Being from another country has resulted in quite a few funny moments in our life here in Honduras. And since Sarah would really like me to tell some stories on her siblings…..
….let me preface this by saying that this happened when Allana was younger, MUCH younger. We needed to renew several of our passports. This involved a lot of paperwork and traveling to a large city a few hours away to visit the American consulate. We had been discussing going to see the Consul at the consulate to finish the paperwork. If we were unable to take care of business at the consulate, we would have to travel to the capital about 7 hours away to visit the embassy. Allana, listening to this conversation, must have filed away the unfamiliar words “consul/consulate” and “embassy” to use in a future conversations. Imagine my surprise a few days later when she asked in her sweet little voice, ” Mommy when are we going to see the imbecile at the embassy?”
Our youngest three children were born in Honduras and have dual citizenship. This has occasionally been a cause for confusion in Josiah, Lydia, and Charity. In 2012 when Obama was inaugurated for the second time, we were listening to the audio of the inauguration on the internet. When the national anthem started playing the older kids put their hands on their hearts and faced the flag in our school room. Lydia, who was 5 at the time, followed their example. After a few seconds she looked around and saw that Francis (our Honduran “daughter”) was not standing and did not have her hand on her heart. When she asked why, I explained that because Francis was not American she would honor the Honduran anthem instead of the American national anthem. With a horrified look on her face, she quickly jerked her hand away from her heart and exclaimed, “But Mommy, I’m not American either….”
When we first arrived in Honduras, I didn’t speak much Spanish…basically just “Hi, how are you?” type phrases. One day while I was downstairs at the Bible school trying to converse with one of the pastor’s wives, Nathaniel yelled down from the window of our apartment that the washing machine was overflowing. In spite of being 7 months pregnant, I took off running to the upstairs apartment. When I finished mopping up, I went back downstairs to finish my conversation. The pastor’s wife asked me what happened. In my very limited Spanish and with hand motions I tried to explain that the washing machine had overflowed. I knew it was a language fail when she listened to my explanation, looked at me for a moment and then said, “Well….maybe you need vitamins…..”