Last Day at the Hospital (July 28)

On our way to the hospital, a horse in the road appeared to be confused, trying to eat something on the pavement which was not there. Tom managed to snap a few good photos of cars braking or going around the horse, since each time the animal began to leave the road, it turned around and went back toward the road’s center. Just before reaching the hospital, we saw Yosser approaching on his bike, and he stopped to talk to us. When he learned that we were not being paid for any of our work, he was quite surprised.

While still talking to Yosser, we saw Jairo working on the roof, and he motioned for us to join him there. We then said our final goodbye to Yosser and went to work. Climbing onto the roof, we searched all around but could not find Jairo. After climbing back down, we asked other maintenance staff where Jairo was, but were told that he was still on the roof. Now back on the roof again ourselves, Esau, the oxygen tank manager, came to talk to us and take pictures. We then left the roof the usual way, by jumping off onto the giant water tank.

When we finally found Jairo, he took us down town in his truck to buy a cake for our going away party. First, however, we stopped by a local shop, where the hospital bought us Olanchito t-shirts. Next to the cake shop, we happened to see Maritza, who was helping us to plan our upcoming trip to Tegucigalpa. From Olanchito to Tegucigalpa is only a four to five hour drive through the department of Olancho. However, absolutely no busses travel on this convenient route because of the high frequency of murder, robbery, and bus hijacking. For a ride to Tegucigalpa, we must travel from Olanchito to La Ceiba (2-3 hours), La Ceiba to San Pedro Sula (3-4 hours), and finally from San Pedro Sula to Tegucigalpa (6-7 hours). Maritza called the hospital administration for us to see if we could have transportation through Olancho, but the hospital refused because of how dangerous the route was, and offered to drive us to La Ceiba. “That’s alright,” we said, “we can just take the bus.”

Our last lunch at the hospital was especially good, consisting of rice, stir-fried chicken and vegetables, and fried chicken. Thus stuffed, we waited until 2:00pm for our going away party. To begin the festivities, the hospital director rose and said, “Every year, we have a going away party for the students who come to help. We are very thankful for everything that you have done, and we hope for more students next year. However, I hope that next year we can have girls!” After the laughter died down, he continued jokingly, “Yes, every year, all the men hope for girls to come, while all the women hope for boys to come.”

After the director’s speech, the rest of the administration, one-by-one, followed with speeches thanking us for our work. At this point, I began anticipating that I would have to give a speech as well. Soon, the staff began murmuring, “Which one of them is it that speaks Spanish? Make him say something.” I clumsily gave our farewell address: “First of all, thank you for your patience with our Spanish. Secondly, thank you for all of your help with our work. The people in the hospital were always very friendly to us, and we like the city of Olanchito. Our time here has been very special.”

Before leaving the hospital forever, I ran into the emergency room to talk to Dr. Allan, who had helped us with so much, being fluent in both English and Spanish. “Yeah, sorry we couldn’t get together yesterday,” he said, “The thing is, this is where the people are.” We had hoped to discuss some things about the hospital with him for our research, but he again pulled an extra-long shift because no other doctors were available. “It’s totally fine. What you’re doing is very important,” I replied. “Anyway, if you get the chance, this is our last night here, so feel free to call us if you can. But in case you’re not able to, we want to thank you for everything and all the help you’ve given us. Because of you, we were able to accomplish a lot more than we could have otherwise.”

On the way home, Tom and I stopped at a shop to buy the much-needed machetes for the hike we were planning with Roger for the next day—climbing the tallest mountain near the city. Back at home, we packed and ate our last dinner. During the dinner, Maritza asked if I could mail something for her to her daughter and son-in-law living in Texas, because mail from Honduras to the United States can easily require more than a month to arrive.

After dinner, we went to watch a movie with Roger in one of Maritza’s apartments. From the outside, I would not have guessed how well-furnished the apartments were. When we returned, I stayed up late preparing for our departure the next day. I bought two CD-Rs at a local store and burned some of my music on each for Maritza and Roger as parting gifts. While trying to sleep, however, there was suddenly a loud noise which seemed to originate from the roof. “What was that?” Tom said, waking up. I sat still and listened before getting up to lock the door. “I don’t know,” I said, “My only worry is that since this is our last night, if anyone wanted to try to steal our stuff, they would probably do it tonight. Also, the roof is the only way in here when the gates are closed.” When the dog failed to bark ballistically, however, we were able to safely assume that no robbers were present.