We stayed with the parish priest who has a parish of 52 communities and 20,000 parishioners---they sure are short on priests here. Then each day we piled into the truck and headed off to a new community. One of the Hondurans on the teams seems to know every twist and turn in the maze of dirt back roads because the whole way to each new place, he'd yell directions to the driver as we climbed higher and higher up through the mountains. The medical centres here are atrocious....They are more like barns, so we had to improvise, setting up sheets and lighting lanterns where there was no electricity in the mountains. The people are very poor and the living conditions unbelievable compared to north american standards, but they are very happy too ....the catholic ones, that is, and those who have enough to eat. The most hilarious part about the trip was that I had to help give the talks in Spanish. I don't even know these terms in English!!! Our translator had to fly home because his grandfather died, so I was put on the spot translating and explaining things. I know that it was a great icebreaker at first for the shy mountain folk to hear me speaking about these delicate topics in Spanglish. But the language is definitely getting better and smoother each day.