The Life and Times of the Mangine Many

On a lighter note...

2012-05-29T12:02:00.001-04:00

This past weekend was Haitian Mother's Day. We decided to bring 11 out of 12 of our kids to English church with us in the afternoon since our little Mother's Day party was out at the land in Raymond before that.
That probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Believe it or not, trying to supervise 11 kids at the beach and keep them quiet while attending church with 47 other ex-pats and visitors wasn't that fun for me.

This lead me to comment to Nick, "We are totally not adding anymore children to our family. Twelve is enough. And DEFINITELY no more babies."

Our friend Stephen overheard us and said, "Um, I think you guys probably took care of that baby thing when Nick had his vasectomy years ago."

Nick just rolled his eyes at Stephen and sort of laughed-sighed, "Friend, that was NINE kids ago..."

****

He has a point.

Orphan tourism

2012-05-29T10:44:00.000-04:00

So, Nick and I have had this ongoing dialog for the past several weeks (months? years?) about what I call "orphan tourism." We would define "orphan tourism" as the using of "orphans" as an asset to obtain visitors and, in doing so, obtain funding, (or other assets) for an orphanage. These thoughts have been brewing in my soul for a while now, but it's a hard thing to talk about, because, well, as the now-mother to 10 orphaned/abandoned children (fully believing that God placed these specific kids in our specific family), it's hard to make judgments about how others are called to help orphans.

HOWEVER, last week I read THIS ARTICLE about Cambodia's Orphan Business. (Pause now to read the article...) And I started to really feel some marked discomfort about the idea of short-term teams coming to serve at orphanages. I know this will rub some of my friends and readers wrong, but yeah, I do think it fuels the cycle of abandonment. I also have big concerns about the impacts (related to attachment) that come from children (who already have abandonment issues) forming relationships with short-term visitors who leave over and over and over again. I don't think it's healthy and I believe it could hinder the ability of these children to form significant attachments later in life.

These are not new thoughts-- they are thoughts that lead us years ago to develop a child protection policy for our home (even before we started accepting children into our home) that includes very limited, controlled access to our children for visiting teams. Also specified in this policy are the parameters for what we believe to be appropriate and non-appropriate touching for our children. This includes team members not being permitted to pick up or hug our children, etc. Seems harsh to some who feel like they want to show love to orphans, but yeah, we believe that it is in the best interest of our children to not have to go through relationship forming/separation over and over and over again because of our decisions to host visitors.

In the past three years, Nick and I have learned more about attachment, RAD, bonding, poverty, the business of orphans, the funding (or lack of funding) for orphanages, the ease with which someone can abandon a child in Haiti, the lack of after-care/counseling for all members of the adoption triad, cultural implications of transracial adoption, international adoption, cross-cultural adoption, the lack of orphan/abandonment prevention, poverty-orphans, short-term teams and orphan tourism, etc, etc, etc... All of these factors (plus a zillion more) make us NOT SURE of where we stand on orphan care as a whole-- I mean sure, we believe there is a spiritual directive for us to care for orphans. We can probably all agree on that part.

How to accomplish it? Well, that's more complicated.

Just last night Nick and I spent some more time talking about this issue, and then this morning there was THIS POST on the Livesay blog. I would encourage you to read it, because it explains (a lot more eloquently than I can) some of the ethical issues with orphan care around here.

Not sure how to wrap this up, as this is certainly not the end of the discussion... just the beginning really. Would love to hear feedback-- I know that my thoughts on this topic are not fully formed and that I'd benefit from further exploring others' ideas. While at this moment, I support the ideas I shared above, I reserve the right to change my mind as I learn and experience more.

Finally, I don't want this to seem like a condemnation on the individuals/groups that chose to serve orphanages in a manner different than we do. I love this quote from Maya Angelou-- "When you know better you do better."

May we all be on the path to and in the process of "knowing better" so that we can all "do better."
####

PS-- Tons of references on this idea can be found by simply googling the term: "orphan tourism."

iPhone pics + commentary

2012-05-28T12:08:00.000-04:00

Downloaded some pics from my iPhone to my computer. I do that every now and then. It's always funny to see what I took pictures of. Thought I'd share a few...

One day last week at the jobsite on our land one of the Haitian workers had this book and was using it to "learn English." Check out the title and subtitle. Also interesting to note that it had some of the regular stuff like "Hello" and "My name is_______." But then it also had a section about how to tell Haitians that hell is filled with eternal burning fire. Because, you know, if you're learning "beginning, BEGINNING Creole," that seems like an important phrase to know. *sigh* Come ON! (I was channeling my inner Gob for that last sentence.)

I might have found my solution to not really enjoying schooling my kids. If we instruct Nia, and then making her "homework" teaching the boys... And she really likes to be in charge. Hmmmm. Might be onto something here. ;)

Speaking of Nia, I came out of my room this morning and she had veiled herself for eating her share of the donated soy protein-enriched rice. Not sure what that was all about.

Josiah proves that hair ribbons are not just for girls. They can make you look like a really fierce Karate Kid too.

My friend Sarah (who is Canadian) introduced us to poutine. According to her, it's the ONLY Canadian dish. Here's a link to a recipe, but it's basically french fries smothered with mozzarella cheese and brown gravy. Given the fat and calorie content of this dish and the American propensity towards obesity, I am ASTOUNDED that the Canadians thought of this before the Americans did. It is DELISH. Perfect with a Prestige, or 4.

We have this little Karaoke microphone that you plug into your TV. It has like 25 songs on it (and no way to download more) but it is a riot. The quality is terrible, we known almost none of the songs, and they have really weird background images while you are singing (like, for example, a photo of "Big Ben" for the background of the song New York, New York.) But man, that doesn't stop us from playing with it nearly daily. Nick can do a rousing "Stand By Your Man" and, I don't mean to boast, but I think I give the late Whitney Houston a run for her money when I perform "The Greatest Love of All." We totally need to download some Karaoke software and have PPK party (Poutine, Prestige and Karaoke.)

That's all for now.

Thanks for reading.

The wedding.

2012-05-21T16:45:00.000-04:00

Kameta (Edwinson's mom) is getting married next Saturday and I am the wedding godmother and Nick is the wedding godfather. Now. Let me first say that when you are white in Haiti, you often find yourself as the godmother/father. And I don't usually agree to be the godmother unless it's someone I have an actual relationship with.

We've had quite the journey with Kameta and her son, Edwinson. It has not always gone well. In fact, a lot of times it went really bad. I will not get into details, but believe me when I tell you, she was making some REALLY destructive choices. More than once I have thrown up my hands in defeat.

However, few months ago she came to me and told me that she had accepted Christ into her life and was convicted that she should get married to her boyfriend, Jephte, with whom she was living. Jephte is the father of Kameta's second child and while not biologically related to Edwinson, has taken him in and loved him as a son. Jephte had also made the decision to trust Christ with his life. Nick and I were ecstatic for them because, unlike all the other times in the past, we could see a genuine change in Kameta's life. Christ in her continues to be evident.

So when she came to us and asked us to be the marenn/parenn of the wedding, we agreed.

Just so you know (and as we are finding out), that kind of obligates you to do a lot of stuff with the wedding. I *sort of* had an idea about what I was getting myself into, but yeah, not really.

It's been a busy time of preparation, like it always is for a wedding. But it also included us pushing a bit to get the shelter on the land finished by this-coming weekend, because that's where the wedding will be. Kameta lives in a camp and goes to church in a camp. She wanted to get married, well, not in a camp. And so Nick and I put a rush on the Church on the Beach pavilion.

Mostly because, well... if you lived in this muddy tent camp for a year--

and then moved up the road to this camp of semi-permanent houses, that's now turning into a slum--

Wouldn't you want a change of scenery for your wedding day?

Don't you think that this backdrop would do very nicely?

It's always been our prayer that the land in Raymond would be able to be used by the community and that it would be a blessing to "the least of these."

Pushing to get this shelter finished and make this wedding nice has taken a lot of our time/energy lately. And, to be quite frank, Kameta has kind of turned into a Bridezilla at times. It hasn't always been enjoyable to work on this wedding.

But come Saturday, this man and woman will take each other by the hand and make a life-long commitment-- for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health...

And we want to support her in every way we possibly can because, (Bridezilla moments notwithstanding), I think that Kameta and Jephte probably already have a better idea of what those vows really mean than many people I know. For this couple's life experiences have shown them that they will often live in the worse, in the poorer, in sickness.

Keep them in your prayers as they make and strive to keep these vows.

I can't wait to share pictures!

I am probably about to get a lot of hate mail, but...

2012-05-19T21:50:00.000-04:00

Ok-- this is probably going to be an unpopular opinion, but I am feeling stirred up by this and I feel like someone needs to say it.

For months now there's been news coverage about a para-military army in Haiti that is not sanctioned by the Haitian government. Here are some of the cliff notes from articles I've read about this group.

They could have up to 3,500 members.
They are made up of former military members (the Haitian military was disbanded in 1995) as well as new recruits.
They have guns.
They have vehicles.
They do regular training.
They surrounded the Parliament building with gunmen in mid-April to demand the return of the Haitian military.
They have been repeatedly ordered by (government officials) to disband and clear out of old army bases.
They made a deadline of May 18 (yesterday) for President Martelly to officially reinstate them as the military, "or else."
They formed a protest near the National Palace yesterday that started peacefully but ended in violence and the detainment of about 50 people, including 2 Americans who were allegedly driving members of the rouge army for the protest, as well as wearing clothing like the members of the "army."
One of the Americans detained admits that he is "friends" with people in the group and that "they are working for the betterment of the country."
A group of North American people came to the police station to bring insulin to one of the Americans detained, and themselves became detained (not arrested) overnight in the lobby of the police station, as police wanted to question them about connections to the original American detainees.

There are dozens of unfortunate things about this situation. And I feel badly especially for the people who were coming to visit to provide medicine and found themselves detained.

HOWEVER.

Haiti is a real country. It has real laws. It has a real government. A lot of people don't like these laws. A lot of people don't like this government. But it is a real government.

As I understand Haitian law, anyone can be held (ie. detained) in Haiti for up to 90 days for questioning without being charged so that an investigation can happen. A couple of months ago I had an American friend (who is also a Haitian resident) held overnight (not arrested, but held) on the suspicion that she had kidnapped her daughter. (She has been in the adoption process for a long time.) Court happened. The situation got worked out. She was released. She ended up with big legal bills. It was really unfortunate, especially because she hadn't done anything "wrong."

But just because we are American and we have due process in America, doesn't mean that we are entitled to due process elsewhere. When we live in (or travel to) Haiti, we are then under Haitian authority and we need to follow the laws there. That means that innocent people are sometimes going to be held.

Haiti does not have a system like we do in America for being let out on bail. If you need to question someone, you need to HOLD them, or you will likely LOSE them. Fair? Well, not in our American minds. But in this case, these people were not in America.

So in this case- American people were (allegedly) driving around and offering support to a group that has been ordered by the government to disband. This group (as we discussed earlier) has weapons and vehicles and no one knows how they are being funded. These Americans allegedly took part in a violent protest in which dozens of people were arrested. From what has been reported, these two people were almost certainly breaking the law here in Haiti. The word "terrorism" has even come up in articles.

Now. Bear with me for a minute here.

If I was in America and was known to be supporting a terrorist organization, I'd totally be arrested. And anyone that came to visit me in prison would likely be tracked by the FBI, the CIA, as well as other local/state/federal government agencies. They would begin an investigation.

Haitians do not have access to the same kind of resources that we do in most of North America. They just don't. For example, I was recently told by a Haitian police officer that most PNH (Haitian National Police) only work with one or two bullets in their guns because THAT IS ALL THEY HAVE. How can we possibly expect an investigation to take just a few minutes when here in Haiti, there is not the ability to track that person and bring them in for more questions later?

I understand that the people coming in to bring medication to their friend who happened to be detained have probably done nothing wrong. But given the circumstances, I don't think it's wrong for the police to investigate. And unfortunately, that means detaining people who are probably innocent of wrong doing. And that might take a while. That's just the way things go here. Time is valued differently. Waiting is a part of the game in Haiti. (For Pete's sake, I had to bring Nia to the eye doctor last week and I waited in line for SEVEN hours to see the doctor.)

I know that this "soapbox rant" will likely come back to bite me in the butt someday. I know that it's not a matter of if I will ever be detained here, but when. And I hope I have the same kind of logical attitude about it then, because, like it or not, that's the law under which I have chosen to live. I do not have rights that supersede the rights of Haitian people. No one in the government begged me to come here. And no one is saying I can't leave whenever I want. (Unless I get detained... then I can't leave whenever I want. ;)

Just my 2 cents. (Or like 222 cents...)

outdoor fresh and other misnomers

2012-05-16T15:45:00.000-04:00

I love my new washing machine. I mean, yeah, it's kind of still a ton of work as we (read: Nick) need to lug about 50 gallons of water per load. (I, at least, fill the buckets.)

But still. It's great. Like SO great.

I brought in some Tide PODS from the states as well as some Bounce fabric sheets, and I actually kind of roll around in my sheets/towels/laundry when they come out of the dryer because it smells SO good. Nia does this too. She loves the smell as much as me, or possibly more. I stick the used fabric sheets inside her pillow case to keep the scent longer.

The other day I was looking at the boxes of detergent/fabric softener and I thought-- wow, those are RIDICULOUS names for fragrances.

The fragrance of the Tide is "Ocean Mist."

Dude. Ocean mist is not what I want my clothes smelling like. Especially not low-tide ocean mist. Fishy clothes anyone?

And the Bounce-- Outdoor Fresh.

Clothes dried outside don't feel fresh to me. They feel stiff and hard and scratchy and stretched out. If it starts raining while clothes are on the line they stink, even after they dry.

I have had the real outdoor fresh for the past three years. I am more than ready to embrace my "Indoor Fresh (Not Ocean Misty)" clothes.

Linking you

2012-05-11T07:22:00.001-04:00

What if we used our mommy energy for kids that need mommies instead of hating on other mommies?

If there was ever a blog post I think moms should read, it's this one.

The great schooling challenge

2012-05-10T10:18:00.002-04:00

One of the struggles we face here is schooling our kids. We've tried pretty much every option-- from homeschooling, to a private Haitian tutor(s), to Haitian school, back to homeschool...

Nothing has really clicked.

I wish I loved homeschooling my kids. But the truth, I do not. I like it on certain days. But I don't like it on most days and the littlest thing can throw us off our groove.

Then there's the topic of curriculum. We had found one we liked for Nia (Switched on Schoolhouse) but when her computer crashed, we lost all her work for the semester, plus there was no quick way to fix it-- waiting weeks on the part we needed. I am leery of using their internet option, because, well, our internet is very unreliable and slow on it's best days. So it seems like a book-based curriculum might be better? I just don't know. Curriculum is so dang expensive that it seems that picking one is a daunting task. But doing the "mix and match" option seems more daunting here, where we do not have the option to easily try/borrow/buy other materials.

We have an appointment to see a French school in Jacmel next week. It better addresses some of the security concerns we had with their last Haitian school and our kids could graduate with an actual French diploma (as if they had gone to school in France), which seems a better option than a Haitian diploma. ???

We have entertained the thought of having an intern come down who would want to school our kids, but honestly, I have heard of very few stories of good interns in Haiti. I have heard a lot of stories of bad interns who: fall in love here and are only interested in their Haitian boyfriend, find something (ie another ministry) they are more passionate about and aren't interested in doing their job, poorly represent the organization/family in their conduct, or just are not a good fit for the organization/family and really don't want to do the job they were brought down to do. Over. And over. And over again. Not to mention we don't have a place to house an intern and living with us is JUST NOT AN OPTION. Our house is busting at the seams with 18 people (in 6 bedrooms) as it is.

But I am just not sure. I really don't want to send them out to school if I don't feel comfortable with their security/substance of their education just because I hate homeschooling. I really don't want the drama/work of an intern just because I hate homeschooling. Could I grow to love homeschooling? I love my kids and their education is important to me, but I just don't know what to do. Could the very fluid demands of our job/life ever adjust so I could get on a regular schedule that would provide us with good life rythyms?

Would love to hear feedback from people who were initially skeptical about homeschooling and grew to love it or grew to hate it more. Also interested in feedback from people who are in Haiti who have found good success with a specific curriculum here.

Thanks friends.

Isn't that the point?

2012-05-07T19:45:00.000-04:00

I have been thinking about how sometimes when people are going through a hard time, others (theoretically, well-meaning others) will say, "God will never give/allow more than you can take."

Holy smokes.

That is crap.

There have been at least 4 times in my life (just off the top of my head) where I was given more than I could bear. And I am sure I am not the only one.

Just ask someone who has been through a major scare with a child, has lost a child, been raped, been robbed, been kidnapped, been through a natural disaster, been through a divorce, been severely depressed, been cheated on by their spouse, been a slave to addiction, done something destructive that they WISH they could take back but they just can't. And on, and on, and on.

There have been times where life is more that we can bear.

But isn't that the point?

The truth is, whether we get to our human breaking point on this earth or not (and I would argue we all will get there at some point) we have ALL reached our the spiritual breaking point before we even knew we were in a relationship severed from God. Romans 3:10 tells us that there is NO one who is righteous (read: right before God), NO NOT ONE. None of us, on our own strength or of our own will/drive/stubbornness can be right before the Lord.

That is, aside from the love of Christ.

May we all embrace the fact that being on this earth means that we are experiencing more than we can bear. And may we fall fully on the only one who can bear our burdens, our Lord Jesus Christ.

Nick's "freestyle" photos

2012-05-05T14:53:00.002-04:00

Since Nick adapted to his model role so well, he decided to go out on his own a bit and try a few unscripted poses.

Don't worry, this is the last of them.

Please shower before using the pool...

Untitled.

All gritty with sand...

On the edge of infinity. (The infinity pool, that is.)

Homemade Dominican Fantasy Photos

2012-05-04T22:48:00.001-04:00

I will be brief for my introduction as the photos speak for themselves. We were staying in Boca Chica this past several days at a resort there. One of the options was to buy their fantasy photos.... you'd hire them to take pics of your family or you or whatever and then you buy them. They were PERSISTENT to say the least-- and their display photos were really, really redonk.

So we thought we'd spend the last morning of our vakay, recreating (on our own) some of these special scenes. We snuck photos of THEIR display photos and set off to work. We spent $8 on sunglasses and $7 on a hat (which we left for the maid.) It took about 30-45 minutes of shooting, and then a couple of hours of editing, but here they are.

Each set of two is first the ACTUAL Dominican fantasy photo. The second in each set is OUR version of the fantasy photos.

Standing casually in front of a boat.

Tile sunglass refections...

Sensual beach layout.... (WHO LAYS OUT LIKE THAT???)

Young spirited beach modeling

Pouty teenager beach modeling

Tourist gak beach modeling.

Beach Yoga.

Napping on a comfortable palm tree.

Smokey Eyes

Throwing caution to the wind!!!!

The sultry silhouette

Hope you enjoyed our photos as much as we enjoyed taking them. Nick is a rockstar with incredible self-confidence to do this in front of a beach full of people. Stay tuned tomorrow for some of our "free style modeling" that we'd like to suggest to the Domincan Fantasy Photo Shop.

Sign FAIL

2012-05-02T16:46:00.002-04:00

It's okay to suspend your family trapped in a box.

It's not okay to suspend your family in a box and light them on fire.

And it's not okay to smoke.

White whine- Vacation drama.

2012-05-01T12:08:00.000-04:00

If you've been reading for a while, you know that my husband, the dashing and talented Nick Mangine, is pretty much the most patient guy God ever created. He has an amazing capacity to roll with crap day in and day out. So you can know that yesterday was really bad, and not just my usual griping, with this statement (made towards the end of the day) yesterday-- "Experiences like this really put the fear of hell in me. Because it is possible that hell is something like staying on this bus for eternity."

It started at 2:30 AM. We woke up (well, enough to hit snooze once or twice) and were out the door by 3AM. The trip over the mountain into Port went well. We figured we be in Port at the bus station to head to the DR for our vacation by 6:30 or 7. We didn't need to be there until 8, but given the recent 6 hour trip to the airport from Jacmel due to protests/roadblocks in Carrefour, we didn't want to take any chances.

We got to Carrefour by about 5:30AM, headed onto the bypass and hit a roadblock. There was a big truck blocking the road and some burning tires. Nick said he thought he could get around it, but Edit was pretty convinced that wasn't going to be a good idea. I told him that I had driven through some roadblocks the other day with little problem and he told me that he went to Port on Friday for a funeral and passed a location where they had just burned and killed two people who tried to cross the roadblock. That seemed far-fetched to me, but since he knew his way around Carrefour, Nick just switched with him and we dozed while he looped around side streets, getting us to the bus station at around 7AM.

As we waited for the bus, we got eaten alive by mosquitoes-- so much so that I grabbed the fleece blanket out of my suitcase that I brought in case the bus was cold. I wrapped up to protect myself from the malaria-carrying bloodsuckers and couldn't keep it around me for more than a minute or so because it had a noticeable wet dog stench to it. I had pulled it from the linen closet that morning, so I was mildly surprised, but not entirely surprised because my kids are often borrowing blankets and sheets from the clean clothes to make forts. Sometimes they end up on the ground. Either that or our helper hasn't washed it in a while and just folded in and put it back in the cabinet... as she's been known to do with our sheets. But I digress.

We loaded the bus without much drama. It was FREEZING cold and there was this suspicious dead animal smell coming from somewhere around me, but I figured that was better than too hot with a dead animal smell, right? We took off and within two hours we were already at the Dominican border.

During that time, I finally looked at the website on my phone for the resort we're staying at (I don't allow myself to get excited too far in advance because of our history of failed vacation attempts.) I was a bit put off to learn that the town we're staying in (and possibly this specific resort as well) were the center for sex tourism/trafficking in the Domincan. But according to the websites, as long as you didn't go out at night, you were probably okay. (Phew.)

I don't exactly know what the trouble was, but it took us over four hours to cross the border. At one point I asked the bus attendant what the holdup was. She said, "Genyen blokis." (There's a traffic jam.)

Um, duh.

I was feeling grumpy because according to the bus website, we should have arrived at the bus station in Santo Domingo at 3PM and it was already past 2:30 by the time we crossed the border. Still, it was a mere 70 miles (ish) to the bus stop from there. Why it took another 5 hours, that I cannot say. Maybe it's because there are speed bumps every 10 seconds. Maybe it's because we had to stop to check the tires. Maybe it's because the bus didn't go very fast. But whatever the reason, it was cold and bumpy. I found myself wishing for the wet-dog-smelling blanket that was packed in my luggage underneath the bus (I didn't carry it with me because of my concerns over the smell.) The bathroom started making the bus smell worse and worse as the hours ticked by. Carsickness set in. Believe me, the dead animal smell and the bathroom door opening and closing wafting the urine scent our way didn't help. They guy across the aisle from us blasted music from his computer the WHOLE ride-- a compilation of Haitian karnaval music and Celine Dion. Celine Dion is REALLY popular in Haiti. (I mean, according to her, she IS the best singer in the world, so that's understandable.) The music was so loud that we couldn't watch the movies on the bus movie system, but that didn't matter anyway, since it was 4 movies-- three of which were in French, including a kung fu movie and Big Mama's House-- made us more carsick. That took up about 6.5 hours. Then, instead of starting the films again, they let us pass the next 5 hours watching the intro to charter buses on loop over and over and over. I know how to adjust my seat really well right now though, so I am not saying it was entirely useless. (Snark alert.)

We arrived in Santo Domingo a bit green from carsickness at about 7:30pm (a mere 11.5 hours after we'd boarded the bus). We got off to a pool of taxi drivers and we told the first one in line that we wanted to go to our resort in Boca Chica. He said okay and walked us over to the pool of taxis waiting at the curb. It was immediately obvious why he wasn't waiting near his taxi. It was one of those "mini buses" and by mini I mean really, really mini. Still, there was plenty of room for Nick and I and our bags. We loaded up, agreed on a price and were on our way. The seatbelts and AC didn't work, but that wasn't a problem because it was already dark and not too hot and I am somewhat used to seatbelts not working. I opened the window and watched the city pass me by for the next few minutes. Every time I tried to make a comment to Nick, the driver thought I was talking to him. Which wasn't a problem except that I don't speak any Spanish, and he didn't speak any English. (Side note: I understand that I am the visitor and therefore hold the responsibility, as a guest in this culture, to make myself understood, not the other way around.) The car didn't go very fast and the driver had a tendency to straddle the lanes-- but the car was so small that it really didn't matter. People could be in cars on both of the lanes we were straddling and we'd have enough room.

Then it started raining. And by raining I mean monsooning. Rain was falling in big giant juicy drops, soaking us inside. The driver closed his window (after getting soaked by the spray of a passing car), and so I went to close my window. Except that my window didn't close. So, I just stayed there with it open getting wet. It was about a 40 minute ride to our hotel-- there were times that I wasn't sure we'd make it. The windshield got all fogged up and he kept wiping it with the back of his hand, but heck, we made it there.

We paid the driver, walked into the resort and as we were checking in (no lie) the power went out. It came on within 3 minutes, but we were sitting there (in the dark) wondering about our luck... convinced that, given our luck, we should (at no point on this trip) visit the casino on property. The lights came on and we got checked in. The bellboy walked us to our room... It was nice enough. We dropped our bags on the floor at about 8:30pm. (A mere 17.5 hours after we'd left on our excursion. We'd traveled (as the crow flies) about 120 miles.) We walked down to the buffet for dinner and I came back up to soak in our hot jacuzzi tub (one of the main reasons we had upgraded our room to a suite when we booked.) The hot water was slow in coming... to the point where I was afraid that we might actually not have hot water. But you just needed to be patient. Not the case with the jacuzzi jets, however. They actually didn't work. Neither did the internet or the safe. And there was another power outage. (No lie.) But we were too tired to deal with it. We called Megan (who is staying with our kids)-- it only cost $9 for the 3 minutes we talked. We got snuggled into our really comfortable bed (thank goodness) and slept well.

This morning things look brighter. They sent someone up to the room to fix the tub, we learned that you actually have to pay extra for internet and to use the room safe (all inclusive my a$$.) I had been on the fence about whether we'd do a spa treatment together or an excursion with the spending money we'd planned. Turned out Nick and I made a unanimous decision to use that money to FLY back home on Friday rather than risking a repeat of the trip here.

So there it is. The story of our bus ride to the DR. We're hoping that vacation goes better than the trip here did. And I just wanted to encourage you all to get right with God. Because if Nick's right, hell is not going to be a good place.

Random bullet point post.

2012-04-25T18:37:00.001-04:00

I have a new hobby-- making paper beads. It's slow deliberate work but I find it to be kind of calming. I will never be as good as the artisans at The Apparent Project. For realz. If you want something lovely, go here. In my head I have all of these day dreams that I will make all my Christmas presents for people this year. But then I remember that I will never happen, and so I encourage my friends to all buy yourself something lovely HERE. Even so-- here's some pics of my attempts. Don't you love how a kalabas candle cover I have has become my drying rack? It was like it was MADE for this. Of course my father in law saw it and said, "What is that-- a Sputnik or something?" I laughed like I knew what he meant and then googled it later.

I have been thinking a lot lately about our vision/purpose/mission. You know... that kind of "Oh. MY. Gosh. What the heck am I doing with my life?" kind of thinking. I am at this place where I am really, REALLY wanting to take life to the next level in terms of love/sacrifice/service, but I am having a really, REALLY hard time dying to myself. Has caused a lot of inner conflict as it turns out my flesh is a rotting, stinking corpse that wants to infect me. That might sound dramatic. I assure you, it actually is quite dramatic. I am learning that there is equal poverty in abundance and comfort as there is in material lack, and that kind of poverty is equally-- or possibly even more-- enslaving, due to its self-imposed nature.

While we're on the topic of abundance... Remember when I posted that picture of the new rainwasher and propane dryer? Nick totally bought them for me. I have wanted a washer/dryer for a long time. That wish was magnified greatly by the Great Staph Outbreak of 2011 (Go back and read the posts from mid-August 2011 if you're new around here and/or into gross things.) Then a couple of weeks ago a local mission donated a washer/dryer to us. I was so happy I almost cried. Except that we didn't have the water pressure or sufficient electricity to work either of them. Then I really did cry. I *might* have had a tantrum too. But whatever. Schneider has had scabies for like a month now. I freaking need a washing machine (actually, a dryer) to kill those little buggers. Now I have one. But just for the record-- the washer and dryer will only be used by me or Nick. It's out on our back balcony. If we have a widespread infestation of something I will use it for orphanage clothes/linens-- but, quite frankly, me and my little MSC washer/dryer aren't up to doing the laundry for 18 people and Francette (the orphanage wash lady who has worked for us for almost 3 years) still needs a job and well, my kids don't really care about the Tide/Downy smell on their clothes. PS- If you're a mission in the area with good power and water pressure and you want a washer and dryer, let me know.

After several recommendations, I am reading the book Toxic Charity. Anyone who has an interest in missions/social justice/charity NEEDS to read this book. It puts to words a lot of the things we've been wading through. I feel like I have highlighted every other sentence. Oh yeah, that's because I did. More on this later when I can find a way to say the things I want to say with the grace and kindness that I need to use when discussing some of these really tough issues.

Related to the above 3 bullet points... Reading the book sparked something in my brain-- a quote my friend Tim had written about in this blog post over a year ago. “Jesus’ whole life and mission involve accepting powerlessness and revealing in this powerlessness the limitlessness of God’s love. Here we see what compassion means. It is not bending toward the underprivileged from a privileged position; it is not a reaching out from on high to those who are less fortunate below; it is not a gesture of sympathy or pity for those who fail to make it in the upward pull. On the contrary, compassion means going directly to those people and places where suffering is most acute and building a home there.” (Henri Nouwen.) Pretty good quote, huh? Poverty/abundance/charity/washing machine/dryer aside... this is pretty much what I want to do with my life if I can ever get my mess together.

I've talked from time to time about Church on the Beach. It's this really, really cool ministry started by our friends Ken and Diane for missionaries/ex-pats in the area. It's really nothing more than a house church... a simple service where English-speaking people get together and talk and worship and pray. Where we share burdens, where we share joys. It's something that has brought SO much health into our lives. This worried us, however, as Ken and Diane's time in Haiti ended recently. We were so worried about this need for community with people who understand our home culture and how that need would be filled with them gone. But once again, God reminded me that his church isn't about a particular building or a particular leader, but rather about his people. We needed a location and we wanted to keep it on the beach (because it's called "Church on the Beach" and all). The first week we tried doing it at the Raymond public beach. It was not really a finished product due to numerous distractions. But then this past week we had it out on the Joy in Hope land in Raymond. A brand new location and 38 people showed up! Please pray for Church on the Beach to be a blessing to our ex-pat community. We never want to take the place of Haitian church (which is why we don't meet Sunday mornings like a traditional church), because we know that (for so many of us), empowering local churches are a huge part of the reason we are here. But we also know that worshiping in our native language is a huge need/blessing. We're thankful that years ago God blessed JiH with the resource of this location. We're hoping to build a small, natural-material shelter so that we can meet each week regardless of rain. (PS-- I am pretty proud of the signs I made.)

Nick and I took some of our kids to a Haitian birthday party the other day for Paskelita (I honestly have no idea how to spell her name-- all my kids call her Kakou.) Kakou is the daughter of one of my friend Megan's employees. Ok. So, cultural hilarity ensued for me when, at the party, they had me open the bottle of champagne OVER HER HEAD. (She was turning 5 years old.) She was absolutely terrified at the sound of the popping cork. Nothing like driving fear into the heart of a child for her fifth birthday present. Happy Birthday Kakou. Hope you like being scared out of your mind. ;) But please don't think I am judging other cultures for what they do/do not do to their 5 year old kids because I am sort of addicted to Toddlers & Tiaras (in a sick "I can't stop watching" kind of way) that streams free with our Amazon Prime membership. You want to talk about terrifying things done to small children... YIKES. (PS- Her dad bought Kakou the champagne... not me. Just thought I'd clarify that. I will also clarify that I did not let any of my children drink the champagne. Call me ethnocentric if you'd like but cultural appreciation/participation ended there with me. My kids are crazy enough sober. Can you IMAGINE Josiah, Nico, and Jerry "with a little color?" ;) It makes me tired just thinking about it.)

Alright, so, I think that's it for now. More if I think of anything else to say later. TTFN.

Post Ambien musings.

2012-04-20T01:44:00.003-04:00

Nick Mangine would NOT approve of me blogging right now. Years ago he made a pretty solid rule that I am not to blog (or otherwise communicate) after taking Ambien. Wise choice.

However, I am breaking the rule just a bit right now because it's been several hours since I've taken the med and my "sleepy time" is now over. Yes, at 1:57PM. It actually was at 11:42PM but I've been busy painting for the past two hours. Not a whole lot of bang for the buck with me and Ambien... BUT I DIGRESS...

It has been a rough week. Well- maybe longer than a week.

I am not going to go into all the drama that brought me to this conclusion but I have a statement to make that I think might be true. Missionaries are a transient bunch. Now, sure, most foreign NGO workers are pretty transient. But there's a whole other group of dynamics when it comes to missionaries (ie-- a sense of a call, following in faith or obedience, etc.). I would say that a majority of the time these kinds of comings and goings are a normal and natural part of the line of work. (There are other times that it isn't normal or natural or healthy... but that's not for tonight's discussion.)

I guess what I want to say is this-- it's lonely out here on the mission field. Tonight I am grieving the loss of several friends and co-laborers who have moved on. Sandra, Nixon, Tim, Ruth, Tammi, Jeff, Kyle, Maria, Cody, Laura, Ken, Diane... and those are just some of the longer term ones-- throw medium and short term missionaries in there and I'd be writing all night. (Which perhaps I should consider because it's not like I sleep or anything.) And the kids... oh my sweet children's friends...
But even through my tears, I want to thank you all (and I am sure there are some I am missing... that part I'll blame on the Ambien) for allowing yourselves to be used by God in the way that he wanted for that season. Thanks for being part of our lives. And for Pete's Sake-- COME BACK HOME TO US!!! WE MISS YOU!!! Booo hooo hooo... (I almost held it together there.)

How I long for heaven where we will all be face to face again! (Alternatively, you could just skip the wait for heaven and come for a visit.... hint hint. Just a thought.)

Those of you who are the praying folk-- please pray for authentic community amongst missionaries-- we're starving for it.

Wait, I have a blog? Oh yeah.

2012-04-12T23:41:00.006-04:00

So yeah. It's been an eventful few weeks. Lots of drama I would have blogged about it but I started off the past few weeks with really intermittent power going to my computer (due to a faulty mag port in the computer and due also to a generator that blew up on us.) The past 10 days, however, I have a much better excuse-- I didn't have a computer because our car got broken into (like literally broken into-- they broke the window) and our laptops were stolen out of the car. The person that ended up with my computer is going to be sorely disappointed because (due to the faulty mag port) my computer can't be charged. And there is no Genius Bar anywhere around here (like ZERO in the country of Haiti) that can work in it either. The fact that someone stole a broken computer from us made Nico positively cackle with delight as he blurt out, "Oh yeah. We joked the robbers good!"

So-- here's a quick photo recap of some of the events of the past few weeks... in totally, completely random order---

I got to visit my Viv-girl in Port this week. She is the person who made me a mother the second time... My social worker turned bff. LOVE her. LOVE her.

I turned 35 on April 2nd. I asked Nick to make me a pinata for my birthday. Here is is putting on the final layers. He's pretty much the coolest guy ever.

This kid just gets dimplier and cuter and chubbier every single day. He must take after his Mom in that respect-- cuter and chubbier every single day for the Gwennster too.

We had 25 Maya Nut trees donated. Jean Louis and Yves worked together to get them planted on the JiH property in Raymond. (Well, Jean Louis worked. Yves tried doing kungfu moves with a machete in his hand... Par for the course.)

We went to a church service where our friend Sam Felix was preaching. I got to hold sweet baby Karlens (Edwinson's little brother) during the service. Pretty dang cute.

Speaking of cute babies--Lenise, one of our live-in nannies, had a baby girl last week. She's lovely and perfect and we are so glad that Lenise will be able to raise her with her mother and sister (who are also live-in nannies.)

This is the burning of the umbilical cord. The clinic that Lenise visited burns cords instead of cutting them. It's a sterile practice and a good lesson for women in poverty to observe, as they would easily have all that is necessary to sever the cord their home in a sanitary manner. Some people claim that it's a gentler, slower, deliberate process that keeps the atmosphere mellow. I don't know about all of that... but it does kind of smell like cooking meat at a couple of times during the procedure.

The Mighty Mazda has seen better days. This was the break in up in Petionville last week. I am angry at the person who did this but thankful that God has ALREADY provided for our needs.

St. Cyr makes a great cup of joe... Seriously. Who would've thunk it?

First ever Haiti Ultra Marathon Team all together at the finish line a couple of weeks ago. Unbelievably difficult route. Amazing group of athletes.

Schneider got to snug his grandma last for the first time! We're happy to have Bev and Ken visiting for a couple of weeks.

Josiah at the dentist. Look at that office! I want to move to Petionville.

Dirtbike practice at the motocross park by our house

Fierce competition in the 110 Mototaxi division... looks like a photo finish!

Sunday is American food day. This week it was french bread pizza!

This is my new obsession. I really want this rainwasher washing machine and propane dryer. MSC makes me feel discontent with my life.

That's it for now.

Ta ta.
~Gwenn

Fantasy Photos

2012-03-22T11:42:00.003-04:00

One of the greatest things to do for fun in Haiti is go to a photo studio and get "fantasy photos" taken. It costs 50 gourdes ($1.25)/pose. And they have some RAD backgrounds and props. Nick was under the mistaken impression that he and Sarah needed fantasy photos for their gun permit. (They actually needed ID photos and profile photos.) I won't bore you with all of his fantasy photos, but just for fun, Nick and Sarah made a "Charlie's Angels" fantasy photo in an orchard. Don't be fooled! It's not actually an orchard, it's just a backdrop in the photo studio. (Although I could understand the confusion.)

The amount that I love fantasy photos has made me make it a new requirement for anyone coming down to visit the Mangine family. Fantasy photos are a mandatory part of your trip. We're going to start a wall of fantasy photos in our home... so... yeah, budget $1.25 into your team fees... cause we're doing it.

On a Moto- Episode 11: The beer holder

2012-03-19T07:11:00.004-04:00

I think this after-market feature is pretty practical for a place like Haiti, because yeah, while bobbing and weaving through traffic jams, it's important to have a tight hold on your alcoholic beverage.

Which got me to thinking. I know a lot of people who are in to creating new businesses/industries for Haiti. I see where some serious money could be made.

Besides, with room for two cans/bottles, you can offer that as an add-on to your taxi ride.

Dude-- just throwing the idea out there for the taking...

teamwork

2012-03-17T14:16:00.002-04:00

Men anpil chay pa lou. - Haitian Proverb

(Many hands make the load lighter.)

Teach your self a new culture in 100 easy lessons.

2012-03-15T13:41:00.004-04:00

I love the book, "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons." It's a fantastic book. It's how Nia learned to read. It's how my sister's kids learned to read. Josiah and Nico are doing great with learning to read from it. Highly recommend it.

So for the past couple of years I've been working with individual people here in Haiti (mostly they've been on my staff) with teaching English. Hugues understands a lot of English and really can speak quite a bit of English, but his grammar and pronunciation needed work. So I got the great idea that maybe instead of us working on vocabulary, ESL-type lessons, that we could work on pronunciation. And so I thought of this book because it mostly just teaches kids how to pronounce certain sounds.

So Hugues and I started a few weeks ago. Once you get a dozen or so lessons in, there's a short (sometimes very short) "story" to read that has a corresponding illustration. Before you show the child the illustration, you help him/her read the story and ask a few questions based on the words. You show the illustration. And then you ask some follow-up questions.

For example--

LESSON 18. The "story" says, "That rat is sad."

So the kid reads that and then you say to the kid, "You just read that rat is sad." What will the picture show? (The kid is supposed to answer that there will be a sad rat.)

And so then you show the picture and ask why the rat is sad. The general idea is that the rat is wet and cold. In fact, all three of my reading-age kids (Nia, Nico and Jos) answered exactly that way. They were convinced the rat was sad because he was cold and wet. But not Hugues. He answered that the rat was sad because he was standing next to a frog. Ahh, yes! Makes perfect sense if you know Haitian people-- most all that I've ever met are afraid of frogs.

Onto another story.

LESSON 24: "This is a rock. Sam is next to the rock."

After the kid reads the story you ask questions like, "What is the little boy's name?" and "What do you think Sam wants to do with that rock?"

All three of my kids answered that they wanted to push the rock down the hill.

And then the book says to answer after the kid answers you, "Yes, he looks like he wants to push it down the hill."

But not Hugues. Hugues said that it looked like Sam was clearing a field to plant crops and he had a big rock in his field and the rock was keeping him from the opportunity to grow food and so he wanted to move the rock.

And so I said, "What would you do if you were Sam?" (All of my kids said, "If I were Sam, I'd push the rock down the hill.")

Hugues said, "If I were Sam I would ask my friends to come help me move this big rock because this rock is too big for me to move by myself. And then my friends would come help me and you can see in the picture that the land is good for growing things, so we would make a nice garden." (It actually seems a bit steep to me, but whatever.)

Let me share one more story.

LESSON 26: "The sock is near a man. A cat is in that sock."

Remember the kid reads the story before they look at the picture. So we read the "story." Hugues looks at the picture and can't figure out why there's a sock on a Christmas tree. So I explain the concept of Christmas stockings and how sometimes people give people presents in their Christmas stockings. (He's actually seen stockings before, just never on a tree... which, come to think of it, I haven't either.)

So the questions.

I ask, "What kind of present is in the sock?" All three of my kids said, "A cat."

Not Hugues. Hugues said, "A bad present."

The next question to read is, "Does the man look happy with that present?" My kids all said yes. But Hugues said, "No he is not happy. He is not happy because someone joke him and give him a cat for a present."

And so I read the final question to him which was, "What would you do if you got a cat as a Christmas present?" My kids all said some variation of the fact that they'd be happy because they love cats, but that we can't have one because Nick is allergic.

Hugues said, "It's not a good present, but I would say "thank you God" because we have lots of rats in our house." ;) (I gotta side with him on that one.)

These seem like really silly examples of cultural differences, but the thing that is interesting to me is that it's not like I sat down ready to teach American cultural values. I was just trying to teach pronunciation. But it showed me that even though something might be BASIC and OBVIOUS to me, doesn't mean that is how everyone sees the world. And it reminds me that if we don't even approach the things that I think are basic and obvious from the same view, how could we possibly approach the more complex, important, and LESS OBVIOUS things the same way?

No freaking wonder why I get so frustrated. ;)

Today, in spite of the many challenges we're facing, I am glad that I am a part of this community. I am glad that I am learning new things. And I am glad that I have a long road ahead of me here in Haiti to learn some new basic and obvious realities about life.

"Whiten and Renew Skin"

2012-03-15T13:16:00.005-04:00

144 bars of this soap were donated this week.

Hmmm.

the road and the reality of what's on it

2012-03-10T23:45:00.004-05:00

I looked out the window as we were driving down a side road earlier today and realized that we were driving over someone's home. Or maybe a business they own, their kid's school, or their barber shop-- it was something.

Sometimes when they are filling in potholes in roads these days they use the "ranble" (rubble) from the quake. I wonder who that person is that owned this building. I wonder where they are now. Have they rebuilt? Are they even alive?

Earlier this week there was a 4.6 tremor felt throughout southern Haiti. It caused much panic in sections of the country. But even more traumatic are the figurative aftershocks that haven't even come close to ending...

Like when I visited a family in Pinchinat this week. Hadn't been there in a while for a lot of reasons.

I had heard a lot of families have been moving out. I cried as I realized there was still a soccer field FULL of tents. TWO YEARS LATER. Still in tents.

Tomorrow (well, later on today I suppose since it's after midnight) Nick and I will go help bury a 7 year old child we knew from Pinchinat who died from long term illness complicated (no doubt) by malnutrition/lack of sanitation. The father of this child died in the earthquake and the mom has been trying to make it on her own since. Now she's very sick as well. Her community-- her community of people who live in an IDP camp in tents-- are rallying around her to try to support her in this time. They are getting services and items donated so that her son can be buried with dignity. Our truck will (again) become a hearse tomorrow as we cross the river to bury another child from Pinchinat. Just one in millions of situations that continue to shake Haiti, figuratively, in spite of the ground being relatively still.

It's true that time helps heals wounds... but sometimes seeing the scar and remembering the wound can be a whole different level of grief.

our little lap dog.

2012-03-09T18:43:00.008-05:00

We have the best dog ever. Seriously. Her name is Piman. She's a mastiff, so she's huge. This is her as a puppy--

But now she's about 10 months old and if I had to guess, I'd say 100 lbs.

In spite of her size, she's super, super gentle. (I know that everyone with a big dog says that, but in our case it is true.) Here's her a few months ago giving Schneider a ride--

Piman loves people (especially kids) and, other than her large appearance, she sucks at being a guard dog (unless you count slobbering on people as a defense strategy.) She is the slobberiest dog in the history of the world. And it's not just enemies-- she is an equal-opportunity slobberer.

Piman has always grown up around lots of people, so she's really quite a sociable dog. Her main problem is that she doesn't know she's not a lap dog. It might be our fault. In spite of the fact that Piman is an outside dog, we tend to treat her like a lap dog at times in that we like to bring her with us when we go places.

Her favorite place is the land where she runs free and pretends she's the boss, but I've been known to bring her to the beach to swim or over to a friend's house with me.

This week we brought her to the bay with us to go find sea glass.

Normally she just rides in the back of the golden tap-tap with the kiddos--

But sometimes (like a couple of weeks ago when we were transporting items in addition to our kids) it gets too crowded in the truck so we have to transport her in the moto... As if us bringing our gigantic horse-dog out in public doesn't make us weird enough.

Hey, we may be weirdos, but now at least when people are pointing and taking pictures of our family out in public it's not (only) because of the little white kids that speak Kreyol. ;)

Haitian Kreyol Made (REALLY) Easy

2012-02-29T19:54:00.003-05:00

Kreyol cracks me up sometimes.

Nick used to tell people that if you're trying to learn Kreyol and you don't know a certain word, just say it in English with a Haitian accent and you might be close enough that you'd be understood.

It's totally true.

I have been re-reading my Kreyol textbook from language school (and incidentally, I would do MUCH better in language school these days than three years ago) and I thought I'd repost some of my favorite "Kreyol" words from a list of vocab in the book:

Babay!- Bye-bye!
Biznis- Business
Blackawout- Blackout (one of my very favorites)
Bouldozè- Bulldozer
Djob- job
Èkondisyone- Air conditioning
Entènèt- Internet
Faks- Fax
Faktori- Factory
Gazolin- Gasoline
Gòlkipè- Goalkeeper
Mòflè- Muffler
Otdòg- Hotdog
Pikòp- Pickup truck
Rilaks- Relax
Sidi- CD
Wikenn- Weekend
Yès- Yes

So-- all you people who are wanting to learn Kreyol but can't find a language teacher in the states, I would suggest you take Nick's advice... it might just work.

Eating Out.

2012-02-25T18:26:00.002-05:00

When it comes to eating out in Jacmel (and surrounding areas) there are a lot of choices, but they pretty much all serve the same thing.

There are usually only 2-3 things to choose from any one day and it could be any of the following:

Fish (with head attached)
Pork (cut into pieces and fried)
Goat (cut into pieces and fried)
Beef (also cut into pieces and fried or, at some nicer places, as a steak)
Chicken (fried-- but not like you and I are used to fried chicken)
Conch (generally grilled)
And *possibly* shrimp/lobster some places

Now, often you will get a 2-3 page menu that boasts of all sorts of exotic things like cheeseburgers, pasta, or ice cream. But most often, the best way to go is to not look at the menu and ask, "What do you have tonight?"

Last night was a perfect example. Nick and I (deciding to stray from our usual Friday night Cyvadier Plage date-- which, incidentally, is the exception to the rest of this post in that they generally have everything on the menu and it's all generally good.)

We picked a place right on the main street in a super-old historic building (read: ambiance) and we'd had good food and service there before.

We arrived at about 6:30PM.

We sat down and about 10 minutes later a menu was brought to us to peruse.

I asked the obligatory question, "What do you have tonight?"

Our server said, "Everything on the menu."

And I said, "Everything?"

And she said, "Well, we don't have shrimp. Everything other than shrimp."

Sounded good to me. I don't even like shrimp anyway. I looked through the menu (2 pages) and said, "Do you have cheeseburgers?"

"Yes," she said.

"Okay. I will have a cheeseburger," I said.

Nick said, "Do you have BBQ chicken?"

She said they did and he ordered that. Our drinks were delivered quickly WITH REAL glass glassware AND ice. Nick and I were feeling pretty victorious. That a restaurant would have what we want almost never happens.

Nick and I had brought some cards and played a few hands. About 25 minutes or so into the wait (which we always plan on being at least an hour), I said, "Hmm. I would really like some lime for my water." (I gave up Prestige for lent.)

So Nick says, "I will go get you some." Now, lime is one thing that almost EVERYWHERE has. They grow all over the place here and are available year round.

Nick walks away and comes back about 3 minutes later with no lime but a menu in his hand. (Mind you... this is at least 25 minutes after we'd ordered.) He dropped the menu down on the table and said, "Try again."

"You're kidding?" I said hopefully...

"No. In fact, we BOTH need to try again."

So, there we were... about 45 minutes into our date back to square one.

This time I ordered the steak and he ordered the fried chicken-- because they had fried chicken but not BBQ chicken??? But he had to go back up to find the waitress to tell her what we wanted. And then he made her go check. And then he verified they had propane to cook the food. (You laugh, but that has happened to us and last night even there was some dispute over whether or not there would be enough, but they assured us there would be plenty-- thankfully there was.)

And then, over an hour later-- Ta Da! We had dinner. My steak was good for the first few bites but then started tasting a bit off but I kept eating it because I figured if it was going to make me sick, I was already going to get sick, might as well get my money's worth. Nick's chicken was dry and had a jerky-like quality to it.

Nick and I were both in relatively good moods last night so we took it all in stride, at the same time coming up with all our plans about what we'd do differently if WE owned the place. (Since we obviously know it all.)

The moral of the story is that if you want to go out to eat in Jacmel, don't go out too hungry or too attached to any idea of what you think you'd might like to eat. Because it probably won't be there. Or, if it is, it might be entirely different than the last time.

Or just stick with Cyvadier Plage. The lambi thai is off the chain.