A place called home

Since I've been going to El Hogar, one of the most important and transforming events of the trips has been the visits to where the kids come from. Claudia Castro, the director of the elementary school, operates as a social worker for the families of the children. She makes periodic visits to the homes and neighborhoods from where she's rescued these kids and works to salvage the whole family system. Often, we are honored to be invited on these visits.

To be honest, home visits have become more and more difficult for work teams. As a large group of fair skinned gringoes, we do stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. As the economy and infrastructure in Honduras has recently deteriorated, taking us into these sketchy neighborhoods has become less and less safe.

So, our hosts have found it necessary to take us to homes that are near El Hogar and accessible so we can get off the street quickly.

One of these homes that of our friend Marvin. His mother and two sisters live only five minutes from El Hogar.
















They share there dwelling with another woman with a daughter and together they make ends meet making tortillas to sell. They earn about 800 Lempiras ($40) a month. Their rent is about 600 Lempiras.

















The home is a single shack mostly taken up by a bed where they all sleep together. The entire structure is about 8x8, nevertheless it is one of the "nicest" homes I have visited in my trips Honduras.
















Though is it small, with cardboard walls and a roof held on by rock thrown on the top, it has a floor, and some electricity. The whole group of dwelling has a hose which allows them to a flush toilet and hopes of cleaning themselves.

As we have driven through the city, we have looked over whole neighborhoods - thousands and thousands of dwellings, just covered with homes which are probably not as nice as this one. It is intolerable. The toll it takes on children alone is incalculable. For any of us reading or writing this blog, living in such conditions would be outrageous.

I have to go back to El Hogar and realize that hundreds of lives are being saved and transformed. But I can never quite be at peace thinking of those we who are left behind.