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I would say that going on this trip is by far the most important thing that a member can get out of being on this team. This does not mean that people should join simply to go to Honduras, and obviously there is plenty to be learned doing design and research work. But long after each of us has graduated and gone on to do something else and long after the AguaClara technology has evolved to the point that our individual contributions to the team have become little more than an historical curiosity in a old report, we will remember our experiences in Honduras and for me it will always remind me that I should use my education to solve problems that will help people less fortunate than myself.

Travis Stanislaus' Abridged Honduras Journal Record

I keep an almost daily written record of my day and I continued it in Honduras more or less. For this personal interpretation, a sequential log of the day may drown the points I try to convey and my personal journal is not for public viewing. Aside from my personal journal, I keep an abridged journal, a French journal, and (now since Honduras) a Spanish journal; with my French journal being the weakest of the four.

On to Honduras. Just so you know I left my house at 12:15am to get to JFK and I got stuck in traffic on the Belt Parkway and I was afraid I would be late meeting you all... . I digress, TACA is a pretty solid airline imo, and it was my first exposure to being manhandled by Spanish (I would equate it to a nudge). The lack of sleep one of the most interesting parts of beginning the AguaClara student trip.

I did not account for the Spanish divide when we arrived in Honduras, it was my first interactions with Antonio that punched me in the face. Antonio came up to me and shook my hand and began talking to me and I could not listen or respond to him. It was the first time I heard Spanish directed at me in a conversation and my ears could not handle it. Sarah had to respond for me, I felt the way you feel when you cannot defend for yourself. The next time I spoke to Antonio, was when we walked to the village later on the 1st day and without even thinking, I spoke to him in English and he looked at me and I looked at him and we said nothing for a few seconds, all the while I was thoroughly embarrassed for assuming he spoke English when I opened my mouth. Going back to the not being able to defend yourself feeling, it was the same when we were exchanging money with the mafia, Dan had to look over the transaction for us and he was speaking to the man, I had no concept of the words they were saying and it left me with that feeling. In my preparation for Honduras, that feeling caught me off guard.

I will say, all the time we spent in the vans, I enjoyed, I do not have mention the way things looked since we all appreciated it. Honduras crammed many things into my head. Let me jump to the horse ride on the second day, we went to a project town on the top of a mountain, it had some unearthed Mayan structures, and in the town some children walked with us. We went to workshop in the town which was a women's work cooperative, where they made garments and dolls and sold them to tourists who came to the town. At this point my Spanish was not worthy of being called debil, and Sarah was talking to the girls in the town (I only know what they said now) and Sarah said one of the girls asked "can I have some of your luck?" (only now I know she said something like, puedo tener un poco de su suerte?). This Spanish thing was becoming a big deal for me. I still could not even talk.

Also in Copan, I got this chill of the environment being inherently familiar to me. I recognized it because of my mother, she is from Kingston, Jamaica and I felt what she has conveyed to me about where she is from through Honduras, but the speaking part was a big missing piece. I will tell you, the days picked up, the next day was faster than the previous one. Also Monroe's departure from the trip gave it an interesting feel.