Crossroads.
My time off is not time off, indeed. I am a project leader for the 2 week volunteer bit, which means my new home is: http://dominicancrossroads.com/crossroadspictures.htmlDon't be fooled. My life is here: http://dominicancrossroads.com/villapictures.htmlwhich is a slice of heaven for the Haitian families who have homes here in Ascension.We have dreams. I'm not talking deep sleeping visions. I'm talking DREAMS. These people don't know the first thing about life outside of their hell. They have no tv, books, magazines, radio. No form of communication to give them a sense of the outside world. They Dream of Food. that's as far as they get."So I dream for them. I live to feed and serve the poor." Jana Amelingmeier
http://dominicancrossroads.com/childrenphotos.htmlMe talking: There are people in this world that I run into, and I find myself face to face with a hero. But their hearts beat just like mine. their bodies move like mine moves. In this case, even the name is the same. I'm talking about the Jana from the quote above. Check out what the students do 2 weeks before they're with me, and what I'm up to now- thank you Lord!www.dominicancrossroads.com
I apologize because every single sentence is an inside joke, but it's so fabulous that I had to post it!
Once upon a time in hispaniola, centuries after columbus first came ashore, a group of gringos from cities near and far (and canada too, eh) united in a banana-like fashion to distribute leche, do the conga, and save the world one blue shutter at a time. After unloading their "begs" they promptly began to drink, sweat, and puke brugal. Adorned with their golden mesh bracelets they brought blue bouncy balls and a map to the children's program. 20 tipico meals and 5 helpings of white-icing dessert (that's what she said) later, they asked themselves, "why are we walking when we could be dancing?" The answer was creepily clear: Suplise! The caller's upstairs! Later on, as they were pullling leaves off the trees and placing them neatly into the pool they began to wonder, "Que hora es senor lobo?" Suddenly mother superior and her little cyster turned on the hose beckoning everyone to their metal cots. As they slept, visions of boy bands and sugar canes danced in their heads. 5 hours, 2 donkeys, 27 dogs, 1 panda, ruffies and roosters later they woke up like a virgin. Their work here was done and it was time to say bye, bye miss canadian pie to their "responsible" drunk leaders, to the little boys who "love you for you," and the crazy old lady who lived in a shoe...I mean garbage dump. They arrived ready for their adventures with little pink dots gallore where they met Jana, known lovingly as Jyna, who would lead them into a bloody oblivion through el dudu, shortly after which they were subsequently scared shitless, literally. The next day they were treated to a delicious buffet and complimentary long-distance phone calls...Ha HA ha!! It wasn't until a rendez-vous with pube-lo, awkward, that they discovered all they need is ay amor and un pato. Un que? Many cuidados reverberated through the canyons as the group plunged to their deaths many a time (oh my gato!) via thrilling, adrenaline-filled activities with guides whose helmets mysteriously sprouted baby's legs...awkward, that's what she said! Sadly enough it was dominican time to sing one last round of Alabare and lean on me and say farewell or better yet hasta pronto to the memories, the friendships, and the tres monositos en la grande selva.
