Anglican Communion News Service

"Therefore its name was called Babel, because the Lord confused the language of all the earth; and from there the Lord scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth." Genesis 11:9

Babel

It could have looked like that. There were people of many nations speaking different languages. This time they were not building a tower, instead they were trying to show solidarity and working very hard to put together a broken people from a broken nation.

This morning as we waited the Americares jet to unload our shipment I watched as helicopters and planes went up and down bringing and taking supplies and people to the different areas of Honduras that were destroyed by the hurricane.

The Dutch Marines were there at one end, the Mexican dogs arrived from La Ceiba where they were looking for people under the rubble and of course the American troops were there working very vigorously under the San Pedro Sula sun. I found it quite interesting as Cuban doctors from Havana were being transported back to the Mosquitia where they are helping the Miskitos Indians from that region. Of course the Honduran troops were going from one end to the other under the watchful eye of their Coronel who seemed to somehow understand everything that was going on.

Just as they were finishing to load our supplies in the truck, being helped by students from the university that were donating their time to help their compatriots I got to see one little plane landing after the other. They were about 20 of them and I became curious to find out who they were. We discovered that the Aereo-Club of Guatemala was bringing supplies to us because they knew that in Honduras we had taken the blunt of the hurricane and we really needed help. Their tiny planes were full of supplies that they wanted to share with their neighbors.

The Dutch Marines watched as the Hondurans and Guatemalans embraced saying something that they didn't understand, right next to the Americans that couldn't understand neither the Dutch or the Spanish being spoken around them. But who cares, all of us there were making a difference and were trying to put together a broken people from a broken nation.

The last visit

Fr. Jose Luis knew him. He actually didn't reside at that village but had close friends there. He just wanted to make a quick visit and see how they were doing. In normal times it would have been a matter of a day trip back and forth. But it was Mitch time and it became his last visit.

At the time it was better for him to stay and sleep in the house until the storm passed. It actually made sense because it is so dangerous to be out there in a storm. His friends put him in for the night. They went to sleep hoping that tomorrow he could go back home. He never did.

The mud came tumbling down taking everything along its path. Like a wet and cold lava covering every house, every tree and every living thing. They finally found them. He was there with the family he came to visit. He and five more including 3 children. All under the mud after his last visit.

Tent City

If you travel on the 4 lane highway from the San Pedro Sula airport to the city of El Progreso, which normally takes 10 minutes you have to travel only on two lanes. One coming and one going. The other two lanes are called now Tent City.

It is not a small city, actually there are at least 8,000 people out there in the street in little tents. It's quite interesting as you travel along Main Street of Tent City and see them trying to continue life pretending as if nothing had happened. Alongside their tents are the few belongings they had, all damaged by the mud and water. Down below you could see the fields covered with mud and water. It will take at least a couple of months for them to be able to go back to their houses. It was quite interesting to see the goal in the soccer field. The top of the goal was only a few inches from the ground now that the water had gone down some. Tent city will be there for a long time.

Santa Ana

It took about 2 hours to get there but what a joy to see that the people had survived. Santa Ana is the village that I mentioned to you a few days ago where my worst seminarian is placed. I was not surprised when the service was going on. He is always having a service and the people come of course.

I think he was doing readings from Year A of the Lent season, I really couldn't figure out. But in Santa Ana it didn't matter at all. Heraldo had stayed around with them and refused to leave the village when the other pastors had fled. He was a hero.

A little old lady explained to me how important it was for me to find help repair their church building that was damaged by the wind and water of the hurricane. The Village President begged us to help repair the water pipes. They had no water now for almost two weeks since the hurricane. They needed about a 100 plastic tubes to connect the water.

Everything had been destroyed and washed away.

We prayed and asked God to help us. We also prayed for you out there where you are now, for God to touch your hearts and bless you. The people of Santa Ana had no doubts whatsoever that God was going to help them. After all my worst seminarian was their pastor and the readings said that God never abandons his people.

We finished distributing the food they needed. The first food they were able to have access to since they finished opening the roads. After I left that river of mud and poverty I was sure that the Anglican Church of Honduras was going to be here for a long time.

We had become the people of the land, our roots of faith were planted deep in the hearts of a people that lived in mountains where God could almost be touched by the lifting of your arm.