andrew?  Are you learning anything through that experience?

We are holding you in prayer, dear travelers, and praying for our family at NPH.

Day two, and……WOW! How interesting and what an experience already. Several other visitors here with us from Washington as well, and Donna, Ross, Glory & Anna are awesome leaders.
 
Yesterday I played basketball, football and soccer with the kids at what I’ll call the “court yard.” Wore me out until I chilled by just stopping to take photos and simply look around some more and take in all that happiness 😊. I chose to visit the elderly today. Enlightening. Helped make a hammock and fixed Pedro’s phone charging cord. Pedro has muscular dystrophy and is in a wheel chair. He wants me to come back soon to wheel him around outside, to which I said I would!
 
Gotta run……in the middle of a meeting! So long 4 now!

Hola from Honduras!
 
We had a very interesting day. Met several University students who came to Honduras as babies or small children. Their experiences are so inspiring and wonderful to know how far they have come in their studies. Their excitement about life and the future is genuine.

Many are studying biology, psychology, social work, and teaching.
 
I have bug bites and I stepped in a cow pie. Tomorrow I will work in the garden with my grandson. He will be my translator.
 
This is a warm wonderful place. The children are blessed to be here and I am blessed to be a visitor and experience all this has to offer.

Pictures by Marie West-Johnson

A quiet, gentle flight allowed for a few hours of sleep—at least for some of us—while the horizon burned orange and red out of the plane’s eastern windows. We awoke as the plane stepped us down out of the clouds and Houston, already awake, sprawled out almost endlessly beneath us. A morning walk from E16 to C30 took us past one gate after another with their announcements of “adventure” and “home” and who knows what: Las Vegas, Mexico City, Chicago, Tegucigalpa.

There is something about travel that reminds one of how big and rich the world is.

That we are going to a home that is, for many of us, familiar, is one way we know this to be true. More will be written about this in future posts, I suspect. There is another indicator as well—a group of strangers we are joining on this third round. Nearly 40 of us all together, from Seattle environs, from Chicago. There’s another group of travelers as well. A quick conversation with an orthopedic surgeon and his daughter from Maryland who are joining a surgical brigade for the same week reveal this fact. Accommodations for this group have been completed since our 2015 visit so the place may be busy this week.

A toddler eager to adventure. A surgeon eager to heal. A student eager to try out her Spanish.  Much we share! Gifts of God for the people of God.
 
You remember it has been said, the church is the place where we have not forgotten we belong together. Then, who knows? This just might be church of a sort.

This time around we have 8 from St. Andrew joining with a large group of more than 30 for our July 7-14 trip. Ross Egge, who used to be one of the directors of Rancho Santa Fe, the ranch that 480 kids a host of others in Honduras call home, is now Regional Director of the Pacific Northwest offices. He and person extraordinaire Donna Egge (yes, his mom!) will accompany the group on this trip. It feels like we have a history here, which is kind of the point.
Or at least one of them.
 
It also feels new. For one thing, we are only a part of a much bigger group. That will be different for us, but surely filled with possibility for sharing, the cross-pollination of ideas, and the like. We have a mix of “seasoned” veterans and new folks. Pattie Holt, Amber Oakes, Molly McAdams, and I are all anxious to reunite with a community that has become dear to us. Craig and Marie (West-)Johnson, and Marie’s daughter and grandson Andrea and Brandon Whirt are going for the first time, although they bring insight and language skills that will serve them and us well!
 
We also have a growing group of NPH alumni who are paying attention to what’s happening, and asking how we best continue our relationship with NPH and allow our experiences to “live” at home. Maggie Breen will be providing some leadership in helping us to think about these questions.
 
For the moment, we are grateful for your support, which has shown up in myriad ways. Your generosity continues to astonish as we leave having more than enough money to make the trip, and to offer NPH an extra unrestricted $1000 to support their ongoing work. So does your engagement, and of course,  your prayers. For those, we are especially grateful as we make our way.
 
 So I hope you’ll follow along as this story develops. We’ll have pictures to show you and stories to tell. And with you, we’ll pay attention to what God has in mind.