Before the Spaniards came, the indigenous peoples of the Americas used to pray to the gods of rain. The Aztecs worshipped the fanged god, Tlaloc, and the Mayans, the oldest inhabitants of Honduras, prayed to Chaac. These gods were fierce and demanding, often requiring animal or even human sacrifices before they would open the heavens and bless their people with life-giving rain. I don’t think I ever understood what it meant to pray for rain until these last few months. Honduras is going through extreme climate conditions right now: air pollution, a prolonged drought, and historically high temperatures. The rainy…

Holy Week is over and true summer has begun in Honduras; the ground is dry, the sky is cloudless, and the temperature peaks around 103 Fahrenheit every day. The weeks of Lent seemed to pass quickly, with no seasonal changes to mark the passing of time. I miss the seasons more than ever, especially the mild Kentucky spring and the blooms of the dogwoods and redbuds. My roommate left unexpectedly last week after accepting a new job offer. I am one of only two American volunteers left in this program – the other is Anna, who lives down the hall…

The past two weeks have kept me busy, and this post is overdue. With Lent beginning last week, the little church choir I participate in was tasked to play for several extra masses, including a wedding – my first Honduran wedding! The church, Our Lady of Mount Carmen, was hung liberally with flower garlands, but the service was no different from regular mass with a few minutes stolen for the couple to exchange vows before the Eucharistic Prayer. The decoration was very pretty, and they even drew “Mr.” and “Mrs.” in calligraphy on the backs of newlyweds’ chairs. Hondurans love…

Sundays are the quietest days in Cofradía. Shops open late and close early in the afternoon, and people move gently, unhurriedly through the streets. This has been a week of rain and clouds, with days chilly enough to wear a sweater. Now the heat has returned, but I don’t mind it so much on Sunday like this, when everything is slow and lazy, and it’s easy to shelter in the shade. This morning, I made fried plantains for breakfast, cleaned the apartment, and went to church. I met up with a family that is especially dear to me: Xiomara and…