Fleeting Capture: Honduras Revisited: Axel and the Chapel

It was high time. I had the opportunity to stop by Honduras on my way to Costa Rica for my sixth annual Study Abroad program that I lead.

May 25-28, 2017 – the last time I visited Honduras, my projects, and my godchild Axel Quintero Padilla. See my earlier post Tocayo

Then:

My projects – the Moscati Conference Center and Dormitory , as it is so eloquently named, and the Holy Family Surgery Center Chapel were still being worked on, and were not well on track for completion for the Fall 2017 medical brigade – basically, a significant enough a state of incompleteness to feel that the project is not really finished, as the claim was made. There was still much to be done and time running out. And Axel? He was finished with high school and started his one year residency at NPH working in the school library as well as the special needs house, before he could start University. So he was around at the time at least.

Now:

The Moscati Center has been open since the Fall of 2017 (opened unfinished of sheer necessity), though it was not serviceable for the September brigade. It has since been mostly completed so as to be used as designed, and bugs are still being worked out.

But it has turned out well.

And Axel? He has turned out well, too. I am proud of him, now 19 years old.

We spent Saturday, January 5, wandering the ranch, walking to the next town on a path I had walked many times, but never far enough to get to this town. A mere collections of houses, a tiny school and church, nestled against a verdant backdrop of hills, Tamalequeso is a representation of what I think rural Honduras looks like. Many of these townsfolks “commute” on foot to and through the ranch to get to their buses for work or provisions. We walked with a gentlemen my age, hoisting two bags of chips and related products over his shoulder to sell. As he was laid off a few years ago from his 30 year job with NPH as a wood cutter, he received a small plot of land and stays satisfied. We enjoyed an interesting conversation, as we could relate as older people being so much more “endurable” compared to the much younger Axel. I think I wore him out on this trek of over 7 miles.

The town has been visited by Axel before, and on the only soccer field, tournaments have been played. It was quite warm that day, so we stopped at what could pass as a house but was really a small tienda selling snacks and soft drinks. I confess to a weak spot for central American Coke as it is sweetened with real sugar. Combined with some Yucca chips, it made for an adequate snack and rest stop.

Typical small house and farm in the town, typically of mud brick
and wood and tile roofs.

It was a really special time. There is an overriding sense of peace in this place, yet it is rooted in many sad stories of family loss. We had many conversations, but the one that resonated with me most, was Axel’s decision not to become a doctor but to pursue architecture. When asked why the change of heart, he realized he can still help people as an Architect. Shelter and food is a greater, more fundamental human need even than medical care. And we help people with shelter.

The ranch farm, looking toward one of my favorite hills to
climb on my morning walks.

Which brings me to my projects.

The Moscati Center is nice, especially the courtyard, encircled by suspended hammocks between the columns (an idea not credited to me but rather to my longtime, recently deceased friend David Andersen). It is quite adequate in terms of volunteer housing, perhaps even a bit too nice for a poor nation that attracts missionaries. But I was reminded that the medical staff on these brigades work very long hours and deserve a decent environment. They have it.

Front view of the Moscati Center

The courtyard - just wait a few years for the vegetation to become lush

Hammocks and homemade folding wooden chairs

But the chapel attached to the One World Surgery Center is, as I announced to Axel, one of my favorite projects. Small, trapezoidal in plan, and literally carved out of the rock mountain, utilizing this indigenous stone as building blocks, it is, in my opinion, a jewel. Oh yes, there are little things that I think could have been done better, but the craftsmen that worked so diligently on this little structure poured all their love, heart and muscle into this holy shrine. Many never get to work on a church – it is certainly honorable to do so. Carpenters made the pews, rails, niches and altar all out of local Honduran mahogany, beautifully executed. A natural, mortarless true Roman arch with a keystone was the work of true stonemasons, along with the quarter sphere “dome,” an architectural reference to a transept. The gently warped roof accentuates the ceiling as it rises to the front, and the trapezoidal shape plays tricks on the eyes in terms of the visual perspective inside the space.

It is one of the few truly theatrical, in a sense, creative spaces I have done. And I am quite pleased at the result, and more pleased by the good work of the craftsman that make it what it is. Let’s hope it lasts.

A visual gallery follows:

Exterior view showing warped roof plan and stone quarter dome.
The stone was quarried right from the church site.

Peking in through the beautiful mahogany doors.

Trapezoidal plan to emphasize the theatrical perspective and sense of space and distance.

The main sanctuary as seen from the entrance doors. The trapezoidal
plan alters the true perspective, making the altar seem more distant than it really is.