icon icon icon icon icon icon icon

Reflections on a day in Honduras

Huck Paisley visiting with local farmers in Honduras. Photo: Kimberly Williams-Paisley

Huck Paisley visiting with local farmers in Honduras. Photo: Kimberly Williams-Paisley

On Wednesday, May 29th of last year, I drew a picture for a little girl in a small remote village outside of Choluteca in Honduras. We had almost nothing in common.

We couldn’t communicate with each other through words—even though I’d had three years of high school Spanish, I didn’t speak it well enough to hold a conversation, and she didn’t know English—so we drew pictures. Ever since I was four, I’ve loved to draw. I had my sketch pad in my bag. I sat in a plastic lawn chair and she sat on her mother’s lap. I asked her through a translator what she wanted me to draw. She pointed to a skinny dog scrounging for food.

The CARE team works with Kimberly and Huck Paisley with small-scale farmers in Honduras as part of its Farmer Field and Business School. Photo: CARE

There is so much hunger in Honduras. This was my second learning tour in my six years as a CARE Youth Advocate. We were there to witness firsthand the ways CARE equips communities in need with tools to become self-sufficient and sustainable. The people here, in what is referred to as the Dry Corridor, suffer disproportionately from water shortages, which leads to heavy migration. According to the United Nations, through November of last year, over 357,796 migrants from more than 100 nationalities came into Honduras, and many of those needed urgent humanitarian assistance. Pollution and dust get trapped in the air, causing coughs and asthma and making it a challenge to farm. As we flew into the Honduran capital of Tegucigalpa, my first impression was the change in color of the sky from blue to a pasty yellow. Even stepping off the plane, my throat burned, and I had a new appreciation for the fresh air of my home city of Nashville, Tennessee.

Huck and the CARE team working in the fields. Photo: CARE

As we drove to our hotel in Choluteca, we passed makeshift homes made of propped up sheet metal and what looked like clay. To my surprise, rain began pattering the windshield of our car. As it turns out, the Dry Corridor still has a rainy season. It’s just not enough. According to USAID, weather changes could lead to a 10–20% decrease in rainfall by 2050.

I learned that CARE began work in Honduras in 1954, helping hurricane victims and running small-scale food programs. CARE officially established its country office here in 1959, starting with food distribution programs and eventually moving toward a sustainable development program that focuses on improving access to water, food security, and bringing people into economic development programs.

Olman, a CARE representative, drove us everywhere. As we rode with him he told us stories of his community. Despite being translated, I could hear the passion in his voice when he talked about his country. That was what stood out to me in the people we met: they have pride for the work they are doing, they just needed the tools to thrive. Many people flee Honduras hoping for more opportunities in America. Parts of the Northern Triangle are missing large numbers of their younger men, who are typically the ones who leave to find a job somewhere else.

In the little girl’s village, they’ve learned to make chips from plantains they grow themselves with tools and training from people at CARE. The villagers gave us a sample. They were crispy, spicy and very good.

When I finished my drawing, I handed her the picture and she smiled. As I left I realized something. I rushed back and gave her a large handful of papers from my notebook, and my pencil. She could take over the drawing herself.

Back to Top