The Accidental Model

Ode to a Dead Bird

It flew through the open art room door,

Now trapped in an alien world.

Panic, before we could open the window,

SLAM! Thud, drop.

It lay twitching Feathers ruffling in the breeze

From the now open window.

Stunned? We hoped…alas no

And now pinned to a tray an

Accidental model.

The tiny bird was finally identified as a female Ruby Throated Humming Bird. After several days of "posing" for the eighth graders and being stored in the upstairs staff refrigerator overnight it was time to put it to rest.

In the fourth grade I did an oral report on the Ruby Throated Humming bird. At the time and I was in awe of how small and beautiful a creature it was. I never thought I would ever see one in "real life". But 55 years later I have seen them several times flitting briefly around my friend's feeder outside her kitchen window in Indiana. We stop our coffee conversation and stare for the few seconds it gives us while it sips and darts away. Now, I have had hours to study its every feature. It was with regret and respect we found a spot outside the art room door and lifted some sod and slipped her under. Warren and Paola shared in the ceremony and paid their respects.

Meet the Chamomile Man or Art Supply Shopping with Warren

Warren arrived about 40 min past the appointed time without Vincent. Seems Vincent has no bell at his apartment gate and no operating or turned on cell phone…which ever he was no where to be seen. So after a bit Warren, instead of being dropped off by his mother and brother headed to my house, picked me up and then we dropped his brother and mother at his cousin’s house and we went on to do our shopping using his mother’s car.

We moved quickly around the city – downtown past the central park and the Cathedral and to the High School of the Arts. Even though classes were on winter semester break the school was open and the supply store busy. We purchased our painting boards and headed on over to Larache – sort of a combination of Lowe’s, Home Depot /Office Depot, with a large art and school/office supply section. We purchased water color paper and illustration board there and then went on to Don Quixote art supply store looking for charcoal sticks for Vincent, none found.

So we stopped for a coffee at the Café American next door before heading across the street to DaVinci art supply. While we were sitting outside at the Café we were approached by an “herb” seller; a man between the age of 35 and 55. It is difficult to guess the age of those who work hard and live on two or three dollars a day. He was selling bundles of fresh chamomile for 20 Lempira each. I bought a bundle so that Warren could get a picture of him with his huge burlap bag of chamomile slung over his back and an arm load of flowers in front.

Later that afternoon I searched the internet for instructions for making chamomile tea with the fresh flowers. I plucked the yellow blossoms and steeped them according to directions. I sipped a cup while I drew a few of the remaining flowers from my bundle in my sketchbook. And now I am spoiled forever and must plant some chamomile some where around my little house. I am thinking in the sun by the garden shed.

Locked-in with Grade 10

Thursday January 13, 2011
Well after a marathon shopping day Wednesday - first with Marvin (driver) in the morning to buy painting supplies, paint etc. at the Do-It Hardware center and then in the afternoon after school with F. (teacher/friend)at Price Mart(aka Costco) I was as ready as I could get for Thursday morning and the tenth grade lock-in. I woke at 4:30am but began packing instead of walking. Managed to be packed and ready to spend the night at school by the time D. was up and ready for school. I even got a cup of coffee and a cup of vanilla Greek yogurt in before we headed out. Then a long day of classes mine and Warren’s and setting up for another marathon 18 hour painting night. The girls soccer practice was canceled so I had most of them there right after school. The boys came in about 5:15 or so. Total 13 teenagers. The boys were all fresh and clean with neatly combed wet hair. They had decided yesterday that they needed to a shower after soccer practice and since our school has no showers and there was not time to go home and back they had brought their bathing suits, changed into them, and then literally hosed each other down with cold water. AND it was already cool, cloudy and windy here! They were very proud of themselves, figuring out how to solve that little problem. They took pictures which they showed me but unfortunately they didn’t download them so I can’t share them with you.

They were very hungry and devoured the raw veggies I had brought as my contribution to the “snack” table, they then hit the chocolate chip cookies from price mart (as requested) and then got to work before the Chinese food was delivered about 7:00

They had enough sustenance to get to work and work they did. It was another amazing night of creative energy and cooperation. Lots of laughter and lots of fun – a late night walk where young teacher/ Warren snuck up behind them and lurked in the shadows …scaring them to pieces when they noticed a hidden shadowy figure.

Friday January 14, 2011
Ahhh. Up till 10:30 with the tenth graders then Warren came in after his night school class and took over the chaperoning and consulting on the work on the mural. I went to the first aid room (which has a real bed and bathroom) and got a reasonably good night’s sleep until 5:00 am...then I got up and got ready for the school half day and parent conferences. I went down and saw all the sleeping “angles”. Just like last time they were spread out on a variety of inflatable and non inflatable mattresses. Up in the art room there was a boys “dorm” of about a half dozen packed -almost mattress to mattress -in the storage leg of the “L” of the art room.

Downstairs there was a small group in the AV room where our parent volunteer, S., I.’s mother, camped out with a combination of boys and girls and in the elementary library area where the mural is located two girls on a giant air mattress with one boy curled up like a cocoon in his sleeping bag at the foot of the mattress. Middle school art teacher Vincent, all 6’5” of him was stretched out on the floor on the cushion from the couch in the secondary library area in his sleeping bag with feet hanging over one end and his foot long dread locks hanging off the cushion onto the floor on the other. Warren was already up – I saw his empty sleeping bag in the computer room when I tip-toed through there on my way from the first aid room – counselor’s office – computer room to art room…all connected by doors.

I waited quietly until about 6:30 when Warren joined me in the senior library area and we put the kettle on for coffee and hot chocolate. C. was the first student up, then G.. Our whispers moved gradually to quiet talking and then we were joined by others and began turning on the lights. Sleepy heads joined us and soon the muffins were disappearing along with the left over fruit from the night before. Students had projects to present in their first period literature class so I couldn’t get them excused. Most wore their pajama’s to class. They came back for second period when we usually have art and some continued to paint others got dressed and finished putting away their sleeping gear. (Drivers began arriving to carry gear to waiting cars.) They came back after their algebra test fourth period and cleaned up all of the painting supplies, carried everything upstairs and left me only with the brushes to clean. They had done a lot of work; added more foliage, more details, shading etc. as well as more flowers, some birds, butterflies, ants and the all important jaguar. They even began revising the mangrove wall that joins their rainforest wall. But it is still far from done. I feel like Michelangelo...and the Pope...:"When will you make and end of it!” The students seem unconcerned. “We still have lots of time, Mrs. Campbell. We can work next year…you’ll be here next year?” “Yes, I will probably be here next year.” Big smiles – “see lots of time”. Yes, I remember those years of feeling there was “lots” of time.

The rest of the day went pleasantly with clearing my desk and sorting through stuff, putting things in order and washing brushes. While I was writing the “Thursday” entry above I actually dozed off and woke to find three lines of “l’s” across the screen. Fortunately, the fifth grade teacher came by and shared her pizza lunch with me and we discussed next week’s “Egyptian museum” they are making in their classroom. Later I had a pleasant parent conference with a teacher/parent and following our talk about her son we had a very good talk about early art education and the preschool lesson she was preparing. I gathered enough work to keep me busy for the three day weekend (MLK Day) and left at 3:30 with F. who dropped me off at home with all of my luggage.

D. had made soup the night before and so I had a bowl with her chatted a bit and then headed for bed about 7:30. I got a good 11 hours of sleep and got up and took my walk on the treadmill to get my joints moving -1.02 miles in 32 minutes.

I think I have caught you up. Now I plan to have a pleasant three days of washing, ironing, writing lesson plans, a few other “brain” work school projects and blogs and maybe doing some work in my new moleskin sketchbook – a gift from one of my student families. D has also ordered some new cable movie channels in English and they may be available today. The wind is howling through the casements, gray clouds are hanging over my mountains across the valley but the sun is trying to come through. I am wearing my sweat shirt “jacket” and my toes are a bit cold. It is like a nippy fall or spring day. I hope you are all warm and well. Adios, Beth

Gallery and Museum Tour September 18, 2010

Warren, the returning art teacher who now teaches elementary art grades 2-5, planned a gallery tour for teachers. So Saturday morning at 9:00am all eight of us gathered at school. He had arranged for us to use the school van and driver, Marvin. The group included, Vincent (who teaches grade 6 and 7 art and middle school English) from Texas, Magda from Canada, Christina from USA, Kristen and husband Mike from Iowa, Anna, from Indianapolis, a young volunteer working in an inner city project here, and myself.

We settled in and Marvin took off hitting every crater-like pot hole on the way to the city center. We passed Central Park where a sculpture of a globe marks “0”, the point from which all distances are measured from Tegucigalpa. All Spanish towns are laid out the same way, a grid with a central plaza/park in the middle, bounded by church and important government buildings.

Our first stop, The Museum of National Identity. It is a new museum opened only four years ago. It is housed in the old hospital and retains all of the original flooring, pegged wooden floors inside and black and white tiles tessellated in a variety of geometric patterns that can make one a bit dizzy if one looks down too often while walking. The two court yards have been covered with glass roofs. There is a small theater built in one of the court yards, it is designed to resemble a Mayan temple and has a large curved screen. The “show” was about Copan the Mayan temple complex in western Honduras. It was a “virtual reality” tour and was very well done. The narration was in Spanish of course but the images were excellent.

We passed through photography exhibits from Tiawan and an excellent collection of black and white photos of rural Honduras. On the second floor were exhibits focused on Honduras from the formation of the land and “prehistoric” human inhabitants through every aspect of the country’s development to its current political history. There were few artifacts but many large well done displays, samples of documents, mining artifacts etc. Again, of course, all in Spanish but we had an excellent English speaking guide. I was grateful for the wooden benches placed here and there.

From this museum we headed for the restaurant Warren had selected for our lunch. On the way we stopped at a park atop a high hill that had an excellent panoramic view of the city. Warren pointed out places of interest, the “high” cathedral (for the rich and powerful) and the “low” cathedral (for the people who were lower – poor – the difference was very obvious), the stadium, presidential residence etc. All of my pictures of the city have multiple power lines running horizontally across the foreground. It is very difficult to take a picture of the city without the ubiquitous power lines. I am fascinated by the way little “balls” of Spanish moss cling to them.

The way to the park was a steep and twisting narrow road. We were behind a bus which had to stop and make a three point turn at every hairpin curve. The public transportation buses are all big long bright yellow school buses – Blue Bird Buses straight from Mitchell Indiana. Well maybe not straight but originating there. School buses are either vans like ours or look like tour buses. It still feels odd to pass a stopped yellow school bus.

Our restaurant had inside and outside seating. We went for the outside under a flowering tree. The menu was authentic Honduran food. There was no menu so our waiter explained the dishes available to Warren and he translated. Calling his mother more than once to ask for help in explaining what certain dishes were made of. I opted for a soup that included potato, plantain, red pepper, onion, beef, sausage and cilantro in coconut milk broth. Warren ordered several traditional dishes that we passed and taste tested around the table. We lingered over robust Honduran grown coffee and reluctantly left for the afternoon agenda. Our feast cost 140 Lempira each, including tip about $7.00.

We stopped at the Spanish Center. A cultural center sponsored by the Spanish government. It is housed in a very contemporary building with curves and angles, located near the five star hotel area. The center consists of a small court yard with a water wall and small tables and chairs where you could enjoy a free coffee from their Nescafe machine – just like the one in my bank in Ghana. There is a reading room with free internet access, three galleries and a small children’s library. The galleries were in transition, old exhibit down but new one not up yet. But the facility itself was interesting and we picked up their calendar of events for future reference.

From there we headed back to city center and the National Gallery of Art. This collection is housed in the building that was the first University in Honduras, great colonial architecture. There we found more extensive exhibits of Mayan artifacts and paintings as well as religious artifacts from the mission churches around Honduras. They have been collected and housed in this gallery because too many of these paintings and icons were being stolen from these small churches. The second floor exhibit was a collection of contemporary works by local artists. The exhibit was very interesting and thought provoking as intended. I found the building itself even more interesting and the courtyard very pleasant. Just as we were leaving there was a loud crack of thunder and a few drops of water but nothing more. Just enough to get people moving faster along the streets.

Our drive back to school was just as interesting as the galleries and museums. We drove through the “big” shopping district. Stalls and booths line the streets. We moved slowly in our van looking out both sides to catch glimpses of “real” Honduran life. This is the market where Marvin came to buy the guacoles for an art project last year. We snapped pictures through the windows as Warren repeatedly warned us not to come there without a local person and never bring your camera or use your cell phone. All kinds of incidents occur in these crowded areas. Stalls selling every color and shape of piñata, mountains of tennis shoes, fruits, vegetables, sundries, even prescription drugs being sold from a cart.

As we passed through the streets headed for school we took in the real life exhibits at the sides of the road: tutti, frutti and oreo & cream, an elderly man sitting on a bench wearing an NYPD baseball cap and a T shirt saying “I Make Stuff UP” and a woman struggling off a yellow bus with a large Sponge Bob piñata.

We arrived at school with our eyes and minds full at 5:15 pm. A full day! I finally feel I have seen the city. We thanked Warren for a special day and said good-bye and went our separate ways. Just as Debbie pulled out of the school gates the rain came showering down, perfect timing. I took 97 pictures. Aren’t you glad you don’t have to look at all of them?

Return to Tegucigalpa

First times are great. Everything is new to the eye and there is the small thrill of the unknown. The second time around the eye is looking for the familiar and there is a warm feeling of returning to a home away from home. My trip went smoothly thanks to those electric carts that move slow folks long airport distances. Once I was through immigration and customs and stepped out into the meeting/greeting area, I scanned the crowd and easily spotted Reynaldo wearing a bright red shirt and a bright and broad smile. “Welcome back Miss”. He took my bags from the porter, I passed on the tip and we were off through the crowd to find the van.

Debbie was at school so I entered an empty apartment. Debbie had done her magic. The place was gleaming and fresh star gazer lilies filled the apartment with their sweet scent. The view from the balcony had not changed. I could see the red tiled roofs of the school across the valley and the statue of Jesus atop the mountain at the other end of the panorama. Below me the flame tree was in full blossom but there were no parrots yet. They will come later.

So, I am sitting at the beginning of the roller coaster ride that will start on the first day of school and have its ups and downs gaining speed and height until the “peak” of May. When there will be the rush down to the first of June.

Why I Am Here

Jorge

Yesterday, at the beginning of the eighth grade class, as I walked to my desk I stopped to pick up a paper and straightened up slowly putting my hand to my lower back. Then I walked over to where the class folders are and picked up the stack of folders for ninth grade. As I turned around, there was Jorge with his hands extended to take the papers from me, "here Mrs. Campbell, may I do this?" Then very quietly he added, "I think your back is bothering you, right?" I nodded and smiled and thanked him. How amazing that he observed that small slow movement my hand to my back and then quietly extended his help. Amazing, and that is one reason why it is worth the huge cut in pay to be here.

Santa Lucia

Santa Lucia

Reina invited me for an outing after school Wednesday. So at 4:00 she closes her office and finds me waiting in the reception area with all of my school “baggage” that I drag back and forth. She calls her son Joaquin and we squeeze into her economy size car and head out.

Small car and big load, for we are all healthy sized people, means we are slow on the incline of the mountain road. It is already a slow road because of the many curves but the mighty Land Rovers pass us quite easily if not a little impatiently.

We are on our way to Santa Lucia. (From the Lonely Planet tour book.) “Santa Lucia is a charming old Spanish mining town build on a hillside. Cobblestone lanes and walkways wind around the hillside, leading to small colonial –style homes and businesses.”

We are not long on the road when Reina gasps and breaks. In front of us is a “viper”. It has a lovely chartreuse green belly and a darker green and black designed back and white sides. Joaquin estimates it to be about a meter and a half long but all I can see is the flowing “s” shape as it quickly moves across the road and disappears into the brush at the side of the road. OoOOoo! Wildlife!

In just a few minutes we begin passing the nurseries where Debbie searched for the Red Hibiscus. Reina points to forested mountains to our far left and explains that they are part of the La Tigra Rainforest National Park – “just 45 minutes away” she says. Soon we come to a “Y” in the road and a sign pointing to Santa Lucia. Santa Lucia is said to be the Virgin to cure the eyes. Since Reina took me for my eye exam perhaps there is a hidden agenda for our visit.

Soon after the “Y” in the road we enter the outskirts of the village and Reina pulls over and parks next to the small lake or large pond that has a lovely walkway following the road and then on around to a small playground and public building. There are benches and flower beds. We stand and sit and admire the view. There is an almost mirror image reflection of the sky and wooded area across the lake. I snap a picture of Reina and the youngest of her four boys, Joaquin (8th grader). Across the street is a shop with parrots calling for customers to come into the brilliantly painted store.

We get back into the car and travel on down the road onto cobblestones and the narrow steep road down, down to the small church unfortunately already closed and locked for the evening. Across the street is a tiny home built into the mountainside that looks deceptively small. We can see only the top most part of the three level home. After I snap a picture I get the “camera full” signal so must rely on my sketch book to capture other images for my brain to ponder.

After a good sit and look about we get back into the car and bounce up the street to the community building and small terrace/park that overlooks the town and valley below. We sit on the wall and I sketch a bit of the area. The sun is starting to set so we get back into the car and bounce up the hill and then past the tree with large 8-10 inch long white bell shaped blossoms that line the ends of the branches like giant oblong lily of the valley making the branch bow down under the weight. I ask what the tree is called. Reina laughs but is unable to give me a name. She rolls down her window and asks the two men standing next to the tree. She laughs again, because the gentlemen have said a small joke, it is a tree whose blossoms when brewed as a tea are said to make you high, “why”, they say, “do you want to get high?” but alas still no name.

We drive on past the pond/lake and out past the “Y” onto the main mountain road. Reina suggests we have dinner together and we go by to pick up Joaquin’s “second oldest brother” from the motorcycle showroom where he works, to join us. When asked where I would like to eat, I suggest someplace they like to eat that is Honduran, not US franchise Honduran. So we go to the Patio. An open air restaurant I have often passed.

I order a yucca dish that Joaquin is eager for me to try along with some refried beans, tortias made in the traditional wood fired clay oven and salsa washed down with coca-lite. A small (3 member) mariachi band walks by offering to play for us but we prefer “the” conversation.

I am home after 8:00, very late for me on a school night. But what a treat the day has been. Thanks to Reina and her boys my eyes and camera are filled with new images, my tummy is full of new tastes and my ears are full of new voices, thoughts and insights.