Love in the Time of Swine Flu

Weakly supporting Zelaya is a masterstroke of United States foreign policy. Our vacuous support for the ex-president takes the wind out of Chavez's sails, who doubtlessly wants American credibility to be impeached as decisively as Zelaya himself was one week ago. But we have just sat back and joined a chorus of protestations, allowing the Latin countries of the OAS to take the stage of this circus. What might have been the three-ring act of Chavez, the U.S., and Honduras (the only member of both ALBA and CAFTA and thus a predictable flashpoint) is a minor side-story while we prioritize Iraq and make strides with the Russians. Well done staying out of this one, Clinton State Department. Except that the role of geostrategic noninvolvement played by Mrs. Clinton is on a decidedly personal level, it seems.

Fortunately, Manuel Zelaya's aerial stunt did not result in the "bloodbath" the archbishop forewarned, despite his public invocation of the spiritual strength of Christ's blood and promise to raise the crucifix over Honduras. I was floored by the audaciously messianic overtones of this failed seventh-day return, but my incredulity was unfounded. The military curfew that was abruptly changed from 10pm to 6:30pm extended to actual Saviors, and the 7pm Mass was canceled. Of all times and places to overthrow the state of grace!

On the topic of forbidden love, a taste of spiritual orphanage might well have been the punishment our Heavenly Father slyly meted out to our skipper. (Yesterday Dan learned that half-drunk hook-ups with Honduran orphans are also forbidden by the laws of man). And in another incidence of love in the time of swine flu, a particular clique of girls from Las Brisas (some who can almost-believably claim to be our age) are constantly calling Dan and Rodrigo to profess their undying love.

It was not only spiritual nourishment we were denied, and gorged ourselves on baleadas this morning before going out to Las Brisas for a coup of our own. Indeed our first day of classes were wildly successful, the teachers were as enthusiastic and excited as the throngs of squealing children who gathered around the machines to watch their luckiest peers play pinball, minesweeper, and solitaire. Among all these screaming kids you can see the hope for tangible results that only the skipper could see before.

Of course it was our knowing where not to get involved (periods of personal noninvolvement nonwithstanding) that was the masterstroke, here.