Family Photos

"Got Money on My Mind"

On a plane back to the states from Haiti a few months ago, my very own Megan was in a particularly bad mood – cranky, dirty, hungry, etc. After she sits down in her seat, some guy comes and takes his seat next to her. He begins to talk to her and she thinks to herself, “Gee, I really wish he would quit talking to me, I’m certainly NOT in the mood for this today.” She’s very short with him, but he keeps talking. Her interest is peeked when he says that he’s in Haiti for vacation. Who goes to Haiti for vacation? ...He used to live there. She then finds out he’s the old head of a very BIG branch of the UN in Haiti. At the end of the flight, they exchange contact info and he says he’ll look her up when he comes back to Haiti.

Well he actually does. And flashforward to Thursday night, Megan and I are heading into PAP to have dinner with him. Let’s call him Carlos Santana.

I didn’t know if I would be able to make it with my leg issues, but I feel pretty good and won’t be doing much walking anyway. Someone from a team left behind a pretty floor-length dress which I now claim as my own and it does a great job of covering up the suspect spots on my legs. We hire a car that afternoon to our hotel in Petionville. Petionville is one of the nicest parts of Haiti and while our actual room is pretty basic, the pool area/restaurant/bar area is GORGEOUS. Its decorated marvelously and the view from the terraces looks like it could be in California. We go have a little afternoon snack of chicken sandwiches with cheese on them, complete with a side of French fries.

We notice a group of people nearby, rather gangster looking people, start to gather and grow in number. Then some cameras show up and other equipment – all of which leads us to believe there is to be a music video shot at our hotel very soon. I get up to go to the bathroom and on the way run into two gangster looking folks who say hello and I take this opportunity to find out what is going on. They introduce themselves as like Sniper and Swift Kick (I find out later his name is actually Straight Shot) or something like that. We have in fact stumbled onto the set of their music video, and they would like very much for us to be in it. Hahahaha. I think this is just too good/funny to be true. But sure enough when Megan and I are laying out at the pool a bit later there is a camera rolling with Straight Shot rapping into it about having money on his mind. Some other rapper who’s name is O-gun comes and sits by us at the pool and strikes up quite the conversation. I’m very entertained watching the video girls setting up in their strategic booty-shaking locations around the pool. However, it is soon time for us to be going to get ready for dinner so we excuse ourselves but promise to come back after we’ve gotten dressed. This feels more appropriate; who comes straight out of the bush looking like a wild woman with no makeup on and then is in a music video anyway?

We go back to the room and get dressed. It is SO good to have makeup on my face again and my hair down and a dress on!! We go back to the pool/restaurant area and find our rapper friends hanging out. They’re in between shooting the pool scenes and the club scenes. We go down to this “club” area where the next shots are supposed to happen and feel like we’re back in America. There are a bunch of couches, a nice bar, and flat screen tv’s all around showing ESPN. Woah. We sit with Straight Shot for awhile and chat; we decide he’s cool enough to be our friend and exchange numbers. (He’s doing a show here in Gressier/Leogane on July 17^th and he called this morning and said he’s getting us backstage passes, after inviting us to go to Jacmel this week, haha.) Mr. Santana then gives us a ring and is here to pick us up, so we go back to the lobby area to meet him.

Carlos Santana is a very good looking man, right in between Megan and me height-wise. He uses our room to change out of his suit, having been in meetings all day (including one w/the president the day before) and into something a bit more casual. He then takes us out to his car which happens to be one of those armored UN vehicles and two men with gigantic guns open the doors for us. This is all feeling a bit surreal. Megan keeps pinching my thigh and stifling giggles while we make some small talk.

For dinner we go to a restaurant called the Latin Quarter or Quatier Latin or something like that in Creole. There are tons of cars outside on the street, this is one hoppin' place. We go in and its beautiful, I feel like I’m in some hip restaurant in Miami. It feels very Cuban to me, which is strange because I’ve never been to Cuba, but you know. Also very strange is how many white people are there. We’re so not used to seeing white people, but there they all are! Its like the big white people reunion at the Latin restaurant.

For dinner I order beef medallions. My mom’s hamburgers are of better quality beef, but I don’t care because I haven’t had red meat in a month. Megan and Carl Santana get fish. Talking to Mr. Santana is a hoot. I love when he lets the juicy details of his run in the UN slip out. We have a very interesting and wonderful dinner. When we finish up we go to the back bar for a drink and there is a great Latin band playing; they are SO good. And Carlos Santana knows everyone of them, ha. As we get glasses of wine, Mr. Santana runs into some other important person that he knows who’s wife happens to be the head of a very large international humanitarian organization (WFP). Then he starts talking to me. He’s French and adorable. Megan and Carlos Santana go hit the crowded dance floor so me and the French guy do the same. It is too fun! Then Megan dances with a Haitian who’s got quite the moves which leaves me to dance with CS, who is a bit awkward. And at this point I really just want to sit down because I feel like my foot has swollen up a bit, so that’s exactly what I do right when the song ends.

As we sit and sip, Megan and I wonder where we are exactly because this just couldn’t be Haiti. This train of thought is cut short however by the next boys that want to dance. A boy from Argentina comes up and starts chatting. His English isn’t awesome and neither is my Spanish so we kind of struggle to communicate, but he’s precious and I really appreciate him trying! So I dance with him and then am done for the night. I run into my French friend on the way to the car as he is backing out in his Land Rover thing. I go to shake his hand through the window and he grabs it and instead plants a giant kiss on my hand. Haha, how French.

Back at the hotel, Megan and I crash hard, exhausted from being rap stars and international diplomats.

The next morning we get up and go sit out on the terrace for breakfast. Breakfast is MARVELOUS. We get real coffee, fresh squeezed juice, fruit, and eggs. I have a Creole omelette that is just divine. I think that we have stumbled into a little slice of heaven. We also giggle about the night before. When we get in the car on the way home, we tell our driver (Moliaire, our favorite driver) about our adventures. He gets excited and tells us he's seen our rapper friends on tv before, so they're legit. Haha, what a life. Perfect.

I&D

During one of our visits to Thorsten, we found out that a doctor lives across the street from us in our new house (ain’t that lucky). When I first started feeling sick, that’s who I went to go see last Sunday. He gave me some meds, ordered me to rest, and then said that he would do perform an I and D on my abscess in a week. I&D being incision and drain, cut me open and push all the crud out of my abscess. Ew. Come Wednesday though, the thing hurts like flaming Hades and looks like its ready to pop right open so Megan helps me across the street to get the doctor. He comes out and takes a look at the beast and says, “Ok, I’ll do it later.” And I’m like WHAT? Because I think he means later as in, its not ready yet... try again later in the week. But he reassures me that he means today and says he’ll get his tools and slicers and such ready and be over in a little bit. So we turn around to go home. I plop down on our bed and wait.

A little less than an hour later, he comes to the gate. And can I just take this opportunity to say what an amazing guy I think Doctor Frantz is? He is Haitian but speaks wonderful English, works in a clinic in a neighboring town, he’s funny, and he is darn good looking. What a guy! (He still checks up on me almost daily) I really couldn’t have picked out a better doctor to cut on me here if I had to. So anyway, I ask where he wants me to sit or whatever and he says the bed is fine. I lay down. I’m starting to feel very nervous. This thing HURTS and I can’t imagine cutting on it will make my sensory experiences more pleasant. Doctor F asks me if I’m ready, and I think, “aw what the heck,” and give a somewhat enthusiastic Yes…!

I didn’t want to make this too big of an affair, but I guess it just wouldn’t be my style if it didn’t turn out that way. So Megan has decided to be the junior doctor is running around the room excitedly scrubbing up and gathering supplies. At first I said no pictures, but then decided maybe pictures would be kinda cool, so DJ comes in with her super fancy camera to capture the memories. She stands next to me and I wrap my hand firmly around her thigh so I have something to squeeze on. Someone turns on the ipod speaker to some soothing Norah Jones. So we’re all in position, and here we GO.

I wrote the first sentence and then deleted it because I realized this is really graphic. I’m not sure if yall really want to hear all the nitty gritty details. So the short of it anyway is that I get jabbed on with at least 4 needles and then get my abscess cut open, as promised, and all the goods come out just like a piñata. All the while I’m trying not to scream because it is probably the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. I don’t actually cry like making sobbing noises (except for one time...) or anything but tears involuntarily shoot out of my eyes and run down into my ears. At some point, Megan yells, “What’s your favorite song!?!” As calmly as I can, reply, “My favorite song is Electric Feel by MGMT.” And she promptly runs to the ipod speaker and begins blasting Electric Feel. Its really weird, I’m not sure whether I’m at some super fun party or if I’m actually getting operated on in my bedroom in Haiti.

Eventually, after I really don’t know how long, its over. He wraps me up and I lay there for a minute before sitting up to survey the damage. Its pretty gross, so I’ll spare you those details on this part too. My adrenaline is pumping hard so I’m feeling really cool at this point thinking about how tough and bad-a its going to be to tell the story of my 3^rd world operation. I thank the good and wonderful doctor profusely; he really did a remarkable job on everything.

After he leaves, I lay back down and let things die down. I notice that my right leg is hurting worse than the left, which just got cut on. This strikes me as odd, and ominous. Megan comes to have a look at it and squeezes on it to get some of the juice out which hurts like MAD. She finishes up and the pain is overwhelming. My adrenaline is gone; I don’t feel cool anymore, just exhausted. And on the verge of tears. They sneak up on me really quick and just start rolling out of my eyes. I wimper at Megan that I just want to be alone for a little while, so she turns up the music and leaves the room.

And I bawl like a baby. I cry for how much I’m hurting, for how traumatizing the last hour has been, I cry for how miserable I’ve been the past week, and for how alone I’ve felt sometimes being in this far away, strange place with all the familiar comforts stripped away.

I hardly ever cry. Its like I'm outside of myself watching me cry and wondering what is this thing this girl is doing. I think the sound of my sobbing is the strangest thing. Its such a weird and foreign noise to me, so pathetic and sad sounding. I struggle to remember the last time I REALLY cried like this, a good bone-shaking cry that wells up from some unknown place deep inside. (I conclude that had to have been when I broke up with my first boyfriend). I let it ALL out right there, and its liberating in so many ways.

Its in these moments where you come to the end of yourself that you can see the truth most clearly, that God is there, sustaining and providing for you moment by moment. I felt him holding me in the palm of his hand.

A little while later, Megan comes back and takes me to the beauty parlor (aka our bathroom) and washes my hair for me. Then she makes me some delicious mashed potatoes and I go to sleep, so tired from the day. I’m very thankful to have to her take time out of the busyness to be my nurse.

(Sorry Mom & Grandma etc. if that traumatized you. You’ll be happy to know that I’m doing MUCH better now and am totally on the mend. I had a really great post-op vacation… stay tuned.) Oh and I really need to get a present for the doc because he still hasn't charged me a dime for anything. Let me know if you have suggestions!!

Moving Day

After meeting with Thorsten last week and the bier for breakfast thing (ha), we agree to move into our new place the following Monday. Come Monday, we are very excited to get this show on the road. Everyone that is home and capable (which is actually only two people) is running around packing up the massive amount of stuff that has accumulated in our house. I, on the other hand, sit on the floor next to Godzilla (my gargantuan suitcase) and put my belongings into him and a few other proximal items that I can hobble over to. All the while I am loathing this abscess, the chronic pain its causing me, and the very unhelpful sack of potatoes it has turned me into.

Finally, in the afternoon, the taptap arrives to take our first load of stuff. We know from the get go that this is going to take multiple loads and multiple days but, we’re moving, YAY! We pile our things and ourselves in and take off for our awesome new white house.

When we pull up, we happily greet Thorsten who opens the front gate for us. Megan at some point says to him, “Your life is never going to be the same.” Boy, ain’t that true. Two loud girls, a toddler that throws monumental tantrums, and a 7 year old girl that speaks no English moving in downstairs does tend to change the dynamic of a living environment a bit.

Once everything is unloaded, I look around and ask everyone what they want for dinner. I suggested earlier that we have gumbo (Zattarain’s of course) and that’s when I realize, we don’t have the hot plate. And then I look through the food that we managed to grab as we were running out of the door. What I find is Pringles, some nut mix cleverly named NUTrition, a bag of prunes, Cheezeits, Ritz cheese sandwiches, and a bunch of box dinners I grabbed that can only be cooked on a stovetop. I am highly annoyed at this discovery. I settle for some NUTrition and Pringles for dinner. A bit later I get up to go to the bathroom and discover that we have forgotten to bring toilet paper. Awkward. I remember that I have some paper towels left in Godzilla from when my shampoo spilled back in Florida and those suffice. But then when I’m done, I see that we haven’t brought any trashcans with us and there is nowhere for me to throw my used paper towel wipes… hm. Little piles of dirt and crumbs start accumulating on the floor and soon I’m just dying to sweep a bit. That’s when I discover that, oh, we left the broom at the other house as well.

I go back to the front porch to snack on a Cheezit or two and someone suggests that we grab a couple of Prestiges to celebrate moving today. I think that is a great idea and I make a mental agreement with myself that I will be totally fine and not annoyed or cranky by the fact that we neglected to bring some very key items along with us this first trip. Just give me a Prestige and I will be quiet and happy.

Now normally, I would just go to the corner store/shack myself and buy the beer. I even wanted to go to the old house earlier and grab the cook top and just make a good ol’ dinner for everyone. However, my legs don’t work so I sit out on the porch and wait. A million things are going on, as usual, and it seems the beer has been forgotten. So I keep sitting there. I know that if I ask again for the beer run to commence, I will be annoying and no one wanted to go back to the old house for the cook top before the sun set. I know there are more important things going on. Usually its totally ok because I can just do it myself, or get up and go amuse myself some other way. But now I can’t. So I keep sitting there. And I get to thinking; thinking about how ANNOYED I am that we didn’t even bring TOILET PAPER and I have to eat PRINGLES for dinner and my leg hurts and I’m sick of being a stinking CRIPPLE!! And so after about 45 minutes I stand up and announce that I don’t care, I’m going to the store myself! But DJ stops me and Megan notices me now that I’m standing and they sit the old crank back into her plastic deck chair and go to the store. A few minutes later they come back and I can see that what they are carrying looks much more like plastic Tampico bottles than Prestige bottles... The store is out.

My head threatens to spin off my body because I’m just not sure what I’m going to do with myself now!! I think at the back of my mind, over anything and everything else, I feel the most upset that I don’t even have my health anymore. The infection in my body has taken such a physical, mental, and even a steep emotional toll. I just want to help, that’s what I came here to do. But now I know that I'm more of a burden than anything else. But then, in the middle of my spiral, its almost like someone taps me on the shoulder and says, “Look around you.”

I look around and see this BEAUTIFUL house that we are SO lucky to have found because God told us to talk to some random guy that we ran past one day. We have electricity and internet. I have a shower to look forward to that I don’t have go outside and draw out of the well first. The toilets flush and water comes out of the sinks. I have a bed to sleep in and decent clothes to wear. Maybe I didn’t have awesome choices for dinner, but I ate; and by golly, we did remember to bring the drinking water! And then I was reminded that this is for ONE night only. The other things will come with the other loads.

I feel very humbled. And a little ashamed.
And then at peace knowing that I am loved and provided for by a God who gives us our daily bread. He knows what I need even before I ask him. He knows what I need better than I do myself. And he graciously gives, and gives, and gives.

The Haitian people don’t have very much; next to nothing really. It was hard for me to grasp how much they don’t have coming from my world of excess. But they are so incredibly happy, they are so incredibly rich in spirit. Especially the children we work with who are always playing and laughing. They melt my heart when they wrap their arms around my legs, smile up at me and shower me with hugs and laughter. And I’m always taken aback by how thankful everyone is. They’re so quick to thank us for teaching them, playing with them, or even taking time to sit and talk with them. The people I've met aren’t driven by their desire to get, get, get.

It magnifies for me just how unhappy I am with our materialistic culture in the US. It's sad to watch all of the things that are sacrificed in favor of money and a bunch of stuff that isn't going to last and can't go with you when you die. So many expend their time and energy to make more money in order to buy more things that they believe are going to make life better. You really have to ask, better in what sense? In many ways, life in the US is so much better than in Haiti. But then, in so many ways, it really isn't.

And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world, but lose your own soul? (Mark 8:36)

Jacmel

Last week the builder for our school, Kyle, flew in from LA so Megan and I went into PAP to pick him up. We then proceeded to spend the week running around measuring land, looking at other schools, bugging Kyle while he drew plans, meeting with Haitian builders, etc. On Wednesday, the opportunity presented itself to go to Jacmel with two awesome doctors that had also been staying with us that week. Jacmel is on the other side of some mountains on the south shore of the island and has beautiful beaches. Vacation!

So on Wednesday morning the car we’ve hired pulls up and its this very nice Toyota truck. However, it soon becomes clear that we will not be fitting in there comfortably. Kyle and the driver sit in the front while Megan, Ritha, Amelia, and I pile into the backseat with Gabriel on top. Megan and I take turns leaning forward so the other person can have some breathing room for a few minutes. The ride isn’t so bad at first… but then we hit the mountains. Oh and let me fill you in on some Haitian driving rules: 1) Drive really fast. 2) Take up as much of the road as possible. 3) Play chicken with other drivers. Play to win. 4) Honk constantly. So this road is really nice in terms of being paved and the view is absolutely gorgeous, but I soon realize that I am getting a bit carsick. I try to just lean back, take in lots of fresh air, and tell myself that I’m totally fine and I’m not going to barf all over these nice people and this nice truck. Gabriel must not be as good at talking himself out of it though because he beats me to it and starts barfing. Megan catches some of it in her hand and asks if he’s finished. He nods… and then projectile vomits onto Amelia. The driver pulls over and I hop right on out of that car to avoid whiffing any vomit and starting a domino effect. We quickly clean up the situation and are back winding around curves and riding the brakes.

When we finally get to our hotel in Jacmel, I am SHOCKED, pleasantly, to see the accommodation. Its like we’re in Florida or something. Our room is air conditioned, you can flush the toilet paper, and we have an absolutely beautiful view of the pool and Caribbean. For lunch, and every meal thereafter in Jacmel, Megan and I eat cheese sandwiches. I think I had forgotten what cheese tastes like. Then I remembered, cheese is REALLY good. The drinks at this place were also amazing; they blend all the fruit up right there in front of you. So fresh!

After basking in the glow of cheese and tropical drinks, Megan and Gabriel go to the room for naptime while Kyle and me go scope out the beach. We climb a very long set of stairs down the side of the mountain, hop a very large gate, and then come upon our first beach. It looks nice but is covered in boats that smell like dead fish, so we decide to keep going. After walking through some corn fields, dodging a couple of motorcycles, and passing some small beaches that aren’t good for swimming, we come upon a beautiful beach dotted with people swimming and sunning. I immediately swim out and start floating around on the waves while Kyle talks to some of the Haitian guys. The day is stunning and perfect.

After a while, I swim in and sit on the beach. A Haitian comes up to me, I think he said his name is John Ronald, and starts talking to me in decent English. Of course question number 3 or 4 that he asks me is if I have a boyfriend. I say yes, because I made the mistake of saying no too many times, and he proceeds to ask me if I love my boyfriend etc. Then he points at Kyle who is still out swimming and asks if he is my boyfriend. I say no. Well JR insists that he is my boyfriend, and I tell him that I’m pretty sure Kyle is not my boyfriend. But then JR is like, “Ha, you lie! He told me he was your boyfriend!” So then I’m like, “Oohhh yea! You’re right, he totally IS my boyfriend. Haha…” In my head I am dying laughing because now I look like the worst girlfriend ever. Thank you sweet Kyle for trying to help me out with my frequent marriage proposal problem!

Later, we go back up to the pool where we have a delicious dinner of cheese sandwiches and lounge until well after dark. When we go to bed, I am reminded how awesome it is to sleep in air conditioning. We get up the next morning, have some beach time and cheese sandwiches before getting a car back to Gressier. I am feeling a bit of a post vacation slump.

The next morning we have a meeting with Thorsten, the awesome German guy from whom we are subletting our new house (the one we found on the run), to discuss the terms of our sublease. Megan, Kyle, and I head over there, Megan with her VIA in hand (VIA is Starbucks instant coffee that she is a huge fan of). Thorsten welcomes us in and offers us drinks from his mini beverage fridge: water, juice, tequila, something else, or VIA. I take a water and Kyle says he’ll have a VIA. Thorsten goes to the fridge and grabs a water and two Prestige beers. Oops, turns out we couldn’t understand the German accent and he was actually saying beer, not VIA. Hahahah, so it’s barely 9am and Kyle is having beer for breakfast along with Thorsten.

All the while this is going on, I notice this bump on my leg that looks like just another bug bite. One thing that has REALLY annoyed me here is that I have some new awful thing crop up on my skin every few days so I don’t think much of it. But after a few days it just keeps getting more red and puffy and painful. I figure its a spider bite and try to use the iphone to google pictures of spider bites. One of them looks like what I have, so I figure that’s a solid diagnoses. Two days ago it gets to the point where I don’t want to go anywhere and stay at home with Gabriel while everyone else goes into PAP to take Kyle to the airport and make a Delimart run. I start feeling pretty sick and so that evening we call Thorsten and ask him to call his doctor neighbor to see if he would take a look at me that evening. Thorsten comes to pick Megan and I up in his very nice truck (felt like I was in America while in that car… I think it had satellite radio) with the doctor and we go back to his house to have it looked at.

The doctor pokes it for a little while and asks me if it hurts, which yes, it does VERY much. And he’s like, “Mhmm. Yes, well, you have an abscess. You need to REST and if you walk around, you need a crutch.” And I’m thinking, “Where in the heck am I gonna get a crutch??” So he gives me meds and in a week he wants to cut it open and drain it. Should be exciting. So I’m just laying around sleeping a lot and being generally worthless and annoying to everyone because I can’t help out with stuff. Its been pretty miserable. Today it looked a little better, I think some of the swelling may have gone down. But yea, its been really humbling not being very mobile and hurting all the time. It makes me so, so, so thankful for the fact that I’m generally healthy and can walk around pain free! Add it to the list of things I take for granted, which seems to grow everyday here.

The Mango Curry Bomb

On Saturday, Megan and I just so happen to be having a bad day; the WORST day. I can’t even begin to list off to you the things going wrong, I don’t even want to try. So anyway, at the end of the day when I figure things aren’t going to get any worse, we go for our evening run. We run to the sea and are doing a great job at blowing off steam and trying to just put the day behind us. When we get home, however, we run into that darn group of boys that is ALWAYS outside our gate loitering. They’re generally out there to yell at me when I throw Gabriel’s poopy diapers and other sorts of trash into our burn pile across from our gate. They yell in silly tones, “cholera!” and the other day they called me diaper girl, which I did not appreciate. And today they are taunting us and calling us names worse than usual. Totally not a good day for this, dudes!

I yell at them in English (you know, because that’s what I’m fluent in and all), “Haven’t you people ever heard of LOITERING!?! Its ILLEGAL!!” (although loitering totally doesn’t exist as a word in Creole) and head in the gate. Megan, who can actually understand what these guys are saying, instead walks up to one of them and starts going off on him in Creole. Don’t ask me what they were saying, but I watch as these two are going at it, slightly lost, and slightly amused at the whole ordeal. Then she turns around to come inside with me.

And then we begin scheming. I suggest that we throw a poopy diaper onto the concrete slab outside our gate so that way they won’t gather there anymore, because who wants to hang out around a poopy diaper anyway. Especially an infamous Gabriel poopy diaper, aka mango curry (because its orange and runny 99% of the time…)?? So she grabs a poopy diaper and hands it to me, then we run outside and out the gate and I slap that bad boy out onto the slab. Commence the poop hitting the fan! (So to speak.)

When the loiterers see it, they get super upset and decide to start dumping trash from our burn pile onto our front gate slab!! And this particularly “bright” individual who lives in the tent in our front yard decides to run up to the gate, open it, and start yelling, “Megans! Megans! What do we do? Ahhg!” which gives them the perfect opportunity to start dumping trash INSIDE our gate. So we’re like, “GET INSIDE AND SHUT THE GATE!” Which he finally does. And then the people inside our gate, the tent people in our front yard, start going crazy on us. They really start raising cane about us dumping our trash across the road and we’re really wondering what the heck we should do at this point. I’m feeling a bit panicky, expecting an angry mob to bust down our gate at any second and wring my neck.

We sit at the dinner table, eating our beans and rice by candle light, discussing the ridiculousness that has just ensued. Thank goodness Toshi is there with us, a good Haitian friend of ours from PAP. Megan asks her if we should go ahead and apologize to the people out front and although she thinks they’re really crazy, she also thinks apologizing is a good idea. She agrees to translate and we tuck our tails and go over to the front of the house to being the apology. The dialogue is long and in Creole, but Toshi translates for me as I say, “I’m sorry we put our trash across the road, we really don’t know where the heck else to put it.” Toshi cleans up the presentation a bit for me, thank goodness. Finally, like 30 minutes later, Toshi and Megan tell me that things are resolved enough and we go back to the dinner table to finish up our rice and beans. Megan decides that tomorrow we also have to apologize to the loiterers for yelling at them. I secretly think to myself that the loiterers deserved to be yelled at run off by poopy diapers and that Megan has a stinking heart of gold. But I also know that this was a bit ridiculous and feel bad about the diaper and... she’s ultimately right.

So the next morning Megan goes to apologize to them. She had a dream about one of them in particular and that just so happened to be the one she runs into in the morning. She tells him that we don’t appreciate their behavior, but we’re sorry etc. etc. And wonder of wonders, he cuts her off and begins apologizing to her for everything. He says that he could tell we were in a bad mood and that they should have left us alone. Woah. Thennnn, a little later she goes to find the ringleader of the little gang of loiterers and finds out that he has a wife and a 9 mo old baby at home! It all makes sense now as to why he is scared of cholera; a baby can die of cholera in like 16 hours. He just approached it in such a joking manner the entire time, we had no idea he was seriously afraid. So she apologizes to him and explains that if he or anyone else around happened to get cholera, she has enough medicine to treat 100 people and that he should come to her first. His demeanor instantly changes and he also apologizes for everything that the loiterers have been up to! If you knew this guy, you would know how big this is. Talk about God taking our stupid actions and making the best of a bad situation!

Now we feel better than ever about our neighbors because we know this little group is on the lookout for us. This has also opened up the door for us to give them job opportunities and get to know them better. Not to mention, it makes for a pretty hilarious story. I’ve cracked up through most of the last 20 minutes...winning.

Run to the Water (How We Found Our New House)

Megan and I always have the best of intentions to exercise, but that sort of falls by the wayside a lot. Today (Thursday), we finally get our act together, lace up our tennis shoes, and head out for a run. We really aren’t certain that we’ll be able to make it to the end of the road as neither one of us have run in ages, but we decide to head for the top of the mountain where the land for the new school is.

I talked to one of my Haitian friends last week about running, asking if they like to run and whatnot. Basically, they do not. The idea of running for fun/exercise is foreign here and they’re all really fit anyway so it just doesn’t happen. The two white chicks look extra ridiculous to the neighborhood today as we run by in work out gear, sweating buckets, and turning red. (Sometimes I like to break out in a chant of WHITE CHICKS! WHITE CHICKS! Because I think that’s really funny.)

We somehow manage to actually make it up the mountain without stopping. Well, ok, we stopped once when we passed this big group of people because we were a little embarrassed. But anyway, from the top of the mountain you get a beautiful view of the Caribbean and it just looks extra beautiful today. I spot this road down on the other side of the mountain that looks like it leads right up to the shore and I ask Megan how she feels about a little exploratory adventure run. She, of course, thinks that’s a great idea so we take off down the far side of the mountain.

At some point, while picking our way through people’s backyards and stuff, a little boy with beautiful features and the most precious smile starts running behind us. It isn’t long before we’ve made it across the highway and are basically crawling up the last steep hill that separates us from the water, all the while greeting the fine Haitian folks who think we look ridiculous (which we do). We make it down the other side and find this path that looks promising to take us to the water. The kid is still with us although he’s gone the entire distance in a pair of rubber Walmart sandal things. So we decide he’s cool enough to hang out with us and ask his name. It’s Bebeson. Cute, right? So Bebeson, Megan, and I run the last bit down this trail and find a BEAUTIFUL beach. The gravelly shore extends out from the marsh into the Caribbean and we walk around picking up shells and little crabs. It rained earlier in the afternoon so its clear enough now to see the big island off in the distance very well and everything is bathed in various shades of a peaceful blue. It is magical.

After we finish gawking at all the beauty of this lovely beach we turn around to head home. On the way back we look around at different houses. Megan has been looking for a new place to rent here in Gressier for several reasons, but hasn’t found anything yet. We make it back to our side of the highway and when we get halfway up, we run into this group of guys who are taking down a big house that was severely damaged during the earthquake. One man dressed in blue jeans and a polo seems to be in charge and I'm like, "That guy looks like he would know where we could find a rental." Someone calls him away at that moment and we turn to leave, but I tell her that I have this feeling she should really talk to him. We wait for a minute and then walk over to strike up a conversation.

I say the 3 or so Creole phrases that I know and then get quiet and let them talk. Turns out he has 2 properties to rent and he asked us if we’d like to go see them. Of course we do! The first one is very nice but is on the highway, so its rejected. The second house we go to is AWESOME. Its this big white house that these German doctors have been staying in and, without boring you with details, lets just say its perfect!! Megan has seen this place many times before and said she always thought it was nice and wanted to see it. That was such a cool encounter randomly asking this man on the side of the mountain if he knew of any places to rent! (cough, Holy Spirit)

The German doctor isn’t leaving until September, but he said he is willing to let us sublet the bottom part of the house. The only problem is that its massively expensive. We’re praying that somehow we’ll get a more reasonable price or find a way to pay for it. Preferably by the end of the month…. Or like now.

Anyway, in summary: great run, magic beach, cool random encounter, awesome day.