See: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091030/ap_on_re_la_am_ca/lt_honduras_coup

After a disappointing 2-3 loss at home against the United States last Saturday that left them in fourth place, Honduras had only one direct chance left to qualify for the World Cup, and it didn’t just depend on them. In order to move up to third place and qualify, they had to win tonight’s game in El Salvador AND Costa Rica had to either lose to or tie with the United States in Washington in games being played simultaneously.

It didn’t begin well. Honduras started out sluggish and Costa Rica quickly scored against the United States. By the end of the first halves, Costa Rica had a 2-0 lead and Honduras was still tied 0-0 with El Salvador. Hopes were fading fast, but in the 63rd minute Carlos Pavon headed in a goal to give them a 1-0 lead. Then, more than halfway through the second half, the U.S. finally scored their first goal. Despite their team’s lead, the Honduran crowd, knowing that their visa to South Africa depended on the United States equalizing against Costa Rica, watched nervously, hoping for a miracle. The game came to an end and fans and players alike were mourning the evening’s outcome, despite their win, when they heard the news. U.S. defender, Jonathan Bornstein, had delivered their miracle by scoring a header in the last few seconds of the game.

Reportedly a former shoe-shine boy from Puerto Cortes, Honduran soccer star Julio Cesar “Rambo” de Leon, was hunched over on the ground crying after the game when a reporter went over to inform him that Honduras had qualified. He lifted his head briefly and then burst into tears again, this time of happiness.

After months of suffering through a political crisis that has yet to be resolved, Honduras finally had something to be happy about. Fans in the stadium went wild as the news that the U.S. had tied the game filtered through the crowd. People immediately poured into the streets to celebrate the victory and the entire country turned into a giant carnival while interim president, Roberto Micheletti, declared Thursday a national holiday.

Soccer is life in Honduras. Under the best of circumstances this would be the happiest day in the life of most Hondurans. But after the anxiety that has dominated life for the last three months, La Seleccion has truly “soothe(d) the soul of a country” (Michael Lewis, http://www.concacaf.com/view_article.aspx?id=4978).

Rumors are circulating that the representatives of deposed president Manuel Zelaya and interim president Roberto Micheletti are finding common ground. With a little luck the “Guaymuras Accord” will soon bring the crisis to an end. Tonight, at least, Honduras feels like the luckiest country on earth.

By Sophia Anderson

Honduras is depressed. The country has suffered trauma after trauma over the last few months: first a major earthquake, then a political crisis that has dragged the economy into the mud. Most people are worried sick over the crisis and its consequences. Public school children will pass to the next grade having had classes only sporadically for the second half of the school year. Hotels, restaurants, gift shops, the transportation industry, and anyone else who relies on tourism, a major source of income in the country, are wondering how much longer they can survive the economic doldrums that the crisis has provoked. And more than anything the average Honduran, having neither contributed to nor benefited from the ouster of President Mel Zelaya, is heartbroken to see his beloved country treated as the black sheep of the world.
But tonight nobody will care about any of that. Tonight Honduras’ national soccer team (La Selección) has the chance to make Honduras the happiest country in the world. There is really no comparison in the United States to the importance of the Selección in Honduras. Not even Monday Night Football or the president winning the Nobel Peace Prize could possibly unify the population the way tonight’s game will. From San Pedro Sula’s Olympic stadium, to bars and homes with televisions tuned, even in the farthest reaches of the countryside where only radio waves reach poor peasants who walk hours over mountains to get to their homes, everyone will be glued to this game. Honduras has only qualified once for the World Cup, 27 years ago in 1982. A win tonight will guarantee their participation in the 2010 games in South Africa. The odds are in their favor – their record at home in World Cup qualifying games this time is 8-0. But the United States’ team, equally set on the goal of qualifying, will be playing to win.
The outcome of the game remains to be seen. It is hard to see how a loss could throw the country into a deeper depression that it already finds itself in, but the euphoria produced if they win might just be enough to jolt us into recovery.
By Sophia Anderson

By Sophia Anderson & Desirae Wrathall

When asked about her political perspective, Azucena Garcia states, “If Mel brings peace, let him come, if Micheletti brings peace, let him stay.” Azucena does not care who stays in office, she just wants the crisis to end and life to go back to normal. Julia Ramirez, sells cosmetics, but says that right now nobody is buying. People want to keep their money rather than spend it because they do not know what is going to happen next.

On Monday, September 21st, deposed president, Manual Zelaya, shocked the country when he snuck back in and took up residence in the Brazilian embassy. Almost immediately, chaos ensued as the acting government issued a nationwide curfew less than an hour before it was set to go into effect. Shopping cart jams formed in the supermarkets and traffic jams in the streets. The initial curfew lasted forty hours and shut down the country for almost two full work days. Interim president, Roberto Micheletti, lifted the curfew at 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday after widespread concern was expressed, but nationwide evening curfews have continued since, interfering with commerce and transportation. Protests, primarily in the capital of Tegucigalpa, have resulted in violence and vandalism. Conflicting media information and varying rumors have caused fear and confusion. For a better sense of the reality of the situation, we spoke directly with clients to hear their personal perspective.

At the Miramar assembly meeting in La Ceiba, six women gather together on a shaded front porch. Irma Garcia, the Adelante credit officer starts out the meeting by saying “Welcome compañeras, thank you for being here today. Things have been tough, there are troubling events happening around us, but we are alive and well, and will keep moving forward.” All nod in agreement. After initial business is taken care of and an educational lesson given on “Domestic Violence”, the subject of the group discussion changes to the current crisis, and the participants give their personal accounts:

Devlin Posadas sells baleadas (a typical Honduran food, consisting of a flour tortilla filled with beans and cheese). She sells them in the street, at the billiard halls, and to some established clients. Last week, she made a hundred baleadas, a reasonable amount based on what she usually sells. But nobody wanted to buy even one baleada because they did not have any money nor would they buy on credit because they didn’t know when they would have any money. Devlin also works occasionally as a mariscera (a person who cleans seafood for export). There has not been any work lately because no boats have been coming in to port. Her husband works as a waiter at a hotel restaurant. Due to the curfew, he is not making his usual salary, but being paid hourly when the restaurant is open. His employer has even insisted that he come to work despite the curfew because the hotel had clients. Consequently, as there was no public transportation available, he had to walk all the way there – an hour journey – while avoiding the police and the fear of being caught and thrown in jail.

The assembly members discussed solutions to the crisis, primarily to hold the upcoming November elections and democratically elect a new individual to office. While Devlin nods in agreement, she says, “No voy a votar. I’m not going to vote. Even though I have always voted in the past, I am disillusioned by the whole situation. Mel was elected by the people and they took him out, so what’s to stop them from doing it all over again? The police would have to make me vote. Otherwise, I’m not going to bother.”

Besy Barahona sells food items and Avon products. Right now her business is doing poorly. She often sells her Avon products on credit, but right now people just do not want to take the chance. If they have a little extra money, they prefer to hold on to it because they never know when they might need it. They are also trying to keep their cash on hand since they don’t know when a curfew might go into effect and they would not be able to get to the bank. Besy says, “People have cut the luxuries; they don’t have any extra money to spend.”

Julissa Posadas makes packaged lunches and sells them to the workers at restaurants like Pizza Hut and KFC, but right now nobody is buying. Usually the workers like some variety as they get bored of eating pizza or chicken all the time, but right now they do not care – they just want to save money so they are just eating whatever the restaurants give them.

Azucena Garcia has a small caseta (snack food shop) in her house. She sells foods like baleadas, pastelitos (meat pies), and sodas. The majority of her clients are students on their way to and from school. With all the curfews and cancelled classes her businesses has dropped dramatically. Lately she has been making about L.24 ($1.27) per day. She says that right now people are saving money by eating at home. They are not spending on luxuries. “Hay que tener paciencia porque las cosas van a mejorar. You have to have patience because things will get better”, Azucena says. She has a lot of faith in God and she feels optimistic that this crisis is temporary and things are going to improve.

The group speaks in general about their desire for the situation to end, and for their kids to be back in school – classes have been sporadic – as public school children have basically missed three months of classes. Some feel that local crime has increased as the police focus on the political situation. They also humorously predict that due to the curfew, there will be a baby boom nine months from now.

Regardless of the politics, it is with your help that the Adelante Foundation continues to serve these women in a very difficult time in Honduran history. Thank you for your continued support.

3:54pm, Monday afternoon: I’ve made my grocery list and checked it twice, and I’m heading out the door. Walking through my kitchen, I shake my head at the sad state of affairs. Mother Hubbard’s dog would likely choose her cupboards over my own at this point. A trip to the grocery store is long over due. As I walk out the gate of my apartment complex and head down the street, looking for a cab to hail, things seem pretty normal. However, there is a sound of a distant siren which leads my thoughts to drift a bit as I wonder if La Ceiba has any emergency warning systems in place – in event of hurricanes or whatnot. Even now I’m not sure whether the siren was significant, but moments later, my neighbor, Angelica pulls up next to me in her car. “Where are you going?” she asks. (I’m assuming she’s thinking of offering me a ride.) “Para hacer mandados. Running errands,” I respond. She shakes her head adamantly. “Didn’t you know there is a 4pm toque de queda? Mel is back.” Literally translated, this phrase means “a warning or call to stay” but it is significant of a government imposed curfew. Before June 28th the day that Mel Zelaya was whisked from his presidential house to Costa Rica, I’d never heard this phrase, but now, its like an old friend, who unfortunately comes to visit at unexpected times and generally stays way too long. Mel is back! This is big news. I turn on my heals and head back towards home, stopping briefly at the small corner store to buy minutes for my phone, should I need to communicate with the outside world over the next few days.

The curfew was announced only 30 minutes before it went into effect. For those of us who didn’t happen to be watching tv or listening to the radio at the time, the warning was even shorter (about 1 minute’s notice for me.) Not a lot of time to prepare, by any standard. Originally the curfew was in effect until 7am Tuesday morning, but by end of day, it had been extended until 6pm. This means, other than the police enforcing the curfew, there will be no work for Honduras on Tuesday.

I wake Tuesday morning and turn on the television to get the latest on the evolving situation. Outside, my window, the guys next door are blasting their 80’s dance music mix and sitting around on the porch with their shirts off. They seem to be making the most of their unplanned day off work. In contrast, on the television, the situation in the capital looks tense and volatile. Mel Zelaya is making speeches, Roberto Micheletti is making speeches. The international community is reacting, the military has cleared the streets of protestors and Zelaya supporters from in front of the Brazilian embassy, where Zelaya has taken refuge.

Sitting in my “home office”, I continue to check the news, waiting for word as to whether we will once again be free to wander the streets come 6pm or if the curfew will be extended. I cant imagine that the grocery stores will magically open tonight anyway, after being closed all day long. How would the workers even get to their jobs with public transportation shut down? Until further notice, I’ll be staying at home, glued to the news, hoping for a peaceful resolution for Honduras, and subsisting on the few items remaining on my kitchen shelves: grapefruits, cheerios, tortillas and beans.

By Desirae Wrathall

Sign reads: "The Road to Understanding", highlighting the complexity and frustration of the politicial battle in Honduras. (Cartoon taken from online newspaper LaPrensa.Hn)

The political crisis in Honduras stands at an impasse. The interim Honduran government has not accepted proposals by the international community because every proposal demands reinstating deposed president Mel Zelaya. As talks continue to fail, Honduras begins to feel the sting of international sanctions. The United States had already suspended roughly $35 million in government and military assistance and has now suspended tourist visas to the United States – with more new sanctions likely in upcoming days. A host of countries, including the United States, has dismissed Honduran ambassadors and consular officials for supporting the current Honduran government. Neighboring countries have reacted harshly, isolating Honduras economically and politically from the rest of Latin America. Amidst the conflict, Hondurans seem to be holding their breath, just waiting for the upcoming November elections to set the country back on track. However, as countries continue to withdraw their support, the question on everyones’ lips becomes “Will the upcoming elections be recognized and validated?” United States diplomats say that it is too early to tell, but continue to stand firm that restoring Zelaya to office is the only way to negotiate a solution to this political crisis.

On the ground, the political predicament has taken its toll on an already suffering Honduras. During the traditionally high tourist season, destinations such as the island of Roatan are quiet – with beachside resorts like ghost towns, waves crashing on silent, empty beaches. Businesses dependent on tourism have suffered a financial beating this year, many operating at a loss.

Due to safety concerns and political instability, Habitat for Humanity and other development organizations who rely on foreign volunteers for fundraising and labor have suspended brigade activities for the current year. Educational programs that bring exchange students are also withdrawing from Honduras. In government departments and many NGOs, next year’s programming budgets are in limbo during the freeze on IMF and country donor funds.

Women attending an Adelante assembly meeting, high in the mountain village of Marcala.

In spite of all remaining obstacles, Hondurans are still hopeful that the situation will turn around, although they are not sure how or when. In the meantime, the Adelante Foundation will continue to move forward with their mission to improve the standard of living of extremely poor women living in Honduras, remaining dedicated to assisting those most vulnerable, who – in turn – are working to survive, caring for their families, and hoping their voices might also be heard amidst the clamorous sounds of international opinion and diplomatic negotiation.

By Desirae Wrathall

Dense foliage and lush trees part to reveal glimpses of the deep valley below as we bump violently along the unpaved, dusty road between the cities of Marcala and La Esperanza in the Adelante Foundation truck.  Climbing slowly, we weave around deep dry ravines in the road, carved out by heavy rains.  It is difficult to believe that this route is even passable during the wet season.  Yet, it is one of few roadways connecting the agricultural towns of the region with La Esperanza, the capital city of the Honduran department of Intibuca.  La Esperanza is also the central trading place for many surrounding communities and has several thriving markets.

Although it is one of poorest regions of Honduras, the fertile farmlands of Intibuca provide the bulk of the coffee, potatoes, and vegetables to the rest of the country.  It is also unique as it is the home of the indigenous Lenca culture.  Having only recently begun working with the Adelante Foundation, this is my first trip to the field.  I am accompanied by Sandra Moncada, Adelante’s Director of Education, Oscar Meija, Director of Operations, and Carla Salinas, Education Assistant, who is, as a side note, nearly 7 months pregnant and in my opinion, a very good sport on this jiggly 8 hour journey from La Ceiba.  We stop off briefly at an assembly meeting in small mountaintop village called San Jose.  The meeting is large – more than 30 women, standing room only.  The children gather at the doors, peering around each other to get a glimpse of what is taking place inside.  When the women proudly proclaim the Adelante motto, “Unity, Discipline, Hard Work, and Courage! This is our way of life.” the energetic sound spills out into the street and echoes down the cobblestone corridors of the town.

We arrive in La Esperanza at dusk.  The fading sunlight casts a lovely red hue up into the mountainside opposite.  The town is quiet, there are a few people still lingering around the market area, but most have left for home.  The air is cool and smells of pine forests and wood burning stoves.  It has been nearly 4 years since I last visited this place, but the smells and sounds are instantly familiar and nostalgic.  In November 2005, I spent a month here during my training as a Peace Corps volunteer, and the area holds a special place in my heart.

The next morning we awake early and make the 15 minute walk to the downtown Adelante office.  There is a meeting today for all the community educators in the region.  The women arrive enthusiastic, greeting their Adelante peers with kisses and talking excitedly amongst themselves.  These women are the teachers of their community assembly groups.  They are here to learned new educational charlas to take back and teach in their bi-weekly assembly meetings.  It is evident that these are the leaders: women who help inspire others.  The meeting is full of conversation, discussion, and ready participation.

In the late afternoon, I take a walk up to a hillside shrine, a small cave containing various religious relics.  It is a quiet, contemplative spot, with a panoramic view.  Looking out on the city itself, it does not appear particularly striking.  The streets and buildings are pale and dusty, there are few trees or gardens.  But it sits quietly nestled down beneath the pine forests which rise up majestically above it on all sides.  What truly lends Intibuca its charm, however, are the Lenca women.  Their cheerful headscarves and dresses in vibrant reds, blues and pinks come alive and almost seem set ablaze against the muted colors of the town.  The long narrow market draw me in with baskets and bins spilling over with the brightest, freshest vegetables I’ve ever seen.  Cool crisp heads of lettuce, green peppers, purple coffee beans, tomatoes and radishes red and ready for eating.

Leaving the scene I wander on, until the street gradually opens onto a familiar spot in the center of town.  It is the site of another popular market.  When I was here four years ago, there had been a fire which destroyed the market.  The plaza on which it stood had been laid bare.  At one time – in this very spot – I had stood among a sea of upturned faces, listening to the then presidential candidate, Mel Zelaya speak to the crowd from a temporary stage built up in front of the square.  I remember watching their faces as he promised the people reform and change, his charismatic voice booming loud and strong across the plaza.  Today, the square is again packed – this time with wooden shacks: an active, thriving marketplace where people rebuilt what once was lost and began again.

I continue on my way, turning down a narrow street where I discover the home I once lived in with a local family.  Across from the house is the headquarters of the Partido Liberal de Honduras (The Liberal Party of Honduras). The building is locked up tight, an old Micheletti bumper sticker is stuck to the door.  I look up to discover flying above the building, the party’s red and white flag.  It is dirty, tattered and torn, waving tiredly in the wind.  Given the current political situation, the scene seems melancholy but poignant.

Many things have changed since 2005, but even in the face of current battles, here in the heart of Honduras, the people are resilient.  Governments come and go, but the Lenca women and men have been turning this dark, rich soil and sustaining themselves since long before the arrival of Columbus.  They have endured the Spanish conquest and before that countless tribal battles.  They are a strong people but in the modern day they are faced with a declining culture and are in need of much support.  Here in the region of Intibuca, Adelante is working closely in Lenca communities to help provide tools and resources so they can continue to live independent in their traditional agricultural way of life.

Coming here has been a powerful experience for me.  I have felt inspired, and my eyes have been opened to the beauty that exists within people and places – even in the harshest environments, even in the day-to-day.   During my time with Adelante Foundation, I hope to make many more trips to the field offices around the country.  It is a facinating getting to know the clients, hearing and observing first hand how the foundation has helped to improve and enrich the lives of  Honduran women and their families.

By Desirae Wrathall

Lately, Honduras has been appearing a lot in the headlines. The political situation has been tense and volatile. At lunch I sit with three friends in a beachside restaurant, the television is tuned to CNN (Español), and all heads are turned towards the scene unfolding. Mel Zelaya, the ousted President, is at the border of Nicaragua. We watch, pensive. The camera angle stays tight on Mr. Zelaya. Microphones and cameras jostle and supporters crowd in around him. He gesticulates grandly while speaking into his cell phone, and continues walking slowly forward until he reaches the border, where only a chain separates him from both his homeland and a wall of military personnel who have been given orders to arrest him upon his return. He crosses the chain, putting himself on Honduran soil for the first time in a month. The epic showdown unfolds, and we wait with nervous anticipation, but somehow a violent culmination is averted. He crosses back into Nicaragua, thanks his supporters and sits in his white Jeep, still glued to his cell phone. As I leave the restaurant and drive through downtown La Ceiba, I look out onto the busy scene: shoppers darting in and out of stores, pedestrians hailing taxis or waiting on buses. Street vendors are selling vegetables, fresh juice, churros and national soccer jerseys. Everything appears to be…well, normal.

In spite of the continued concern for the political situation in Honduras, for the majority, life continues as usual. This is not to say that the public is unaware of the situation, most seem to be keeping up with the news as it evolves, but the country is not in a state of total upheaval as it may appear from the dramatic news coverage. Rather, there is quieter truth going on behind the scenes. It is a story that is less likely to be told, but one that speaks to the enduring strength of the Honduran people.

When I ask Hondurans about the current situation and what will happen, the responses vary, but when asked how it affects their own lives, the majority tell me with a shrug: “Segimos en la lucha como siempre. We continue the good struggle, like always.”

Maria Benitez is one of many Adelante clients who sell fresh fruits and vegetables at the large, bustling market in the city of Marcala.

Honduras is a country accustomed to interruptions. Every year they face the possible threat of hurricanes and experience tropical storms which result in floods, landslides, and washed out bridges. In 1998, the Honduras was hit by Hurricane Mitch which devoured the country, leaving it in devastation. In five of the 10 years since Mitch, Honduras has experienced other massive storms and subsequently severe flooding.

In May of this year Honduras experienced an unfamiliar kind of threat, as a 7.3 earthquake shook the country for nearly 45 seconds. Many people don’t recall having ever felt an earthquake previous to this event. However, in the weeks that followed, it seemed the ground hardly ceased to shake with 12+ earthquakes ranging from 4.3 to 5.7, and 500-700 additional tremors. Still, Honduras continued as it had before, albeit perhaps, with a heightened awareness and some new lessons learned.

Life in Honduras has never been easy. Political corruption, poverty and crime are hard realities that Hondurans face in their everyday lives. Perhaps it is for this reason that they have learned to forge ahead, despite conflicts. This strength of human spirit is appropriately in line with the Adelante Foundation’s mission. To “seguir adelante” means to “keep going forward” or “carry on.” This is what the people are doing; this is what they will continue to do. In times such as these, the country needs the support of organizations like Adelante Foundation more than ever, to empower individuals by providing the tools and opportunities necessary to continue with what they so much desire to do: continue moving forward.

By Desirae Wrathall

Maritza Turcios, Adelante client, with her "Pulperia" (a small convenience store run from the home).

With an approximated fifty percent decline in economic activity nationwide since President Manual Zelaya’s removal from office, Adelante clients are feeling the economic effects of the current political crisis. While Hondurans have been stocking up on basic necessities and lining up to fill gas tanks, no signs of such scarcity have presented themselves thus far. However, disruptions in transportation, reduced time to circulate due to the curfew, and fearfulness over what will happen next are among the factors that have contributed to this dramatic economic decline.

Adelante clients, the poorest segment of the Honduran population, generally live hand-to-mouth and are particularly vulnerable to such fluctuations in their businesses. Some of the effects to client businesses are the following (as reported by Adelante field staff):
• Many clients have businesses that require travel to large cities like San Pedro Sula and Tegucigalpa to buy the products they sell. They have not been able make the necessary purchases for three main reasons: roadblocks have prevented their passage; due to roadblocks, they cannot make the trip in one day but do not have money for a hotel; and some are just too fearful of the situation to leave their homes.
• Many clients sell food products in schools and along major bus routes. Classes have been cancelled since the crisis began on Sunday, June 28, and far fewer people have been traveling since that date.
• Clients whose businesses involve the sale of “luxury” items such as jewelry, perfumes, and clothes are afraid of investing in inventory because at times like these people tend to only spend money on the bare necessities.
• The curfew, imposed nationwide, has dramatically decreased business hours. Many of our clients sell food in the evenings. The curfew has varied since the crisis began – some evenings it has started at 6 p.m. and others at 9 p.m. It usually ends at either at 5 or 6 a.m.

Adelante’s ability to follow our methodology has also suffered. Generally, clients meet once every two weeks at an assembly with their fellow group members. In the meeting, which lasts about an hour, they report on loan payments, discuss challenges they have encountered, and receive an educational lesson. Unfortunately, these assemblies have been cut short, have had poor attendance, or have been cancelled altogether because of clients’ fear of or inability to travel to the required destination.

Thankfully, with the help of U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, a major diplomatic breakthrough was made yesterday. Both Presidents Manuel Zelaya and Roberto Micheletti have agreed to negotiate with Costa Rica’s President Oscar Arias, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1987, as a mediator. Talks will begin at noon on Thursday, July 9th. Meanwhile, Zelaya’s supporters have vowed to step up their protests to further disrupt commercial activity by blocking major highways, bridges, and international borders. If Zelaya is truly committed to finding a diplomatic solution to this crisis, perhaps he will discourage them from doing so while the talks take place. One can only hope that these two presidents fully comprehend the importance of reaching a compromise and that it results in a rapid return to political and economic order. For Adelante clients along with the rest of Hondurans, getting back to work is more important than ever.

By Sophia Anderson