A Central American Confession…

First things first. You know that moment you found out Santa wasn’t real, when your heart sank as your mind panned over every Christmas past in this new dark light? Remember the feeling when your classmates said mean hateful things like, “How can a senior in high school still believe in Santa?”-how dirty and taken advantage of you felt? Ok, I’m not trying to stir up old emotions, I just want to put this next confession in perspective:

I’m not actually in Australia. I know… slow down. I didn’t actually lie to you (like your parents did with Santa). I was in Australia and did have some sweet adventures. I even did some volunteer work (which I still intend to tell you about). But I wanted to catch you up to real time so as not to loose the power and potential time sensitive stories of my newest adventure: Honduras.

It’s hard to explain why Honduras-a country in political transition-whose congress and military recently exported their own president under armed escort to Costa Rica. I guess it started a week or two ago when I bumped into an old friend on Facebook chat. She’s Honduran and had invited me to visit previously, but that was before the sort of recent coup. When I talked to her she was in Chile but she was anxious to get back to support her country, her people.

Her passion was challenging. Her fire, inspiring. The more we talked, the more I was challenged, the more I wanted to be stretched. I asked her if could still visit to see first hand what was going on. She agreed and days later I was planning my trip to Honduras.