Things don't always...

...go the way we planned.

For some people, this just makes life more exciting. For others, it makes life a nightmare spinning wildly out of their control. 

I think I find myself falling somewhere in the middle of that extensive spectrum. 

I'm a professed type-A personality who isn't centered without my stack of yellow Post-it notes. Lists bring me comfort and checking them off, even more so. I like to know what's going to happen tomorrow, next week, next year and neatly plot it out in my planner. 

But at the same time, I like the idea of change and unpredictability and waking up tomorrow to a day that you weren't at all expecting. It keeps you from becoming complacent and disengaged with the world around you, and with yourself.

So, as you may have guessed, Honduras didn't turn out as planned. I found myself at a school where textbooks mattered more than teachers. Mindless worksheets mattered more than imparting knowledge. Empty points mattered more than assessing a student's abilities. Basically a for-profit school that cared far more about the money that was coming in than creating a conducive learning environment for teachers and students. Where teachers were "dispensable commodities" easily acquired and just as easily fired.

After working more than nine different jobs in three different countries, I know there's no such thing as the "perfect" workplace. Concessions must be made and, frankly, there are just things that you have to learn to put up with. But that is one thing. Being somewhere where your help is not wanted or needed, where is no room for input or suggestions, where the students go behind their teachers' backs to have them fired or reprimanded when things don't suit them, and where the principals back the parents instead of their teachers, that I can't do. If a teacher cannot have the support of both the students and teachers, she must have at least one of them. And if both are against her, then the struggle is hopeless from the beginning. 

It's sad and frustrating to leave a journey when it's just begun, but I don't at all consider it time wasted. I mean, I finally made it to Central America! I got to experience life in a beautiful, rural Honduran town for a couple weeks. I became acquainted with Honduran Spanish and learned my fair share of slang. I made great strides towards overcoming my fear of insects (lol). And I met some truly wonderful people who I know will always be here waiting with welcoming arms and open homes. 

So where will I be 3 months from now? 6? I can't say. The hope, of course, is to be back on the road sooner rather than later. Until then, I'll do my best to take advantage of my time at home and with time well-spent with friends and family.

Thank you, Honduras, for being yet another learning experience on this mad adventure called my twenties. 

I'll put another story in my pocket and turn the page in anticipation for the next one.