Rebekah and I awoke once again to the burning heat of the Haiti sun. The wind’s persistence was waning, and though it still beat strong, its enthusiasm had disappeared with the clouds. Blue sky and sunshine above, we walked down to the lower end of the compound to the construction area. The snarls of the saws and growls of the drills filled the sawdusty air as we entered the building tent. We began to load the trussets we had made the day before, bags of concrete, shovels, and different equipment into the back of a large truck. Along with the equipment, we climbed into the back of the truck and found a seat on an old tire, abandoned in the back. With every jump and jolt, we’d leap into the air and then crash back down onto the floor. The back door stayed open and we waved to the townspeople as we passed.

We drove to a nearby Samaritan’s Purse shelter site, symmetrical rows of blue homes flying past as we drove by. Children followed behind us screaming when they saw our white skin, especially excited to see us two girls. A large crowd gathered when we stopped at an empty square of dirt and began to unload the truck. I think many of the Haitians were shocked to see Rebekah and me unloading equipment and helping the workers. A stake in each hand, we measured out the area for the recreational center we were building, precisely calculating each measurement for hours. The sun was rising in the sky, beating down upon our skin. A crowd of children began to invade our working area so Rebekah and I were sent to play with them and distract them. We taught them some dance moves and gymnastic tricks while we waited for the boys to finish the measuring. Eventually they finished around lunch time and detaching ourselves from the children clinging to us, we walked to the construction shelter site nearby for some food. Here, there are naked shelters, containing only the frame but no tarp covering or roof. Lunch lasted for about thirty minutes and then we returned to the camp, greeted by even more children than before. We sat with them in the shade, three or four trying to climb into our laps while the others flocked around, fighting each other for the chance to hold one of our hands or arms. Meanwhile the men had mixed some concrete and begun to pour it into the ground, placing one of the supporting beams. Another organization arrived at the camp, and stole away the children’s attention for a kid’s club activity, giving us the freedom to help with the shelter. Rebekah and I helped measure the exact location of where the beam needed to lay, and then held it there while we waited for the men to pour the concrete. Standing under the sun, my skin began to turn lobster red, and Rebekah scolded me for not wearing any sunscreen. I told her she was just jealous that I was going to return home as a golden goddess. But as we continued to work in the hot sun, my skin felt like it was on fire and I knew I would regret my decision to forgo the sunscreen.

The other organization had finished their kid’s club and a mass of children came running back to us, multiplied in numbers than the last time. One girl permanently attached herself to my side, placing her arm around my waist and slapping the hands of the other children if they came near. Another little boy clung to Rebekah’s hand, squeezing her fingers and refusing to let go or loosen his grip. Older children began to return from school and they would point to our headbands or bracelets and say “Give me, give me.” To avoid causing jealously we do not give away our belongings to the children so we shook our heads no. A few were persistent and would respond with “Yes!!” One even tried to break our bracelets off our wrists. Another group of older children found great amusement in giving me the middle finger, laughing hysterically at my shocked reaction. Shouting and screaming and pushing at us from every side, we began to feel extremely overwhelmed. Then to add to the chaos, a little boy tripped and fell directly on his face. He got up and began sobbing, which quickly turned into shrill screams as blood gushed out of his mouth. With no medical team on the field with us, Rebekah and I panicked, the hysteria of the child and rowdiness of rest adding to our confusion. One of the men grabbed a cup of Gatorade and we had him spit out the blood while he was escorted, whimpering back to his tent. This excitement over, the children once again began attacking us at all sides. Rebekah and I stood in the middle of them completely helpless, smiling as we could not understand what they would say to us. Ten kids crowded around me and began to touch my back and arms, marveling at my skin’s sunburnt reaction. Every time the red skin would turn to white when they touched it they’d shout and laugh excitedly.

The men had not yet finished setting all of their beams into the ground, but they must have detected our distress and called the truck to bring us back to the compound. As I opened the door to the truck and was about to step in, one boy grabbed my wrists and pulled me down, dragging me back towards the camp. Other hands grabbed my arms, some to restrain me and others to try and help release me. I finally fought him off and jumped into the car and slammed the door shut as quickly as possible and we backed out of the camp. Children ran along side of the car waving as we passed. Rebekah and I were so relieved to sit freely in the nice, air-conditioned car. Sometimes it is hard to love these children, as they are so desperate for your affection that they stampede you to death. The sweet ones are easy to love and hug, but some of the bolder, rasher children are more difficult. We found ourselves feeling guilty that we had been so eager to leave the campsite, but we were still glad for the six hours we got to spend with them.

Covered in dirt from head to toe and burnt to a crisp, we returned exhausted to the campsite where we crashed for a few minutes before dinnertime. Dinner was a celebration in honor of our cook who was leaving the next day, and we all enjoyed steak and mango cobbler. We were also celebrating the arrival of a little boy that afternoon onto our compound. He had been seen the past few weeks wandering outside the fence and the guards had been giving him food and water. They found out that this little boy had been abandoned at birth and found by a woman who was now using him as a slave to care for her goats. Tracking him down, they found him and took him from her custody. In the morning they will go to court where the judge will decide his fate, whether he returns to his “home” or is brought to a Christian orphanage. The first thing we noticed about the little boy was his adorable little round face, with big eyes and a radiant smile. The next thing that immediately struck me was his arms. In extreme contrast to his thin, bony wrists, his arms were abnormally strong and muscular for a child his age, his biceps bulging out from his arms, the result of his hard work in slavery. I walked up to introduce myself to him and he responded by throwing his arms around my waist and squeezing me in a big, loving hug. We walked down to the soccer field where people played with him. A smile permanently etched on his face, he ran around giggling, kicking the soccer ball from one person to another.

After it was time for him to go to bed, we met with our friends in the staff lounge where we played games of bananagrams and ninja assassins for the next couple hours. Tomorrow is Saturday and our time here in Haiti and with our new friends is drawing near, and I almost dread returning home. I am afraid to forget the lessons I have learned here, and that I will change back into the person I was before, self-absorbed in a materialistic world. Haiti has changed me, and I hope to never be the same again.

With love from Haiti…