Today was a great day! We went to church, which always fun. It's hard to keep yourself from nodding off while the pastor is just going for it in Creole and talking so fast that you can't even pick out the words you know.
I got to see Roberto today at church. He was our interpreter for our team the first time I came to Haiti in 2010. There's no greeting like a Haitian greeting. They never seem to forget a face. More likely than not they don't remember really who you are, but they will freak out as if you're their long lost twin. Really makes you feel loved and remembered.
Pastor Rosinel is a tailor and so I might be getting some custom made black slacks from him soon. And my new Haitian brother Frantz's mom sells clothes so I might get a nice shirt from her and some shoes. All because I realized today that I didn't bring nice enough attire for church. :) Its amazing how some of these families live in mud and tents but on Sunday they are in pristine condition: pressed suits, beautiful dresses, ties, and hair done.
After lunch we went to the tent city to put up a couple tarps. The tent city is a 5 min walk from the church. I had already been there earlier in the day because Pastor Mark and I went this morning to pick up people for church. It was great to see people again and talk with them. A man named John runs the tent city, as more of a community leader. He's a great man, and so very appreciative about what Foursquare is doing for the people in his community.
People are shocked when they hear me speak Creole because they're so used to teams of white people coming in and leaving and not speaking much Creole. But I do have to warn them, "Mwen pale Creole piti piti." which means that I only speak a little Creole. :)
The kids there are my favorite part, true for everywhere I go, but I also love the old ladies. You just call em, "mama," speak some Creole, kiss them on the cheek when you shake their hand, and they just love you!
I had a mama in Torcell, which is the site of a new orphanage that's being built this week, come out and ask, of course in Creole, if everyone was strong or weak, cause we had all just got done carrying lumber from the truck to the job site. And when she got to me, the last person to be asked, I just said I was weak in Creole and she nearly fell on the ground laughing hysterically. Now every time I go to Torcell, I poke my head over her gate and call out, "Where are you, mama?" in Creole and she comes running out to say hi and jokes about me being weak. The last time I was there we compared muscles and hers are bigger than mine! But that's pretty common of the Haitian women. They work just as hard as the men.
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