Ironically it seems to be nicer at the airport leaving Haiti than it is coming in. Almost as if to try to coerce you gently into having fond memories. I have fond memories; not just because of the airport.

This is not a chapter complete but a lesson of many in the whole. I realize that the we can not be a global community if everyone is not cared for and with the amount that needs to be done in Haiti, we are going to have our work cut out for us.

I would like to leave you though with a message of hope. In the camps, speaking with the women and families, I repeatedly heard a desire to start a business, get back into their homes, continue on with life. The people don't want to live on handouts. It is really skilled facilitators who are going to be able to help make a difference there.

Don't give a woman a fish, don't teach her to fish, ask her what she wants to eat. Honor culture. Respect experience.

Beginning to say goodbye is never easy. Not only to the people, but the projects that I had taken on had also captured a little bit of my heart. I appreciated that working with AMRUTEL really felt like I was able to get into the projects.

While occasionally my help was needed to pack bags or watch babies, I was also given the ability to leap headfirst in making projects happen. While unsure what made that a reality when so many other volunteer experience I've had have not assumed intelligence and capability – perhaps the relief situation, perhaps the nature of AMURTEL – I know that while in Port-au-Prince I worked for AMURTEL. I hope to continue helping them with projects from home, as well as be able to return to see the progress.

The evening began the yoga retreat. Singing Kirtan, dancing and meditation were a lovely finale to my trip.

Some highlights of this trip for me were:

1. Realizing that many of those who lost their home and now live under tarps were business owners who owned their own homes. They now begin from scratch many having lost 'everything'

2. The deep heartfelt love that came pouring out to me by the Haitians

3. The desperation that true need brings

4. How easily dignity can be taken and restored.

I look forward to going back to Haiti. Yes, I'm already sure I'm going back. I was on the second day. There is a lot of work to do and I plan to be available doing my part to facilitate the building eco-villages and developing education to meet the people's needs and desires.

Getting closer to the day to depart is odd. I've begun to work on the things that need to be handed over. I know that my time here has helped AMURTEL. I also know that I have gained something very valuable in this experience.

I also know that I won't be having rice and beans anytime soon. I'm beyond craving that particular dish...

Bu the idea of returning to my life in Western MA is both comforting and stress inducing. I feel right now like that is home, which is a good thing. But it is hard to leave. I am still interested in working on and being involved in the projects that are going on in Port-au-Prince but that's pretty darn hard to do from the US.

Despite my excitement to see my friends, and to sleep in my own bed there is also a sense of dread accompanying my trip home. All the things that I left there are going to be waiting for me upon my return. The games that I need to move forward on and projects that will launch immediately are on my mind. Some things I love, others I enjoy compete for my time. And, of course, the reality that I am not really sure what I should focus on.

There seem to be some general areas that I am involved in 'local living economies' ' sustainability education' and 'organization development' to name a few. But which of those, and of the partially begun projects are going to be the most worthwhile for me to follow up on first?

I am going to choose to walk into home with an open slate and from there allow my clarity gained from being in Haiti to guide me.

With Rama and Jayatii ready we head out the door, locking four lock behind us including the gate and start our 1km descent to the main road where we'll catch the TapTap. The descent begins with a steep incline and then drops off on slippery cement roads that need some attention. Along the way we pass thee goats, one of which is so pregnant it looks painful. Next we pass the biggest, cockiest rooster I've seen here with his hen. This colorful rooster is literally twice as big as his counterparts that I've seen. Must be all the fresh air up in Thomassin. As we continue our steep descent passing our neighbors and saying 'Bonjou!' The pollution obscured view of Port-au-Prince blanketing the hillside down to 1,500 feet below us, or sea level is lovely and helps to begin the day right, even though we know we are about to descend into the fumes from vehicles that wouldn't have passed inspection in the US years ago as they cart their load around town. Burning garbage filled with plastics chokes the air so that by the end of the day I can feel a dry sort of scratch at the back of my throat, worse when the yoga asanas that I practice sometimes in the middle of the day cause me to breathe in more of the sickening chemicals.

This morning the first 5 TapTaps were filled to the brim. Not just three but 5 people hanging on the back. Interesting to me that the drivers stopped in the first place to let more on. Finally after a little wait a TapTap with space pulls up. I slide between the exterior fixed bench and the interior eventually taking a seat as close to the front as I could reach knowing there were others behind me, even though I knew that the windy roads down this would slide others into me and my no longer existent personal space.

Just to my left is a man standing and leaning against the front of the bus. He is wearing glasses which I realize later are possibly not necessary and has three large bags with him. Jayatii looks and says 'Looks like were getting a presentation.' I wonder then if some of the NGO's are trying to communicate their message to the people riding in the TapTaps in the morning and so I am eager to hear what this person has to say.

As the TapTap rolls down the steep incline full of people (of which I am the only one with light skin) the gentleman begins to speak. His Kreyol lilting and easy to listen to. Some passengers seemed rapt with attention while others dozed, or stared out the slats at the passing scenery. The drugs that he was peddling were none that I've heard of before and I wonder if they were considered safe for consumption.

The adorable 1 ½ year old sitting across from me whimpered as if to begin crying and her mother began to breastfeed. I'm not sure when, but on one of the turns it became evident that this was going to be a working ride. For my muscles that is. You see, the middle bench that I was sitting on was not bolted to the floor and so every turn or bump threatened to dump me and my 8 fellow passengers onto the laps of the people in front of or behind us. Our hands were already on the metal bars connected to the roof and holding on tight. I practiced shifting my weight on turns in what I hoped was the right direction. While we did not flip the seat during the ride, I'm not sure how equilibrium was maintained.

Pulling into the market I notice the smell and its pungent familiarity blocks before the TapTap comes to a stop. We all climb down, walking slowly through the streets clogged with people and a few brave cars to our next TapTap in front of the women with the convenience store baskets along the way passing multiple pharmacies, vendors set up for the long hot day, but not yet hawking their wares. Climbing onto a nearly empty TapTap bus as it pulls around the corner slowly enough for people to get on but never coming to a complete stop. It is full by the time it completed the turn and we are off heading down into the Bourdon Valley and our destination on Rue Garnier.

Knowing that a potential day without more food is coming, at 9am I grab a plate of Deshna's breakfast spaghetti, load it with hot sauce, and top off my stomach - which may still contain a little of the peanut butter and strawberry jelly that I had at 6:30am.

An hour late we begin to fill the car with people, every available space plus some is taken. The plus some in this case includes Philito and Chupati, two of the three-year old orphans who want to come along for the ride. I am in the way back with my knees up to my chest and Philito in my lap. Are you thinking, that can't have been comfortable, especially with the crazy bumpy roads? You would be entirely correct.

Our first stop is over to the Dada's to pick up the doctors who are coming with us to treat the villagers. When we arrive at the Dada's, even later than the hour behind at which we began, someone has to run inside. Two people switch places in the car and half an hour later we are off and running.

We arrive in Cabaret at noon, hours after we wanted to get there. The doctors and their helpers/translators begin to set up and the rest of us take refuge from the intense heat under the massive Tamarind tree with the rest of the residents who have been waiting for the doctors arrival. I am reminded about the first time we were here meeting with the village to talk about building an orphanage. I remember the woman with the gooey eye who wanted me to make sure the doctors knew about her eye when they arrived. I don't see her in the crowd, but it looks like half the village or more is here.

Once the doctors are set up under the tree, we head out to the portion of the village held in common to see if it was suitable for a bamboo housing project. AS I stepped out of the car of the second time that day my head exploded in pain. Why the sudden intense headache. It was certainly hot, but I'd been drinking water. We walked around the fields and I didn't take in much due to the dizziness. In hindsight I should have probably sat down, but the trip ended up being short that by the time I identified that I wasn't feeling well it was over.

Back at the car we headed down to shuffle into the other car because of who was coming back with us. The other car is a stick shift, and low an behold it seemed that I would be driving for my first time in Haiti because Didi's knee was bothering her and she couldn't. Should I admit here that my driver's license was at home in Massachusetts at the time?

Piled back into the car I took off carefully, wary more of the roads in Haiti than the other drivers and pedestrians. Part way home, and we were in a hurry because of another meeting scheduled to talk to the UN about the plans to move several of the camps due to potential flooding/landslides/general terrain instability, and I was asked to stop so that we could buy mangos. 6 bags of Cheesy puff like junk and multiple bags of mangos later we were finally on our way back to Port-au-Prince when someone mentioned being surprised that it was 49degrees Celsius in Cabaret. Not being familiar with celsius, only enough to remember that people in Paris died one year when the temperature maintained itself at 42 Celsius, I was curious... How hot is that? 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Oh My! No wonder I got an instant headache back in the village!!

Uh oh. We are approaching a road block where they are checking papers. Unlike that last time we were stopped without papers we can't just have Ivon bring me my license. It is in another country. I guessed that worse case scenario we would just have to bribe them to get by. Singing kirtan under my breath (Baba Nam Kevalam) I slowly crawled forward and was waved through. Whew! Turns out they were just checking the buses and TapTaps that day.

Breathing much easier all was well until just outside of Port-au-Prince when we hit the second roadblock of the day. I couldn't possibly be lucky twice in one day. Fortunately, I was. It seems that the cops were targeting big vehicles that day.

After moving on and negotiating a particularly tricky intersection through flirting/begging a UN vehicle to let me in, we were nearly back!

I sat in on the meeting with the UN where they promised not to use force, but admitted that there would be military there. The main concern being - how would the people who needed to be moved feel about this? What was the best way to implement this move? An interesting conversation, for certain. There is no way to know how the plan would play out until its implementation.

At the end of the day, I have to say that the ride we were given back up to Tommassin in the newly fixed Pouvoir was much appreciated even as the staccato rhythm of the bumps beat deeper into the growing bruises on my rump. I fell into bed this night possibly without eating. I don't remember beyond getting back to the house, I was that tired.

The pickup truck decided that it didn't want to make the trek up to Tomassin this evening. The journey there is a constant climb and at the end only four wheel drive will keep you moving forward. As we left the Didi's it seemed fine and wasn't until we hit that main road, clogged with rush hour traffic, that a problem became evident. Pouvoir –that's the name I'd given the truck on our second trip up to the house when it seemed that the vehicle didn't want to keep going - could only move forward in first gear.

I can imagine that everyone behind us was annoyed by our very slow start and stop pace. Ivon got out a few times to make sure that the four wheel drive was not stuck on, but nothing would get Pouvoir moving with the flow of traffic. After about ten minutes of struggling to move forward we decided the best thing to do would be to take the taptap the rest of the way home.

I was totally excited by this. It would be the first time I would get to walk around and take the public form of transportation.

After walking uphill about half a mile we got to the place where we would be taking the TapTap the rest of the way up to Tommassin, with only a brief stop to get some sweets on the roadside. When one finally came it was an old bus which we had to climb our way into. It seemed that there were no spaces left until you realize that people double and triple up in most seats.

Crammed into some 'empty' space in the back we headed up the winding road up the mountain. I held onto the seat in front of me tightly so that I would not be tossed around violently as the shockless bus hit bumps and took turns. About 2/3 of the way up some people got off leaving an empty seat – Rama and Johna took it because they were the most cramped in their current situation. As they reached the seat the full realization hit that it wasn't actually attached to the floor – so I watched as they comically held the bench up the rest of the way up the mountain by gripping the seat in front of them.

Once we reached our stop, we had another half a mile straight up to walk before getting home.  While we arrived well after dark and tired, I totally enjoyed all the enw experiences that the day had to offer.

About Pouvoir

This truck was a lemon. In the two weeks that I've been here it's been broken three times. Of course upon looking under the hood at one point and realizing that the battery was held in by a string, well then it made complete sense that the car spontaneously stopped every time it went over a massive bump...

Next, raise the cap up by soldering onto the truck a two foot tall metal frame with the trucks cap on top.

Then fasten two simple wooden benches into the truck bed.

Take the most vibrant, colorful paint you can find and have someone decorate the entire truck. Although very costly at $10-20,000, it is worth it.

Don't forget your devotional words of wisdom – a Christian phase certain to not only distinguish your vehicle, but also to keep the truck safe and to attract high quality passengers.

Once this is done you are ready to roll, just don't forget to stop when your passenger signals they need to descend by knocking, tap tap, on the roof.

This business is sure to earn you between $50-100 US per day especially since so many drivers hired away by the foreigners has made it harder to find transportation.

As I was shopping for art to bring home, I had a disturbing realization.

As the vendors continually tried to entice, they were mainly kept in check by each other since these veterans knew that an unpleasant experience would not be likely to earn them any sales and outright badgering would have me walking away. At the end of the block I went to turn around and a very forward seller asked me to see his space on the other side of the street. I walked over and didn't see anything that I liked overly much and so went to head back to try to buy my favorite painting on the previous block before it got packed up.

This vendor pleaded, cajoled. His initial price of 1000 was steep: others had begun at 600 for the same size and shape. He immediately dropped the price lower once I commented on this.

Really though what I am working up to talk about, and which upset me was the need in his voice and his desperate persistence. I realized this in the moment that I had said no that he would not hurt me or attack me, but that he really needed this sale, this money. He could not beg, he had obviously already dropped the price as low as he was able to by his physical expression. It was in that moment of his need I realized that my country's action are the reason, in part, for this man's great need, fear and trappings and it bothered me to be faced with it in a very real way.

Now I don't negotiate solely for the fun of it. I know that in cultures where negotiation is the norm, it can be insulting to accept the first price you are offered. I know that if you walk away they will drop the price to what the item should really cost. I know that I want a good price, but I'm not likely to get the going rate for the locals.

I don't believe in paying a 'tourist' price for something because I see it as falsely injecting the economy with money and then the expectation that foreigners should give more. Any economy based on tourism alone is not going to do well in the future unless we can quickly solve the issue around sustainable transportation options. If those vendors get a higher price from foreigner, what to stop them from selling to local for the lower price, and then should tourism dry up, or in Haiti's case the NGOs begin to go home as relief work peters out, what happens to the economy? An industry disappears and if this is what the entire economy is based on then there are big problems that have to be fixed in the future.

And yet, thinking about the tasks that I've accomplished I realize that in the eyes of many while not a large number of things were done, there were important conversations that happened and interactions that may mean villagers ending up with a community that is more sustainable.

So what is it about Haiti that leaves so many volunteers frustrated? Listening to others speak their frustration comes from not getting things 'done.' Or feeling a lack of accomplishment during the day. I think that it is important to acknowledge that the only thing that matters in life is not the forms you put out, or the buildings that get built. It includes the meaningful relationships that you develop. It includes giving people suffering from starvation, post-traumatic stress disorder, and oppression the opportunity to be heard and loved.

I held a child the other day less than a minute after meeting her for half an hour. She launched herself into my arms and held tight. Pure love, comfort and giving to another. You can't plan that. You can't set out to do that. It has to happen and if you are spending so much time focused on getting tasks done you can't allow time for that experience to happen. And so, Haiti, she gives you the time. Things break, run hours late. I don't mind most of the time, but I see how much it bothers others. I've also felt the annoyance creep up when something seemingly simple like getting bags for a distribution takes all afternoon.

But I write, and I chat, I take pictures and I play with the children. All of those things are as important as packing bags for distribution. So my days are full to bursting: filled with work, love, tasks, and simply being. At the end of the day I am exhausted to the point that I barely eat dinner. In fact I'm pretty sure that I haven't broken 1,000 calories in the last few days. But I'll wake up tomorrow at 5am and begin again. Because that's what feels natural. There is no 9-5 unless you are talking about when I sleep. The natural breaks necessary for life happen during the day, regardless of your intention.

I haven't had a 'day off' yet and don't expect to. While I would love to hit the town, transportation prevents that from being realistic and I'm not sure if I really want to have a drink or even what I would do if I went out. A meal out might be nice, but I'd likely be full quite quickly and might not enjoy it as much as I think I would now as I sit here thinking about it. What I may want and need is some down time. Time to recharge my batteries and rest my brain.

How could I have forgotten that some of us have moved up to Thomassin in the first of two waves to leave the current location. I had mentioned earlier that the reason for the move is the relative lack of safety of the current location.

I find this new home to be a haven. It is above the pollution that plagues Port-au-Prince and so I can literally breathe easier. The view is breath taking and the wrap-around porch inspires morning yoga and meditation. But you can see for yourself why I call this heaven.

The tomatoes were an awful idea. I've spent most of the day in the bathroom with liquid bowels. Pleasant-no. Too much information? Probably, but let it serve as a reminder not to eat washed or unwashed fresh fruit and vegetables without peeling them first. Maybe its just a lesson that you should make sure to get the calories that you need otherwise you are susceptible to becoming sick. While I'll never be sure what specifically caused me to be ill, however, I will definitely be careful about both of those things in the future even though it could also be the change in climate that threw my system off...

Did I mention that it is hot here? It's march and a steamy 97 degrees. While the weather in New England was not that cold the day I left, it had gotten down to freezing that night and my 65 degree winter household temperature did not prepare me for this intensity of heat. I don't typically sweat that much, but here I can feel the rivulets of sweat running down my body. The stickiness that I shower off at night, and in the morning returns far earlier than I would like.

I felt awful in the morning and while trying to let it pass I got to the point that I just wanted a hug. I walked out of the door to find one of the babies and ran into Marie Naucia, one of the women who clean. She introduced me to her 6 year old daughter who took a portion of a second to tell me her name before launching herself into my arms for the most forthright loving hug. I'm not sure who got more out of it in terms of love and healing, but I know that it was nice.

For the next 30 min she was attached to my hip reluctantly leaving eventually to go home. It was perfect and exactly what I needed. My heart expanded this morning and while I didn't feel well all day the funk I was in during the morning went away.

What was exciting about the day was that I got the opportunity to spend time working extensively on one the things that I love the most – building sustainable communities. In this case, one of the plans that AMURTEL has is to develop an eco-village so my tasks for the day included super hands-on communications around helping develop this plan. As you can imagine I had a huge smile on my face despite my stomach troubles.

Often times, in Haiti, things can feel like they are not getting done. For many people who are used to being able to get in and out of a bank in under 2 hours or taking a trip to only one store to find basic needs, it can be frustrating. Frustrating because its hard to feel like anything has gotten accomplished when you can only check one or two 'simple' tasks off your list in a day.

While down here I have been super easy going, allowing for the inconveniences and annoyances to roll off my back. Today, however, I was down right irate about it. The irritation could have been because I wasn't feeling well. Thinking about the previous day's 800 calories I loaded up on lunch today consuming a big bowl of mac and cheese with fresh tomatoes. Based on my stomach's response the tomatoes must have been washed. Before I cross over into TMI (Too Much Information) land, back to the lesson in Patience...

What felt like the only task of the day, to procure plastic bag in order to do a distribution of sanitary products, was taking forever. It wasn't until 2:30 PM that the group of people who all needed to make individual trips left the school. Knowing that one of those trips was to the bank, which is a minimum of two hours – I didn't expect to get our main task begun until sometime close to 5PM.

What do things take longer in other countries? Well my first observation is that most of the world does not function on the same clock as the US.

For example, when I was in Kenya a morning meeting could be anytime before 1PM and a lunch meeting could begin up until 4PM. The Kenyans called us mazungus which means chicken with its head cut off, which is an accurate description of our often frenetically paced lifestyles.

Some of why, I think, things take longer in Haiti.

1. Damage to the physical structures

2. Interruption to external supply lines or the ability of the store that are still standing to meet the needs.

3. A history of oppression leaves a legacy of an education system that does not teach people how to organize and be efficient (as we would call it)

Westerners do tend to be driven to 'get things done' or to be more efficient. This serves, I think, as more a cause of stress than anything else. In my life, I've found that spreading tasks out actually makes me several times more efficient. But in order to be successful in a society that holds a 9-5 expectation, I choose to tailor my external communication to be during the times when others are in the office.

In reality, I find my inconsistent meals happening a lot. I wake up and barely grab a bite and it is off to the races leaving me just a little bit hungry until lunch, which occurs is anywhere for noon to 3. While I could eat there just isn't a strong enough feeling of need to motivate me to track down food.

Since, dinner is leftovers from lunch, often I end up just eating one larger meal later in the day. While I am sure my waistline will be happy about this, I do sometimes feel a little hungry. As I mentioned earlier I know if I needed food I could have some, but it just isn't always as convenient as it would be in the states.

There are no microwaves. Roadside 'fast food' would likely make me ill – not specifically because of the quality, but more because I haven't been eating meat which is a staple in the local diet. Food is prepared slowly; rice boiled with beans to make for a nutritious although repetitive lunch, vegetables cooked down into a stew. Tasty perhaps, but I crave being able to munch on a salad or other raw possibilities. I like being able to open the cabinet or fridge and find something someone prepared for me. Hmm, what does that say about us?

One of my challenges here has been stepping into an organization for two weeks and wanting to make good solid decisions based on little history. The reason is because I feel as if I am stepping into something that has a story, and in this case one so completely different than my own. While this is something that any consultant does every time they go to work, and I am particularly cognizant because of my perceived vulnerability of the population and my desire to make sure that things get done right this time. I wasn't here for the earthquake or the aftershocks. I wasn't here last year for the hurricanes. I wasn't here years prior as the Haitians starved, long before any of these disasters. But I am here now and trying to help.

So there is a lot that I can do, but I go forward with the understanding that I do not know the whole history of this situation and I can only do my best with what I have. I take what I know into account and understand that I can not know everything of even all that passes while I am present, much less the entire future. Whew, it is definitely a challenge. I do know that I can contribute meaningfully to the rebuilding of Haiti on a higher level using the skills that I actively use in my daily work, but only as long as I am conscious of the history and my vulnerability. Because I am vulnerable due to my lack of knowledge and experience which means that leading is more about facilitating the process than 'doing' anything.

For example, in searching for a new place to move the headquarters I am confronted with the realization that I do not know what is best because I do not have enough information. So how exactly do you go about determining what is best in this situation? If I trust my gut, I would push to move to a new location as soon as possible for safety purposes. If I listen to some of the others I would do the same. But how do I know that my gut is not influenced by their outwardly projected feelings? I'm going to openly speak with those involved and see if I can't help them to move it forward on their own.

After the very heavy rain the other night I became aware that there was no evacuation plan for the site. I've found it surprisingly common for people to not have an evacuation plan for their homes. Because of this, I proceeded to spend the day working on one so that the 6 toddlers, 3 teens, and 12+ various adults that live at L'École would know what to do in an emergency.

While Haiti has had multiple emergencies in the past few years, I feel that it is really important for everyone world-wide to know what to do in an emergency, even if it seems like there is no or little risk. Some questions to ask yourself: Will staff and/or guests go home or are they expected to remain? Do you know where your most important documents are? Are they easily accessible? If you had 30 minutes to pack your most important belongings, could you do it?

No one ever wants to think about the worst, but having a household, office or family plan is important to keep people save and for many it decreases stress about what may be. Taking a line from the Boy Scouts -> Be prepared.

I personally have clothing at my parents house along with copies of my documents, a plastic box in my car with emergency items, a box of a weeks worth of food in the basement, and a backpack that has emergency items in it. Maybe you think its too much or not perfect, but I have a plan and I am comfortable with it in place. And now, Lécole AMSAI also has a plan, which is good because there are three major threats to be concerned about that are leading to our search for properties to move into.

Also today, on a trip into town I was finally able to pick up my bag! It was great, I breezed in and out in under 5 minutes and one of the security people allowed me to cut the very long line of people waiting to go through customs. I wonder if he had noticed that I had arrived 5 days before my bags...

Heading back home for the night our lateness inspired a trip to a restaurant for dinner. Normally dinner involves grabbing leftovers or scrounging around the kitchen (lunch is the big meal for us.) It was odd to walk into what felt like a different world. There were white people there, more than I had seen anywhere else besides the UN compound. Eating out also served to remind me that there was a whole contingent of foreigners here that were having a sterile experience, going from hotel or camp to the field, whereas I feel that I am getting a different perspective on Haitian culture and the people. It makes me realize that a tour group style volunteer trip could be had with limited experience outside the participants typical day-to-day first world experiences. And so there I was at the restaurant checking out the bourgoisie and foreigners, and it was like seeing an exotic species.

Today I learned an important lesson on what the digging of a simple latrine could do for a community.

The nearest camp which takes its name from the street, Garnier, has been having problems with sanitation because of a lack of a latrine. People, who have no other choice, simply must go to the bathroom where they can. When you have an overcrowded situation like the camps you can imagine the smell and the problems with sanitation that can accompany that. As a solution to this challenge one of the volunteers, Asa, worked with four of the men from NAME to dig an 8 foot hole for latrines.

Once dug, the hole got covered by a structure with seats. With the addition of some tarps to hang around the edges, not only have the resulting two latrines given people a way to keep their home cleaner, but it has given them back a sense of dignity.

Torrential rain.  An understatement, but the only way that I know how to describe what began last night.  Almost out of nowhere it began.  Dumping down so that when I ran 20 feet outside I became soaked to the bone and took care of my need to shower that night.  

The heavy wind which accompanied the rain blew down a few of our tents, tossed water into the women's (my) room and caused general mayhem, which makes me think about the camps and the families who are still living under sheets.  Frankly even those who have tarps aren't necessarily all set.  The roofs of those 'houses' are flat and when massive quantities of water come down onto them, they collapse.  

First concern... they all seem to be first concerns...  the people in the camps with less than adequate housing...  those caught outside their homes... those without tarps or tents...  our electronics sitting in an office into which the rain was directly blowing...  the river, which has risen 10 feet in the last three years due to rubble...  said river taking out the two bridges, our route to safety, which it currently barely makes it under without the rain...  the house that is disintegrating down the hill and will run into this building making it impossible to reach the bottom floor...  There were more, but I am not remembering them this morning.  

This means our plans have changed for the day.  No surprise there.  One big change for me is that I will not be going to get my luggage.   No worries though, I still have one borrowed outfit, and by then the rest of my borrowed, worn clothing will be clean and ready for the next round. 

I finally nailed down what I am going to be working on while here. While the tasks that need doing are varied they all, as expected, fit in with the things that I am good at. First task springs from a challenge. Here's the situation. A group has donated a water filtration system in order to provide the camp just adjacent to L'Ecole AMSAI with water. The locals in the camp know that the stream that provides the water source for this is where they clean their clothing, themselves and where their bathroom is, thus, confidence in drinking out of that river is not at the highest. 

I wonder if that lack of confidence can be dispelled by a further understanding of the technology. This is hard to do on the ground and without some way to demonstrate this nano-technology, which is why I am going to try to put together a program or lesson using a visible demonstration.

With both nano concepts and global concepts, there is often misunderstanding because the components are not easily visible. Another example that I can think of that happens with this is non-renewable resources. Maybe it goes back to the old adage – out of sight, out of mind.

After working on that for the morning, I went to help pack distribution kits for a women's program the next day. We are going to distribute a bag filled with diapers and hygene items such as toothbrushes, soap, et cetera. By the end of pack things my hands were covered in dust, I was a little dizzy from needing

Are you wondering where my luggage is? Me too. But to be honest, I didn't even bother trying to pick it up. I am lent an outfit a day and at this point probably have enough to get me through the end :P

I woke  up at 6am to the sounds of singing; the roosters had been crowing for a while at that point.  Hopping into the SUV I head down to the UN compound with 8 others so that they can catch their flight to take the tens from the day before and so that I can pick up my bags, which will hopefully arrive today from Santo Domingo.  I should have known not to get my hopes up...  

Once we dropped the Didi's off at their flight I was sent down to the OIM or IOM tent to find a man who had promised us some water filters.  Other than the added direction of where the tent was that was the extent of the information that I had.  

I got over the what I though was the right area and went to ask a guy in a car where to go – there were multiple tents marked OIM.  It was as soon as I opened my mouth that I realized how poorly school and my subsequent time in Belgium and world travel had prepared me.  I don't know how to say 'water filter' in french... Come to think of it I also can't say 'earthquake' and 'aftershock.'  Kind of important words when discussing water issues in a country that an earthquake recently hit.  Eventually he took pity on me after I used every word, hand gesture and body movement I could think of to describe what I needed and brought me by truck around the corner to the right tent.  

Prior to entering the building I noticed a sign to keep the door closed, which meant only one thing – air conditioning!  It was already sticky at 9AM so I was excited by this.  Although I shouldn't have been because it was hotter and more moist inside the building than outside.  Apparently, it takes until 5 or 6PM to cool it down...

After some false starts and multi-lingual conversations I found the Macedonian or at least someone who knew what I was talking about and could help me.  Since I had none of the background on this conversation and was literally jumping in I figured it could be rough.  Fortunately, it went quite smoothly once I was in my UN-funded folding chair with candy in hand.  The group was interested in giving us 300 small emergency water filters and 2 large.  The small alone would filter water for 10 people each.  How exciting!  Water for 3,000+ people!!  

And then the system kicks in... They would be able to deliver possibly the next Monday, as in no sooner than 5 days later.  Mind you we are talking about water which last time I checked wasn't something that could really be put off especially since we are already nearly two months out from that disaster.  

I thought I had struck a good deal to get them ready to be distributed on Monday versus delivered then, but due to the forms that needed to be filled out and the organization of their people for media and communications its been delayed.  Even my request to receive two demo models to use for training and so we could understand them ourselves (since IOM didn't) got put off due to forms being needed.  

The rest of the day turned into a lot of errands around town, during which I got my first taste of a supermarket, a few stores, a bank, fast food and seeing/ smelling the streets on foot.  We got a lot done, which was nice, I do wish that my camera battery hadn't died though.  

My flight got in to PAP airport two hours late because of a delayed flight from San Juan, Puerto Rico.  This means that my ride from the airport to L'Ecole AMSAI where I will be staying, I think, is not there when I arrive.  After a little while of hanging out (I didn't realize quite how late I was) and hoping Ivon would come back, I borrowed a phone from someone trying to sell taxi rides and called Jayetti.  Fortunately, they had to come down to the UN Airport to drop some people off, but that still meant that I had to wait outside the terminal for an hour and a half, which turned out to be a good thing since I met some great people during that time. 

Outside the terminal was like nothing I've ever seen before and reminded me of what it might be like to be in a cage at a Zoo.  People looked in the bars, pointing and calling out.  There was a push to get out and the bedazed wonder of those who were not quite sure if there was someone waiting for them or what the heck to do in this very new, very different setting.  So between the pushing and milling, I'm kind of glad I had the time to get my bearing. 

Once I finally found my new friends in the bright orange of their Amurt/Amurtel clothing we then headed to the UN compound trying to figure out the best thing to do with two large tents that needed to go to the south for one of the schools run by Amurt.  You see since the earthquake school can't be held indoors and with the rainy season coming...  You get the point.  No tents, no school.

It's amazing to me how many hours things can take; no saying that it was an awful wait, just that the amount of time that slips by trying to get things done is much more than in the US.  

Once back at L'Ecole AMSAI, I was able to observe a training of the local women when they learned how to take care of a water filter which would provide surgical grade water (a.k.a. Nothing but the water molecule) to the camp.  

Back at our school I got to hold and play with some of the children.  There are 8 orphaned children and several Haitian families, all the volunteers, and the Didi's that live here.  The children are are mainly toddlers.  I was accosted and detained by the littlest shortly after my arrival and enjoyed every minute playing with and holding them.  

Later in the evening when the power suddenly came on, several of us (three of the Haitian teens that work there, one of the other volunteers and I) danced around the kitchen, which was the perfect end to a long day.

I understand that I am stepping into an unknown and one that will likely change me.  Consciously choosing to move forward and knowing there is no going back.  The knowledge and awareness that I gain from this experience will not leave when I come home.

So is it the unknown and stepping into it that is so difficult? People stay in uncomfortable, unhealthy situations all the time, things that cause them pain and they choose not to move to a better situation. I'm in a good place so my actions might or might not make things better and yet I still go.

Am I nuts to actively be choosing to live in moderate discomfort for a relatively short period of time in order to be of serivce to humanity?  I don't think so.  

I wonder how others who are reading this serve their communities.  There are so many ways that help can be given from driving a neighbor to the store, to financially supporting a groups whose values you hold dear.  Not everyone can or needs to travel to Haiti in order to make a difference.

• some barely worn t-shirts with me that I had been trying to decide how to re-cycle
•  four freecycled tents and some rope *there are still families living under sheets and the rainy season is about to begin*