Early last Saturday a couple of buddies and I drove into Tegucigalpa’s junkyard world in the Hogar’s ’89 Chevy looking for a rear window glass for the cab; one with small sliding windows for direct personal voice access to the pickup’s usual rear bed full of kids. The trip into the city’s depths proved an unforgettable adventure. We drove through several dangerous areas bumping along streets of dirt and large navigable rocks in residential nooks and crannies in the center of the 1.5 million citizen metropolis looking for and finding junkyards in the midst of a wealthy modern city. So incredible it was: the presence of graffiti, and the influence of Salvatrucha gangs and Mareros visible in many colonias and barrios who charge residents a “war tax” to live in their own neighborhood. A day trip was okay: the bad guys come out at night, we were told. Barricaded steets with pistol-toting watchmen protect more affluent residencial areas because armed gangs control so many of the colonias and barrios. One does not walk in those places after dark. Al fin, en búsqueda todo el día, regresamos a casa con el sol ocultando y con las manos vacías.

Much has been written the past few days about a horde of disease-laden Honduran children fleeing gang violence and abject poverty swarming illegally into the US. To be sure, the gangs and poverty are real. I, however, have lived in Honduras for more than five years; an ex-pat, ex-Peace Corps Volunteer, Registered Nurse and I know that all those children have been vaccinated against every childhood disease the same as a US child, a requirement to enroll in school same as in the US. As far as I know there have been no La Paz children leaving home. The Hogar children tell me they are receiving classes in school addressing the refugee problem. The fire department, police department, and the cadets at the local police academy paraded through the community yesterday, sirens blaring, and gathered at the central park to publicize the problem and the dangers involved. The 99% of folks in Honduras living lives same as citizens in the US continue their daily routines same as always. We are aware of the media circus fueled by racist US citizens via newpapers, radio, television and the internet but the average Honduran has no way to influence US ignorance, stupidity and political machinations of all the countries involved. La Paz, Honduras is a beautiful and peaceful place filled with friendly, wonderful citizens where I have chosen to make my home to escape the omnipresent norteamericano systemic racism that thrives and drives repugnant gringo attitudes.

Building stuff and washing our cars. What a life on a beautiful sunny Saturday followed by a barbecue. I will do everything I can to make the children’s lives better. One wants to be a lawyer, another a doctor, a third a veterinarian. I tell them to aim for the stars.