Au Revoir, Zami Mwen

This is it.  

My last blog for this trip.  

I started planning for this trip back in 2011.

I saved, I prayed, I planned.

Now, it's over.

I don't even know where to begin in processing all that this trip has entailed; I've no doubt that I will be processing the impact of this trip on me for months (years?) to come.  I won't try to encapsulate all of it (any of it?) at this time.

What I can share with you is how God continues to work right up to the moment I leave.

Chedner's kids

I met a woman named Elizabeth Landers about five weeks ago at horse therapy.  She and her friend Humena took an interest in the kids, and lots of video was made.  The two of them came to visit last Wednesday at the orphanage after horse therapy, and we talked about what needs the orphanage has.  Elizabeth mentioned that she had a friend who might be able to help us clear the land for the school, and we made plans to meet Monday morning at the land.

Chedner's kids again

They were having a hard time finding the land, so Gertrude and I walked up a ways to meet them (we were already sweaty since we had walked to the land from the Rebo Cafe, about 15 minutes).  I didn't know what kind of car to look for, so imagine my surprise when two black cars with tinted windows pulled up.  Both of them had flashing red and blue lights on indicating that they were government cars. Out steps Elizabeth and her friend Thierry.  Out of the other car step two armed security guards.  Turns out her "friend" is in the Martelly government--I think as an adviser to the President.  Sure wish I'd known that!  I would have worn something besides a T-shirt and shorts.

It seems as if Elizabeth will be able to find us a bulldozer that we can use to tear down the remaining parts of the crumbled guesthouse and she may be able to help Gertrude find access to more rice/beans/cornmeal for the kids to eat.  Who'd a thunk that horse therapy would lead to connections in the Haitian government.  Go God.

Then the group that is here now has given me some contacts about adopting the kids here.  Three families are seriously interested in Leo, Kendina, and my Alicia (yes, I'm still a bit jealous of her being adopted!).  My feelings aside, God is working in these kids lives through everyone He brings to Gertrude's.  Go God.

This morning was my last day of swim therapy, and a young woman was relaxing by the pool when Alain, Christine, and I arrived.  We talked for a few minutes, and it turns out we have a couple of things in common: we've both been here since January, we've both been working in orphanages with special-needs kids, and we both want to come back to continue are work.  The difference is that she wants to come back to work in PAP instead of Gonaives.  She actually helped with Alain this morning, so both kids had a good hour in the water.  She is interested in coming back to work with the kids at Gertrude's (Rachael has training in working with special-needs kids, so she'd be a step ahead of me).  Go God.

I handed off the music skyping to Gabriel this morning; he will be taking over in the fall when school starts up again.  Horse therapy is in the hands of Alix who comes on June 1.  Water therapy is now under the control of Healing Haiti.  I love these programs, and I want to still be a part of them.  But, if they are to succeed, I know that they have to be able to function whether I'm here or not.  I know that in my head, but my heart is struggling with letting them go into the hands of others.  It's arrogant to think that I have to be the one to run them, but that's how I'm feeling right now.  I have to get over that!

I went over to Chedner's orphanage today because Rosie said the kids had something for me.  They are the best.  They had a song prepared for me, and then the oldest spoke and said "thank you" for all that I had done.  Just about broke my heart.  I promised that I would come back and that I would bring friends with me (that means YOU!)  

Someone--I honestly don't know who--put up a bunch of signs around the building today saying good-bye to me.  Sweet.  The teachers had a gift for me.  It's too much.  Everyone here has already given me so much;  I don't need the tangible gifts at all.  But, they will serve as daily reminders of my time in Haiti and will remind me that I must return.

I need to take the time to figure out what this trip has meant for me; that will take time.  As answers come to me, I will find ways to share them.  I may send out e-mails, I may post on my Facebook page, or I may write more blogs.  Until then, thank you for reading, following along, and walking with me on this journey.  Your support has meant the world to me.

It's a Party!

Today is Mother's Day in Haiti.

Church

Party food

I didn't know that until church this morning when they did quite a few special tributes to mothers.  It was pretty cool.  I also figured out that that's why the teachers planned a special party for the nannies this afternoon!  The party was pretty cute.  The nannies were escorted in by the younger boys, the kids sang songs, and presents were given out to each of them.  The timing worked out well because I was able to give out my gifts at the same time--I liked it that way because I didn't want it to be a big deal.  The food was pretty typical "party food" here: popcorn, cookies, and candies.  You could see the kids just about start salivating at the BIG bowl of popcorn.  One addition to the party food were little sandwiches made with some sort of vegetable salad type filling.  They looked good, but I didn't have one.

Church this morning was LONG!  Pretty much a three-hour service due to the Mother's Day activities.  I am so glad I brought my Bible along to read because I think I might have gone stir crazy otherwise.  I can get parts of the service now, but to really understand it, I have to concentrate so much I get a headache.  Even though it was long, I'm glad I went one last time with the kids.  Lovely held my hand the whole way there and the whole way back.  The group of psychology students and their adviser came with us.  They enjoyed it--they haven't been able to get out much and see the area because of the work they are doing at a nearby medical clinic.

Buddha contemplating garbage

Cool flower at the historical park

I took a couple of them to the Sugar Cane Historic Park just to get out for a bit.  They enjoyed it--we had a drink and a bite to eat at the restaurant there.  I think the part they liked the most was coming back on taptaps and motorcycles!  I enjoy showing people around.  So many of the groups aren't able to get out of the compound or out of the chauffeured vehicles that they miss out on some great experiences.  Yesterday I sent them on the "tour" that includes the Apparent Project and the drive up to Radio Hill.  They loved it!  Of course, their trip also included a stop at Star 2000, a grocery store, so that may have what put them over the edge.

Daily storm clouds!

I had a rough moment this afternoon when party preparations were under way.  It hit me hard that I leave in two days.  I almost started crying.  It's going to be harder to leave than I thought.  It's not so much the leaving that will be hard; it's the saying good-by.  I am not looking forward to that part.  I just want to go to bed Tuesday night like it's any other night, get up Wednesday morning, and head out like any other morning. It's just that this Wednesday I'll be taking all my stuff with me.

My gift from the teachers!

One way that I can tell leaving will be harder than I thought is that I'm jealous of the people who get to stay.  One of the psych. group has grown very attached to my Baby Alicia, and I don't like it.  She's posted pictures of the kids on her Facebook page, and some of her friends are seriously interested in adopting Leo, Alicia, and Kendina.  Which is great.  But I don't want my Alicia to be adopted while I am gone.  I want to meet the adoptive parents and give my stamp of approval.  I'm jealous of the folks who will come stay here in my absence because they will experience the kids in ways that I won't.  Life will go on here without me, and that thought bothers me.

These feelings lead me to think that my return to America will be more topsy-turvy than I thought.  I apologize in advance to my friends and family--please forgive me my touchiness, sadness, and mood swings in advance!

Bittersweet

Today is Saturday, so that I means I have my Creole lesson with Oriol.  He shared that the group I spoke with at his church a couple of weeks ago really liked my being there and wanted me to come again.  I was flattered and said that I would love to go back on my next trip to Haiti.

He stared at me.

He thought I was going home on JUNE 29, not May 29.  I thought he was going to start crying.  I felt so bad for the misunderstanding that I felt like crying.

Oriol has been such a blessing to me in so many ways: friend, tutor, explainer of all things Haitian.  I have come to really value his friendship, and I will miss seeing him every week.  He has decided to hire a tutor to help him prepare for the TOEFL test so that he can take it again and earn a better score.  His dream is still to come to the U.S. to study music and education so that he can become a teacher.  Please pray for him as he continues to work toward making this dream a reality.

Ironically, after saying good-bye to Oriol, just a couple of hours later I got to say hello to a friend that I haven't seen in 3 1/2 years!  Joanna Dohs (Thiele) came by to visit with her husband John.  I first met Joanna on my first mission trip to Haiti back in November of 2009.  She was one of the leaders of that trip, and we have stayed in touch via e-mail, phone conversations, and Facebook, but we haven't actually seen each other since that trip.  It was great to meet her husband and catch up on so much.  As we talked I was struck by how many people I have met through my trips to Haiti.  It's like this whole other part of my life that is distinctly separate from my life in the States.  At least now, though, I have three people from my life in the States who know what I'm talking about when I reference people/places in Haiti: Michaela, Susan, and Rhonda.

I would love it if more of you came for a visit with me!  There is so much to do and see--I think you'd like it! So, if you have an interest in coming on a trip to PAP, let me know.  I will be more than happy to plan it.

I'm enjoying myself up on the roof tonight.  A fine breeze is blowing as another evening storm moves in.  I can hear the thunder, and the lightening is gorgeous.  And here comes the rain!  Time to pack it up because the rain here has been pretty vicious as of late.

The First of the Lasts

View from Delmas

It's really starting to hit home that I leave in less than a week.  I had to run up to Delmas 66 to have pictures printed, and as I walked back down, I realized today was probably the last time I would be up that way on this trip.  I stopped and looked out at the ocean off in the distance.  I just love that view.  I took some pictures, but they just can't capture the look as well as the human eye.

Looking down Delmas

At Delmas 75 I stopped and purchased a Coke and an ear of corn for lunch.  I leaned up against the 1/2 brick wall and ate.  I got lots of stares and a few comments, but today those didn't really bother me.  I was focused on being able to eat cooked food from a street vendor, which is hard to do in most places in my area.  I was pretty full after about 1/2 the ear, but I didn't know what to do with the rest!  I didn't want to throw it out--first of all, I couldn't do it because it was only half eaten and I would feel as if I were wasting food (but I didn't want to offer to a stranger!); secondly, even though there was garbage all around me, I just couldn't bring myself to toss it on the street.  So, I carried it with me.  Finally, while waiting for my taptap I slipped it into a side mesh pocket of my backpack meant for water bottles.  I actually carried it all the way back to the orphanage with me (along with the empty can of Coke because I couldn't litter with that either!)

Yesterday was my last day with horse therapy.  The kids did great!  Cade didn't need anyone to hold him on--he sat on the horse, just as proud as can be, with no attempts to throw himself off.  Christina can now ride with just a little support on one leg--she started without being able to sit up and needing someone to ride behind her.  Jean-Daniel sits up straight the whole time and even pushes his helmet back by himself so that he can see.  Rosaline is sitting up straighter for longer periods of time.  Her face lights up every Wednesday morning when it's time to go, and I love seeing how the trainers work with her and talk with her.  Milo is great with her.

Tonight's storm

More rain

We've been getting a lot of rain lately and not just during the night.  Yesterday and today it rained stormed around 5:00 p.m.  And I mean it STORMED.  Thunder, lightening, wind, rain.  Last night the wind blew so much many of the rooms flooded because the rain was coming in so much.  I won't necessarily miss the muddiness that follows rains here, but I will miss the intensity of the downpours.

"Haiti is advancing"

I took a couple more pictures on my walk down Delmas.  The Martelly signs have been showing up everywhere in the last week.  He's two years into his five-year term and does not hesitate to toot his own horn.  I would expect it if he could run for another term right away, but he can't.  In Haiti, a person can only serve two terms, but they cannot be back-to-back.  I find that interesting.  Maybe he's already preparing for the election in 2020!

 The picture of the food stand on the right I took because I pass it on my way down Delmas every time I go to print pictures.  It's somewhere around Delmas 85, I think, and I have always wanted to stop and get something.  I don't, however, because I'm not sure how my stomach would react.  It's obviously a large operation and well established based on the size and the number of customers I usually see at it.  The first time I saw it I thought it was a "soup kitchen" because of its size.  I've never seen a "soup kitchen" here before, so I guess it's a for-profit business.  I just like it.  Who knows?  Maybe on another trip I'll stop in and buy some lunch.

Being Serious

If you read the blog about my trip to Gertrude's home village, I hope you heard some humor thrown in with the events that tried my patience.  I do want to take a moment to reflect on some of the serious moments and thoughts that I had.

I wrote the following sentence in the previous blog: "mob of greedy, needy, pushy, people."  I'm not proud of those words, but it's what I felt at the time.  I wanted the people to line up and be polite.  I wanted them to wait their turn and listen to me.  I felt bad for Rhonda (and me) because I wanted her to be able to get some good pictures of thankful people to take back to her mother and the group of women who lovingly made the dresses.  I was angry at Gertrude and the priest for not helping us out.

In my anger I took away a gift that wasn't mine to take away.  Pretty pathetic.

 In my head, I can say I understand why the Haitians acted the way they did: "they are extremely poor, they don't have much and they don't know when they will get anything, if they wait they won't get anything so they have to be pushy, they are desperate."  In my heart, though, I don't truly understand.  That pushiness, that "in-your-face-I'm-going-to-get-what-I-can" neediness turns me off.  I want them to contain their neediness to acceptable levels (as determined by me, of course).

I tend (I think . . . I hope) to not ask for what I need, much less what I want.  I tend (I think . . . I hope) to hang back, thinking that patience will bring me through in the end.  And even when I stand firm and demand, I tend (I think . . . I hope) to do so with a quiet, firm voice.  I don't shout, push, and get in people's faces (I think . . . I hope).

You see, I can intellectualize the situation, but I can't truly understand it.  I have never . . . NOT ONCE . . . lived in want.  I have never known what it is like to not know where my next meal is coming from.  I have never feared that my child would die due to starvation, disease, or illness.  Because I have never experienced those things, I can't know how/why Haitians act the way they do.

I have lived a life of luxury and comfort my entire life.  I live with the privilege of knowing that no matter what, not matter where I am in the world, I have a passport that lets me into the richest country in the world. I can escape anytime.  Haitians, and others who live in this type of poverty, don't have that escape.  Their reality is here with all its hardships, flaws, hopes, and fears.

When a gift is given, it should be given with no strings attached, no requirements on demonstrating thanks, no certain behaviors expected.  I forgot that when I took the dresses and walked away.  I attached expectations to the gift, making it no longer a gift.

I missed an opportunity to walk with the people of Damassin on their journey for that one day.  Instead of making it a joyful distribution of a gift made with love, I made it about my expectations.

I pray God gives me a chance to learn from this and do it better next time.

On the road . . . halfway to Les Cayes . . . Puke, Pee, Pain, and a Pig

          Okay, I know I haven’t blogged in awhile, but it’s not because nothing has happened.  It’s because SO much has happened that I have needed the time to recover and process.

            So, “sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip.  It started from Port-au-Prince, in this tiny little `truck packed to the hilt with people and stuff that had to drive forever on what was supposed to be a four hour trip but really was eight hours.’”

            The beginning wasn't bad, except that we left two hours late.  Of course, that’s pretty much on time in Haiti.  We made it through Carrefour just fine.  Then we hit road construction traffic delays.  You think road construction is bad in the U.S.?  Try it in Haiti.  Horrible.  That slowed us down by about 90 minutes.  Even with that delay, I still thought we’d be to Gertrude’s home village at a decent hour.  We left at 3:45 . . . four hour trip . . . 90 minute delay . . . we should arrive by 9:30.  Yea, right.

Before reality sets in

The views are gorgeous

            During the traffic jam my legs started bothering me: the restless leg twitching started in, and I finally told Gertrude I had to sit in the back to stretch my legs and take some of the my medicine.  Rhonda happily joined me.  Now, the back of the truck was filled with an empty cooler; a large, empty trashcan; various food items; and a handful of suitcases.  Rhonda and I sat on TOP of all this.  We were sitting up so high that we could look out over the cap of the truck.  I could stretch my legs out, which was good, but I had to ride sitting somewhat backwards which wasn't the greatest for my stomach.  We rode up there for about two hours and then decided to head back in because it was getting dark.  Now mind you, by this time we’d been on the road for just over four hours.  We’re thinking maybe two hours to go.  Wrong.

            We settle back into our seats in the backseat with Roberto, and I ask, “Where abouts are we?”

            “About halfway to Les Cayes,” Gertrude answered.  Both Rhonda and I stared at each other.  Half way to Les Cayes???  That meant about 2 ½ hours to Les Cayes and another  1 ½ hours from there to Damassin.  I thought I was going to go stark raving mad.  It’s now 8:00 p.m., and we haven’t had anything to eat since 11:30.  The twisting, winding roads coupled with Sony’s erratic driving around the curves had my stomach all out of whack.  Finally I couldn't take it any more.  I leaned forward, “Gertrude, I feel sick.  I think I’m going to throw up.”

            “What was that?” Gertrude asked.

            “Please have Sony pull over.  I think I’m going to vom—.”  I clenched my jaw together.

            Rhonda shouted, “Sony! Stop now.”  She had the door open and was out before the truck stopped.  I leapt out just in time to puke over the railing of the bridge.  Three times.  Pulled over to the side of the road, on a bridge, in the dark, on a Haitian road in the mountains is not my idea of safe or fun.  Of course, Roberto thinks this is all funny and laughs.  While I’m hanging over the railing, Gertrude tosses water into my face, hitting me square in my open eyes.  She said, “This is how we do it in Haiti,” and proceeded to toss more water in my face.  I didn't think it could get any worse until Rhonda announced that she had to pee.  That was my bladder’s cue to wake up.  Now I had to pee.  On the side of a dark Haitian road with Gertrude, Sony, and Roberto sort of watching.  Talk about embarrassing!  And we still weren't to Les Cayes!

            I can honestly say that the rest of the trip TO Damassin wasn’t too bad.  Until we pulled into the driveway of the house.  We pulled up to what can be best described as a cement hut topped with rusty tin.  No lights.  Rhonda and I looked at each other like “No.  Please no.  Don’t make us sleep here.”

            We didn't.  I turned around in my seat and saw a real house with lights.  Thank God.  It was now 11:30.  Our four-hour trip had turned into an eight-hour trip.

Across the road from Gertrude's house

            The morning dawned bright and beautiful—sun, blue skies, ocean view.  Okay.  This was looking up.  Rhonda and I walked on the beach, took some pictures, and then went back to the house to meet up with Gertrude before heading over to the priest’s house for breakfast. 

Men at work

Ocean-front property

            We were in the village to take pictures of some of the kids to send to the Foundation for Peace which is starting a sponsorship program to send Haitian kids to school.  Gertrude’s home village is very poor, so we thought we’d profile some of the kids there.  Now, the Foundation of Peace wants to start small with this sponsorship program, so I’m thinking we’ll profile maybe 30 kids.  No.  The priest explains that there are about 150 kids that he wants us to take pictures of.  And it’s flag day, so we can’t start until after mass and after the parade, which means we don’t start until about 10:30-10:45.  While we’re waiting, I develop a pain.  A bad pain.  See, I can get these muscle spasms in a part of my body that doesn't allow the spasm to be rubbed out.  Really, nothing helps except for me to ride out the pain.  Sometimes the pain is so bad I pass out.  I shout stage whisper to Rhonda that I need a bathroom.  A look of slight panic crosses her face when she sees the pain I’m in.  Gertrude comes out, and I explain to her that I need a bathroom.  As she leads me up stairs (two flights) I explain that sometimes I pass out from this.  Shoulda mentioned that earlier. 

Handmade canoe

            I don’t pass out.  I live.  We start the photo taking, and about 60 kids in my camera runs out of batteries (I hadn't planned on taking hours of photos!).  Rhonda steps in with her iPad, and we are able to finish pretty efficiently.  Turns out it only took about two hours to do.  We head back to Gertrude’s place, eat lunch, and give some dresses to the priest to distribute to needy members of the parish.  Instead of the priest doing this at a later time, one-on-one with a parent, he invites the town over to the front porch.  Suddenly, Rhonda and I are in the midst of a throng of Haitians grabbing at us and the dresses.  It was horrible chaos.  And, the priest didn't step in to help.  Nor did Gertrude.  Two “blancs,” only one of whom spoke a smidge of Creole tried to organize this mob of greedy, needy, pushy, people.  I finally had enough.  The dresses were almost gone, and I was tired of being pushed, poked, and prodded. 

One of our new friends . . . she got a dress!

            I announced, “We’re done.  No more.”

            I packed up the suitcase, and Rhonda and I went inside.  And the crowd followed!  The folks who lived in the house didn't seem phased by all this.  I wanted someone who spoke Creole to step up and say it’s over.  Gertrude did just that, but the crowd still didn't leave!  Seriously, it took a good 20 minutes to get them out of the house, but then they just waited on the porch. 

            By this time (2:00) it looked as if we might actually be able to pack up and get on the road so that we could get home at a decent hour.  Silly me. 

Pig . . . need I say more??

            Gertrude had had her uncle slaughter a pig that morning for her to take back with us to PAP.  That job was pretty much done, but pig parts had to be distributed to folks in the village along with most of the rice she had brought along.  I watched as chunks of freshly slaughtered pig were dumped into the garbage can we had brought while others were handed out to other people.  Like, a hunk of pig fat went to one woman, who promptly gave it to her daughter to take home.  No wrapping.  No nothing.  Just hunks of pig changing hands.  I just about lost it when someone brought in a pan of pig innards and the kids started eating them.  I watched wide-eyed as kids and then adults popped morsels into their mouths.  Thank God Rhonda shared with me a couple minutes later that it was COOKED pig innards.  

            Once the rest of the pig was safely packed into the garbage can, the loading of the truck began:

            **one garbage can full of pig on ice

            **four big bags of charcoal

            **one large stem of plantains

            **one cooler filled with . . . I don’t know what

            **various amounts of bananas, mangos, and pineapples

            **three suitcases

            **random other things that I can’t remember

And then they brought out the grill.  They seriously thought they could fit the grill somewhere in the back.  And, we were coming back with SEVEN people instead of the original five.  I started to panic, as did Rhonda.  Thankfully they decided that the grill wouldn't fit, and they took out one bag of charcoal.  They then took a dirty tarp and threw it over the stuff to keep it all in.  Rhonda and I then declared that we were riding in the back of the truck on top of everything.  The Haitians looked at us as if we were crazy, but we wanted fresh air for as long as we could get it.

Manioc stop

            We took off about 3:15, neither one of us looking forward to the EIGHT hour trip home.  We spent four hours in the back roasting in the sun; having our hair tied in knots by the wind; dirt and coal covering our hands, legs, face, inner ears; holding on for dear life as Sony raced up and down the mountain roads.  We did stop a couple of times to buy more fruit and some maniac branches that Gertrude wanted to plant.  Yes, all that stuff joined us in the back!  We also stopped once to buy water and once to buy Prestige.  Thank God.

Dirty and windblown

            Of course, every time we stopped we could smell the pig on ice.

            About two hours from home the rain came along with a “blokis.”  The rain did us in . . . for a bit.  We crawled into the truck . . . me in the front seat so that my legs wouldn’t be bothered, Rhonda in the back seat with three men and Gertrude.  Not comfortable!  Two of the men only lasted 30 minutes before insisting on riding in the back . . . they couldn’t take five in the backseat any more.  Not that I blame them. 

            What a trip  . . . .  it was rough.  I’ve just given you the facts, but I can’t find the words to convey the discomfort, the disbelief, and my dumbfoundedness about the whole thing.  

Out and About

New Life church

Today was long in a good way.  We started out by looking for New Life Children's Home which is an orphanage and guesthouse not far from us.  The wife of one of the police officer's that Rhonda worked with will be staying there next week.  We had thought their visits would over lap, but flight changes nixed that idea.

Rhonda waiting outside the guesthouse

We went to check out the place and see what it was like.  It's very easy to get to from here, and the motorcycle ride went quickly.  The place is great.  Huge piece of property, beautiful guesthouse with lots of American amenities, power 24/7 (nice), and wonderful facilities for the kids.  I was really impressed with what they are doing.  The woman who runs it has been working in Haiti for 35 years, and she has thoughtfully and purposefully built programs.  As nice as the place is, it was reassuring that they were wrestling with some of the same questions that I am:  what is the best way to educate children with special needs, how does one provide for adequate physical therapy, and what to do as the special-needs children age and need an adult placement facility.  Even though they didn't have answers, I am glad that someone else is asking the same questions.

New Life building

New Life Children's Home is in the process of digging a new well.  By hand.  Check out the short video and see whether you would like to do that work!  The men are standing on the "hole digger" because it helps to have extra weight on it when they hit rocky parts.

We decided to walk most of the way back.  After the HUGE rains from last night, the walk was muddy, but the air was much less humid.  Even so, we worked up quite a sweat.

We took a quick break for some lunch and cooling off before heading back out to the Apparent Project.  It's this great gift shop place up on Delmas 75 whose employees keep much of the profits for themselves so that they can send their children to school.  I love the philosophy behind it's approach to addressing the "orphan crisis" in Haiti.  If you want to know more about what the Apparent Project does, check out its website: http://www.apparentproject.org.

We took moto taxis from Delmas 75 to the Apparent Project, and that was our plan for the return trip.  Unfortunately, no moto taxis were waiting outside for us!  We walked for a bit, thinking it would be easy to find some motorcycle drivers.  Not the case.  We walked for about 20 minutes, backtracking our way out.  Too bad we took a right instead of a left.  We ended up not going in the right direction.  I wasn't too worried (Rhonda was a bit uncomfortable), but we decided it was best to turn around and head back toward the Apparent Project and begin again.

Soon after we turned back two moto taxis happened by.  I flagged them down, but only one stopped.  We decided to both take it so that we would get "unlost" as quickly as possible.  I seriously thought the motorcycle was going to die on us.  It huffed and puffed its way up hills and over ravines (not kidding . . . some of the "roads" were more like rough 4-wheeling trails!).

The last video is of the road construction going on near the orphanage.  They are making great progress and doing most of it without the equipment that American road crews have at their disposal.  Haitian safety protocols aren't exactly like they are in the States.  Check out how close we (and others) get to the big equipment while it's being used!


The construction video won't upload . . . I'm going to see if it will upload on its own blog.

Adventure

           What a day of high adventure!  After lunch we headed out to the Sugar Cane Museum . . . ON THE MOTORCYCLE!  Can you tell I was excited?  I kept giving Rhonda a choice—do you want to take taptaps or the motorcycle.  Her only response was “I don’t care.”  What a liar!  She did not want to the motorcycle; she just wouldn't say it.  She was scared the whole time!  That surprised me because she’s a retired cop who drives a Harley herself back in the States.  We did just fine.

            The adventure began right away when we turned left near Goat Alley.  Rhonda says, “Is that a dead body?”

            “Where?” I ask.

            “Right there,” she points (actually, I assumed she pointed because she was sitting behind me on the motorcycle, and I couldn't really see whether she pointed).  I looked ahead to where the little bar is.

            “I don’t think so,” I answer.  We drove closer.  It was a dead body.  Just lying there in the middle of the road. As we drove passed it (slowly because I was concentrating on not stalling), we got a good look at it.  We went around the block to head back to the guesthouse, and Rhonda was sort of freaking out (retired cop, remember?). 

            “You didn't take a picture of it, did you?”  I asked.

            “Yes,” came the response.

            I sort of lost it there with some words that I can’t put down here.  Back at the orphanage we asked Muset if he knew.  His answer?  “Wi, polis la te tire li ye soir” (Yes, the police shot him last night).

            “Why?” we wanted to know.

            “Pa konnen” (I don’t know).  He said it was safe to go out, so we headed back by the body and out onto the open road.

Sugar cane song

Amongst the cane

            Our destination was the Sugar Cane Museum near the American Embassy on Tabarre.  I did a great job driving!  Rhonda was a great coach from the back seat.  I don’t think she ever really relaxed, though.  Especially when the sirens went off in the vehicle behind us.  I could see in the rear-view mirror that it was a U.N. vehicle, not the police, so I wasn't too worried.  Rhonda, however, didn't know that, so she was a bit more nervous. 

            The very nice U.N. soldier wanted to make sure that we didn't work for the U.N. minstrie because they tell their people not to be out too much on their own.  Really?  They pulled us over pretty much because we were white women. 

Ford tractor in PAP

            The “museum” was more of a park.  We walked around and took some pictures and then had a drink at the bar.  It’s a nice place to go for lunch, and I would highly recommend it because it’s easy to get to.  I was hoping it would be a place to take the kids on a field trip, but it’s not really that type of place.  I could see taking 2-3 kids at a time so that they can practice eating out, but that’s about it. 

Water wheel

            The ride back was very uneventful.  We had to squeeze through some tight traffic at one point (Rhonda says that her elbow bumped the mirror on a truck we were passing at about 1 mile per hour, but I don’t believe her), but it was an easy trip back.  No being pulled over.  No more dead body.

Rhum distillery

            All in all, I was pleased with my driving.  Tomorrow we’re supposed to head out to mass burial memorial for the victims of the earthquake.  I plan on taking the motorcycle.  Don’t know yet whether Rhonda is up for another ride!

Iron Market

Downtown PAP, near Iron Market

This morning was water therapy, but the main attraction of the day was our visit to the Iron Market in downtown PAP.  Think of every touristy type shopping area in any part of the world, you've pictured the Iron Market accurately.  Every vendor sells pretty much the same thing, for pretty much the same price.  But, I still like it.

Iron Market is in the back

I had Roberto come with us because I've heard that there can be some gangs in that area and because I thought it would be good to have a Haitian with us to run interference if we needed it.  The moment we stepped in, vendors wanted us to come to their stalls.  One guy who spoke decent English took us around.  The best part was the back--the voodoo section.  The dolls and statues and other . . . stuff was pretty gross looking.  Rhonda bought a voodoo bottle of some sort, but I just looked.

I knew what I was looking for--a gift for my neighbor Steve-O--so I wasn't side tracked by too much.  We both decided to buy hats.  I may not look an official Haitian, but I at least look like I'm in the Caribbean!

Voodoo dolls

More voodoo dolls

Rhonda enjoys the view from the back

After the Iron Market we headed up Delmas to Star 2000 again.  I don't know what Sony and Roberto needed to get, but Rhonda and I grabbed a couple of Prestige for the ride back--we had to stop and get the kids from Christian Adoration and then head back to the orphanage.  We decided to ride in the back of the truck so that we could have some fresh area, relatively speaking.  I always prefer riding in the back because I get less car sick there than in the back seat--too much stop-and-go traffic.

Goats

We also took Olgiue and Maryse out for a walk later this afternoon.  I love it that Rhonda is always looking for the kids who don't get much other attention--those are the kids that she picks to focus on.  Olgiue loved the walk!  She took everything in--walking slowly, smiling.  It was cool to see.

On our walk we saw some industrious goats climbing up onto the top of a parked broken-down van so that they could nibble on the leaves.

Rhonda isn't the only one who's been working hard.  Check out the men doing the road work.  Now that's working hard.

More men at work

Men at work

Working Hard

Helping with homework

Rhonda has been hard at work since her arrival on Friday night.  She's jumped right in to helping with the kids.  She's even taken the time to help Rosie, Gertrude's daughter, with her homework!

Cade and Rhonda walking

Sunday afternoon Rhonda asked about taking some of the kids for walks.  She wanted to know whether Cade would be okay.  I wasn't sure.  I've thought about taking him before, but I haven't because I wasn't sure how he would react and I didn't know whether I could handle him if he reacted badly.  We also decided to take Maxo so that he had to look more to see where he was going.  I thought it could fall under some of his "vision therapy."  Cade was great!  He was quiet except for the occasional "Whoo!"  He constantly turned his head to try to take in everything.  I think it was good for him.

Cade and me relaxing

Maxo, too, did well.  He tripped a lot at the start because he wasn't looking at the ground and he shuffled his feet.  He eventually figured out that he had to look at the ground to avoid the rocks, and he started picking up his feet instead of shuffling.

Great ideas, Rhonda!

The down side of taking Cade out for a walk is that he was so disappointed to be back that we had to sit with him for quite awhile afterward.  He didn't want it to be over.  He cried and banged his head until I sat with him for on the mats.  He just wanted to keep getting some attention.

After doing therapy with the kids all morning, we had to run up to the Star 2000 to get some things.  On our way back we stopped at the Rebo Cafe which is this cool coffee shop just behind the DHL building.  For any of you who come to PAP, I highly recommend that you stop in and support this business.  They are going to sell some things for Gertrude, so I want to send business their way for helping her out.

Relaxing, cooling off

Hard at work . . . napping

Rhonda also took on babysitting duties with Alvarez.  The poor little guy still isn't feeling the greatest, and some times he just needs a quiet place to be.  Rhonda brought him up to our room so that he could rest and lay under the cool fans.  They both eventually fell asleep for a good nap!

Phonsley in the stander

Snack Time!

The kids continue to make progress.  If you look at the pictures of Phonsley, you see him trying to stand himself up . . . or maybe crawl.  He also kind of looks like he's doing the "downward facing dog" pose.  No matter what, he's motivated to move and do new things.  We also worked with him on feeding himself.  We used the Cheerios that Rhonda bought as part of our therapy.  He's getting better at picking up pieces of food and getting them into his mouth.  Jean-Daniel is getting better, too.

"Downward facing dog"