DISAPPOINTMENT!

Entertaining guests is something that is always hard to do.  Well, let me rephrase that.  Not always hard, but sometimes inconvenient.  Entertaining in Miami is always very easy to do, as there is at least 5 things every person on the Earth would like.  The opportunities are endless.  The thing that is hard, is making sure everything works out.

Saturday morning, Becky and I planned on going to Versailles, a Cuban Cuisine and bakery just down the road.  While I had never been there before, I was unsure about it all, but with Becky and her Spanish, I knew it would be the best time to go.  We had an amazing breakfast of steak and eggs, hashbrowns, and a side of bread I politely declined.  I also got a cup of Cuban coffee, which is all it is set out to be.  It really is a good coffee, and I am not really a coffee fan.  As we left, there are always Cuban men sitting around talking, and one in particular was in a black suit, with a hat and some stellar sunglasses.  He had a sign that, in Spanish read, "The Castros are a big ball of shit!"  Of course we went over and chatted with him, and took some pictures with him as well.  What a great start to the day.

After this, we did some errands and then decided that we should go check out the Everglades.  I knew where I had taken my parents, and had a great time, but we saw sign for an indian reservation that offered boat rides as well, so we went deeper in and finally found this place.  While it sounded cool, their marketing people do a better job than most.  This place was a junky place just on the side of the road, ran by some indians.  It was only $10 for a ride, so we climbed in and took off.  The boat carried about 20 souls across the river, but, we were the only ones.  And the indian driver who didn't say a word the whole time.  It really was one of the worst experiences I have had since being down here.  It couldn't end quick enough and we took out of there laughing because of what we had just encountered.  It was very lame.  We took off back toward the city, and away from the very hick lifestyle of "alligator wrestlers."

Our next plan was to go eat Cuban again, as we both really like it, and you can't get it really anywhere else in the states other than Miami.  So we wanted to get our fill while Becky was here.  Before we made it there, we spotted a casino so we decided to see what this little place was about.  It was unlike one I had ever been to so we went after Lady Luck and went in.  We noticed the huge sign, revealing we once again were messing with the same indians, and they once again revealed to us that we should never go visit this tribe again.  Everything was pitiful inside that place.  Usually I like a good casino, but this place was nothing but lame.  Very lame.  We made enough to be one meal for lunch, then took out towards Sergio's Cuban Cuisine.

For lunch, we both order a Cuban pork dish that was very amazing.  We think it is slow roasted with the juices remaining in the meat, then fried.  It is a very delicious taste as it was covered in sauteed onions and topped with a Mojito sauce.  The perfect ending for a crappy morning of air boat rides.  

Before we could do anything else, we took a nap at the house, then set out in the opposite direction towards Key Biscayne.  We had looked up prices of renting a bike, and planned on riding them around the island.  Once again, we got to the island (place we had planned everything out, just like in the 'Glades) however, we had forgot to look up the address for the bikes.  We couldn't find the rental anywhere, so our trip there was turned short and we just went to downtown Miami.  Part of downtown is a place called the Design District, which I have always wanted to go to, but never found time.  Therefore, we went to check it out.  Once again, everything was closed, and seemed much better online, as there was only like 4 stores and they were all home design, not quite what we were expecting.  On our way we had spotted an art supply store, so instead of looking at design, we took out walking, which, we went about 3 miles and never found it.  It was starting to feel like God was against our kind of fun today.  

Sleepless Nights in Miami is a huge event, all free, and lasts from 6PM to 7AM on Saturday night, so we knew this was going to turn out good.  It was live artists, music and everything else artsy that you could think of.  150 free exhibits.  We drove around for an hour looking for parking, since, parking a 15-passenger van is not an easy task.  For once, something was watching out for us, as we found a free parking lot, but it was about 7 miles away from everything.  Lucky we had free shuttles all night.  We got out and got ready to go, but once again hadn't looked up where anything was at.  We had no idea.  We just followed a crowd that seemed to know where to go, who entered a circular, outdoor stage.  We walked in to find ourself in an opera.  This days does find ways to keep getting worse.  We quickly exited and found ourself on the patio of yet, another Cuban Cuisine, listening to a guitar player so was very Cuban as well.  Being just across the street from the opera, he cranked the system and played like he was giving his last concert.  Within minutes, we had opera characters in dress, interrupting our concert to tell him to quiet down.  It was quite funny as he acted like he didn't speak English, and would only respond in Spanish, telling them no.  

After we had ate and listened to our share of guitar, we took out finding other exhibits.  Some good some bad, but it was an exciting meeting with everyone in Miami being in the streets together.  At about 1:30, we left the beach and headed home to bed.  The quick weekend with family was coming to a close, but at least it was one full of memories that we will laugh about for a long time to come.  

COUSINS

As for school, it went very well.  Well, I guess I can't say very well.  There were the normal troubles that I have with students, but by now this is just normal.  However, during lunch something extravagant happened that I will never forget.  It was as if it was planned for shooting a movie about troubled kids in the inner city.  I was outside for lunch when one of the ladies volunteering at the school for the day came out to talk to me.  She informed me that we had the best behaved children she had ever worked with.  I told her there was a mistake in how she said this to me, as I know these children are not the best.  She repeated it saying she hates working in the public schools, because they students are so disrespectful to their teachers and everyone in the school, but at our school, they all stand up and greet a visitor as they walked in the room.  Right at that moment, a bag of Capri-Sun (a fruit drink for kids) flew across the lunchroom, missing the ladies face by about 2 inches and landed at my foot.  I could not help but laugh at what had just happened, because it was such perfect timing, making my point proven to her.

At 2:30 I left the school to head North to Ft. Lauderdale.  Becky Crosthwait, my oldest cousin on the Shue side was flying in to come hang out for the weekend.  How pumped I was to have another familiar face come to town and hang out.  I picked her up about 3 o'clock then headed back to the house, making a brief stop at school.  When we got to the house, we settled in for a bit, putting on comfortable clothes and good shoes, then took out walking.  Where else that Little Havana, the neighborhood I live in.  This is perfect for Becky, as she is fluent in Spanish, and gave her a chance to whip it out on some old Cuban men at the local eateries that we hit up.  We walked down the main street in Little Havana called "Calle Ocho" (8th street) which stretches about 10-15 miles through Miami.  We walked and walked, stopping for food and conversation with strangers, but all good people.  Finally, we decided to turn around as we had almost made it downtown.  If unknown, I live a good 40 blocks from downtown, which means we had walked that, and had to get back without money for the buses.  We walked, altogether, about 8 miles, most being in the dark.  It was quite the experience, and one that I have not really had yet with anyone.  It was awesome to get out and see the neighborhood that I live in.  With Becky, I have a translator, which I don't have otherwise.

After getting back to the house, we went out for some amazing, fresh sushi where we sat and talked with the chefs one-on-one for about an hour while eating and afterwards as well.  They taught us how to make the fun garnishes that come with all the dishes.  While they look very complex and fancy, there is nothing to them, just a little more time that peeling it normally.

All in all the weekend was off to a great start!  Only better things will come with the rest!

CHANGING A YOUNG MANS LIFE ONE STEP AT A TIME

Coming back to work from a long week off is always a tough thing to do.  However, you never know what to expect to comeback to.  Sometimes it may be good, others may be worse, but the way this week has been, is never the way you want to come back.

After reading their letters and hearing them say that they want me to come back, the boys have not really proven to have been telling the full truth.  Homework has not been done, attitudes have been flaring, and no one has been giving it their all.  To top things off, they have all been bringing things in to class that is not really supposed to be there.  Everyone thought that they should bring shades, necklaces, or forget their time at home.  Just yesterday, I heard some music being played, and the sound indicated that it was obviously coming from headphones in one of my boys ears.  Someone had an mp3 player, and I was determined to get it.

Later on in the day, I saw one boy have a headphone in his right ear with the wire strategically going down the inside of his shirt to the player in his shorts.  I told him to give it to me, as he willingly did, knowing I wasn't putting up with anything like that, and I also would never back down.  Putting up a fight is pointless, because in my dictatorship in my classroom, I never lose.  Well, he pulled it out and out fell a razor blade onto the chair.  I don't think much of it, but pick it up and ask what it is for.  He replies, "So if anyone tries me."  This being a threat, we can not take it lightly and I get the principal involved.  It was one of the most vicious butt-chewings I had ever witnessed, yet, that was all that happened.  I didn't know if I should feel safe, or in danger, but I sure let him know that I was not happy with what was going on with his attitude.  The day continued on as if nothing had happened, but I was sure to watch my back as you of course would be a bit nervous.

Today, his father was required to come in and meet with us, which went very smooth.  The father seemed very supportive of us, and even more disappointed in his son.  It was hard to watch my students face sink, as I knew that he was, deep down inside, a very good kid.  Things continued on until lunch when everyone left, but this boy stayed.  "Can I talk to you Mr Isaac?"  Of course I am never going to turn a student down that wants some of my time, so I engage into his conversation.

Over the next 30 minutes, I heard a young man from the hood of Little Haiti, Miami, Florida, spill his guts to me, exclaiming that he would really like to change.  However, his life is so far in the wrong direction, it is very hard for him to get on the right track.  That right track starts in my classroom.  "I never wanted to hurt anyone Mr. Isaac.  I forgot it was in my pocket.  You know me.  You know that I don't have it in me to ever hurt anyone.  I hate the site of blood, and never want to hurt anything."  My heart ached as I knew he was telling the truth.  He could very well be in jail this morning for the actions he took the day before when bringing a weapon to school.  Had this happened, I would feel guilty for the rest of my life, and he simply did make a mistake. 

But who is to say that he was not lying to me?  Looking into this kids eyes, I could tell he was not throwing out a random line trying to fool his teacher.  This boy is nothing but serious in these talks.

So what is it that he sees in me that he can come to me and tell me all these insights to his secretive life?  I am not sure.  Or, I wasn't until he opened his mouth to speak.  "I don't respect anyone else in this school Isaac, because no one else here ever respects me.  I have never had a teacher respect me like you do.  I know that you care for us and do what is best."  This could be the key words to one of the hardest things or tasks put in front of me.  I hope God has picked the right patriarch to take on this challenge that will test every nerve in my body.  But what me?  What do I have that someone else doesn't?  I can't wait to find out! 

HAITI VIDEO

HAITI!! DAY 8 AND REFLECTION

Sunday, November 1, 2009-Last day in Haiti  Day 8

 

            This day in Haiti was quite short, as the morning was totally booked with getting the entire clinic clean as a whistle and packing the car with all the luggage for the trip back to the capital.  We ate our final breakfast of eggs, hotdogs, onions and peppers, then settled into the car for our last trip down the long road between Port au Prince and Jacmel. 

            We all fit into the car extremely well, except for the poor girl we had hired to cook.  Mr. Valentine wanted her to come along, but made her sit in the backseat with all the luggage, with less than one inch moving room on each side of her.  I felt very bad, but he said she sits in tighter spots on the public transportation busses, which I know is very true.

            The trip to the airport was very uneventful, as we all were dozing in and out of sleep.  But we eventually made it to the airport.  After one week of being in extreme heat and no AC, I was ready to be back in my Miami home.  We checked in through the hundreds of metal detectors, insuring we did not purchase anything illegal and try to bring it in, then got in line.  Everything was very smooth as we successfully check in on standby and got a flight about 4 hours earlier than scheduled, getting us home in the mid afternoon instead of later at night.  With work the next morning, this was a great change in plans for me.  I had lots of preparing to do. 

 

Conclusion/Thoughts after the trip

 

            While being in a place like Haiti, I feel that lessons are not really learned or realized until arriving back to your comfort zone.  You have to take time to process what you really experienced and were a part of for a week.  While still submerged in the culture, it is hard to see what exactly you have until you get back to it and see what you take for granted. 

            While only being in Haiti for a short week, compared to those who go overseas for a year or two, I still felt like I saw enough and learned enough to really have an impact on my life and how I view things.  Growing up, we all had basically anything we needed in life to make it easier for us.  When it is hot, we have an AC, and when it is cold we have a heater.  Electricity is something we no longer think about.  We don’t even process what all happens when we flip a simple switch and the light comes on.  It just happens.  Well, for a week, that didn’t happen.  We were forced to adjust to a lifestyle, creating ways to get tasks done without the appropriate tools we are armed with while living in such a spoiled culture such as the one in America.             

            Coming back home, I look around the house at all the things that fill our walls.  Things we do not need or use, yet, we have them just lying around wasting space.  We have things such as electric fireplaces, because we now are too lazy to even strike a match to start a fire.  Strike a match?  Honestly?  We just turn a knob and instant heat.  What is the point?  Why do I live in a culture that is rich enough to buy a riding lawn mower AND purchase a monthly membership to a gym?  Even a push mower!  Anyone I saw last week would love to have one of those.  If I were to take a machete to anyone in the states and tell them to mow a lawn with it, they would look at me like I was stupid.  If I did the same in Haiti, or other third-world countries, they would respond with, “Which lawn?”

            The fact that we have everything at our fingertips and we do not appreciate it drives me insane.  I come back to my school, where the kids were living in the cultures of Haiti just about 9 short years ago.  However, they have forgotten everything and think the world owes them something now that they are American.  They forget about their old friends and family members who still walk 4 miles a day just to get some water to cook or bath with.  Now, they just turn a knob and complain when the hot water is gone.  And drinking water?  It is ice cold at the touch of a button.  What happened to boiling water to clean it, then chilling it in a fridge that runs 12 hours a day before you are allowed a chilled drink of water?  What happened to that?  Getting caught up in our lazy, spoiled and too wealthy culture is what happened!  Why does God spoil us, to make us want more and more things.  These are all thoughts that ran through my head as I brushed my teeth Monday morning, as I washed it out with tap water, and then hesitated to put it in my mouth afraid of parasites.  I then reminded myself I was back home and it was ok.  Had that water picket not produced water at the turn of the knob, I would have been furious as I had to walk to the kitchen and give it a try.  Yet, the rest of the world knows nothing like this exists.

            It hurts me to think of my brother and sisters in Haiti who eat food out of the ravines next to dirty hogs and cows as I pull through a drive through or pop in a Pop Tart when I want a tiny snack.  With the price I pay for two cheeseburgers, one workingman makes that much to support his family of 5 each day in another country.  Yet, the world still owes me something because I grow up in America.  Then, we as Americans wonder why the rest of the world hates us.  If I saw a country come into my home and take our produce for dirt-cheap, then charge 10 times the amount in America and keep the profits, I would be furious as well.  Why the world is not fair is a question that will continue to haunt me until the day God calls my name. 

            I will not soon forget my experience in Haiti and how just a short time in its borders will touch me for a lifetime.  I learned more from people that I speak 3 words of the same language than I could learn in a lifetime from people who live the same sorts of ways I do here in the United States of Spoiled America.  While I say this, I still love my home and country, just wish I could bring back some change in people’s hearts and their ways they are living their lives.  Why do we deserve to live in peace and comfort when others go through hell and back each day just to keep their baby from crying?  I want to change the world.  Even if it is only by changing the feelings in one person’s heart, I will change the world!

           

 

HAITI!! DAY 7

Saturday, October 31, 2009-Halloween  Day 7 

 

            We wake up for our last full day in Haiti.  Knowing we have lots to do, we get right to work, allowing more time for us to drive around and see the country since we were not tied down to the clinic for the day.  We clean the rooms, dusting, sweeping, mopping and organizing everything we were leaving.  Running around like this proved to be very tiring, especially with no electricity to cool us off in any fashion.  Instead, to get any wind, we had to run around, feeling the breeze blow by us, which eventually made us even sweatier.  We did this until we heard that breakfast was waiting for us.

            We went down to collect on our usual helpings of eggs and avocados.  While we younger ones were always first to eat, we finished before Mr. Beauregard and Mr. Valentine had even reached the table.  We got out our trusty pack of cards and dealt a few games out to entertain us until it was time to leave. 

            They informed us that we were going to be going to a river that was fun to dig a hole in, then just sit and let the current sweep over your body.  We all changed into swimming attire and feel comfortable for the occasion.  We then all marched to the car, excited for the days adventure. 

            We took out shortly after, driving what seemed like forever, until finally, we came to what was the river.  To me, it looked like a rock quarry.  Rocks were covering every square inch of the river, and the sides.  I am used to rivers being surrounded by trees, mud and dirt, and an occasional rock.  This, however, was nothing the same.  Huge rocks, small rocks, and only rocks were present.  The road turned into these rocks and we continued to drive.  There is no chance that I would ever take my car over these rocks, but in Haiti, it wasn’t even a thought to NOT keep going.  Then, the road turned into a rushing river.  Think it stopped us?  Once again, not a chance.  We pounded through it as I remembered playing Oregon Trail when I was little.  I just felt like one of those wagons and was just waiting for us to sink or flip.  While nothing scary like that happened, we made it across and parked the car.  We all got out excited to swim, but devastated at what we saw.  Everyone in Haiti was here bathing, going to the bathroom, and washing their clothes.  The river had many uses in Haiti.  There were people everywhere, doing all sorts of different things and wearing all different sorts of things.  People in hats, shorts, jeans, shirts and even wearing nothing.  It was like an X rated river, but no one in Haiti noticed or cared.  Their culture does not make things like this sexual like the states does.  A woman can walk around topless there and no one thinks a thing of it.  Little boys were darting in and out of every bend of the river, not even worried that their man-hood was flapping around in the wind.  It is NATURAL there!  Was it weird for me?  Of course, but you eventually get over it and go on with life.  I can guarantee it wasn’t anyone who would be posing in PLAYBOY or anything like that anyways.

            We kept walking down stream until we came to a part that seemed tame enough for us to be without attracting all the attention.  Stripped down to our suits and jumped in.  The water was nipping out our legs, as it seemed so cold.  This was only because it was so hot outside that the water was so refreshing and chilly.  Doing what we told was fun, we tried to sit down and let the water flush over our skin, however, the current was so strong, there was no way this was going to be possible.  We were being forced downstream.  So, to enjoy what we heard was amazing, we each found a larger rock, straddled it so that the water was pushing it into us, and sat there.  This was the only way to not be moved by the current.  We sat in this position for quite some time, enjoying the sun beating down on us, yet, still feeling very chilly from the water.  It was a very peaceful way to spend my Saturday morning after a stressful week of working in the harsh heat of Haiti.

            After we had enough, we got out and carried our stuff to the car where Mr. Valentine was waiting for us.  We marched over these rocks in flip-flops, dodging the piles of feces that the little children had left behind.  It was like walking on a minefield in Iraq.  One wrong step and you would wish you had watched where you were walking.  When we finally made it back to the car, we were all totally dry, slipped back into our clothes and took out for lunch back at the clinic. 

            On the way back, we had to stop at the market to pick up some plantains.  Now when this happens, we were always told, “just wait here about 15 minutes and we will be right back.”  We eventually learned this was never true, but we would just wait.  Like we had really any other choice.  While sitting in the car, I would always watch the thousands of people walking by and staring at me as they passed.  Then, one man passed by and had a shirt on that really caught my eye.  It was an Amish buggy with “AMISH COUNTRY” written above it.  Below the buggy “SUGARCREEK, OHIO” read in big bold letters.  Alicia and I, the two Mennonites on the trip, shared a nice laugh about that.

            When we got back to the clinic, we napped for a bit while the cook was preparing the food we brought back, but we ate as fast as we could to get back out on the roads.  We had plans of going to a waterfall that was supposed to be very pretty.  Only problem was, we had no idea where to go. 

            As we took out, we decided to go ask someone for directions.  We headed straight for downtown Jacmel, but no one seemed to know where it was.  Finally, we stopped on the side of the road at a house with a boy outside.  He claimed to know, but instead of telling us, he just got in and said he needed to take a bath anyways, so he would come along.  From the sounds of the Creole in the argument, his family didn’t like the idea, but we set out.  He led us through town, across two rivers full of bathing people, through plantain fields and seemed to be a little lost.  Finally, he knew where he was and took us on back roads.  The sign said we were going to have to hike 5 kilometers one way, which, wearing my flip-flops, I was not impressed.  I would have rather just gone back to the internet café and GOOGLED it.  However, Valentine just kept on driving.             

            This road proved to be the bumpiest, most chopped up road I had ever been on.  The top of my head eventually became well acquainted with the top on the car, and my bald spot started growing as my hair was getting wiped away from the cloth on the ceiling.  After passing through many people making their way to Jacmel with their jugs balanced on their head, we can to a place up the mountain with a “$10 parking” sign painted on a wall.  We were instructed to park the car and get out, as we could drive no further.  We were told we had to walk fifteen minutes, as the tour guide came out with a long rope.  “We need this to repel down some steep rocks, but it isn’t dangerous,” he informed us as he started down the rocky trail.  We followed along as they were being as kind as possible, trying to get the largest tip possible for taking us.  We past many brilliant views, jumped through rivers and climbed over rocks.  We made jokes that this had better not be a little trickle.  They informed us there were three basins, 17 foot-deep, 52 foot-deep, and 75 foot-deep, in which we could dive into any of them off the fall.  We passed the first two, seeing nothing too special.  We then, waited in line, forced to take off our shoes, and one by one repelled down this rock form soaked in water.  Don’t worry, we were all harassed in and very well protected.  Right!  This proved to be not that dangerous as I could have done it alone without the rope, but safety first.  As we got to the bottom and looked around the corner, we could see the deep basin and hear the splash from the waterfall.  We all put all out stuff down, gave the guides our cameras and jumped in, swimming around the rocks to reveal the site.  It was amazing.  While it was not the sweetest fall I had ever seen, it still was very attractive, and secluded.  No one but ourselves were there.

            Right away, the tour guides (5 of them I think) swam to the falls and started scaling the rocks.  I jumped in and just followed them, not sharing any signs of fear.  That was about the last moment when I showed no signs of fear.  They all went into the falls, and started climbing the rocks with the water pouring in their faces, but had no difficulties getting to the upper rocks.  (There were three levels to jump from:  about 8 feet, about 20 feet and about 50 feet)  For them, it was second nature.  For me, it was hell to look down, as I have only gone off a 2 foot diving board before.  Looking down and seeing little people really set your eyes into focus of how high you really are, even though it doesn’t look it from down below. 

            I was helped up the waterfall, to the second tier then told myself, “I’m going to the top.  I am not a sissy.”  Two minutes later I was telling myself, “I’m going down, I am a big sissy,” but didn’t care as I climbed down to the middle one.  This still was a little higher than I was comfortable, but took the plunge and took a leap of faith that there was nothing under that surface of water.  I tucked my head, said a short prayer and, “SPLASH!” I was submerged into the murky water.  However, I came up with a smile on my face, and swam right back for more. 

            I continued to dive off of this one for a while, until my heart said, “Go higher.”  The Haitian men accompanied me to the top.  I let them jump first, showing me specifically where to land.  I aimed at my target, kept my eye on it and took off.  When I jumped to the edge and got ready to jump off, my heart jumped even more and I couldn’t do it.  I almost fell in as my forward velocity was carrying me over.  Keeping my feet still on the soaked rocks was very hard, but I did it.  Otherwise I would have landed on the cliff-like rocks that I was required to jump out and over to be certain I would hit the water.  I was terrified.  I caught my composure, stepped back again and went for it.  It seemed like forever that I was falling and wanted to see every second of my daring jump that no one else in the group would do.  However, at the last second, I forgot to tuck my head into the dive.  I smacked my face right on the water, throwing my head back into my back and pushing every muscle in my face straight into my skull.  It was the weirdest feeling I have ever felt in my face.  I came up out of the water with a smile on my face, but knew I wasn’t going to go back up there again.  My diving career was over.

            Since no one else was doing anything, we decided to head back to the car, and take off for home.  By this time it was getting fairly late.  As we headed back, we had to climb the mountain instead of hike down it.  In wet flip-flops, this was very hard.  I braved the harsh, rugged cliffs and took off my shoes and hiked it barefoot, just praying I didn’t cut anything and catch a vicious infection.  My prayer was answered as we got back to the car safe and sound.

            We made the journey back to Jacmel, dropped the boy off and thanked him for his duties, then returned to the clinic.  There we were met with a quick meal and a quick shower before we once again dashed off to the beach for a huge concert.  As we sat at the concert and waited for about what seemed like 3 hours, the band we came to see still wasn’t there and we were tired of sitting around.  The next day was the day to travel home, so we decided to get back and get some rest.  

HAITI!! DAY 6

Friday, October 30, 2009  Day 6

 

            Friday would soon prove to be one of the most (seemingly) unproductive days in Haiti.  That is, other than Monday when we just sat in a car, turned on, blowing AC for 9 hours pointlessly.  Anyways, once again eggs and avocados greeted us at the breakfast table after we all finished getting around. 

            During the daily meetings we have each night on our mattresses outside under the stars, we discussed that we need to make sure everyone we hired as staff knows how to do things after we leave.  Part of this meant not being involved more than watching from the side how they did everything without our help.  They all had the hang of it, as nothing was too difficult to do.  We still, all together, manned the food drive part of filling bowls, however, the majority of the day was filled with playing cards on the table, waiting for the lucky few with bowls to bring them to the kitchen. 

            While sitting and watching, we noticed the face of a girl that was very familiar.  This was her third day to come to the clinic, yet, never saw the doctor.  Instead, she had caught on that we were giving away clothes, and took advantage.  She also, like every good con artist, noticed we were all switching positions and would come to our store everytime someone else new was working who wouldn’t catch her.  It was finally, when Harold was having trouble with her, that I remembered I had the same trouble of her taking 3-4 items each time from the store.  Finally, Mr. Beauregard, after losing 12 or so items to this one girl, did something we never wanted to do, but kicked her out of the clinic.  Will she be back after we leave?  I would like to think she wouldn’t unless it is for the right reason, but what is to stop her since we are no longer there?  Maybe she needs the clothes more than we really know, but who doesn’t in Haiti?  Of course she does.  But so does everyone else, and that is the point we are trying to make to her and every other person that came through.  We are there as a mission for everyone, not to fill every need of every person by giving them everything.

            As time for lunch was upon us, there was no sign of the cook.  Later, we heard she had returned to Port au Prince to visit her daughters.  As most of the trip was unorganized, this was too.  They had not considered we no longer had any food, or anyone to prepare it.  Therefore, there was no lunch provided for the day.  This put everyone in a bad mood, as we were all hungry and hot with still no electricity to at least cool our faces for a bit from the hot sun.  Finally, the cook returned from the city, with groceries and starting preparing ‘lunch’ which was served after 5 PM.  Once again, the food cause something in my stomach to react, as the pikliz from the day before make my stomach uneasy to anything that entered.  Therefore, once again, I had more ‘business’ to attend to after eating.  At least the electricity was finally on, allowing me to drag a fan from the bedroom into the bathroom to keep me from losing even more weight from seating like crazy.  Those bathrooms tend be react like a sauna or a hotbox or anything to that family of things.  I call it my ‘weight loss’ room, as I seem to lose a lot every time I enter. 

            Evening came after a boring day of playing cards, but after eating, we all decided we didn’t want to go out anywhere.  Even though we had done nothing all day, the stress of the entire week was finally setting in on us all, and we just wanted to relax.  Alicia, Harold, and myself all played games for the remainder of the evening until we couldn’t keep our eyes open much longer.  Little did we know, it was only 7:30, but our bodies were not on a regular time schedule.  Instead of going by certain times, this is how we functioned for the week.  Wake up when the sun rises.  Eat when your body says you are hungry.  Sleep when the sun goes down.  So, when the sun would set at 7, our bodies started winding down naturally. 

            As we were getting ready to run off to bed, our nurse walked out of her bedroom with her bags in her hand.  She was leaving and would not be back before we left.  While being with someone for a week, even though you do not speak the same language, you do grow a little closer to them.  We all said goodbye, and got in a line to see her off.  However, in cultures other than America, they greet and leave with a kiss on the cheek.  Now, for mister touchy-feely me, you would think this may be very easy to do.  Well, to fill you in, it was one of the most awkward moments of my life.  In Miami, I do not do it, just reach out my hand and give the good ole handshake.  However, I felt really pressured since everyone else was doing it.  Politely, I shook her hand and lowered my face right near hers and made the kissing ‘smooch’ even though I did not touch lips to anything.  Bending down, as low as if I was tying my shoe, made it even more awkward.  Had she been 6 feet tall, I may have enjoyed it a bit, but no chance of that.  I quickly made my move and got on with my life.

            We all met upstairs quickly before shutting out the lights for a quick meeting to talk about the work week, and how we were leaving the clinic, now that it was finished being open since we were there.  In the three open days of the clinic that we were present, we saw a total of 175 patients.  A HUGE success in our books.  After talking what other improvements we could try to show the people in the morning, we all drifted to sleep quickly.  While everyone was outside, I once again chose to sleep inside, not just tonight, but the rest of the trip as the mosquitoes tended to prefer to stay outside.  A perfect collaboration between man and insect!