Do you want to meet Maria Bello?

So Maria Bello, a super cool, super tough actress is starring in a new show called "Prime Suspect".  This version of it is a remake of the British version, but apparently the two are different enough to be related, but are their own unique entities.  Cool.

So why am I going on about an actress in a blog about Haiti?  Maybe because we are having our 5th annual Festival for Haiti on October 15th.  Maybe because we have a silent auction that is held each year to help raise money for Haiti, and we've received super cool items this year that I'm completely stoked about.

Maybe because Maria Bello and her colleagues may have just donated a super cool item that we are hosting online bidding on our website about right now.

Just maybe.  ; )

Maria Bello, who helped found an organization called We Advance in Haiti (an organization designed to empower women and girls in Haiti to take care of their health and safety), has graciously agreed to something that is neat.

Has the suspense built up enough?

Okay:  Bello + associates have donated an awesome package:

• 2 tickets to see the filming of "Prime Suspect" in California (including lunch with the cast and crew!!)
• 2 tickets to Universal Studios Hollywood Theme Park
• A signed copy of the show’s pilot script

We are currently hosting online bidding on this fantastic item (starting bid = $950) on our website.  You can get to the bidding instructions by clicking HERE

C'mon...haven't you always wanted to rub shoulders with big movie stars and help Haiti at the same time??

"Go Commando" Race!!

Okay peoples--the morning of June 25th saw a certain WWV employee careening over hay bales, getting down severely steep hills w/o incident, kangarooing over fire, wading through the end of a lake, and going down a huge water chute thing that flung people into a wet, muddy, sandy area.

Words to describe it?

IT WAS A BLAST!!!!!!!  

Pictures will follow later, unless you want to like the Go Commando race page on Facebook, then you can see a bunch of pics right there.  =)  For now, the official picture-takers of the event (Marathonfoto), are still sifting through thousands of pics, getting the sorted and put in the right place.  Have been able to locate a few of me...but you'll just have to wait for a few weeks.  

If you have never done an adventure race, please consider doing so!  You do not have to be in spectacular shape--the Go Commando was a race for all people.  There was a fire pit, water chute slide, mud pit, two water pits, a maze thing on the side of a hill, a hay bale mountain, a lake to wad through, cargo net crawl, etc.  

So. Much. Fun!!!

So much fun, in fact, that I went through the course three times!  I mean, how often do you get the chance to go down a water chute while people are laughing at the expression on your face (okay, so maybe it got me down the hill just a smidge faster than expected...lol).  How often do you get to duck over those giant spools found in fields and such??  

Add to the atmosphere free hotdogs, and awesome band, and the opportunity to meet new people and have a blast doing so--'twas great.  Definitely an even to repeat!  =)

On my third time around the track (don't worry, I asked several people if I could go multiple times--given that this was not a chip timed event, no one minded), a volunteer asked if I was repeating the track for fitness or because I was training for something else.  Answer?  Yes.  Fitness is wonderful, but there are four more races on the horizon.

Why?

Because I went to Haiti in January and had my heart stolen by cute kids.  Cute kids right now who are worried about drinking their water because they know there are germs that might make them sick.  : (  

ALL of my running this summer is dedicated to those kids.  They thirst so I run.  They are worried about clean water, so I run.  

So what do running and kids worrying about water in Haiti have to do with each other?  Well--with supporter help, WWV can buy water systems that provide clean water to thousands of people per day!!!  Pretty neat, huh?  WWV, however, cannot grow money on trees--we depend on supporter help to bring these water systems into Haiti.  That's where you come in.

Go to the donation page of our website by clicking HERE, and either sponsor my running on the appropriate line, or put money towards water systems.  People are getting sick now.  People are dying now.  People need water NOW.  And so I run.

Oh, c'mon--what are you waiting for??

  

"It's okay to cry."

We spent today in two children's homes that are right next to each other. One of them is run by a Pastor Leslie and World Wide Village has been providing that children's home with Feed My Starving Children food for awhile. We arrived mid-morning and immediately all of us had bumps on our legs that looked an awful lot like little kids. It is market day in town, so many of the vendors had fresh fruit and veggies as we drove past, not to mention the thousands of other goods that were being peddled. Someone commented that it looked like an entirely different street; that is very true. I only recognized it as the same street when we went over the bridge that crosses a river with trash piles all over the place. Anyways, as soon as we got inside the gate and outside of the tap-tap, the kids were all over us. They recognize white people as being persons who usually bring things to them, and besides—we were new adults to play with and who might just pick them up. Ali had three kids on her, I was carrying one and another was latched around my waist. These kids did the same thing as the kids up in Cazale—once they were picked up, it was a trick trying to set them back down.

It is a school day and Pastor Leslie brings in neighborhood children for lesson time. The kids wear different colored shirts for a quick glance of where they belong—blue for the neighborhood kids and green for the children's home kids. There are approximately 70 kids at the children's home, and thanks to the Feed My Starving Children food, they look pretty good compared to many other kids seen throughout the country (particularly than those seen in Cazale yesterday). These kids are the lucky ones. They receive schooling, food three times a day, have clothes to wear, and have grownups who care about them. By our standards they still have significant needs to fill, but at least many of the basics are covered, even if they are not covered to our American ideal standards.

Some of the children in the children's home are true orphans, but many have family somewhere in Haiti. Many parents send them to the children's home so they may have a better life than they have at home—at least here they have food.

After arriving, we passed out coloring pages, blank pages, crayons, and puzzles. The kids immediately set to their tasks, coloring with an ernesty that would make any kindergarten teacher proud. I sat at the end of a bench with some children and had to rescue a puzzle from a baby who just wanted to teethe on the pieces. The baby sat in my lap, several young children crowded around me, and we just goofed off for a little bit. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again—kids are kids everywhere. They loved my camera, and loved to have their picture taken and seeing themselves immediately afterwards when the camera was flipped around. I kept ahold of the strap but would let the kids take pictures. They got a kick out of posing and then laughing at each other. Quite frankly, those kids took better pictures of each other than they would allow me to take!

After awhile it was meal time for the neighborhood kids before they left for the day. They lined up to take turns at washing their hands, found their places, sang grace, ate their meal, sang a thank you song to the Lord, and then went about their business. The kids are designated to various groups and there is a leader for each group. While it appeared that all kids helped out with chores, the group leaders helped set the plates and wipe down the tables. Official decision of the day: the most beautiful sound in the world is seventy spoons clanking against plates as seventy children eat a meal they would not have if it were not for the children's home where they live.

During this entire time, there were two children who had attached themselves to my side (if I knew their stories a little better and could have adopted them, I would have!) and would not leave. They directed me all over the compound, and it was with great reluctance that they left when it was their turn to eat. I have some video of the kids singing and eating, but probably won’t be able to post them until arriving back in the States.

The kids are fascinated by white people (one little girl kept pinching the inside of my elbow just to watch my skin change colors—hers doesn’t do that when she is pinched), and we were told they do not make it out of the compound very often. They sleep in big tents along with fifteen to twenty other kids—they don’t seem to mind. After all, many of them either don’t know any different or they know far worse conditions. One very sweet little boy obviously has some pretty severe developmental delays, and while he received no special treatment and was largely ignored by many of the other children, I could not help but acknowledge that he is better off at the children's home than anywhere else. Special facilities and aid for persons with psychological disabilities are nonexistent in Haiti, especially considering this is a country where many fully functioning individuals are struggling to survive.

Part of World Wide Village’s mission in the country is to do what we can to help stem the spread of the cholera epidemic. A major factor in stemming this tide is proper education about hygiene and good hand-washing techniques. Before we left, all of the kids gathered together and we taught them a song about handwashing while two of the kids from our group demonstrated how to properly wash hands.

Pastor Leslie had told us about an children's home just down the road where the pastor, other adults, and kids there have nothing. We went to that children's home, and this is where my heart was cracked in two. Upon driving into the courtyard, we were surrounded by walls that had crumbled in last year’s earthquake. At least twenty kids crowded around the back of the tap-tap before we got out and were pushing and shoving for a look at these pale strangers. I was almost knocked over by the kids as they grabbed onto me when I stepped out of the vehicle. They didn’t mean any harm and were not trying to knock me over, that just happens sometimes when so many little bodies press against a person at once. Anyhow, when I looked up, the walls surrounding part of the courtyard shocked me. There is no more than two square feet anywhere that doesn't have a crack from the earthquake. Piles of rubble litter the courtyard, twisted rebar juts out of the walls at unnatural angles, the intact-ish overhanging on a porch stuck onto the aforementioned structure is being held up with cement pillars that are trying to crumple. Shortly after the quake, the Haitian government inspected every house in the area and wrote a series of codes on each building in one of three colors: red, yellow, and green. Green means the building is just fine for human habitation and use. Yellow means the building is unstable but workable. Red means the building is completely unusable. There was a big long series of code on the side of a structure at the far end of the courtyard--code prominently sprayed in bright red paint. By all rights, there should be no human being setting foot in that structure until it is torn down and rebuilt. Yet this is assuming insurance as we know it exists in Haiti. Earthquake insurance does not exist in this country. The Pastor was telling us that he owned the land (at least an acre). On one end there had been a church (now a pile of twisted rubble) and on the other end the aforementioned structure was standing. After the earthquake, the church was no more, the other structure was severely damaged, and the pastor had lost his wife. “Some days, it is the children who give me strength” he said. One who did have a lot suddenly had nothing.

The pastor, whose name I cannot remember, showed us around the land devoted to his kids. There is an open courtyard for playing, a room where cooking is done on an open charcoal fire (the smoke from this is extremely unhealthy. and it goes right into where the children sleep), several rooms for sleeping, and a row of classrooms that are separated out by grade. The children are lacking enough clothing and proper latrine facilities, but none of them had the little starvation pouches or were scary holocaust skinny—it is obvious that this pastor devotes what little resources he has to feeding these kids. Indeed, he told us at one point that he tries to make sure the children have at least one full meal per day—some days they have more, but times are hard. The children's home received its first donation three weeks ago, and while we were there, people from that organization pulled up. Apparently, they are coming in to build bunk beds for the children.

We had not warned this pastor that we were coming, so our appearance was a complete and total surprise to him, though a welcome blessing. We came bearing prayers, toys for children who had none and a little food for kids who have little food. One of the boys stood up and told his story about how he came to live in the children's home. Now, keep in mind that this boy was probably in his early to mid teens. He was walking along the street one day when a bunch of older boys grabbed him, shoved a high-powered gun in his hands, and told him to go shoot anyone who was white and/or UN officers. When he refused and ran away, he tried to hide in a local motel, but the motel owner hit him with a stick and knocked him down. He was then shot. Obviously he lived, but I saw an old man looking out of that young boy’s eyes. NO ONE, particularly not a child, should have to live through this kind of trauma. NO ONE should subject a child to this kind of trauma.

I mentioned that along with the toys, we also gave out a little food. Though the pastor works with what he has, he does not have much. The kids were fighting over the boxes of raisins and cracker snacks that we had. For every one item of food that we had, four hands were stretched out for it. One little boy kept asking for some for the younger child standing in front of him, but I could tell that he would just snarf it down himself. Food has never disappeared faster. Just like the kids at the first children's home who did not leave a scrap of food left after their meal, these kids made food disappear as though they would never seen an edible scrap again. For them, however, this is a very real possibility. When we piled back into the tap-tap when it was time to go, one team member was sitting next to me and handing crackers one by one to children who were shoving their hands through spaces between the slats in the tap-tap. I have never seen anyone so desperate for a cracker before! These kids were the epitome of hungry, despite that they do not look like they are completely starving. They shoved their hands out and were hollering for food and kept insisting that we had more even when they were shown the empty bag. My dad warned me that this sight would break me, and he was right.

People, I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. Here are little children that God loves desperately and they are on the brink of starvation. Many of them lost relatives in the earthquake. All of them are hungry. I think of all the times a Compassion International or Save the Children commercial has been on and shown faces of starving children from all over the world—there are some affluent people who honestly do not care. Every individual who thinks they are hard off but have three full meals a day (or at least access to such) and transportation that works and clean air to breathe and fresh water to drink should come to Haiti for a week. You can look at all the pictures in the world, watch every documentary ever made, but you do not truly “get it” until you have seen it first-hand. I desperately wanted to run back to the guesthouse and gather up every item of food within sight and bring it back to these kids, but that would not solve the problem. That children's home needs sustainable help, something that will last through years—not a one-time solution that will fill their tummies for just one night.

I had been on the verge of tears almost all day, but was trying not to cry in front of the children. Despite the difficulty they face, they have the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. Despite their hunger and pain at recently lost relatives and lack of privacy and clean conditions, those children have a joy in their faces that is hard to miss—a realistic joy, they make do with what they have and hold no delusions of “maybe I’ll win the lottery” or “oh it will all be better tomorrow”. From what I could tell, they take each day at a time and consider it a blessing. The boy who was shot that I mentioned earlier? He said life at the children's home was hard, but he could be living in much worse conditions and thanked God for where he is currently living. My heart shattered at the thought that there are countries out there where children face those worse conditions every day. So what are we doing about it? The kids did not need to see someone bawling at their condition, they needed someone to look at it realistically and figure out what to do. Yes, tears show compassion, but they need to indicate action as well. It is just so easy to be so completely overwhelmed at the vastness of the need that exists. It is important to keep in mind that you are not an individual attempting to tackle the world’s problems—God calls many people because this is a task that will only be accomplished with many hand.

In the car on the way back to the guesthouse, I was trying to listen to what was going on but could only think about those kids and their faces. If only you could have seen the happiness that something as simple as basic toys brought to them!! Pat looked at me and said “it’s okay to cry” and I lost it. These kids need caring individuals to help them, and I was and am devastated for them. It is also devastating to think that kids in similar situations can be found in the US!! For the biggest superpower in the world, the US isn’t even developed to the point where every child is guaranteed a warm bed and full meals every day. AAAAUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! There is a reason God says to care for the widows and the orphans. They need care. We need to acknowledge that we are one tragedy away from being in similar situations. We need to truly be God’s hands and feet in this world.

Hebrews 13:3, James 1:27

AMONG THE THINGS I SAW TODAY:

· Children’s beds made from a piece of plywood balanced on top of stacks of bricks pulled out of rubble piles.

· Kids with hunger pouring off of them.

· A man carrying a chicken while riding a moto.

· A bazaar called “Victory of God Bazaar”

· A little Haitian boy wearing a “This is why I’m Canadian” shirt (they can’t read the English words).

· Haitian children in the children's home who have all the same problems with each other as American kids: two young girls who didn’t like each other and kept pinching each other, pushing and shoving, yelling at each other, etc

· Children running around naked simply because they have no clothes (thank God they live in a warm place).

· Two monstrous holes dug behind the second children's home that a company dug intending to install septic systems—it is VITAL that promises be followed up on. Right now those holes are just plunked in the ground and nothing is happening with them other than they are operating as trash pits and hazards that little children could fall into and get mortally injured.

· Pigs digging around in the same trash pile where humans were also digging.

· The biggest genuine smiles in the world.

Day one in Haiti

This morning has been something else. First, Ali and I got up at 3:45am (after spending most of yesterday flying) to prepare to board a shuttle to the airport at 4:30am. Shuttle came on time (thank you, Lord!) and I was impressed at the driver’s skill at maneuvering through the traffic mess that faced him when dropping us off at the airport (I now have a whole new appreciation for the orderly scene at the Minneapolis airport)…and we hadn’t even left the country yet! Directions in the airport itself were a smidge confusing, but navigable. Ali and I discovered that wearing a skirt through TSA security checkpoints can apparently arouse suspicion amongst impatient TSA employees. Ali and I were both thoroughly checked for anything that we might be hiding in our skirts (note to self, wear shorts when in airports going home). I can’t blame the TSA employees for being impatient—it was very early and passengers were tending towards a flock mentality more than they were listening to directions being bellowed above the din. Well, we eventually got to the gate and sat down. I’m sure we were quite a sight—two young women pacing around, wide awake despite the desperately early hour, anxious for the journey to just be done and to just BE THERE!

On the plane, I sat between Ali and a Haitian woman who was obviously on her way home. This woman saw me looking out the window beside her, and she opened up the shade and sat up taller while making sure I was looking out her window. She seemed proud to show off the country that I probably had just as obviously never been to before. It was a little unreal to realize that we traveled less time today than yesterday, but this time the plane touched down in a completely different country/world. Literally less than a two hour plane ride from Florida, a state in the richest country in the entire world, exists Haiti--the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.

Travelers are immersed in Haiti almost as soon as they get off the plane. Announcements on the plane are in English and Creole. A band was playing lively tropical music at the end of the walkway as we exited the aircraft. The heat and mugginess in the air was evident as soon as the plane doors opened (let’s just say the Alaskan in me is more than a little melting right now—January 4^th and 89 degrees outside…as much as I love Haiti, I'd probably have to think twice before coming down in the summer!). Suddenly I could only understand one or two words for every thousand that were spoken around me. I have a whole new respect for people who immigrate to a new country and start a new life—being somewhere where you can barely communicate about the basics is just plain unnerving. But I digress…

After we got through immigration and customs, Ali and I needed to claim luggage. As our plane was the only plane of any major size landing at that time, we knew the bags coming in had to have come with us from Ft. Lauderdale. There was only one carousel, and men were lining baggage up in a roped off area. Dahmon (my husband) once told me that when he was on a trip to Europe, the tour guide told him “You Americans are too polite, push and shove as necessary!” That was kind of how I felt when collecting bags. If you stepped back and waited for someone to go by, you would be waiting forever because people do not stop going by. Being assertive was the key, but that only goes so far when you do not speak the language. Luckily for us, most of the airport employees speak some English, so we were okay. We gathered our mountain of luggage (we had brought every piece of luggage the airline would allow--no, we didn't need that much stuff for the time we were in Haiti, but we were also bringing in supplies for students in the schools that WWV administers), put it on a cart, and trucked our way outside.

That is where things got really interesting! Apparently Ali and I missed the memo that people flying in with WWV are not supposed to leave the baggage area until Alexi, a gentleman who works for WWV comes and finds them. We just shoved our luggage mountain out the doors, squinting against the very bright sun light, and immediately a crowd of men started hanging onto our luggage and insisting we needed help. We kept repeating "we are fine, we have a ride" as we walked towards the parking lot. Alexi found us, hollered something at the rest of the men around us (I really wish I could understand Creole just to know what he was yelling!) and led us to where Randy and Pat were waiting.

Speed limits? Forget them. Road laws? Don’t hit someone, avoid getting hit, and stay out of the potholes *cough* caverns. Traffic in Haiti is something else—people walk in the road much closer to moving vehicles than I would be comfortable with. Cars get extremely close to each other. Public transportation is in the form of “tap taps”—gaily painted vehicles that can always hold “one more”. People zoom around on “motos” (motocycles), weaving through traffic conducting traffic tricks that would make movie makers proud. To drive through downtown Port au Prince is to see open air markets lining the streets, people bustling about. Peter said that people collect and sell whatever they can—nothing goes to waste.

The World Wide Village guesthouse is in a gated community that is much quieter than downtown—well, except for the roosters. Roosters are everywhere and they sure do announce their presence! We dropped off our bags, met some people, did some office work, and then it was back to the car to go visit the clinic in Rosembert. Randy is an excellent driver and maneuvered the traffic with the skill of someone well practiced in the art of driving on Haitian roadways. I peppered Peter, Randy, and Pat with questions about what I was seeing. Why is there smoke coming from the river bank? The people are burning trash to get rid of it. Were all of these buildings standing before the quake? Most of them. Were there any tent cities before the quake? Nope. We drove past buildings with crumpled walls, past fencing walls that have mangled rebar sticking out at bizarre angles (Peter later told me that was a sign of earthquake damage), past buildings with earthquake cracks in the walls that had been sealed with plaster. Past people who have far too many years behind their eyes.

We arrived at the clinic, and went inside to look around. There is a vision team with WWV at the clinic right now, so they were in treating patients alongside a Haitian doctor. There were children with runny noses, one baby they are pretty sure has pneumonia and as such needs to go to the hospital, a man who is so dehydrated that no one is entirely sure what is wrong with him, a woman who was walking around with an IV coming out of her hand, etc. The house that the Builder's Association of the Twin Cities group built was very close to the clinic, so we walked over there and looked at it (I just have to say—it is a wonderful house, bigger than the cabin I grew up in). On the way, Ali and I apparently became curiosities (I assume that Randy and Pat are here enough that they are recognized whereas Ali and I stick out like new, sore thumbs). Between Ali’s blond hair and my tattooed foot/ankle, we were garnering quite the stares. In Haiti, staring is not rude and people do so unabashedly.

After walking around for a bit and returning to the clinic Randy and Pat started looking around for Peter, who was nowhere to be seen. Randy called his cell phone, and found that he had been walking around in the community and found a woman who was bedridden…or in this case mat ridden….due to illness. We found Peter and the woman, spoke with her for a bit and found that she has been ill for a long time. Her name is Fleura, and she had been going to the doctor, was on medications, and then had to stop both due to lack of money. Fleura is dehydrated due to lack of drinkable water. There was a ditch filled with grubby water next to the tin shack she is living in, and we were told it is highly likely that this grubby ditch was her water source. I cringed, and quite literally was choking back tears, when looking at the trash floating in this water source—the fish swimming around in it, goats wading in its shallows, ducks taking baths, etc. I thought of the water purification systems that donors have allowed World Wide Village to purchase for various Haitian communities—Randy said he would drink the water out of that ditch after it has been treated by one of these systems, they are that effective. But Fleura does not have one and is too weak to travel any great distances. We laid hands on and prayed for her—but no amount of good intention will do anything without action. God takes action unseen, Randy and Peter arranged for her to be seen at the clinic tomorrow morning. After leaving her side, we heard an ice cream truck version of the "My Heart Will Go On" song from “Titanic” start playing at the far end of the road. Hark! A water truck was coming! A mini-semi looking thing appeared with big smiley faces painted on the side. We waved it down and purchased a five-gallon bucket of water for Fleura. The cost of providing a woman with enough clean drinking water for one day? Approximately 60 cents USD.

We walked around the neighborhood a bit, looking at destroyed houses, goats that run all over the place but return home at night, and talking to people we walked past. I asked Pat if Peter knew all of the people he was talking to, but apparently that is part of Haitian culture—everyone talks to everyone and has no bubble whatsoever. We drove out to glance at some land that WWV is trying to purchase (having to swerve around a rather obnoxious bull that jumped onto the road)—and I saw there is cactus here too! Hot weather and prickly plants, good grief. J

Driving home, we got a lesson on how to say “Tomorrow, if God wills”…or something like that. I’ll have to ask Peter again. For now, the smells of Surret’s amazing cooking coming from the kitchen is sufficiently distracting enough for me to close this post. Type later…

Going to Haiti!!

I currently work for an organization called World Wide Village, Inc. (www.worldwidevillage.org) that is based out of St. Paul, MN. We are "a 501(c)(3) non-profit charitable organization whose mission is to transform impoverished communities mainly by providing Christian education, health care, nutrition and micro enterprise opportunities to children and families. Our current geographical focus is in Haiti" (quote taken from our website). Whenever someone finds out I work for an organization that does work in Haiti, the next question is "have you been there yet?" Up until now, the answer has necessarily been no. All that is about to change!

A co-worker (woot Ali Funk!) and I are traveling to Haiti together next week. We are leaving on January 3rd, overnighting in Ft. Lauderdale, FL and then flying into Haiti on the 4th. We will be staying in the World Wide Village guest house in Port au Prince during our trip. I fly back into the States on the 11th, provided all goes as planned and the airlines stay cooperative. Ali will be staying a little longer.

I really do not know what to expect while down there. The only time this gal has been out of the country was driving through Canada back when no passport was required to cross that border (though some could argue that Alaska, where I grew up, is a different country). My grandmother thinks I've gone and lost all my good sense. My parents keep saying I'm going to come back a completely changed person. Co-workers who have been to Haiti say it will be a good experience. Reports of cholera, political unrest, and other dangers have been perused and thoroughly examined for the truth behind the sensationalization. I have no fears.

My only nervousness in approaching this trip is that seeing first-hand the earthquake devastation and other issues is going to more thoroughly frustrate me with current global social situations. Safety while in country is not an issue--I will always be with people from the organization and have no intention of traipsing off into the city by myself at any time. I'm not worried about health problems, and even travel snafoos just pose ways for us to learn how to navigate the airlines better. God will provide and will take care of us.

Haiti is a beautiful country filled with beautiful people and I finally get to see it firsthand. I could not be more excited for this! There is an internet connection at the guesthouse, so I will try (emphasis on the try) to update this blog daily while down there. Right now, our plan is to distribute shoes (please pray that they are released from customs) and help out wherever we are able. Whether that is deworming kids in one of the schools we work with, painting a room, or just learning from the locals, it promises to be a trip of a lifetime! If you are interested in going to Haiti with us for a week, just let me know and I can help you get the process started.