Tag: son

An American oxymoron…

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My 13 year old asked me the other day while watching Top Gear, a television show that originated in the UK and has grown to a spin off in the United States.

Dad; what is the difference between a GMC truck and a Chevrolet truck?

Sitting back in my chair, realizing this was a moment where I could lay waste to any positive view he may hold towards these vehicles with a short idiotic tirade, I gathered my thoughts leaned down, put my arm around him and using my best Ward Cleaver laid this little number upon his unsuspecting bewildered eyes.

Ahhhh-hemmmm!

(Clearing my throat, using my best grandpa jones old man inflection)

The difference between them son is symbolic of the widening indifference in our countries mental acuity.  You see when our country was young, led by intelligent, strong willed, dedicated individuals we as a country knew the difference between right or wrong. A child could play in the street without fear, a woman was revered by men, a mom was considered the, be all end all of every child, and your house was your home, not a temporary storage area until you moved again hoping to make an extra buck.  Community meant that everyone cared about their town and participated in its growth.  You didn’t just live there to commute somewhere else without a care in the world about your neighbors or their well being.

The difference clearly rested in a country becoming accepting of all races and religions without prejudice.  Remembering we are all products of family members who immigrated here and just because we are third or fourth generation doesn’t mean we hold some inalienable right over others trying to achieve the same dreams. Yet that is exactly what we continue to do and every race and ethnicity is as guilty as the next when it comes to this process. Our country started with the ability to parent each other’s children without fear of retribution, living under the guise of “it takes a village”.  Education was a number one priority and teachers were revered for success afforded them through flexibility not unattainable federal guidance. Teachers are taught to “have the power” and “Show students the way” yet due to spineless administrators and frivolous lawsuits our children have all the power backed by parents wanting an education for their children but refusing to back any teachers play when it comes to their precious heathens.

Oh yes son the difference is clear as daylight! For you see in this country we have allowed so many to abuse the legal system for so long that a citizen of the United States is now considered guilty until proven innocent. Prisoners have all the rights and citizens have little to no protection from the criminals.  Our police forces have been told to uphold the law using the iron fist of justice, yet the iron fist has been reduced to cheap tin and is now tied behind every officers back leaving them unable to complete any given task or have the appropriate authority to do so.

In god we trust is upon every dollar yet church and state has been cited as a conflict of moral/ethical principal. The difference is right in front of your face son. Hold the door for a woman today and you are oppressing her right to equality, don’t hold the door and you are rude self centered man. Rape and abuse are the center of every television drama, glorified for all to see which seems to be an oxymoron in a civilized society.  The real housewives of any city USA are a ratings boom feeding these women millions of dollars. As American women we should be ashamed of these poor excuses for humans yet we glorify their shallow self centered struggles. Meet any woman who behaves as they do in real life (not reality TV) and she is instantly a trash talked bitch cut from the pack and left to obscurity.

What is the difference? ah yes, everyone gets a trophy when playing sports and no one loses; because if we have all winners that means someone will feel bad about losing, possibly stunting their ability to feel good about themselves in the future.  It also means that no one person will know what it feels like to truly succeed at something through failure, there bye over time eliminating the need to perform and win from our genetic make-up.

Our society is told to go outside and live life daily, these directions come from the confines of a television we paid way too much money for because its quality is so good you actually feel as though you are there, thusly preventing you from actually being outside. The difference is complaining about the rain while sniveling about the sun, whining about the heat while crying about how cold it has become!

The differences are right in front of you, you are bombarded with them every day.   WE (Americans) choose what we believe in as individuals, then we stick to it come hell or high water! Its what makes us great as a society, but its also what may in fact lead to our downfall.

In reality there are no real differences, a tweak here a few horsepower there, but essentially the very same truck. Over the last 100 years “we the people” have become so blinded by the Hollywood glow of some that lead, so ethically corrupted by misled faith, disenchanted with reality, bought off by envy and the American advertising machine that handles everything from a bar of soap to the Presidency, that “we the people” actually believe  there is a tangible difference between a GMC and a Chevy truck.

If you don’t think other countries aren’t laughing at our pig headed stupidity then drive down to your local Honda/Acura-Nissan/Infinity- Toyota/Lexus dealers and see who is having the last laugh at your expense..

Oh yeah, by the way son the GMC truck is waayyyy better than a piece of junk Chevy truck any day! Duh!  Stupid Chevy owners…

 

 

Waking up=Suck

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Waking up this morning from a short night of slumber, I sat at the edge of my firehouse bunk slowly orienting myself to time, place and event.

Time: 0600=Sucks!

Place: Still at work not home next to my lovely wife=Sucks!

Event: Daily awakening from crappy slumber after night of running calls= Suck!

As I rolled my eyes around the room, shedding “suck” from the moment, dreams that occupied my brain during the night began flashing forward like bright, stop motion photography.  Some nights they easily dissipate like the mist, while other mornings they linger, playing over and over again like a bad date or a misspoken word during the most inopportune of moments.  Groundhog day…

This morning was different from the others, as I replayed each and every one of my night’s adventures I was reminded of an article that caught my attention sometime back.  The article dealt specifically with dreams and their process; the gist of it stated every morning after a solid night of dreams you should arise and immediately write down the events that occurred. “Hmmm a reporter for your dreams, now there is a job I could handle with ease! The interviews would be tough, for I can be a defensive prick, but I would never let up on myself eventually catching myself with a misspoken word or phrase leading to my cutting edge personality ending up on TMZ!”  In time you will either become enlightened or befuddled, contemplating a good stiff drink (even if you are not the drinking kind). 

A cup of coffee, the morning news and yet I am left wondering about last night’s slumber filled adventures. What do they mean?? What purpose did these dreams serve and why was my subconscious mired in mystery? Dreams were so much simpler when I was younger!

Then like a brick to the side of the head, a thunderbolt across the bow, Edison’s first look into an invention called the light bulb it comes to me.  No Dr. Freud inspired answer, no years of studying psychology in college; I haven’t read a few books at Borders in regards to the human brain, converting me into an armchair hack, nope just a good old-fashioned Ah Ha moment in the making!

We dream in decades…  I know crazy huh!  Think about it though, we dream in decades! My dreams revolve around an approximate ten-year cycle! A certified block of time short of or equal to the amount of storage space left in this super computer known as a brain!

Our brains works like this…

The Frontal lobe handles planning, reasoning, delving into the emotional aspects of my day; minute by minute, then the Parietal lobe moving, orienting, recognizing and stimulating my every thought! The Occipital spends every second of my being visually processing what is happening then leaving the Temporal Lobe to perceive and recognize sounds, memory and speech!   

The brain can only store so much information, so much emotion; the stresses alone should leave your brain requesting a donor! So it only makes sense that when the brain is resting, it’s dying to have a little fun at your expense! A little ME TIME as it where! Helping purge itself of all these crazy thoughts, dreams aspirations, emotions, desires and dreads that flow daily through your waking hours!  Using its abilities for evil, filling your dreams with unattainable goals (Wendy Peffercorn), aspirations (Steve Austin) and disappointments! I still don’t understand why I am not President of the United States!

While delving back into time at decades past it all makes perfect sense! While in my 1-10 phase of life my little brain lived for the simpler things.  When laying my weary little head down to sleep with blankie, I was filling my brain with thoughts of new bicycles, model cars, skateboards, G.I. Joes and Atari game systems!  Nightmares revolved around falling from unknown heights, being chased by dark scary men across deserts, jungles and inner cities!  The scary evil monkey who lived in my closet for the love of God!

10-20 my dreams were filled with cars, tractors, scary U.F.O’s, girls, (U.F.O.’s and girls were equally scary) climbing the highest mountains and awaking naked in a classroom filled with the most popular people in school! (Come on who hasn’t dreamt about being naked in class? You’re a liar if you deny it!).  There was lots of fighting in my dreams back then, nothing was more befuddling than arising to find my room thrashed, sheets soaked in sweat and feeling as though I went three rounds with Rocky Balboa! Yo Adrienne!!

20-30 Endless nights filled with dreams about wealth, expensive cars, drugs, and dying! (It was the eighties after all, could have been a little Magnum PI/Miami Vice thing going on or the constant watching of the period classic “The secret of my success”).  Of course my sleep during this decade was relegated to where and when as working multiple jobs at once early on then moving to a dairy where there are no days off led to round the clock efforts!  Once I started driving truck it only got worse and my dream cycle latched onto the whole dying theme! Usually a grotesque mangled death inside my truck! Yuck! What kind cruel trick is that for my mind to play upon myself!  Sick bastard!!

30-40’s my dreams changed as did life! My income was finally stable, everything revolved around the growth and safety of my children! Slowly evolving, changing me into Marlin the clown fish from Finding Nemo!

No little ones you can’t swim out past the reef it’s too dangerous! You just aren’t ready!!!!

Ahh dad, who cares if I have one little fin instead of two I can do it!

Yeah the kids pretty much hated me during this period! 

Now at 46 I fear being alone; my children are growing so fast and Marlin is slowly releasing his grip around the neck of adventure, allowing the children to explore, challenge themselves, unhampered even by their fathers’ best efforts!

So what does my 50-60’s have in store for my personal dream factory? Will I wake up rubbing my eyes and start pacing in circles screaming “MAKE IT GO AWAY, MAKE IT GO AWAY”!  Or will I be an oasis of relaxation where my brain quietly goes to recharge every night with me awakening next to my lovely bride, smile on my Charlie Brown Face and no fear of the unknown. The darkness that lurks deep inside gone forever!

Now that would not =Suck!

 

License to drive…

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Mirrors adjusted? Check! Seat is in the proper position? Check! Steering wheel is placed at the optimal level for a 10 and 2 hand hold? Check! Are you mentally ready to drive today son? To which a death glare is leveled upon my kindly old man face.

And so goes the dilemma a father faces while teaching his 16-year-old to drive. His son frigidly sits behind the wheel; grip tighter than a vise, knuckles Casper white as the truck moves slowly out of the driveway onto our mile long dirt road.  Plenty of room here to screw things up before he merges with the masses of Dario Franchitti’s/ Dale Earnhardt’s vying for position on Americas roadways! 

Now all of this is supposed to be a monumental moment; a point in family history where a father enjoys sharing his knowledge of the road and joy of driving with his son/daughter. Yet all I feel is fear! Now over my storied employment history there have been numerous adults who learned to drive the behemoth 18 wheelers that dot our highway landscape from your truly! Never once did I trickle even the smallest droplet of sweat! I could firmly place my cup of coffee on the dashboard and nary a drop would spill from the styrofoam chalice. Yet with the family prodigy I am as nervous as a death row inmate waiting for a pardoning phone call. 

Maybe my nerves would wear a little softer if my son showed some “drive” (nice play on words huh?) when it comes to this enormous responsibility. But he is so lackadaisical about the whole process it leaves me screaming ugly profanities inside my head! Why? Why is so indifferent? Why does he not seem to care about the outcome? He doesn’t come across as self entitled. He says he truly wants to learn the finer art of motoring. Yet getting him into gear (another fine motoring reference) has been sticky to say the least!

When I was a kid (flashback moment-didiloo,didiloo,didilooooo) life was like this;

Hi everyone my name is little Betty! I am only 13 years old and I love cars! I have models of cars that I built scattered all over my room, wanna see? The Chevelle and 1957 Bel-Air are my favorite cars but I would drive a Chevy truck with a 454, nice wheels, tires, painted blue with ghost flames! Yes sir by golly that is the truck for me! I clean horse stalls and do all sorts of chores saving money up so that one day I can get my license, purchase my truck and drive where ever and whenever I want! Only 23 months, 2 weeks, 4 days, 16 hours and 12 minutes until I get my license! I like to sit in my dads old GMC and pretend I am driving all over town! Every day after school and on the weekends if you want to find me, that’s right where I’ll be! Ahhhh Shucks, I can’t wait to drive!!!

Flash forward-(didiloo, didiloo, didiloooooo)

It’s taking so long to turn 16! Being 15 is a giant pain in the butt! Do you know when I turn 16 I will own the coolest truck in town and be dating girls left and right! Summer is gonna blow if I don’t get my license! Man, cruising around in moms station wagon with my permit is a giant drag! But I’ll let you in on a little secret.  Shhhh come in a little closer so no one else can hear; when my parents are gone I steal the old man’s GMC and cruise all over town! I know cool huh! Yeah its ugly but seriously who cares and who needs to be 16, when you have an all access pass to party time with no license needed! Turn up the tunes, pick up the friends and whoop, whoop, just cruise! As long as I am home before 8, because you know that’s when my parents get back from their Monday night association meeting and my dad would kill me if he found out! Oh yeah, I am soooo cool!

Flash forward a little more (didiloo, didiloo di-oh you get the point)

Yes! I have my license! I have a truck! I have freedom! Life is great! So long suckers, I’m hitting the road, places I need to see, things I need to do and they don’t involve this place! Van Hagar playing loud, windows rolled down so all you “walkers” can partake in some choice music as I roll on by! Owning a car is fantastic! If you have the means I highly recommend it!!

Present day:

I get nothing from the lad! No enthusiasm for driving, cars or trucks, nothing, nothing at all.  Where have I gone wrong? Is this even my child? Spinning donuts in the parking lot, drag racing out on Fry road, cruising downtown Petaluma on a Saturday night with hundreds of other cool cars and trucks! Loud music, screaming, laughing and having a general good time! Isn’t that enough to entice a young lad to give it a go; to want his license more than anything on this God forsaken planet?

What is that you say? Cruising has been deemed against the law? Hanging out with your friends is considered loitering? A custom car with loud pipes and a cool stereo is now disturbing the peace? To even think of working on your own car you need to aquire a Bachelor’s Degree in Mechanics. On top of that insurance and gasoline are five times the price they were when I was a kid?

Well hell, it all makes perfect sense now! What incentive does the lad have? Why would he want to drive at all?  Why would he even care? Apparently there is a reason they are called the “good old days”.  Because it was good and now we are old which leaves the youth of today nothing but boring days ahead!

So out of the driveway we go, his hands in the perfect 10 and 2 position, the stereo is on, air conditioner set and he is piloting this barge very well down the road.  I resist the urge to browse Facebook as we roll through the countryside. I am trying to build his self-confidence by acting like I fully trust him while I am slyly paying attention to every little detail of his driving manners.  It still ends up being a moment I will cherish forever.  We drive many miles over several days with small corrections here and there, then finally giving him the freedom to drive comfortably without repercussion he relaxes and settles back into the seat.  Another driver on the road, another human reaching the pinnacle of freedom for their age; He may be ready to take the final test securing his permanent license. It might be time for the sensei to release his student out into the world. We pull the truck over and with a sincere smile along with the adoring eyes of his father I lean in and tell him what a good job he is doing, he slowly looks over with a half cocked smile and says thanks. Still no real excitement on his part…

Maybe we should just scrap the whole idea and find him some public transit?

Olympic Bound..

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Watching the 2012 London Olympics over the last 12 days has left me in athletic awe! How I yearn for a challenge of that magnitude,  to focus mind, body and soul on one sporting activity, rise to the challenge, overcome insurmountable obstacles to be the very best that I can become!

Yes it is true, like many young people around the world I have decided to become an Olympian! To feel the thunderous roar of an adoring crowd, performing at the peak of my physical prowess, standing atop an Olympic podium while our National Anthem plays and I (being the great Olympian I am)do my best to lip sync the words knowing that someone at home can tell I have no idea what the hell they are! Yes, YES I want to be that guy!! (Thunderous applause)

Sadly, there is one little problem with my dream, a small issue really but a problem none the less.  I am 45 years old and last I checked there weren’t too many athletes at 45 breaking ANY world records! Oh sure I run most days (3-5 miles), work out constantly in the gym,and eat (somewhat)right, yet near a 4 minute mile I am not! In fact I don’t believe there to be anyone currently cresting the precipice of senior citizenship dominating the track and field ranks! Not one person of age flowing effortlessly without the aid of Ben-Gay or a walker traversing a gymnastics canvas! Not one person that can be referred to as “sir” or “ma’m”  swimming at dolphin like speed or rowing sculls with the ease of a 5 horse power outboard! So what‘s a guy like me to do? All these dreams, hopes, aspirations bottled up inside ready to explode upon the scene? What to do, WHAT TO DO?????

ANSWER:

I will “do” as any red-blooded American father would; I will impose my wishes upon my children!  Disguise their efforts as being “what they want”!  Twist their little minds and stress their little bodies fulfilling my dreams not theirs! Propping them up high on a pedestal of half-truths with statements like; you are the best, no one can perform like you, daddy loves you even when you fail (lie), oh and remember we are doing all of this just for you!  Yeah that’s the ticket!

Want to join the swim/dive team? Well then you will swim/dive morning and night everyday all year round eating tofu and drinking tiger’s milk! Up the ladder jump! Onto the starting block, jump! Swim, swim, swim and dive, dive, dive! Honing your craft, building your skill set and slowly becoming a champion! Hee, hee hee!

Gymnastics, wrestling, boxing or trampoline; No problem, hit the gym kid and don’t worry about school, you don’t need friends from the outside, you have us! Gym people are your family now, plus we’ll get you a tutor so training is all you focus on! LOOOOVVEEE YYOOUUU!

Want to be a runner/sprinter? Peeeerrrrrffffeeeecccccttttt…….

Get the hell out of the car right now! Start running! Oh don’t worry, we won’t leave you behind, but if the Australian Runners can train in the desert and those little Kenyan kids can run from village to village out of necessity thusly making the Olympics as young adults; then your sorry little butt can run out of pride! The pride you are going to bring your father when he receives his Olympic passes in 2016 whoop, whoop (tear in my eye)!! That right kid; so shut your pie hole and start running, we have little time and lots of miles and injuries to get through so WE can make it to the national trials! Oh yeah, give me a hug because daddy thinks your number one!

So there it is, my plan is in place! National exposure, our countries pride along with selfless coaching on my part will bring them to the forefront of the Olympic stage! Thereby ultimately allowing me to perform as an Olympian! Genius, pure genius I tell you!!!

They may hate me for a while but once a Gold medal is around my neck; whoops I mean around their neck (wink, wink)it will all be worth it; right? Yes sir look out NBC’s Today show here we come!!

In closing, later tonight we will stand in front of a mirror while developing our signature “thanking Jesus” ritual!

                                To the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat!!!

 

Art of the lie…

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Art of the lie

I received a very interesting phone message today while traveling down the freeway at 65 mph in a bright green fire engine.  Interesting not with any windfall of knowledge or wealth coming my way. Interesting not in the fact that my wife, who left the message never leaves me messages. (she would rather talk to me personally) No this phone call triggered my curious Spock (Star Trek) one eyebrow lifted facial response for the pure and simple fact it was a lie. 

Now being a parent of four children, teaching the transparency in human nature associated with a lie is of the utmost importance. Nothing brings down fatherly wrath faster than a child caught in a lie.  A reminder that lying brings nothing but ridicule and solitude as no one wishes to be around you is never more prevalent in my household once you have been detained for said infraction. 

But….

There is something to be said about the art of the lie? All lies start out simple enough, the truly gifted can carry them thru lie after lie building upon a story that eventually not even a used car salesmen would buy.  But there are the chosen few, the masters, individuals with special gifts who get it right the first time.  Capturing you with an opening line, reel you in by the lip while never doubting their story for a second! You walk away wowed and in the end, thinking to yourself; I wish my life was as good as that guys! 

These “super liars” have creativity, something so many of us human beings lack these days.  An ability to play out an entire scenario inside their head like a bad romance novel.  Starting at page one the lie is not complete until they have personally closed the imaginary book inside their cranium.  Egomaniacal? Yes! Self centered;? Yes! Able to leave you mesmerized by their charming guiles? Yes! The gifted liar is truly a sight to behold.

Back to the beginning.

After arriving at the hospital to retrieve my crew, I took a moment and withdrew my phone to see who called. Seeing it was in fact my wife I eagerly touched the voicemail button and sat mesmerized as my wife simply stated; So here’s the story, the kids are all running right? And they see a hawk with a kitten in its hand and Cody goes and shoots the hawk out of the air and the kids save the kitten and brought the kitten home. That’s the story…

Thought number one: Cody knows better than to shoot a hawk.

Thought number two: Really the cat lived after falling, how many feet to the ground? Cats have nine lives and I have witnessed my fair share of cats falling from high distances (yes the fire department does get called out for cats in trees, it’s not a myth) but out of the air with nothing to break its fall? Suspicion looms..

Thought number three: Cody is a hell of a shot, but really, a hawk flying away with food trapped in its claws.

Hmmmmm something is definitely afoot.

It turns out our kids found a kitten roaming alongside the road, down the street from our house.  Now since we live in the middle of nowhere, 3/4 of the way down a 2 mile dirt road, odds of it belonging to someone are slim, so our children concocted this farce believing my wife and I would accept the wounded feline, dinner plate survivor into our abode with open arms never once questioning the complexity of their story. 

They were 100% wrooooo—-RIGHT!

After careful discussion, and not wanting to reward a blatant lie, my wife and I chose too privately commend the story telling effort, while publicly reminding the children lying was never acceptable.  Yet the four of them, along with two young family members visiting for the week actually put their heads together thinking about the welfare of this little animal and came up with one fo the best bull pucky stories we had heard in a while from any of their little brains.  Ah the joy of teamwork!

They were outed for the lie, we all laughed heartily at the effort. A true family moment to be remembered and most likely told to grand children someday.

It was only after I hung up the phone, while sitting at my desk waiting for the computer to open up did it dawn on me. 

We just helped them, by awakening their creative story telling skills! It like putting water on a seed once a day, then feeding it tons of sunlight.  Before long it will grow and evolve leading them inevitably to “the art of the lie.”

 

Haiti Mission Trip part 11 The last day

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Friday June 15th 2012

This morning the group is filled with a combination of excitement and sadness.  It’s that feeling you carried with you at the end of summer camp.  Happy to go home yet saddened to no longer be surrounded by these people whom you have become close to in an abnormally short amount of time.  Knowing when you wake up tomorrow the scenery will be completely different. Your feet, your body and soul will no longer encompass this place you called home for the last 8 days. It’s as if you were never there, then you ask yourself; if I come back to this place will it be the same? Will I carry the same feeling of accomplishment and joy currently residing within my being?  Could there ever be another group as wonderful, humorous and caring as ours?

We had our last breakfast, we cleaned up our rooms and many of us left suitcases filled with clothes, shoes and other belongings behind for the church to distribute to its members.  Everything was moved downstairs quietly towards the loading zone as the guest house trucks arrived to cart us away.  Small talk and innocent giggles were had by all.  Before any of us had time to sit and reflect any further it was time to go.  Our final goodbyes, our last au revoir or in Haitian; bay-bay; goodbyes are always miserable.  Some small tears were shed, many blank faces climbed aboard our chariot home. As we pulled away I looked back at our temporary home and sighed.  Many days I was ready to leave, while other days I couldn’t wait for the next challenge and now here I was watching it disappear in my rear view.  Mixed emotions swelled inside bringing tears of joy to my face. 

It only took a few minutes for most to settle down and you could see many reflecting as we rolled along towards the guest house.  Gone were the naïve Americans white knuckling their ride through town, in their place were 10 seasoned mission participants who no longer feared NASCAR style driving, crowded streets, UN personnel, language barriers, and humidity. The further we traveled from Leveque the easier it was to accept our next destination.  The guest house was looking more and more inviting. Yet inside I was already longing to see our new-found friends again.  I knew there would be another mission team in two weeks, then another after that and so on.  Before long the people of Leveque would forget who we were but I was positive they would never forget our contribution.  We had all talked about traveling back to see the finished church, I feel as though this is my next personal mission. 

After 30 minutes we arrived at a dirt road that headed back into the hills; this led up to the mass grave constructed for an estimated 316,000 who perished on January 12, 2010.  We had all declined the offer to see this memorial.  Not out of disrespect mind you, but from exhaustion.  The further we travelled the more we all relaxed and exhaustion was evident on every person inside that bus.  The bus turned anyways and up the hill we traveled.  Letting out a heavy sigh of frustration my mind-set was soon replaced upon arrival to the memorial. 

Where a sloping hillside once stood now lay a football field sized plateau. Of to the left, closer to the original hillside sat a marble monument.  Simple in stature and design, looking upon it you suddenly felt remorse for ever thinking you could drive by this place without stopping.  To get at the memorial you needed to traverse this football field sized area which meant walking over the dead.  Humbling to say the least; the entire area lays in clear view of the ocean with a gentle sea breeze enveloping you where you stand. A picture perfect view for all souls at rest; with my head hung low I made my way back to the bus where I vowed to never look past another’s reflection of the past to meet my own personal needs.

Two hours, lots of sweat, a few bumpy roads and we were back inside the comforts of the guest house.  A facility that when I arrived looked as though it had seen better days, but to me on this day it appeared as though it was the Grand Hilton, the Four Seasons, the Fairmont, it was filled with luxury and comfort. After unloading both vehicles I made my way upstairs to our rooms where immediately the i-phone was plugged back into the world.  After 30 minutes of returning e-mails, sending pictures and catching up on work I found a clean pair of swim shorts and headed to the pool.  

Our entire group was here and after jumping in I realized it was the first time I had actually been cool for 8 days. It was fantastic!  Water, cool water all around my skin, no sweat, no wet clothes, we all swam until our fingers shriveled up.  Many of during the course of discussion joked that when you arrive at the guest house for the first time the pool should be off-limits.  Because you can only truly understand the significance of this little concrete gem after you have sweated your ass off for 8 days! Of course we were only joking, maybe….

After dinner our group was invited into another structure for a debriefing.  We all shared our stories of trial and triumph with the coordinator.  I am sorry to say I don’t remember her name as she was the replacement for Sara who had finished her tenure on this assignment.  It was an excellent way to end our journey as we spoke very highly of the church congregation in Leveque.  We also discovered there have only been a couple of instances when a going away party was thrown for the team. She had heard lots of compliments about our group over the week and was impressed we took the entire building to the ground.  We all left feeling very good about our efforts, knowing we came together as one and performed to the best of our abilities, it was gratifying to say the least. 

As the night wore down we all trailed off to bed.  The 1950’s metal bunk with cotton batted mattress I despised the first night felt like a goose down bed from heaven.  Drifting off to sleep all my brain could focus on was the pride I held inside for our group, the immense fatherly pride I held for my son, the new friendships I now cherished and the thought of hearing my wife’s voice the minute we touched down on American soil tomorrow.  Sleep came quickly…

 

Haiti Mission Trip 2012 part 12 Coming home..

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Saturday June 16th 2012

Bleary eyed and disoriented most of us stumbled around trying to figure out whether we were coming or going.  A nice cool shower, a shave, and a fresh clean pair of clothes for travel, we were one by one getting ready for the long ride home.  Our final breakfast together was filled with prayer, laughter and stories of the past week, a truly fantastic way to end this journey. As we gathered our belongings, purchased our last gifts, distributed passports and documentation, the anticipation of finally being on a plane home started setting in on us all.  Loading up and pulling through the iron gates for the last time I was finally ready to go, ready to be home again.  I had come to this country with a simple goal, tear down a building, with that goal complete; I found myself leaving with so much more, more than I could ever have imagined obtaining from this little tropical island and its people. 

The airport was controlled chaos, people moving you here and there; the same issue we had previously upon arrival in country with baggage handlers reared its ugly head as we unloaded from our bus.  John C took the front, Paul was in the middle and John G and I took up the rear of our group ensuring no one was separated or bags grabbed. A few of us purchased some last-minute gifts before entering the boarding area, while others just made their way upstairs.  The terrace was crowded and hot but at this point no one cared. After an hour we loaded and were finally on our way.  The flight was quiet and uneventful, (except for the reemergence of the corn muffin) most of us were quietly enjoying the in-flight movie, or sleeping.

Landing in Miami the winds were blowing very hard and our arrival was hair-raising to say the least! As we deplaned heading into the terminal there was an indescribable feeling that came with walking on American soil.  There is something to be said about the freedoms we Americans enjoy on a daily basis. It takes experiencing the trials and tribulations of another country to fully grasp this immense gift we have been given, it is the reason people fight and die trying to reach American shores.

We all gathered for one last dinner together before catching the last leg of our travels home. During dinner every one of us was plugged back into society.  8 days with little cell phone use and an abundance of conversation, now with little more than 5 hours left together we all were texting, Facebooking and catching up with family and friends. Cody called his mom the minute we landed in Miami, giving her a short synopsis of his adventures. I called her sometime after that and relished in hearing her voice.  I couldn’t wait to land in SF and see her face.

The 5 hour flight was uneventful and in the blink of an eye we were face to face with loved ones.  Our dear friend Alisa (Maggie’s mom) drove her commuter van down to pick us up. When they pulled up curbside my wife was hanging a welcome home sign out the window! We all hugged saying our last goodbyes as Paul and Mason went their separate ways with family and friends.  Climbing into the van sitting next to my wife for the ride home the whole trip seemed surreal.  A years’ worth of planning, fundraising, meetings the anticipation of going and it was all over, done, we were home. Sharing our stories of adventure with Alisa and my wife Jacy the trip home went very quickly. My body was exhausted; there was a numbness that took over as we made our way to the house at 1 am Sunday morning. 

Hot water! Hot water flowing over my body in copious amounts! Soap and a towel smelling of bleach; the sound of little Parker snoring while Jake sleeps quietly in the bunk above him, being home is grand.  Slipping into a clean shirt and shorts, I stroll downstairs, peek in on Jessica then over to check on Cody finding him completely passed out, his dog Cricket (who he missed more than family) snuggled up to him lying under his arm. I whisper Goodnight son, thank you for coming with me on this great adventure, I love you. Then slowly close his door as Cricket raises an ear at the creaky hinges.  

Climbing into bed, looking at my wife lying next to me sleeping I feel as though I may be the luckiest man alive; a nice house, a soft bed, a woman who loves me, food in my refrigerator, an awesome family, wonderful friends and a great job.  When I left for Haiti my feelings were that of a married man with a wonderful family, yet I didn’t have enough, I wanted more, feeling as though with budget cuts at work, an increased workload (both at work and home) and a severely dwindling income our lives were becoming extremely difficult.  Over ten days I learned what difficult truly was, I also learned how to be happy even content with my life in those same ten days. I learned from emulating my Haitian friends.

A Haitian is thankful for each day

A Haitian is thankful for the food on their plate

A Haitian is thankful for friends and family, willing to do anything at anytime or anywhere for someone in need

A Haitian is thankful for God’s love

A Haitian believes every little moment is a gift from God

A Haitian believes hardship instills belief and all hardships can be overcome with a willing attitude

A Haitian doesn’t know the word can’t

A group of Haitians changed my life forever. I am filled with joy, love and appreciation for all God has blessed me with in this life. For that I can never repay them, I pray for the little group in Leveque and hope one day I can revisit this special place to sit and worship in a brand new church.  A church built with love and devotion from many caring hands who know there are no obstacles that can’t be overcome with God’s help.

And to our church group; the nine of you are amazing human beings. You are all caring, loving, hard-working people who I am very proud to call my friends.  We may not talk everyday, we may only see each other once in a while or only know what the other is up to through Facebook but there is one thing we will share for eternity.  It will bind us till the day we leave this earth.

Haiti

I love you all, thank you for the time of my life.. 

OSHA out…..

 

Haiti Mission Trip part 10: Working on a chain gang…

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Thursday June 14th, 2012

Waking up this morning there was an incredible sense of accomplishment.  Standing at the balcony brushing my teeth gazing upon the remnants of a building.  Its amazing what people can do when they put their minds too it.  Where a large church once stood there now remains nothing but rubble.  A hazard taken to the ground so a new beginning can emerge. 

While finishing up last night it still bothered me the way our combined group began to fall apart once “Bald guy” appeared then started barking orders to the Haitian workers.  Not being one to let things go I cornered Caz asking him questions in regards to the incident hoping it would help me better understand what had happened.  According to Caz; (my interpretation) after the earthquake Bald guy lost some of his family and his home, while others were running about not know what to do, he took it upon himself to start uncovering people trapped in the debris.  He has orchestrated the removal of many earthquake damaged buildings through nothing more than sheer will, muscle and desire.   The workers look up to him because of his reputation; definitely feeling like the right “call” had been made in allowing him to take down the portico, it all made complete sense to me now.  Pride is a powerful thing and this man held enough for our entire crew, and with that I salute you Bald guy.  You were grumpy, slightly mean and unorthodox in your methods but you were completely in the right.

Today we began moving concrete, lots and lots of concrete. The pile closest to the school needs to be replied into the confines set forth by our esteemed project engineer. All of the remaining concrete block covering the church slab needs to be shuttled onto a new site out front.  Making matters worse new cinder block arrived yesterday and half our crew has started working on a new wall surrounding the church.  Half the manpower twice the work and it appears today will be the hottest yet.  Time to buckle down and get to it.

Now moving concrete rubble one piece at a time is very tedious work indeed.  Your mind needs someplace to go as one oversized rock after another is thrown into a pile some 15-25 feet away. When there are only three shovels, three wheel barrows and 13 people, someone is getting their hands dirty.  A few of us took up residence out front slowly throwing one chunk at a time, while others tackled the relocation of the rear pile.  The ones with shovels and wheel barrows took to clearing the pad distributing the mass between both piles.   It was long, slow hot and tedious work. 

Around noon time a few of us were feeling the effects of the abnormally hot day.  Exhaustion from the weeks work combined with knowing just how close we were to finishing began to play mentally with our minds. I drank more water during this one day than all other days combined. Showing the signs of exhaustion there would be no more “slow sipping” for this cat. No sir it was chug a lug all day long! As soon as one water bottle had emptied another was filled than devoured by my ravenous thirst.  Not alone I noticed many of our crew working in 15-20 minutes segments then sitting in the shade for 15-20 minutes.  The “quitter” side of me was working hard on my brain, but my conscience continued to override the thought process. 

Joh G (Hammer) on the other hand was a freaking machine! This guy could not get enough of smashing things with his hammer! I secretly looked up to him for strength, if Hammer was getting up to go work some more than gosh darn it I was too! It felt like an eternity, as though no progress was being made one rock at a time, one shovel full at a time, one wheel barrow full at a time! It had become slightly disheartening.

Spirits crushed, exhaustion ruling my head I decided taking a break from the site was in order.  Spending the whole week working on the building left me at a loss for interacting with the school children.  Something I was looking forward too prior to the trip.  Maggie, Jan, Heather, Anne,Cody and Caz all headed up towards the school for some scheduled classroom time.  Every fiber in my body screamed “go back to work”as I headed up to the school compound! But I knew in my heart I needed to swallow the pride of completion, get out of the sun and go have fun with the children. 

 Entering the classroom it was clear everyone was having a fantastic time.  All of the children were in the throes of making bracelets from string.  Each one of our group was spread around helping children with their projects! One little boy sitting at the table in front of me tapped me on the shoulder showing what an impressive job he had done with his project.  All of them smiled, laughed and generally appeared to be taking the bracelet project quite seriously.  Cody started out quiet as usual but after having Maggie drag him around a few times he started talking with the kids. It was good for him. The boys seem to look up to him and were always confused by his quiet demeanor.

Back at the job site, feeling refreshed, and ready to tackle the mound of mess something occurred to me! It’s funny how being gone for a little while takes you out of the little visionary tunnel you have stuck yourself inside.  The piles were noticeably bigger! The church slab seemed a little cleaner and it appeared maybe, just maybe with a little luck we would get it cleaned up before 3pm today! Our agreed upon goal during lunchtime quickly became; clean the floor off so as we leave the children will have a safe place to play soccer; definitely an attainable goal.

The day was long and hard, but we completed our goal! My estimate would be approximately 25-30 tons of debris moved by hand! The floor was clean for the kids and we all were excited, having accomplished our goal! It also appears there will be a party given in our honor by the community tonight. The community leaders have decided to hold it  right upon the very floor we just cleared! Some teenage kids along with a few adults cleaned it off with buckets of water and brooms made from palm leaves while we all bathed. Speaking of bathing, my last bath was the best bath ever! The water was cool, the warm breeze felt fantastic and I finally took my work shorts off for the last time! These shorts became sort of a running gag, as we started on Friday, they were covered with a thick layer of dirt from the ceiling.  So dirty they were that I puffed my chest out and with a smart ass tone declared them the official work shorts of Haiti! Then boldly declaring they shall be worn everyday until we finish our mission! Of course my little quip was merely to gross out our group and yet they women from cell block C would not let me forget that asinine statement.  So following through with my word, the shorts were worn everyday until Thursday at 4:30 when they hit the bathing room floor for the very last time!  Yes they smelled bad, they had changed color and they practically stood up on their own, but success was mine!

7:00pm

Chairs and church pews are being brought out then placed in a semi-circle on the slab.  A boom box has arrived, lights have been strung up and our generator is at full throttle.  People from all over the neighborhood are arriving and we have been asked to be seated.  Once again Charles says some very kind words in regards to our hard work and dedication.  He leads us all in a prayer and blesses the evenings upcoming activities.  Soon we are entrenched in song, laughter and some of the funniest skits! Its like summer camp with musical chairs and impromptu performances! We are all having the time of our lives! The children sing for us, its beautiful, a young woman sings for us and doesn’t miss a beat when the CD stops playing.  Then a well dressed young man holding a guitar stands up to sing a song to our group but instead turns and sings directly to our Anne!  It was hilarious!  Some of us were pretty sure afterwords an arranged Haitian marriage had just taken place and Anne was “gonna have some splaining to do” when she arrived home with the new hubby!  Earlier in the evening this young man mustered up the courage to give Anne a wonderfully written love letter filled with devotion to her very existence! So we just knew through Haitian song they were now husband and wife!

Many games were played including a chug a lug game involving two 20 ounce bottled Cokes, using no hands.  After watching one Haitian lose to another, reflecting upon my beer drinking days I mumbled to Caz, pretty sure I could have won that contest.  Within minutes Caz relayed this apparent proposal to the powers that be and two new Cokes were acquired for a chug off! Now I can’t lie, I was pretty excited, for after watching the speed at which the winner chugged his Coke, it seemed like an easy win for me! Before pondering the ramifications of actually beating this man, Yalaylay strolled by me slowly, then stopped directly in front of me, smiling as he placed his hands around his own neck to indicate the choking sign.  Wait a minute, I thought, is he smack talking me? Is Yalaylay talking Haitian trash? Oh I am going to beat this guy all right, then I am calling out Yalaylay ! But I didn’t have to wait, I never had to face the previous winner, you see Yalaylay was my challenger and yes he was indeed talking Haitian trash to me! The music stopped, Cokes were placed on the chairs, our hands were placed behind our backs while Madame Lulu counted down, 3-2-1 GO!

From what I have been told I gave it a pretty good go, even holding the lead for a bit, but Yalaylay was the village ringer! A bona-fide champion chugger he beat me by a gulp and a half. The place went nuts! People were laughing and hugging, Yalaylay came over, shook my hand then hugged me with the biggest smile! Through Caz I told Yalaylay I would be back next year to beat him! He welcomed the challenge. 

At the end of the night we were all hugging, tears were being shed, last-minute photographs were being taken.  Goodbyes continued for quite sometime and it was truly the hardest moment of our entire trip. Even Cody had his picture taken with some of the other teenagers.  Saying goodbye to some of the most honest, down to earth, hard-working people I had ever met was very difficult indeed.  They have all been handed a horrible situation and yet they survive with strength drawn from their family unit, the church and a belief that all people are good and it can only get better from here. 

Taking a moment to personally thank a few people, I pulled aside Wilson and Jonas telling them what an honor it had been to work alongside them both.  Jonas’ wife came over handing me her baby, then hugging me while kissing both my cheeks. She did this with many of our people, she was incredibly sweet and honest. Cornering Caz in one of the downstairs rooms to thank him for all his hard work with our group, I handed him our department coin.  Explaining to him the only way one of these can be given away is to someone who is selfless, who puts all others first by exemplifying honor and integrity. He was honored by the gift, humbled by the kind words and I think a little embarrassed even though he received the coin in private.  Caz truly is a remarkable man.  We all pray someday he ends up becoming a translator or official government representative for his country.  He loves this country and its people so much, and it shows through his continuing ability to find ways to make life better for its people. I will miss him, I am very proud to call him friend.

We slowly milled our way back upstairs. Taking an opportunity to share our last night together on the balcony, telling jokes, laughing at Annes’ new husbands expense.  We all hope she keeps the love letter for one day when she finds herself in a relationship that is not working out so well she can pull the letter out, remembering there is someone out there who truly does worship the ground she walks upon. If that person is a world away then there must be plenty of suitors here in the states that will do the same.  You are worth it Anne!

Slowly one by one we all trailed off to bed, knowing in the morning it was breakfast then pack up the trucks for the long ride back to the guest house! Sleep would come very easy tonight..

Haiti Mission 2012 part 7: Raise the roof..

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Monday June 11th, 2012

Last night before going to bed, my 11-year-old called to say hello.  Within seconds there appeared to be tension in our conversation.  When asked about his apparent discontent he slowly started whimpering and within seconds it became a gale force storm of tears.  Jake wanted Cody and I to come home. He cried and through his whimpering, I deciphered he missed us terribly.  I felt helpless, as a father should I suppose; usually when he misses me a short trip to the firehouse will bring quick consolation; returning his normal demeanor. But there was no short trip, no hey buddy I’ll be home tomorrow, instead he is regaled for his bravery being the “man” of the house while his brother and I are away.  After a few moments of pandering to his needs, he calms down.  I miss him, I feel horrible there is no way to comfort him, to hug him and make his fears go away, but slowly he comes around, he pretends to understand.  After a few “I love you’s’ and I’ll be home soon, he giggles slightly when I tell him goodnight. “Goodnight turkey lips” usually works every time and this time was no exception.

The good news? I slept all night! Yep that’s right, soaking sweat, dogs barking, parties next door and all! Nothing a good set of ear plugs (thank you John C) and a few days of mental and physical exhaustion can’t break you down too.  It was fabulous!

Once again we met after another of Madame Lulu’s wonderful meals. Today was a big day for our crew. No more playing around, a full days work lay ahead and there was plenty of work to go around.  After meeting with the crews, discussing the heat index, water intake, our urine output and covering our job site safety bullet points we all set to taking down beams.  The beams ran the length of the building tying the trusses together.  They needed to come down as one piece, all roughly 90-100 feet of them. There were five  beams on each side of the building.  Slowly we started unbolting then cutting away the supports.  With one person per truss holding the beams in place after each was cut away we would slowly slide them down the apex of the truss until they reached the edge, then let them drop to the ground where an awaiting crew would systematically cut the unions and stack them for recycling.

Amazing is a understament when describing the well oiled machine that had become our crew.  Working together, sweating together, accomplishing big goals in a very short period of time.  I know I have said it many times but the human spirit, is an inspiring thing to behold.  By lunch the beams were gone and we were ready for trusses.

truss/trəs/
Noun:
A framework, typically consisting of rafters, posts, and struts, supporting a roof, bridge, or other structure: “roof trusses”.

The trusses were a little trickier. The needed to have all supports tying them together cut. Ropes were then tied to the peak, applying tension from either direction for stability; then with John C on one wall and me on the opposing wall we would simultaneously cut away the ties that attached the trusses to the cinder block wall allowing the rope crews to slowly lower the trusses peak onto the floor.  Once the peak hit the floor another rope was tied to an upright end formerly attached to the wall and with a great big pull the truss would slide diagonally down the cinder block wall until it fell onto the floor.  Once on the floor the crews would make quick work of cutting the truss in half, removing it from the building then stacking it neatly outside for recycling.

By 3pm/15:00 there were all but three trusses left.  It filled us with a great sense of accomplishment.  At the end of the day we gathered our group to thank everyone for working so hard and staying safe.  We had Caz tell the Haitian crew how honored we were  to work alongside them and how we looked forward to another safe productive day on Tuesday.

Today, being our first full day of work I also fully understood why we quit working at 3pm.  The heat! The humidity and heat hits a high around 3.  Its stifling to say the least.  For anyone who is not acclimated to this type of heat feels like a Sahara death sentence to say the least.  After today I never once thought about 3pm being an idiotic time to stop work again.

The kids are back, a soccer game is afoot.  Bubbles continues to be the phrase of choice as Paul once again takes time to play with the smaller children.  Mason is also surrounded after every soccer game.  They are teaching him Haitian-Creole, he is taking notes and trying his very best to understand what they are saying.  The interaction between our two cultures is fantastic.

Everyone worked very hard today. Watching Maggie, Cody, Caz and Marcanie pull on trusses, then tear them apart after they hit the ground was pretty cool.  Jan, Heather and Mason were troopers carrying off all the scrap metal. The entire crew continues to inspire me every minute of every day.  Everyone has a job and even if they have never done anything like the task they have adopted all of them sure look as though they know what they are doing.  They are fantastic human beings, with great spirits inside them.  Once again the day is finished and as I sit in my chair atop the balcony quipping one joke after another with these people I feel as though I am surrounded by family.

Speaking of family I am calling my wife tonight. I miss the sound of her voice more than I can describe.  Its one thing to be away from each other while still communicating every night or even several times a day. Its completely different when you are not able to speak with her for days.  I find myself praying she picks up the phone, and though there is doubt, after all her schedule is very busy tonight; I pray for only a minute or two, just hearing her voice will be all the revival I need to carry on for a few more days.

The phone rings………

 

Haiti Mission Trip 2012 part 4: Dust in the wind…

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Dust in the wind…

Inside the church had a simple layout, one main hall, a dividing wall with a “pastors” chamber to the rear.  The inner walls were constructed with standard grade two by fours sheeted with (4×8) plywood; the entire ceiling was also covered with plywood, painted and set with a ½ inch trim plate.   I had brought one of my spare tool belts for just such an occasion.  Laden with a single jack, hammer, crows foot and pry bar, I quickly set to peeling trim while John G, took to making a purchase point for the ceilings plywood.  Our entire group looked like a WWF wrestling cage match, all circling the ring waiting for someone to “tap” them into the fight!  Two days of travel and unspent energy were waiting to wreak havoc upon this old building.  John G and I were able to clear an entire span of trim work allowing us the advantage of exposing corners of the plywood for prying.  Together with an inch gap on either end of our first board we gave it the old heave ho on the count of three.  (Now is that 1, 2, 3 or 1 and 2 and 3, or do we just go on 3?) This Lethal Weapon quote/play on words would haunt us for the duration of the trip. 

The board came down unexpectedly easy, along with 62 years of dirt! Within seconds it was black as night inside the building and everyone was scrambling for fresh air.  John and I both simply placed shirts over our mouths, braced for the tornado then stood still until the room cleared.  Laying eyes upon each other we both started laughing.  Covered from head to toe with an easy inch of dirt, we both resembled “Pig pen” from the peanuts.  The dirt fueled our fire and after acquiring a few dust masks the ceiling started coming down rather quickly.  We formed two teams on either side of the room taking down plywood, framing and roof supports all while other members cleared debris.  Everything that came out of the building was placed into neat piles for recycling later.  Nothing goes to waste here, if it can be reused somewhere else it’s either put to use immediately or hauled off to someplace else for distribution. 

A work day on the job site consisted of working from 0800-1500 with an hour off for lunch.  When informed of this my inner, self-centered workaholic, could not believe it! How will we get any work done in six hours I asked myself?  I would learn in time there was a reason for this modified work schedule and it had absolutely nothing to do with how much work one could accomplish. (i’ll discuss this revalation later)

We had arrived late on Friday afternoon starting work around 1300 and by quitting time (1500) the entire inside of the structure was stripped bare! Nothing left but four walls, steel trusses and a tin roof overhead.  It was exciting to say the least, everyone was pumped!  It was our first moment working together as a team, and we succeeded! Everyone was feeling a sense of accomplishment, which was a great moral boost after the last 24-30 hours.

Mason had pulled out his Nikon camera and started taking pictures right away.  At first I was a little bothered by this action since there was work to be done.  But after 15-20 minutes of watching this young lad with his camera, I realized it was selfish of me to think this way.  Mason held an obvious passion for taking pictures, this proved to be invaluable during our trip.  Someone once told me everyone has a “purpose” that purpose may not be immediately evident, and it may not be what you wish it to be, but if you pay close attention in time it will reveal itself.

 Mason’s purpose ended up being two-fold, one he became our official recorder with his outstanding photographic skills and the second part was his uncanny ability to relate one on one with all the children.

 While most of us traveled up to our second story perch, figuring out how tomorrow would unfold while trying to knock dirt from our clothes; Mason was already introducing himself to the local children.  His camera was an instant tool of acceptance.  He would take their pictures, showing them afterwards; this of course tickled the children greatly! This action became his personal bliss, these children where his muse; that was until a soccer ball appeared.  Futbol’ or soccer as we refer to the game is the nation’s favorite sport.  Our team was quite prepared for this fact with Mason and Paul’s church donating quite a few sporting goods for the trip.  Of course that meant soccer balls.  The minute a soccer ball hit the dirt children from all over came running to play.  This would end up becoming a nightly routine. Work ended, soccer began, and Mason would play the game of his life every night to gleeful smiles of many a child, and Caz as well….

Paul also held a disarming charm that resonated within the community! He would walk where he wanted when he wanted introducing himself to everyone. A personality trait I actually envied. At one point Paul hauled out some toys to share with the children. Two bubble blowing guns appeared and within minutes, from the second story balcony bubbles rained down upon the children like snowflakes.  This of course was accompanied by Paul yelling at the top of his lungs “BUBBLESSSSSSS”.  The children laughed, danced and chased the little soapy spheres, all while screaming “BUBBLESSSSS” in return.  Paul had an immense amount of positive spirit and energy!  We teased him for this, but it was all in good fun.  In reality some of us secretly wished we could harness some of his incredible power to use for ourselves.  Paul actually made a statement that nothing could deplete his endless bounty of energy and enthusiasm. (Not his exact words) This would be tested during the week. 

Maggie as Mason also had a way with children. She wandered downstairs and was quick to fall in love with the small children; it appeared the feelings were mutual.  There was something about Maggie’s name that led to children saying it over and over again.  It became quite humorous. Every night after the first night you could hear off in the distance some small child sweetly, quietly, saying “Maagggiiiieeee”.

 As we sat in our chairs overlooking the work site a combination of sweat and dirt pooled at our feet. (Have I mentioned yet that it is really hot here?) The word came a shower area was arranged for us on the second story of the adjoining building.  John, John, Cody and I strolled over with our solar showers to set them up and prepare the room for a barrage of dirty people.  The room was an intended shower room with tiled basin and drain.  Next to the basin sat a 50 gallon drum filled with water and a small container to draw water from the barrel.  We filled one of the solar showers and the three of us with Cody standing on Johns shoulders set to hanging the bag for use; once accomplished we also hung a curtain across the open doorway, a veil attempt at privacy from the house directly behind the structure. It was a perfect set-up! A little home away from home, except for one thing; the shower never really worked with the mass amounts of dirt and sweat stuck to our bodies. Nothing short of a pressure washer was removing that gunk! All gave it a try, and everyone (including yours truly) came back regaling the therapeutic values of just dumping a half-gallon, cool bucket of water over your body after a hot, hard day’s work.

After all had showered we were called to dinner by Madame Lulu.  Circling the table like hungry vultures, John C. settled us down by having us hold hands while he led us in prayer.  Madame Lulu spread out her arms, welcoming us to our dining experience with a warm Bon Apatite!  Having never tasted Haitian cuisine previous to this trip, I was pleasantly surprised by the fare we had dined upon at the guest house.  But I am here to say very proudly that; Rachel Ray, Emeril Lagasse, and Bobby Flay have nothing, and I mean NOTHING on Madame Lulu!  The woman is a goddess in the kitchen! To make things even more impressive she does it all with nothing more than some simple canned good, seasonings, frozen meat and a propane converted oven/stove that we carried up two flights of stairs and placed inside our temporary dining room.  No million dollar kitchen, no stainless counters, no kitchen aid cooking utensils. Just some simple utensils, a table, a few bowls and one stove! It was fantastic, it was heavenly, and for eight days her cooking was the center of many discussions. What is she going to be cooking tonight? There is no way she can top last night? But she did, she would, and we all loved her for it!

The night ended with some light conversation about the upcoming day along with some devotional time.  During devotional time, John C. asked us to recount three things.  What we liked about today? What we didn’t like about today? And where we had seen God today? 

There were a number of wonderful responses. I remember feeling at ease with the people who surrounded us; blessed by the souls sitting in this circle of trust. Cody was quiet; I believe he’s trying to figure out his place on this strange adventure. Thank goodness he’s formed a bond with Miss Maggie, Heather, Anne and Jan.  They keep him laughing and he returns the favor on a consistent basis.

It had become my turn to answer these three little questions.

  1. What did I like about today? We were finally here after months of planning. All the anticipation of traveling to this land far away and I couldn’t wait to see what unfolded over the next several days.
  2.  What didn’t I like about today? Emotions; overwhelmed by all we had seen up to this point. I thought I was prepared; I studied online and read until my eyes crossed.  Some nights I felt as though Television static was all that buzzed through my brain. 
  3. Where had I seen God?  I had seen God in the faces of all who came together today.  10 individuals who never worked on a project together, combined with 5 Haitians who didn’t know what to expect from us Americans and yet somehow, language barrier and all, we gelled together for one combined purpose.  Destroy an unsafe building furthering the town of Leveque towards building a new safe temple devoted to worship.  Really quite moving when you sit back and think about it?

As the night grew thin, we all sat on the balcony talking, texting, writing, reading and playing games on our phones.  It was nice, very family like when you think about it.   No one could run off and hide like back at home. No television to dull your senses and turn off your ability to interact with others; Just our twelve (Caz & Marcanie included) all sitting in a line, on a balcony, with our feet up, laughing, joking and regaling each other with our own little triumphs during the day.

Heaven is truly where you find it. 

Goodnight Johnboy….