Someone has told me the same story about three times. Normally this wouldn't bother me that much cause I can fake a laugh with the best of them. But here's the story....
"Yea...one of my friends decided he'd do a marathon so he just went out and did one without training. I think it took him like 6 hours or something ridiculous!"
As I mentioned, this person said this about three different times just to drive the point home.
Why is this discouraging? Two reasons...
1. The person didn't train.
I'm spending hours and I mean HOURS of my life training for this stupid marathon. Not just running hours, but preparation hours. It's ruining my Friday nights (not that my Friday nights are all that spectacular to begin with) as I spend the evening resting and preparing for the next morning's torturous hours on my feet. Not to mention the hours of sleep every morning I give up as I get up at the butt crack of dawn (a loving term I learned early in life) to run 4, 8, or 9 miles before work.
To say "he wanted to do a marathon so he just went out a did one" says "why are you bothering training, just go out and do one!"
2. The proclamation that 6 hours is a ridiculous time.
I'm slow. My half marathon PR is 3:01:22 (recently I knocked that pesky 1:22 off of there, but I don't think it's official since it wasn't in a race). This means, at my best, I'll finish a marathon in 6:02:44. Proclaiming that time as ridiculous is...well...utterly ridiculous. In fact, my goal is to simply finish before they close the finish line. In Chicago this means within six hours and thirty minutes. I'm actually HIGHLY concerned that that won't happen.
So to say "6 hours or something ridiculous" says to me, "if you can't do better than that, why are you even trying?"
To be fair, my friend wasn't trying to communicate discouraging words, but wanted to be a part of a conversation. Marathons are one of those things that most people have stories, but few have personal stories. And, I'm frankly a lot discouraged at myself and a lot on edge with this whole thing! Yesterday I was running with one of my friends and a car nearly hit us (well her). My first statement after dodging it was "if they're gonna hit me, hit me hard so I don't have to do this anymore!" That sums up my basic thoughts at this point of training. I REALLY want this to be over! I REALLY wish I hadn't registered.
I REALLY want to quite.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
Color Run
I'm training for this little thing called the Chicago Marathon! It's taking over my life, yet even though this blog is all about training, it's not taking over this blog. Which means, it's time for a glance at my training thus far.
It sucks.
Until about a week ago, I got up at 5 am Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday in order to get my run in before the oppressive heat came. Correction... before the REALLY oppressive heat. Even though I was out the door by around 5:30, I was still running in 90 degree heat. Needless to say it's been hot in St. Louis!
However, the last few weeks have been AMAZING! The weather has been much cooler which led to several 70 degree early morning runs... GLORIOUS!
In order to not bore you with a synopsis of every run, I'll skip to Saturday's long run cause it was exciting! A few months ago I registered for St. Louis' Color Run knowing I'd have to run 16 miles on race day. If you've not heard of the Color Run, it's a 5K where every kilometer they throw a different color chalk on you so by the end you are fabulously colorful!
Since I had to run 16 miles I decided the best thing to do was to run to the race. This meant getting out the door by 4 am, running around my neighborhood, and then heading to downtown St. Louis. I've always seen people running before races and thought they were crazy. Why on earth would anyone do this? Apparently you'd do this if you are training for a marathon. My goal was to get 13 miles in before the race and finish the 16 during the 5k. However, my sleepy little head couldn't get out of bed and started about 30 minutes late. By the time we got to the corral I was only 11.5 miles in.
As we stood waiting (and waiting...and waiting) for the race to start my legs started cramping. I realized how difficult it was going to be to start up again... and I was right. By the time we started I had nothing left, but not starting wasn't an option... there was colorful fun to be had!
Luckily it wasn't long before we were at the first color station. It's kind of like a water stop, but instead of water in those water bottles, there was chalky color. Volunteers lined the street squirting us with a different color each kilometer. We soon learned we needed to be a tad aggressive in order to get covered. Not so much aggressive as overly excited.
It sucks.
Until about a week ago, I got up at 5 am Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday in order to get my run in before the oppressive heat came. Correction... before the REALLY oppressive heat. Even though I was out the door by around 5:30, I was still running in 90 degree heat. Needless to say it's been hot in St. Louis!
However, the last few weeks have been AMAZING! The weather has been much cooler which led to several 70 degree early morning runs... GLORIOUS!
In order to not bore you with a synopsis of every run, I'll skip to Saturday's long run cause it was exciting! A few months ago I registered for St. Louis' Color Run knowing I'd have to run 16 miles on race day. If you've not heard of the Color Run, it's a 5K where every kilometer they throw a different color chalk on you so by the end you are fabulously colorful!
 |
| Our group before... |
As we stood waiting (and waiting...and waiting) for the race to start my legs started cramping. I realized how difficult it was going to be to start up again... and I was right. By the time we started I had nothing left, but not starting wasn't an option... there was colorful fun to be had!
 |
Breathing in the midst of the chalkiness was as hard as you would anticipate, but here's the crew and I after the final kilometer. Some of us are a little more colorful than others, but that was all about to change at the color party.
After we finished the 5k we headed to the main stage area where every 10 minutes or so everyone would rip open color packets and throw all our color into the air. It was as crazy fun, but we were out of color (along with being sufficiently colorful) so we headed to the car.
Once we got to the car I realized I still had a mile and a half left on my run to do. This was really bad news as my legs were EXHAUSTED! I didn't think I was going to make it at all, but somehow when I got home I immediately changed back into my good pair of running shoes and headed back out the door. Two miles later was a little worse for wear, but had completed 16 miles!
Thursday, August 9, 2012
The wall...
There's a lot of talk about "the wall" in marathon running. That point in a race where you feel as if you can't take another step. It's actually a real thing; around mile 20 or so your body uses up all it's glycogen (aka stored energy) and your muscles have to look elsewhere for energy. I'm not sure if the training wall is a real thing, but if it is I've hit it.
I'm on the cusp of the unknown right now as I've just completed what would normally be my half marathon training. But, that training didn't end at a finish line with a medal around my neck. Instead I was rewarded by another 10 weeks of training. Up to this point, I kind of knew what to expect; I've done it before.
To be honest, I'm scared. My mind is full of voices telling me "this is stupid," "why are you even attempting this," "you aren't going to be able to finish," and "even if you finish, you won't make it under time so what's the point?" During Sunday's long run I hit a training wall and nearly started crying. I convinced myself I couldn't do this. Immediately I texted one of my friends "Can we do a run together this week? I need help."
This week I've done all my runs with her. Considering this morning was especially difficult, knowing she was waiting and had even made breakfast for us after the 4 miler was my only motivation to get out the door. As I type this I'm sucking down an iced coffee as I'm so tired, but also extremely thankful for friends that will run with me, encourage me, and convince me I will finish.
I'm on the cusp of the unknown right now as I've just completed what would normally be my half marathon training. But, that training didn't end at a finish line with a medal around my neck. Instead I was rewarded by another 10 weeks of training. Up to this point, I kind of knew what to expect; I've done it before.
To be honest, I'm scared. My mind is full of voices telling me "this is stupid," "why are you even attempting this," "you aren't going to be able to finish," and "even if you finish, you won't make it under time so what's the point?" During Sunday's long run I hit a training wall and nearly started crying. I convinced myself I couldn't do this. Immediately I texted one of my friends "Can we do a run together this week? I need help."
This week I've done all my runs with her. Considering this morning was especially difficult, knowing she was waiting and had even made breakfast for us after the 4 miler was my only motivation to get out the door. As I type this I'm sucking down an iced coffee as I'm so tired, but also extremely thankful for friends that will run with me, encourage me, and convince me I will finish.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
A close call...
Last week I spent a few days in Chicago with two great friends. This mother daughter duo had never really been to Chicago so it was tons of fun to explore that great city with them. We got a great deal on everything including our super cheap tickets on the Megabus.
By now many of you probably read the news about the deadly Megabus crash. We originally figured we'd take that bus, but while booking we decided at the last minute to hang out in Chicago a few more hours. We were so set on this time that even the day before we thought we planning our Thursday to make sure we made it to the bus stop for that bus.
My friend's husband called as we were leaving our last museum and told us about the accident and making sure we weren't on that bus. Really it didn't scare us that much cause we figured what were the chances this happening twice in one day. Friends started texting and calling knowing that we were taking the Megabus home that day. And, as we waited for our bus, we continued with our plan to send one person on the bus quickly in order to save the upper deck front row.
Around the time we were suppose to board our bus, they announced that our bus had been cancelled and we were to call customer service to make other arrangements. Because of my friends stern, but polite attitude, we were able to take a rental car home that night.
On the way home we learned that one person died. The person in the front seat over the driver. The seat we had plotted to get; the seats we sat in on the way to Chicago. We talked a little and the general attitude was thankfulness that we weren't on the bus. At one point though I said "today would have been a good day to meet Jesus though." This became my overwhelming thought. I kind of wished it was me on that bus. Not in a 'I'm depressed and just want to die' way, but a 'I really love Jesus and feel a little gypped that I didn't get to meet him.'
Last Sunday our sermon was about Paul's statement "to live is Christ and to die is gain." This is what was going through my mind during our 5 hour drive home. I think I understand that truth a little bit better.
By now many of you probably read the news about the deadly Megabus crash. We originally figured we'd take that bus, but while booking we decided at the last minute to hang out in Chicago a few more hours. We were so set on this time that even the day before we thought we planning our Thursday to make sure we made it to the bus stop for that bus.
My friend's husband called as we were leaving our last museum and told us about the accident and making sure we weren't on that bus. Really it didn't scare us that much cause we figured what were the chances this happening twice in one day. Friends started texting and calling knowing that we were taking the Megabus home that day. And, as we waited for our bus, we continued with our plan to send one person on the bus quickly in order to save the upper deck front row.
Around the time we were suppose to board our bus, they announced that our bus had been cancelled and we were to call customer service to make other arrangements. Because of my friends stern, but polite attitude, we were able to take a rental car home that night.
On the way home we learned that one person died. The person in the front seat over the driver. The seat we had plotted to get; the seats we sat in on the way to Chicago. We talked a little and the general attitude was thankfulness that we weren't on the bus. At one point though I said "today would have been a good day to meet Jesus though." This became my overwhelming thought. I kind of wished it was me on that bus. Not in a 'I'm depressed and just want to die' way, but a 'I really love Jesus and feel a little gypped that I didn't get to meet him.'
Last Sunday our sermon was about Paul's statement "to live is Christ and to die is gain." This is what was going through my mind during our 5 hour drive home. I think I understand that truth a little bit better.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
The Desk
A lot has happened... a lot! I can't say I've been overly busy, but blogging is just never on the top of my to-do list. I've got much to blog about - Louisville trip, Chicago trip, my new desk, marathon training, my next Chicago trip. We'll start with probably the funnest (not a word) and most exciting (to me).
After living in my apartment for a year and making do with a folding table for a desk, I finally got myself a real bonafide desk. See, I've gotten picky in my old age. I don't want to just have make do furniture any more or "I got this cause it was free" furniture anymore. I want a grown up place, ut this grown up has no money. Lucky for me, this grown up also loves getting cheap things and making them great things!
Last week one of my friends asked if I wanted to go to an auction with her. Now this friend is an antique store junky and also has the gift of making cheap things, great things so how could I resist?!
I remember going to one auction before, but my dad was in charge of the bidding. I was instructed to stand there, not look at the auctioneer, and for Goodness sakes keep your hands at your sides.
We didn't exactly know what to expect, but got our number looked around and strategized on what we were going to bid and where we were going to stand. It ended up being REALLY fun! $67 later I had brought home this loot.
Like I mentioned, I have little money and it didn't make much sense to spend more on paint and supplies than on the desk so I rummaged through my paint supplies. Added bonus, it matches my apartment color scheme perfectly!
First step: sand and prime
After I had finished priming I walked into the kitchen to clean out my brush and the paint fumes noticeable changed. As in, smelled exactly like gas fumes. The closer I got to my stove the worse the smell got. After walking back and forth several times I decided to call the gas company to have it checked out. I'd rather be the idiot that called for paint fumes than the idiot who died in the middle of the night from carbon monoxide. Turns out, I was the idiot who called for paint fumes. Thankfully the guy was nice about it and assured me he'd been called for this before. Apparently the paint fumes will burn off your pilot light too.
Step 2: base coat
I decided on white for the desk, but wanted something fun on top. After seeing the prices of stencils online, I landed on a chevron pattern in purple and green. I was actually going for green stripes with a purple under color, but realized too late that I should have started with green instead of purple. Live and learn.
After doing some touch up it was time to tape the chevron stripes. This was a lot more tedious than I anticipated as I'm not one for detail and exact measurement.
I decided I wanted three peaks on the desk top so I measured the desk width and divided by 4 using chalk to mark my measurements.
Honestly, I stalked some blog posts of other people painting chevron stripes and modified their instructions. That person measured up every 6'' for each stripe. I tried that first and it was just too large so I halfed it and it was perfect. On the lines I just marked, I measured every 3 inches. However, every other line I made my first mark 4 1/2 inches up in order to make a peak then continued down the line marking every 3 inches. Then came the easy part of painting the top green. Of course, everything that was tapped remained purple and boom... chevron stripes!
After a couple of coats of clear sealer, I had myself the perfect little cheap desk!!
After living in my apartment for a year and making do with a folding table for a desk, I finally got myself a real bonafide desk. See, I've gotten picky in my old age. I don't want to just have make do furniture any more or "I got this cause it was free" furniture anymore. I want a grown up place, ut this grown up has no money. Lucky for me, this grown up also loves getting cheap things and making them great things!
Last week one of my friends asked if I wanted to go to an auction with her. Now this friend is an antique store junky and also has the gift of making cheap things, great things so how could I resist?!
I remember going to one auction before, but my dad was in charge of the bidding. I was instructed to stand there, not look at the auctioneer, and for Goodness sakes keep your hands at your sides.
We didn't exactly know what to expect, but got our number looked around and strategized on what we were going to bid and where we were going to stand. It ended up being REALLY fun! $67 later I had brought home this loot.
First step: sand and prime
After I had finished priming I walked into the kitchen to clean out my brush and the paint fumes noticeable changed. As in, smelled exactly like gas fumes. The closer I got to my stove the worse the smell got. After walking back and forth several times I decided to call the gas company to have it checked out. I'd rather be the idiot that called for paint fumes than the idiot who died in the middle of the night from carbon monoxide. Turns out, I was the idiot who called for paint fumes. Thankfully the guy was nice about it and assured me he'd been called for this before. Apparently the paint fumes will burn off your pilot light too.
I decided on white for the desk, but wanted something fun on top. After seeing the prices of stencils online, I landed on a chevron pattern in purple and green. I was actually going for green stripes with a purple under color, but realized too late that I should have started with green instead of purple. Live and learn.
I decided I wanted three peaks on the desk top so I measured the desk width and divided by 4 using chalk to mark my measurements.
Honestly, I stalked some blog posts of other people painting chevron stripes and modified their instructions. That person measured up every 6'' for each stripe. I tried that first and it was just too large so I halfed it and it was perfect. On the lines I just marked, I measured every 3 inches. However, every other line I made my first mark 4 1/2 inches up in order to make a peak then continued down the line marking every 3 inches. Then came the easy part of painting the top green. Of course, everything that was tapped remained purple and boom... chevron stripes!
After a couple of coats of clear sealer, I had myself the perfect little cheap desk!!
Friday, July 6, 2012
Haiti in Review: Final day
It's been over a week since returning from Haiti so I'm long over due for a post describing and processing through my first international ministry opportunity. Here are previous posts about day 1, work day 1, work day 2, and work day 3.
Well, this last day of work started out a little different than the others. Pastor pulled up (late for the first time ever) to get us and I immediately saw the flat tire. Normally this would get everyone down, but I think we were all a little excited to get a few more minutes of rest before heading out into the heat and work.
Too quickly, we had a new tire and were ready to go. We loaded up and were back at the job site. Thankfully Grace was feeling a little better and was able to join us.
The day started much like the two days prior with song. It was so great to sing with these guys! Although, I don't think our team contributed all that much to the joyful noise.
Earlier in the week Pastor had learned Tyler was a seminary student and said he needed to get some practice. This service was bittersweet. We were so thankful to get to go home and enjoy our family and air conditioning, but sad to say goodbye to people we had grown to love. At the end of service each person came up to us shaking our hands and giving us hugs. Once back at the guest house we decided we wanted to end our night all together on the roof. Tuesday night we had spent a couple hours on top of the roof just talking and hearing our guest house manager's story. It was extremely peaceful. 
Finally it was time to head home. I was amazed the time went so fast. Friday morning we got up especially early in order to get to the airport on time. We made our way through all three security check points and were hopeful for a smooth flight home with no delays. Unfortunately that's not what we got. The team got delayed about 8 hours in Miami, but thankfully made it home around midnight to their own beds and neighbors without roosters!
Too quickly, we had a new tire and were ready to go. We loaded up and were back at the job site. Thankfully Grace was feeling a little better and was able to join us.
The day started much like the two days prior with song. It was so great to sing with these guys! Although, I don't think our team contributed all that much to the joyful noise.
I had been pestering Tyler to teach me to weld every single day, but it just didn't seem right for him to stop teaching someone else in order for me to play around. Finally, it was my time! I figured, I'm good at a lot of things surely I can weld. Well... I am good at a lot of things, but welding isn't one of them. Although, to give myself some credit, I wasn't horrible, just need some practice.
This day was a little slower than the others as we were tired and had handed off a lot of the work to the Haitian volunteers. We got some time to joke and play around. James broke out his phone and showed off his family at home. He asked the guys if they had any siblings and one of them responded, pointing at the other guy "he is my brother; my brother in Christ." then pointed at James and said "you are my brother." This moment accurately described how each one of us on the team felt. We had come so far to a place we had never been to meet people very different than us, yet we found family. There is a unmistakable and tangible bond through the blood of Christ. It's mysterious, but real.
I think the heat was getting to Tyler because late in the day he looked at me and said "wanna weld this?" And, I said "heck yea I wanna weld that!" Big mistake! Actually not horrible, but maybe he simply responded "you mind if I clean that up" after I had finished.
Remember how on the first work day I mentioned the digging beginning?! Over 3.5 days Jim and Travis dug the entire time! We decided that we had time and people to dig the hole for the cistern. It's crazy how much work they got done all by hand.
Our day slowly came to an end and Pastor brought us all some sugar cane to celebrate the end of a job well done. Of course, something new meant multiple photo opportunities even though we classified sugar cane as an unattractive food to eat.
Before leaving we had to take a few more pictures of our team and friends we had made.
That night we spend one last night with the congregation in the tent city. This was a special night, not only because it was our last worship service, but because Tyler got to preach.
Earlier in the week Pastor had learned Tyler was a seminary student and said he needed to get some practice. This service was bittersweet. We were so thankful to get to go home and enjoy our family and air conditioning, but sad to say goodbye to people we had grown to love. At the end of service each person came up to us shaking our hands and giving us hugs. Once back at the guest house we decided we wanted to end our night all together on the roof. Tuesday night we had spent a couple hours on top of the roof just talking and hearing our guest house manager's story. It was extremely peaceful. 
Finally it was time to head home. I was amazed the time went so fast. Friday morning we got up especially early in order to get to the airport on time. We made our way through all three security check points and were hopeful for a smooth flight home with no delays. Unfortunately that's not what we got. The team got delayed about 8 hours in Miami, but thankfully made it home around midnight to their own beds and neighbors without roosters!Haiti in Reveiw: Work Day 3
It's been over a week since returning from Haiti so I'm long over due for a post describing and processing through my first international ministry opportunity. Here are previous posts about day 1, work day 1, and work day 2.
Wednesday started much like Monday and Tuesday: drag yourself out of bed after a long night of trying to not kill Floyd the rooster and head down to the most delicious breakfast before getting ready to go to the job site. Pastor would show up (for some reason he showed up earlier and earlier each work day) and we'd pile in the van for our death defying ride to begin work. Once on the job site we'd begin with a short meeting, prayer, and typically a worship song.
We planned on a short day on Wednesday because we are Americans and we get tired much quicker than our hard working Haitian friends. Oh! And, we like to take time to get out and see Port-au-Prince while we are here. Since Grace was sick this day, I stuck close to Tim and helped him out. That decision had nothing to do with the fact that I was so tired and could no longer lift a wheelbarrow full of dirt and rock. No... nothing to do with that ;)
Tim and I readjusted some of the previous truss work and laid out the short trusses on top of the long ones. Soon we realized we really had no more work left. We stood back and saw all the Haitian volunteers busy working away and leading their individual stations. It was awesome to see, but then also made us feel a little useless.
Soon we were back in the van ready to take a little sight seeing tour of Port-au-Prince. I was really interested to see the white house... or what remained of it.
For lunch on Wednesday we went to some country club. It was fancy. We ate outside with cloth napkins and a buffet lunch overlooking a pool and the mountains. Of course here we come in our sweaty, dirty clothes straight off the job site. They forgave us and we enjoyed a lovely Haitian meal together.
Haitian food is what we described as Indian without the curry. There is tons of rice with some kind of stew. This stew (I'm sure that's not the right word for it) was seafood and had muscles, lobster, crabs, etc. Then there is goat (this one was really dry), potatoes, beets, and what we were told was cornmeal (I'm thinking it was lentils). We never had a bad meal. Everything was so good! Especially the hand squeezed juices we had at the guest house.
We told our guest house managers that the juice we had at this restaurant was no where near the juice that their staff makes. They of course passed on the compliment and the next day told us how excited they were to hear that their juice was better than the nice restaurant in town.
We snapped a lot of pictures during our drive around Port-au-Prince. And, as we would get back to the guest house and see Grace, we explained "once you've seen one street, you've seen them all." This is a particular beautiful shot of some of the houses on the hill. They literally build these houses straight into the hill. We saw numerous scenes like this on Sunday during our drive up the mountain, but couldn't get a good picture (you know... since we were driving approximately 90 mph).
Honestly, driving the streets of Port-au-Prince was much like what I anticipated. I don't know if I was overly prepared or just desensitized, but I wasn't shocked or horrified by the poverty as people have described I would be. Yes, everyone is impoverished there. Their living conditions are horrible. But, if you look past that, you see people. Real people who are loved by God whose poverty is actually a lot like mine. They need to be in a relationship with God. We need to look to God as our provider and sustainer. We need to look to God as the one who is righting all wrongs and reconciling this world. And, when you look at the world through the lens of the Gospel all of a sudden poverty isn't the biggest issue, being reconciled with God and one another is. And, as we drove through the streets of Port-au-Prince I think that's what I saw... not the poverty of stuff, but the poverty of heart that makes us all equals.
Because of this I'm hesitant to post anymore pictures or videos of our time driving around. I don't want to stir your heart towards their lack of stuff. It's so easy for us, in our wealthy state, to look at someone cleaning and selling our old shoes and think how much better we are than them. Or, the noblest of us, go and want to help them by giving some of our money. Yet, what if our money is the very worse thing we could give them?
After our tour we came back to the guest house to clean up and get ready for church. Since it had dried out much during the day, we were able to drive straight to the tent where church is held. This was an experience we all detested. As you might imagine, people don't often drive through the tent city; especially large van loads of white people. Every time before this we walked, which did in fact draw a lot of attention to us, but we were able to at least interact with everyone around us. We could say "bon aswe" or smile and wave at the children begging for our attention. In the van we were in a moving fish bowl for people to stare at and even throw rocks at us, and one guy stood in the middle of the road stopping us from going forward until Pastor yelled at him. Needless to say, we requested to never do that again.
The table was gorgeous! We sat around as honored guest with pastor and his wife. We enjoyed an amazing meal of BBQ chicken, rice and beans, salad, potatoes, and my favorite, fried plantains. I was so sad that lunch was so filling that I didn't have much room for this delicious meal. Other leaders from the church joined us, but sadly they either sitting behind us or outside. Even though it was sweltering hot in the kitchen, I didn't want to go when it was time. I think I was the last one out the door as I said goodbye to the Pastor's wife.
Wednesday started much like Monday and Tuesday: drag yourself out of bed after a long night of trying to not kill Floyd the rooster and head down to the most delicious breakfast before getting ready to go to the job site. Pastor would show up (for some reason he showed up earlier and earlier each work day) and we'd pile in the van for our death defying ride to begin work. Once on the job site we'd begin with a short meeting, prayer, and typically a worship song.
We planned on a short day on Wednesday because we are Americans and we get tired much quicker than our hard working Haitian friends. Oh! And, we like to take time to get out and see Port-au-Prince while we are here. Since Grace was sick this day, I stuck close to Tim and helped him out. That decision had nothing to do with the fact that I was so tired and could no longer lift a wheelbarrow full of dirt and rock. No... nothing to do with that ;)Tim and I readjusted some of the previous truss work and laid out the short trusses on top of the long ones. Soon we realized we really had no more work left. We stood back and saw all the Haitian volunteers busy working away and leading their individual stations. It was awesome to see, but then also made us feel a little useless.
Soon we were back in the van ready to take a little sight seeing tour of Port-au-Prince. I was really interested to see the white house... or what remained of it.
We told our guest house managers that the juice we had at this restaurant was no where near the juice that their staff makes. They of course passed on the compliment and the next day told us how excited they were to hear that their juice was better than the nice restaurant in town.
We snapped a lot of pictures during our drive around Port-au-Prince. And, as we would get back to the guest house and see Grace, we explained "once you've seen one street, you've seen them all." This is a particular beautiful shot of some of the houses on the hill. They literally build these houses straight into the hill. We saw numerous scenes like this on Sunday during our drive up the mountain, but couldn't get a good picture (you know... since we were driving approximately 90 mph).
Honestly, driving the streets of Port-au-Prince was much like what I anticipated. I don't know if I was overly prepared or just desensitized, but I wasn't shocked or horrified by the poverty as people have described I would be. Yes, everyone is impoverished there. Their living conditions are horrible. But, if you look past that, you see people. Real people who are loved by God whose poverty is actually a lot like mine. They need to be in a relationship with God. We need to look to God as our provider and sustainer. We need to look to God as the one who is righting all wrongs and reconciling this world. And, when you look at the world through the lens of the Gospel all of a sudden poverty isn't the biggest issue, being reconciled with God and one another is. And, as we drove through the streets of Port-au-Prince I think that's what I saw... not the poverty of stuff, but the poverty of heart that makes us all equals.
Because of this I'm hesitant to post anymore pictures or videos of our time driving around. I don't want to stir your heart towards their lack of stuff. It's so easy for us, in our wealthy state, to look at someone cleaning and selling our old shoes and think how much better we are than them. Or, the noblest of us, go and want to help them by giving some of our money. Yet, what if our money is the very worse thing we could give them?
After our tour we came back to the guest house to clean up and get ready for church. Since it had dried out much during the day, we were able to drive straight to the tent where church is held. This was an experience we all detested. As you might imagine, people don't often drive through the tent city; especially large van loads of white people. Every time before this we walked, which did in fact draw a lot of attention to us, but we were able to at least interact with everyone around us. We could say "bon aswe" or smile and wave at the children begging for our attention. In the van we were in a moving fish bowl for people to stare at and even throw rocks at us, and one guy stood in the middle of the road stopping us from going forward until Pastor yelled at him. Needless to say, we requested to never do that again.
At church we once again choose to sit in the back in order to better participate in the service, but of course we were called up to the stage and asked to speak a little about what we were going to take home. We were given certificates and pictures as thanks for our time with them. Then it was off to Pastor's for dinner. Now, these guys know how to celebrate!!
The table was gorgeous! We sat around as honored guest with pastor and his wife. We enjoyed an amazing meal of BBQ chicken, rice and beans, salad, potatoes, and my favorite, fried plantains. I was so sad that lunch was so filling that I didn't have much room for this delicious meal. Other leaders from the church joined us, but sadly they either sitting behind us or outside. Even though it was sweltering hot in the kitchen, I didn't want to go when it was time. I think I was the last one out the door as I said goodbye to the Pastor's wife.
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