Missionary Problems: Part Two

Here at the Teacher's House, we frequently find ourselves talking about how we are missionaries. And how not one of us feels called, or qualified, to actually BE a missionary. We aren't living in stereotypical missionary housing, we have access to a lot of North American conveniences. Our day to day life doesn't make us feel like we are making these huge sacrifices in the name of Jesus Christ.

And truthfully, I don't actually know that we are. Nothing that is going to be visible to us anytime soon anyways. But then I read this article that I saw posted on Facebook and more than one point resonated with me.

So maybe, despite what I think I am capable of, I am being called to be a missionary to these wild, crazy, wonderful children. In my mind I'm "just their teacher", but maybe it's something more than that.

While I couldn't fully understand all of the points that were made in the article 8 Reasons You Should Never Become A Missionary, there were two that stood out to me.

Number One: Don’t Become a Missionary if You Think You Are Really Pretty Great, Spiritually-Speaking.
There’s nothing like moving to a foreign country to reveal all the crap that’s in your heart.  Seriously. I have cussed more, cried more, been more angry, had less faith, been more cynical and, generally speaking, have become in many ways a worser person during my last two years of serving in Asia. Call it culture-shock if you will, but I tend to think the stress of an overseas move thrusts the junk that was conveniently- covered before out into the blazing-hot-open.

Number Two: Don’t Become a Missionary to Find Cool Friends.
Now, I’m not saying you won’t find amazing friends– maybe the best in your life– but there is no denying that the mission field can draw some pretty odd ducks. {Of which, I, of course, am not one. See #7 regarding my natural humility.} Don’t be surprised, though, if you find yourself in a church service with ladies wearing clothes from the 80′s singing praise songs from your middle-school years like Awesome God, but without even the drums. Don’t be surprised, too, if your social interactions are awkward at best with many of your fellow mission-souls. Living out the in jungles for twenty years might do wonders for your character and strength and important things, like, oh, the translation of the Bible into another language, but it can sure do a number on a person’s ability to shoot the breeze in a church lobby somewhere.

I will whole-heartedly agree with both of these statements. My life is a living testament to both of these statements. My life has become messier and more socially awkward since my arrival to Honduras in August.

But at the same time it has been more abundantly blessed than at any point in my life.

It's Amazing What A Year Can Do.

Exactly 365 days ago I was embarking on my Honduras adventure for the first time. It has been 365 days filled with laughter, learning, heartache, homesickness, new friendships, new languages, tears, challenges, and love. While these past 365 days have been difficult while simultaneously being absolutely wonderful, I cannot help but to think back to this day one year ago.

I remember how I held it all together until I landed in Houston. Feeling the wheels touch the runway somehow solidified the whole adventure for me. I couldn't call anyone and tell them that I had landed in Houston because I knew that as soon as I heard a voice from home, from the life that I was leaving behind, the tears would begin to fall.

I remember walking to my gate in Houston (ironically, that's been the only time I've ever been able to leisurely walk to my connecting flight) so mad at myself for packing my sunglasses in my checked luggage. Because wearing sunglasses through the airport would have been less conspicuous than the tears rolling down my face.

I remember arriving at my gate and sitting between a Honduran man and an American woman. I was texting Lacy because I knew she was the only person who would understand my freaking out. The Honduran man was slowly inching away from me as a sobbed and the woman kept shooting me compassionate looks.

I remember looking forward to having a 3 hour flight spent looking out the window and crying to myself, but instead ended up sitting next to a boy who was about 6 or 7 years old. Hids dad took a nice three hour nap while the boy talked to me the entire way-- clearly unconcerned with my crying.

I remember telling myself to pull it together once I made it through security because I didn't want Dave and Lindsay to think that I was a big weirdo for sobbing as I got off the plane. And Lindsay asking if I wanted baleadas to eat, but not knowing what those were. (How times have changed, right?)

I remember the car ride back and Sigua and wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and sleep for days. And not panicking again until we pulled onto 21 when I realized that this was official official.

I remember having spaghetti dinner at Dave and Esther's house with all of the teachers. I really thought I had it pulled together and that I was being great and social. Until Cristian later told me that I was a total drag that night and all of the new teachers were so boring and unfriendly that he thought about going back to his old school.

So many things have happened in the last 365 days. I've cried, I've laughed, I've learned, I've taught a little (I hope). In 365, Siguatepeque has gone from an unknown place to my home. To a place that I have a hard time leaving.

Here's to the next 365 days.

I'm BAAAAACK!

After four long, wonderful weeks in the States I have returned to Siguatepeque for another year of adventures with my friends and with my students. Before the classroom gets set up and the students come, my sister and I spent one week raging around like fools and enjoying the Central American sun.

Flight from Atlanta to San Pedro.

Sarah's first baleadas.

Girl time with Miss Grace

My sister is my best friend.

Comayagua <3

Water Island. Whaaaat?

My sister is my best friend. Sigua is my favorite place in Honduras. Put them together and it was an unforgettable week with the two great loves of my life.

I Don't Ever Want To Leave This Town

Somewhere between sobbing at the airport in Houston and seriously regretting my decision to move to Honduras while driving past the lake in August and shooting off fireworks while saying our goodbyes in June, I have completely fallen in love with living in Siguatepeque.

It's a slow, slooooooow paced life. But it's MY life. A life that includes Spanish and catcalls and baleadas and a motorcycle. And 50 wild, spunky, energetic, children who wear me out while simultaneously bringing so much joy to my life.

My love for Siguatepeque and my love for my students is calling me back for another year. I'll be resuming my position as the Grade One and Two teacher, but hopefully I have things a little more figured out this time around. In our education classes at Ashland, our professors always told us that we shouldn't smile until October. At the time, I thought it was crazy. But now I see the truth behind it. Sorry guys, but there's going to be a new Miss Caitlin in town.

While I have only been home for four days, I am stuck in a weird place of missing one of my homes, trying to enjoy my original home, and anticipating my return trip home. It's difficult to explain to those who have not experienced it, as well as somewhat hurtful. I lived in Ohio for 21 year and all of a sudden I'm incredibly homesick for a country that I have only lived in for 10 months. There's an article What Happens When You Live Abroad which accurately portrays how I've been feeling these past couple of days.

At first, the article seemed really harsh. I may have cried upon reading and thinking that I would never fit in anywhere ever again. I was going to be some weird, wandering nomad for the rest of my life. And I had chosen that lifestyle for myself. After finishing a year in Honduras, though, I can better relate to the author and would agree 100%. Without tears.

My favorite part?

"So you look at your life, and the two countries that hold it, and realize that you are now two distinct people. As much as your countries represent and fulfill different parts of you and what you enjoy about life, as much as you have formed unbreakable bonds with people you love in both places, as much as you feel truly at home in either one, so you are divided in two. For the rest of your life, or at least it feels this way, you will spend your time in one naggingly longing for the other, and waiting until you can get back for at least a few weeks and dive back into the person you were back there. It takes so much to carve out a new life for yourself somewhere new, and it can’t die simply because you’ve moved over a few time zones. The people that took you into their country and became your new family, they aren’t going to mean any less to you when you’re far away.

When you live abroad, you realize that, no matter where you are, you will always be an ex-pat. There will always be a part of you that is far away from its home and is lying dormant until it can breathe and live in full color back in the country where it belongs. To live in a new place is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and it can show you that you can be whoever you want — on your own terms. It can give you the gift of freedom, of new beginnings, of curiosity and excitement. But to start over, to get on that plane, doesn’t come without a price. You cannot be in two places at once, and from now on, you will always lay awake on certain nights and think of all the things you’re missing out on back home."

Ohio and Honduras. Two very different places. Two places that will hold my heart forever.

The First Last.

I. Did. It.

We're sexy and we know it.,

Friday, May 31 marked my first last day of teaching. I still have a month of curriculum planning and recuperation exams, but as far as full class instruction goes, I'm all done.

We spent the day at Los Salmones, the local pool. And by we, I mean Grades 1 through 6. And it was insane. Awesome, but insane. Grades 1 and 2 arrived at the pool around 8:30am and the other grades trickled in soon after. By 9am we were all at the pool, dunking each other, throwing each other in the pool, and having a great time until we left around 12:30. A little fried chicken for lunch and the rest of the afternoon spent playing on the playground. Easily one of my top ten favorite days of the school year.

While the Spanish teachers spent a lot of time observing from the sidelines, the English teachers had no problem jumping in and getting their feet wet. Literally. Grades 1-4 were all hanging out in the little baby pool, so Cristian, Nelsy, and I spent a lot of our day acting as human jungle gyms. At one point in time we were making a whirlpool and I had upwards of five children hanging onto me. Photographic evidence above.

I couldn't have asked for a better first year of teaching. Don't get me wrong, it was HARD. Really, really hard. Not only did I have to tackle my first classroom on my own, but it was in a culture completely different from my own, thousands of miles away from my family and friends. But I learned so much throughout this first year. And not only about teaching, but things about myself that I didn't know before.


There have been so many ups and downs throughout the past ten months. But saying good-bye to my kiddos on Friday, despite the fact that I will see them at the clausura in two weeks, was way more difficult than I could have ever imagined.



L One. As in Last One. As in Last Day of School.

My kiddos are all so much more grown-up than when I met them in August. I cannot believe that my Grade Two babies are grown-up Grade Threes now. Where did time go? Is the last day of school always this difficult? Because I don't know if I can do this every year for the rest of my life.



A Bulletin Board For Every Season.

Or at least a bunch of bulletin boards for the end of the year.

I've been blessed with lots and lots of bulletins boards in my classroom, as well as a huge wall in the back that is perfect for displaying student work.

Sometimes I'm really slacking on my bulletin board and my room ends up looking like one giant corkboard. Other times, like now, it actually looks like a real classroom.

We're currently sporting two seasonal bulletins (both counting down the days until summer) as well as one that's been up for a little bit longer.

We've got a working bulletin board with a library pocket for each student. Inside each pocket is an index card. At various times throughout the school year, we write a journal on the index card as opposed to writing in our journals. I provide the prompt and when the students are finished writing, they put the card into the pocket with their picture. The students can then read other students responses during centers or when there is extra time. Our working bulletin board was a big hit when we were talking about Dr. Seuss and each student had to write about their favorite Dr. Seuss book. Ironically, book recommendations are way cooler when they come from your friend as opposed to your teacher.

Our countdowns to summer are probably my favorite parts of my classroom right now. And not because we're counting down the days, but because I actually like the way that they look.

"Don't be and Angry Bird! Only _____ days until summer!" And the student helper of the day gets to write how many days left on the little Angry Bird. The student helper of the day also gets to pop one of the Bad Piggies balloons each day to reveal an special activity. Things like "write in marker instead of pencil", etc.

Our second countdown to summer and seasonal bulletin board includes a paper chain, a balloon rainbow, and pictures of each student wearing sunglasses. The bulletin board says "Our future is so bright, we have to wear shades!" and each student got to wear Miss Caitlin's sunglasses for a picture. We're pretty big on displaying pictures of the students in the classroom, as well as their work. After all, it's their classroom too.

And lastly, we had a little Language activity at the culmination of our unit on verbs. The students colored a picture of an Angry Bird and then had to write a sentence including a verb on it. They LOVED it. LOVED. It. As long as I make anything related to Angry Birds, the students will pay attention. Definitely something to consider for next year.

Miss Caitlin learned a valuable lesson in bulletin board making this year-- a border can make or break the whole bulletin board. You would think it doesn't. But it does.

What Could Be Better Than Bring Your Child To Work Day?

Bring Your Pet To School Day.

Mmhmm, yeah. As part of the Siguabucks store for Parcial 3, the students could buy passes to bring their pet to school for a day. That day was today. We had a nice little zoo going on-- an array of puppies, some birds, guinea pigs, hamsters and mice, and I think I saw a turtle.

Can we please recall all of the difficulties I have had with Grade One as far as behavior goes this year? Let's just add four puppies and see how that works out.

Surprisingly well, actually. The students had their clips moved immediately if they were out of their seat for any reason, at any time because it wasn't safe to be walking around with all of the puppies. And we couldn't talk too loudly because the puppies wouldn't like it. It's just too easy sometimes, really.

Highlights include:

- Miss Caitlin trying to get the entire class to settle down, be quiet, etc, etc and saying "I don't want to hear a sound come out of your mouth unless you are a dog."

- Various students telling Toby that Miss Caitlin would move his clip down if he didn't stop whining.

- A collective "Toby! SHHHH! BE QUIET!" from Grade One. Oh, the irony, right?