Monday, May 19, 2008

blogging from a remote location

Where to start?
As it turns out – blogging without internet is a bit challenging. Internet is seriously a major part of our existence in 2008. At least three times a day we’ll be talking and someone will say, “I don’t know – google it.” (And there is the rub.)

There seems to be no true hope of internet being restored anytime soon. We’ll start going other places because the mission business cannot happen without internet and being disconnected from news, family and friends feels very weird. We will get back to emails as soon as we can, I promise. Currently I am on an 11 Mbps connection, whoa!! And I don't have an hour per email that would be required to open them. It is all very circa 1994.

Tina and Aidan and Deb and Elise (Tina’s sister-in-law and niece)all arrived safely last Wednesday and have had a nice visit. They actually leave very early tomorrow morning already.

Tess’ parents and Mr. Halverson all left a few days ago. The hotel Livesay is about to empty out and slow way down. Jen and Tess will be heading back to Minnesota on Thursday. Their time here is up. I could go on and on and on about the five months that Jen and Tess lived in LaDigue. Rather than do that here I will speak to them privately – through an ugly faced cry. Suffice it to say that living with people that are not your family could go terribly wrong. Troy and I both had some nervousness about how it would all play out. In the end Jen and Tess fit into our family like they were meant to be a part of it. The friendships we built mean more to me than either of them can possibly understand. We will miss them.

The clinic will be closing. That is sad too. We really hope that the money will be raised to open it. We found a Haitian Doc that is willing to run it, we just need to fund it. Jen worked for free for five months, making it all possible. There is no doubt that the clinic is needed. The people of LaDigue will miss Dokte Jen.

Yesterday a guy came to the gate with a hole in his neck. I could not even believe what I was seeing. He did not speak, he only motioned. He had a note and some information written down. He said he had been like that for three years, that he was trying to get to Cuba for medical help and wondered if we could pray for him and/or help him financially. The whole thing made me very sad. I don’t know how the guy is living like that. I have a photo but it is terribly depressing. Pastor Rony asked us to pray -- Jen and I did that and Rony gave him a little something and we said goodbye. It did not feel like enough.

On the personal front things are ... how shall we say ... uh ...not that good. I woke up with one eye swollen shut. I was flipping out and asking Troy if I looked terrible. Troy, being a liar, said "you look beautiful." Then Noah walked in the room and informed me that I looked like a monster. At least our son tells the truth. I have photos of it for posting - to prove it, but my stone-age connection won't allow it. You're probably better off not experiencing the horror of it all. Add the fat eye to the fact that Lydie is officially a bottle-fed baby ... and things are a bit "owie" right now. I lead such a glamorous life. Try not to envy me.

The mission is very quiet today, as we all observe Flag Day. Quiet is nice every once in a while. :)

Tomorrow Paige, Isaac, and Hope will be taking some tests at the Christian school in Port - maybe I will find some Internet to use and update you on the monster-eye and other situations. Thursday we'll be weeping as Tess and Jen head North and happy-crying when Britt comes in for 9 days. We can hardly wait to squeeze our Britty.

Until Later,
tara for all of us