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…

ANIMAL RESCUER!!

This morning we decided once again to visit the Salem Orphanage in Bonrebos. The night before we had planned a lesson to teach them, and we needed to go to the market to purchase some notebook and pens for them. My mom and our translator, Gilbert, went into the market together to find some vendors to buy them from, while Rebekah and I waited in the car. They brought back about 30 notebooks and pens, as well as some pencils, erasers, and chalk for the teacher. 

As we stepped into the courtyard of the orphanage, the air was filled with the sweet voices of the children singing one of the songs we had taught them. One of the women who lives and works at the orphanage came up to us and embraced us each with a kiss on the cheek. Little arms were grabbing our waists and small hands were grabbing our hands. We arranged some benches onto the class room floor and the teacher handed out the notebooks to little eager hands. We stood before the class and my mom opened her Bible and began reading from the beginning, teaching them the creation story. As she explained what God created on each day, I would write it down on the board in English and Gilbert would write it in Creole. Thirty little hands copied it down on the crisp new pages of their books in concentrated silence. After they had copied down everything into their books, we acted out a skit about Adam and Eve. Placing a hat on my head and tying my braids across my face as a mustache, I strutted into the classroom as Adam, serenaded by the giggles of the children. 

When we had finished our Bible story, they brought out the frisbees and toys we had brought them before and we all began playing together. Two little puppies ran around to the front yard from the back, each no bigger than a foot long. My dad had cautioned us to not play with the dogs before we left, but they were so playful and sweet I couldn’t resist. Tumbling and rolling on the ground and through the plants, the little puppies yipped happily as I stroked their little stomachs, ears, and backs. Rebekah and my mom weren’t thrilled with the idea that I might possibly contract rabies so they urged me to stop playing with the dogs and focus on the children. I gathered some of the chalk we had brought, and the girls and I began to draw on the chalkboard. Soon a large crowd gathered around and I felt the weight of ten little hands and arms around my body. The children would call out different objects or animals for me to draw in Creole, making the animal sounds so I could understand them. As I drew, the children would be completely silent, until I finished and then they would errupt into a fit of giggles. Their favorite was an extremely flattering portrait I drew of Rebekah ;). 

The little girl Nelly we had visited at the hospital had returned to the orphanage and is recovering well. As I drew Rebekah and my mother sat with her and some other children, talking to them and learning some new Creole phrases. After we had finished drawing one girl brought out the jump rope we had brought them, and they taught me some tricks on the jump rope. The wind had been blowing stronger and soon raindrops began to fall. We said a sad goodbye to the children there, not knowing if we will return before we must leave. The little girl I was holding began crying when I put her on the ground and clung to my skirt. She began screaming as one of the older girls gently took her hands and brought her away. Hugging the children goodbye, they’d whisper “I love you” in my ear and squeeze my hands. As we stepped outside the gate I turned my head to look one last time at the crumbling concrete building where the precious children all stood, waving and calling out their farewells. 

When we arrived back at the compound, we went down to the construction area where they build shelters and make different parts for buildings. Rebekah and I are helping build a community center for one of the IDP camps over the next few days, and we decided to do some manual labor to help out. Also down at the construction site, was our friend with his monsterous “pet” tarantula he had caught. We hadn’t seen it yet, and the big sign he placed over the bucket lid where he kept it that read “Don’t Open!! You Will Die!!” did not bring me much comfort. I screamed and ran away as soon as I saw the terrifying thing. Literally as big as my face, the tarantula sat on the bottom of the bucket, hairy and muscular with enormous, menacing pinchers. The Haitian workers nearby were laughing at me as I bounced nervously around shrieking everytime it moved. Placing the lid back on I sprinted away from the site and headed to work. When we arrived at the tent where we would be helping the Haitians make trussets, (spelling? I honestly have no idea what these things are) they laughed at the thought of us two girls helping them. But they handed us two drill guns and some nails and we attempted to drill the wood beams together. At first, we were having some issues but by the end the Haitians were telling us “Good, good!” and we could drill the nails in like pros. 

By the time we finished it was almost dinner time, so we back up to the main area of the compound. On our way we met our friend who has the tarantula, John, and he told us that he had caught a little snake to feed it. I demanded to see it and he brought out a waterbottle with a teeny tiny little snake inside. At first I thought it was an earthworm but as I looked closely I saw its miniature scales and beady black eyes. Grabbing the bottle away I demanded that it be set loose. John wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, so I ran away and hid the snake in my bed during dinner. After dinner I got my little snakey poo (as I named him) and brought him outside. A large group had gathered and John brought out the tarantula. With the help of my dad and some others we convinced him that the tarantula would not in fact eat the snake, and to replace it we would find some bugs for food. I quickly had a releasing of the snake ceremony then Rebekah and I went to find some cockroaches in the ladies bathroom. We hit the jackpot in the first stall we looked in with two giant cockroaches and one miniature one. Bringing them back to John, he placed them in Dexter’s (the tarantula has a name...) bucket along with a moth which he attacked. We’ll see in the morning if they cockroaches are still there. 

With love from Haiti...

(I have no idea what to title this)

As we stepped sleepily out of our dorm room this morning, a sight met our eyes that quickly woke us up. Seven new trucks that had been shipped in for use here were sitting by the soccer field, two of them totaled, and the others slightly damaged. Apparently the night before the Haitian drivers were driving them back from the port, some of the drivers without liscenses, and they had gotten into an accident. They are still sitting out there now and we're not sure what is going to happen with them.

Immediately after breakfast this morning we drove to a nearby IDP camp with the mobile clinic. When we arrived, the children once again ran up to us, greeting us with shy "bonjour"s and shaking our hands. Once they saw our smiling responses they grew more confident and would grab or hands and talk excitedly in Creole. The nurses set up two large tents with tables and a medicine section. Rebekah and I had brought some frisbees and a soccer ball and we played with the children while they waited to visit the nurses. One little boy attached himself to Rebekah and demanded to be held. When she tried to put him down he would place all his weight on her arms until she picked him up again. Another little girl came to me and clung to my arms and would slap the other children's hands away if they tried to grab mine. She kept begging me to pick her up, so I picked her up, spinning her in circles as she giggled with delight.

Children would come home in shifts from school, and we saw some children that we had seen two days before at the school we visited. Rebekah went to play soccer with some of the boys and I stayed around in a circle with some of the younger girls twirling and dancing with them. The sun was starting to peek through the clouds and Rebekah and I needed a water break so we retreated to the refuge of the nurses tent. Once inside we helped them count some pills and sort them into little bags. The nurses had brought a bag of silly bandz and balloons and we helped them give them out to the children.

Eventually we emerged from the shelter of the tent back to the energetic children. Rebekah found two young children and sat with them on their lap while I found a group of girls who taught me how to play some hand games with them. I'm starting to learn some of the words to the movements because we repeated the same games over and over and over. As more children came home from school we got a large group game started. One of their favorite games is one where a large circle of children links hands and chants the lyrics to a song as one child stands alone in the middle. When they get to a certain part in the song, the person in the middle walks over to a child standing on the outer edge and they do a little dance together. The excited voices of the children got the attention of the people in the surrounding tents and soon a large crowd of parents and grandparents were standing around watching us. I got chosen quite frequently to go into the middle, and everytime I got chosen all of the people would yell with excitement. But their excited yells turned into screams of delight when I began to shake my hips for the dancing part. I'm not sure if thats because I'm American and don't know how to dance half as well as those little children, or just because they were enjoying the moment. Whatever the reason, I had alot of fun laughing and dancing with the children, although it was a humbling experience to have little 5-year-old Haitian children out dance me.

After six hours of playing with the children at the camp, we finally arrived back at the compound. Rebekah hadn't been feeling well that morning so she laid down to rest, while my mom and I sorted pills together. She had been sorting pills all day and had organized over 5,000 pills!! The rest of the afternoon was once again pretty uneventful except for our nightly game of ultimate frisbee which my mom decided to join in on. Way to go mom! Tomorrow we are hoping to once again visit "our" orphanage, the Salem orphanage we visited first in Bonrebos. Thank you again for all your prayers, love, and support; it means the world to us.

With love from Haiti...

Baking Brownies with Bobby

This morning Rebekah and I woke up early to say goodbye to three of our friends who were leaving, two for a short vacation time and the other to return to the States. It was a sad goodbye, as we do not know when or if we will ever see them , but hopefully our paths will cross once again. After they pulled out of the compound, Rebekah and I went for an early morning run until it was time for breakfast and devotions. The devotions were extremely intimate and special this morning, consisting of two short songs and a time of prayer..It was such a powerful moment and wonderful experience to be a part of, for God was truly moving among us.

From devotions Rebekah and I went into the kitchen and began baking brownies with Bobby, one of the cooks here. Sixteen eggs, two bottles of oil, and eight packages of brownie mix later, we had a huge pan of delicious brownies baking in the oven for dinner. We then drove into Cite Soleil to observe a school that teaches women practical life tools. There were different classes such as one for learning English, developing literacy, medical skills, tailoring, embroidery, and cosmetology. Educated Haitian women teach other ladies of all ages a specific class for either three or six months. Although no where near as dangerous as before, Cite Soleil is still rather dangerous and the opportunity for these women to learn some important skills is invaluable.

While we had been baking and visiting the women's program, my mother had left with the mobile clinic to visit a church. Everyday a team of medical people travel to a different camp, orphanage, school, or church to give care and medicine to the people there. My mom played with some children and talked to the adults as well as helping out the medical team by counting and sorting pills. She also played photographer for them as they worked.

The rest of the day was pretty low-key, and we all just stayed on the compound either resting, spending time on our computers, or walking around. The meteorologists say that we are in a tropical depression and as some of you have expressed your concern for our safetly, I assure you we are completely fine. It is actually quite an enjoyable break from the harsh sun and constant sweating. The mild temperature, overcast skies, and strong breeze are quite welcomed here. One of our friends apparently caught Iwith his bare hands) a giant tarantula, "bigger than he's ever seen" before. I haven't gotten a picture yet because I'm too frightened to go look. Apparently they can jump up to three feet, but I'm not sure if this is one of those things the boys tell me to scare me or not. I've learned quickly not to believe EVERYTHING they tell me here, especially about the tarantulas ;)

With love from Haiti...

"Oui, prends tout Seigneur"

"All to Jesus, I surrender,
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with thy love and power,
Let thy blessing fall on me.
I surrender all, I surrender all;
All to Thee, my blessed Saviour,
I surrender all
Oui, prends tout Seigneur."

This hymn seems to be the theme song of my trip to Haiti, as I continually find myself being stretched and called to surrender my own desires and insecurities and to live in God's will and grace. When we sang it during morning devotions, I knew that I needed to prepare my heart for what plans God had for me that day. I had a deep conviction that His plans for my day would be outside my comfort zone. And they were.

After devotions we were given the option of going to the Titanyen local public school. Our translator told us that this school would contain about 200 children of various ages. Immediately I felt a sinking in my stomach and anxiety spreading in my mind. We had nothing prepared to share with the children, no idea of what we were going to do, and they had no idea we were about to show up and interrupt their lessons. When we arrived, the children were split up into different classes, some sitting under the shade of a tree and others sitting in crumbling rooms. The principal of the school gathered all the children together and they sat under the shade of the tree as we introduced ourselves. We then proceeded to teach them two songs and my mom told them a Bible story. Everytime we visit a place like this, my mother amazes me with her ability to communicate to the children and give such encouraging words without any prior preparation. She is really amazing and so gifted as a leader.

When we were done talking to the children as a group, we were introduced to all the teachers and then returned to the school yard. Some children walked up to Rebekah and I and we started attempting to talk with them (the language barrier is a continual frustration) and playing hand games. One of the children led me to a few benches in the back where I sat and interacted with some of the older children while Rebekah stayed in the front with some of the younger ones. The children made room for me to sit on the bench with them and talked with me and laughed when I tried to pronounce things in Creole. One of the girls started playing with my hair so I took it out of the bun. When my hair fell down my shoulders all of the kids gasped in delight and she began to style it using headbands and clips some of the children had donated. The little girls I was sitting with had some foam stickers that they stuck onto my chest, one of a heart and the other a cross. Since these children were part of a public school and not an orphanage, they acted very different from the other ones. They taught us many hand games and group games, but some of them seemed a bit questionable and some of their gestures were a bit raunchy. But as a whole they were extremely loving children and we enjoyed spending time with them.

That afternoon Rebekah and I got an opportunity to ride in the Samaritan's Purse helicopter from our compound to another compound across the bay. It was a forty-minute trip total, and the view was incredible. Flying over the land was shocking, for the destruction of the earthquake was so evident compared to driving along the road. Some buildings were completely flatted, with the roof collapsed onto the ground. Others still had crumbling walls, a shadow of what had once been. While many remained only a pile of rubble and dust. Surrounding these areas were large fields of IDP camps with sheets and tents for homes. The beautiful Haitian countryside so sharply contrasts the devastation of its people.

Once again that evening, some of our friends here all gathered on the soccer field and we played ultimate frisbee for a few hours. Tomorrow will be the one week anniversary of our arrival and mark the one week time period of our departure. Time has gone by so slowly and so fast all at the same time, and I don't think I will be ready to leave. Life here is much harder, yet so much more rewarding and each moment we have left is precious.



With love from Haiti...

"I'm trading my sorrows...for the joy of the Lord"

My eyes fluttered open and I sleepily turned my head to look out the window from my bed. Sunlight and blue skies filtered in and I jumped up, immediately awake from my excitement. Rebekah and I quickly dressed and ran outside where we saw some of our other friends who joined us, rejoicing for the beautiful weather. Not a rain cloud in sight, we all piled into two large vans and set off on our waterfall adventure.

We drove out of our compound and immediately onto a rocky, dirt road. For almost an hour we wound through the mountains, passing small patches of houses here and there. When we would climb to the top of a mountain crest, the view was absolutely breathtaking. Behind us we could see the turquoise ocean stretched out on the horizon, and ahead luscious greenery and majestic hills. There was one large river we had to cross, and people were washing clothes while children were swimming in the water. Climbing the last mountain the road was so steep, I was afraid we would begin to slide backwards. The village that contained the waterfall was adorable, nestled in the mountains among the colorful flowers and trees. Their houses were painted in a variety of bright colors, and some with shapes painted on aswell. One house we passed had a white outline of a heart with the words "I love you" in the middle.

Once we arrived, we each paid one American dollar to enter a gate and follow a long flight of stairs down to the waterfall. First we heard the sound of rushing water, crashing on rocks below. Then we saw them, majestically framed against the deep green of the surrounding jungle. We climbed along the side of them until we reached the top. At first timid, we entered the falls, the rushing water swirling around our feet as we balanced on the rocks. A huge boulder dug into the side of the waterfall and we climbed up it and into a cave. We climbed to the opening at the top of the cave and stuck our head out into the middle of the waterfall. The water was so powerful and it beat down upon our backs with amazing strength. Rebekah, another friend of ours, and myself began to follow the waterfall down the mountain. We went down for quite awhile until we reached this area where the water became more peaceful. A bunch of banana trees stood in a cluster and streams from the waterfalls danced among them. Between the broad banana tree leaves, a scene of perfect wilderness was painted before us. Creation in its most perfect and pure state. I remember in that moment thinking, "I want to remember this forever. The sights, the smells, the sounds. The cool water trinkling over my feet, hiding in the shade of the banana trees. And the rushing water pouring from the heavens, attacking my body with all of its strength. I want to live in this moment forever."

From the waterfalls, we drove to an ocean resort in a more wealthy part of Haiti. The water was beautiful with the mountains creeping almost to the shore line and bright colored flowers speckling the shore. On one of the verandas there was a dance floor with a DJ playing popular music and another extending into the ocean with tables for eating. We walked to the eating veranda where we laid out our belongings. Some of us had brought snorkeling equipment and the boys convinced me to go with them to the reef even though I told them it looked like "shark weather". We jumped off the veranda into the water. It was so incredibly warm, as if we were jumping into a giant salty bath. The reef was right below us and we followed little fish around and occasionally swam down to the bottom to get a closer look. Since I was the only girl in the water at the time, and I'm a little wary when snorkeling because of my fear of sharks, the guys took full advantage of their opportunity to torment me by sneaking up and grabbing my flippers, laughing hysterically everytime I screamed. A storm had slowly crept across the skies and the water began to become choppy. Rain started sprinkling and thunder boomed in the sky, but we kept snorkeling until the first crashes of lightning began to fall.

Up on the veranda I sat with some of my new friends on the ledge. Feet hanging over the water, watching the storm, we sat enjoying fresh mangoes we had bought from road vendors on the way there. Since we do not get to hear music often at our compound, Rebekah and I took the opportunity to go and dance to the music. I taught her how to rumba and salsa and we danced together, much to the delight of the Haitian onlookers who laughed at us. We soon began to get sweaty from the dancing so I ran back to the eating place and jumped in with one of my friends. We tried to coerce Rebekah to jump in with us but she refused. We managed to get her to wade in the water and then we attacked her and dragged her in. For the rest of the time there we all swam around and jumped and flipped off things into the water, laughing and smiling the whole time. Unfortunately, our time there had to end and we began the journey home.

When we got back there was an evening service. One of the Haitian native workers here is a musician and has his own choir who came to do a performance. They were all different ages and absolutely fabulous. God's spirit is definately moving in this place. It was so amazing to be singing with others from a whole different culture and in different languages, the same praises to the same almighty God. Even here in Haiti, where there is so much destruction and darkness, we could gather together under the shelter of a pavillion to sing his praises into the night air. The rest of the evening was rather uneventful compared to the excitement and adventures of the day. Tomorrow begins another week, and we have no idea what adventures are in store for us, we only know that whatever God has planned will be wonderful, and we are excited and blessed to be a part of it.

 With love from Haiti...

Little Hands, Big Hearts.

To celebrate building over 1500 shelters, Samaritan's Purse threw a small ceremony and party for the Haitian natives working for them. We had a local children's choir come and sing for us, as well as a speaker and then a lunch buffet afterwards. The children from the Salem orphanage, the first orphanage we had visited, were still on our heart and we wanted to visit them again. Rebekah, my mother and I jumped in the car and were on our way.

When we reached the orphanage, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach from the excitment of seeing the children again. One of the boys opened the door and as we stepped into the yard, children started shrieking with excitement and running to us. Instead of the usual handshake, they were jumping into our arms and embracing us. They found three chairs for us and brought them to the shade of a large tree where they sat around us on benches and rocks. We told them the story of the Gospel as I handed out the materials to make salvation bracelets. They waited with extreme patience as we finished knotting and stringing the bracelets, for the next surprise we had planned. I told them we had brought some special gifts for them to share and as I reached into our bag and pulled out some frisbees, huge smiles broke out on the childrens faces. The boys jumped to their feet and were yelling and clapping their hands and they ran around the yard begging me to throw the frisbees to them . In my bag I also had a jump rope and the girls giggled with delight when I gave it to them. It was extreme chaos in the yard with frisbees and balls flying overhead, but everywhere you turned there was laughter and smiles. So much joy filled such a small place.

When we had tired from the heat of the sun, we went back to the shade of the tree. My mother told them Bible stories and two little girls climbed into my lap. The soothing sound of my mother's voice and the midday heat quickly lulled them to sleep and soon I had a sweet little braided head laying on each shoulder. Another girl, slightly older than the other two and wearing winter flannel pajamas, sat at my right and stroked my hands. Every once and awhile she would take my hand and place it on her face, inhaling deeply. Then she would take her hand and rub it on my arms and legs and then smell her own hand. Soon, her and another little girl began to rub their hands up and down my legs, then smelling their hands. I'm still not exactly sure what was going on, but I found it quite hilarious. Eventually they tired of their game and they sat next to me, laying their heads on my lap. Some of the older boys tried to teach me how to count in Creole, and laughed hysterically everytime I misprounounced a word, which was the majority of the time. We also went through the alphabet, named animals, different relatives, and fruits. Then I would tell them the same word in English. It was unbelievable how they could remember words I only told them once, when they had to repeat things to me multiple times before I'd remember. Four hours had gone by, and I cannot remember not having a smile on my face once. I never wanted to leave them but our translator and driver were getting tired and wanted to leave. Goodbyes are so painful, especially when you look in the eyes of such precious children, desperate for love, and knowing you might never see them again.

After we had come home the rest of the afternoon went by more slowly. A baby goat had been born the night before and a few of our friends brought us down to see it on the fourwheeler. While we were there I spotted another black, hairy, ginormous tarantula. I ran away screaming. Because of the party earlier that day, most of the workers had the afternoon off, and a large van of us drove to the next village over to explore the market. Stepping out of the van, a million sights, sounds, and smells attacked me. Not to mention the hoards of people running up to us displaying their wares. As we walked through the market some children followed us constantly saying "You Amerikani! You Amerikani! Give me money!" They wound in and out of our group, running from person to person demanding the same thing. Cloths were tied from one store stall to the other to give some shade, but they were so low you had to bend over as you walked under them. Chickens, goats, and other animals ran around freely and there was no order to the wares being sold. Nail polish and hair supplies would be right next to a stand selling vegetables, and pieces of cloth next to the bread. With the sun beating down upon our backs and the sweat pouring off our bodies, we made our way through the crowd of people, dodging the speeding motorcycles and cars to finally reach our van and return home.

During dinner it began to rain, and after we went into the soccer field to toss a frisbee around with some of the other workers here. As we were playing we noticed a beautiful, bright rainbow appear over the mountains. Despite the rain we still managed to play a game of soccer, with another dip in the pool afterward. Since it was Saturday night, we went to the lounge where we played games together and talked. We had plans to go to waterfalls and a beach the next day, but my dad said that if it rains we will not be able to go. Some of us checked weather.com and we are praying that its sunny tomorrow.

With love from Haiti...