After two months patiently, ok mostly patiently, waiting I climbed into the Landrover for the 5 hour trip to Santo Domingo. Finally! Shopping for real things in the "American section!" High on the list...a lawnmower for the grounds here at the retreat center, El Centro.
I even managed to forget that things here always seem to arrive with an appetizer - an opportunity to stretch and grow and (sigh) earn graces.
In this case, the lawn mower was easily attained at Ferreteria Americana (The American Hardware Store) - a poor attempt at a Lowes/Home Depot.
Somehow it didn't look to be the quality I was hoping for, and MTD was not the brand I was looking for. But it had a Briggs & Stratton motor - a 6hp B&S even! And large back wheels even if they were plastic instead of the metal I had been dreaming of. But I focused on that B & S and took the plunge! WooHoo!
To my dismay after purchasing the lawn mower for the parish on my credit card, the cashier started ringing up my personal items and... my card was declined. 5 hours from home. The next trip possibly weeks or months away and my card was declined. I came to find out that even though I had more than enough money in my account, the credit card had a daily limit on it for international transactions. Eep! Make that grrrrr!
But wait, there was an ATM machine on the other side of the complex! So Lulun and I went racing over with our check-out lane shut down. I pulled out cash in smaller increments until I hit the absolute ceiling. 10 minutes later, I was able to pay for half of my items. The cashier agreed to put the cart to the side and let us return the next day to pay for it. As much as I HATE this sort of "embarrassing" scene, I was somehow beyond caring about having my card declined in front of everyone, and having tons of items put back into a cart and pushed to the side.
The next day saw an encore performance. The cart was still there! I eeked all the cash out of my card that I could, then paid for the rest of my items. On to the PriceMart where they had American food in large quantities (think PriceClub)! I waited nervously as the cashier rang my items up. Lulun assured me I had enough cash in hand. I wasn't convinced. Boy was I happy to be outed as a worry wart! :)
The short version of the story (yes it could be much longer) is that we made it back to Banica!
The next day, I carefully explained to Manuel (realizing, of course, that he speaks less English than I do Spanish) that he was to be on sharp lookout for rocks. If he saw any protruding above ground level he was to stop, dig them up and toss them in the driveway. And if the lawn mower blade hit a rock, he better get it dug up pronto! I didn't care how much longer it took to finish the job this first time.
He said he understood perfectly and not to worry. He started mowing and I headed off for a meeting. I returned to find a good bit of the center grounds nicely mowed. Success!
How fleeting the good things often prove to be. The next morning, we started the lawn mower... the blade FELL OFF! As in, "Clang!" the blade hit the ground and slid out from under the mower!
What was I going to tell Father?!! He was in the US (his departure, the trip that got me to the capitol). He hadn't even seen the bill yet and the lawn mower was already in pieces!
Upon examination, the mounting bracket had broken, and the bolt had, in turn, snapped. I picked up the blade. After a single day of use, it was in the worst condition of any blade I have ever seen. After a mere single day of use, the blade was mangled by rocks.
Here the story splits a bit.
Part one: Samantha (a fellow missionary, who unlike me does speak fluent Spanish without having to play charades) teased Manuel a bit about breaking the lawn mower. Now realize that he is talking about a lawn mower with a 6hp Briggs & Stratton motor on it ( a typical push mower has a 2 to 3hp motore)... He told her that it is "not a good lawn mower". That it is "very weak because it does not..... pass thru the rocks easily...."
I didn't know. I still don't know. Someone please tell me, do I laugh or cry at that? Perhaps I laugh tears? Or Cry laughter? Perhaps you can cry and I can laugh? Wait! I want to cry!
Part two: Danni hopped on his motorcycle and took the broken part to Las Matas (the nearest "real" town). We followed a bit later with the snapped bolt. Amazingly Danni found us in Las Matas. He been successful in getting the piece welded back together!
Why 2 trips for a 45 minute trip? Because I had to go to Las Matas anyway, but couldn't leave immediately. I had a large (100 pound) inverter to drop off for repair. And I was afraid that if the broken piece didn't get to Las Matas as soon as possible that it would not be able to be repaired the same day.
Why didn't I give the bolt to Danni? Because it was a "hardened" bolt and I was sure Danni didn't know the difference no matter what he would tell me. And I'd end up with a low grade bolt that would quickly snap in two again.
For our part, we visited 4 hardware stores and 3 auto parts store. The bolt we needed to secure the blade to the lawnmower is not to be found in Las Matas. That was Friday. Hopefully Wednesday when Lulun makes his "hospital run" to San Juan (about 40 minutes beyond Las Matas and a bit larger) on Wednesday, he will be able to find the bolt we need. If not, it will require a trip to the capitol (4-5 hours) to get the lawn mower repaired.
And so the saga of the lawn mower continues. Perhaps in a daze? Perhaps a bit like a mad man? I was heard walking around that day muttering "Una dia. Una dia". That is, "One day. One day" (all that was needed to break the lawn more I had been eagerly awaiting for months).
(more...)
Monday, November 17, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Only 25 Miles To Go
As evening started to roll in, we pulled into Thomassique ending our six and a half hour journey. "How I wished we had a better transport vehicle," I thought to myself earlier that day as we had loaded up the huge old and long-retired army truck before embarking from Banica on what on what we expected to be a 2 or 2 and a half hour trip.
Banica resides in the Dominican Republic just across the border from Thomassique, Haiti. The actual distance is less than 25 miles. And yet the terrain and the extreme harshness of the road make the normal 150 minute trip seem like a life time. Two and a half hours in pelting summer heat as the truck bounces across the rocky road, slugs it way thru mud holes, crawls up hillsides that might make a mountain goat think twice. Part of the journey we travel the "International Highway". I can think of many names for that stretch of "road". "Highway" is not one of them.
This particular day the roads were extremely muddy after heavy rains. Since the roads are not properly engineered to provide drainage. Since they are dirt. Since they have no equipment to keep them level or to push mud off after a rain storm, bad things happen whenever it rains. We found out this day.
After going "off-road" several times to get around particularly treacherous stretches of quagmire the locals called a road, we met our match. We paid two locals to have them take down a section of their fence and let us drive across their property. And then we went back onto the road. And we sank. And sank some more. A good 3 feet of mud - enough that even our lion-hearted truck could not make its way thru.
Banica resides in the Dominican Republic just across the border from Thomassique, Haiti. The actual distance is less than 25 miles. And yet the terrain and the extreme harshness of the road make the normal 150 minute trip seem like a life time. Two and a half hours in pelting summer heat as the truck bounces across the rocky road, slugs it way thru mud holes, crawls up hillsides that might make a mountain goat think twice. Part of the journey we travel the "International Highway". I can think of many names for that stretch of "road". "Highway" is not one of them.
This particular day the roads were extremely muddy after heavy rains. Since the roads are not properly engineered to provide drainage. Since they are dirt. Since they have no equipment to keep them level or to push mud off after a rain storm, bad things happen whenever it rains. We found out this day.
After going "off-road" several times to get around particularly treacherous stretches of quagmire the locals called a road, we met our match. We paid two locals to have them take down a section of their fence and let us drive across their property. And then we went back onto the road. And we sank. And sank some more. A good 3 feet of mud - enough that even our lion-hearted truck could not make its way thru.
The locals tried to dig us out. We tried to winch ourselves out, but the cable snapped. Finally hours later, someone managed to get a tractor to come our way. After several failed attempts and several nervous moments as the tractor itself seemed on the verge of getting trapped in the muck, the truck was pulled free to a rousing cheer from the hundred or so locals who were watching.
"We are home free!! What more could go wrong after that?!!" I thought to myself. As we hurried along, fighting our way thru new mud holes, struggling up steep hills, and finally bouncing over brutally rocky ground we heard a loud clank and the bed of the truck sagged sharply to one side. We pulled to a stop to discover that one of the rear truck springs had "busted" and the rear axle was coming detached from the truck!
Fortunately, our driver is an resourceful fellow. He managed to wrap a heavy iron chain around the dislodged axle and secure it well enough that we were able to limp the final half hour into Thomassique! We were leaking brake fluid. Possibly transmission fluid. The right side of the truck was resting on the wheels. But our magnificent beast had refused to die until it had us safely to our destination.
The next day we took an alternate route home. We got dropped at a river crossing. Waded that river, walked a mile to a second and larger river. Once there, we paid local men to take us across the river on make shift rafts. Safely on the other side, we hired 4 motorcyclists to take us the rest of the way back to Banica.
I was so bruised from all the bouncing that I couldn't sit normally for days. But despite its lack of beauty, its extremely bouncy ride, it's belching engine, I came to love that ugly old truck that day. No normal vehicle could have made that journey across that particular 25 mile stretch of road. Not the finest luxury sedan. Not a 4-wheel drive pickup. Not the dump truck that we passed which was buried to its bed in mud.
But as much as I now love that old green beast, I dream! How life changing it would be for the people who live here to have reasonably passable roads. To have culverts in sections with poor drainage. To have fill dirt, gravel, stone to fill in low trouble spots. To have equipment to maintain and repair their road. What a lovely dream it is to think of a 25 mile trip taking less than an hour!
Note: I have photos from the trip in my album: Haiti Adventure. The photos of the muddy road do not even come close to showing just how bad they were in "real life".
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Me and my George Foreman
"Yes", I thought as I slid the grill into a huge ziplock bag and stuffed it in a suitcase, "me and my George Foreman will get along just fine on that little island!"
I don't cook much. Well I don't really cook at all - I leave the cooking to my beloved George Foreman grill. But even when I pull George out of the garage, my culinary talents are pretty limited. Though at my little house back in Virginia, I thought I cooked up a snazzy grilled chicken breast. I had visions of that as I packed for the Caribbean. Cooling breeze tickling across the lawn under serene blue skies as I sliced into a huge, juicy chicken breast.
Fast forward a little... a rooster crow... another rooster crow... perhaps the 30th rooster crowing... rudely awakens me... as I try to get to sleep... at night. At that's just the beginning of the problems of chickens here in this place! They cannot tell time. They crow continually. Those who went to school: err-err-err-err! Those who dropped out, a pathetic sounding: err-err-err! Day: err-err-err-err! Night: err-err-err-err! And even in between day and night: err-err-err-err! I didn't think there was such a time, but I am certain there must be now. Heck, they're crowing as I write this!
As much as they crow, you'd think they laid all the eggs. But of course they don't. Worse still, they do not come in clean, neat packages of plump, juicy Perdue chicken breasts - ready to marinate and throw to George. No. That same crowing mud-caked rooster that is strutting around, pawing the ground, leaving feathers and other gifts all over is the same rooster that might show up on my threshold a few hours later. This time making an appearance in a big messy package that I am supposed to slice and hack at only to salvage a puny little breast from that slab of bones and fat.
(sigh)
Somehow I have not yet made the trek to the local chicken lady's house. Just not quite ready for that conversation, "Yes... that one... he looks like he'll be delicious, don't you think? Thank you, but no. I'll come back. Seeing a chicken running around minus its head was a treat the first time. I don't think I could endure such pleasure twice... Oh thank you! But no, really... you keep the claws - my special gift to you. I really didn't feel like eating claw of chicken today."
So poor George has had to settle for some lesser cuts of beef (though I am not certain that some of that was beef), pork chops and ham. I am a bit worried about ol' George, I think he was addicted to those plump, juicy Perdues!
Speaking of food, I don't know if I am losing weight or not. But Caribbean Tom is definitely eating a lot less Strasburg Tom did. The big meal here is lunch. Everyone eats a large lunch - when it is typically hot outside. A large meal in the middle of a hot day? Are you kidding me?!! No wonder everyone takes 1 to 2 hour lunches. I bet they aren't even able to crawl away from the table sometimes before they begin their siestas. But no worries, I am sure that smashed yucca makes a very soft pillow! At least back in the day in East Texas, on the farm in Lufkin, the men of the family managed to get over to the couch before they dozed off! :)
Heat and eating just don't mix. Heat and cooking? As my Dominican friend Lulun likes to say, "Claro". But heat and eating? Ummm..... No. Many days, I just can't quite eat as much as I know I really WANT to. So I hardly ever feel quite full even though I don't often don't feel quite hungry either. I walk around feeling like I am hungry and thinking I am ready to eat. But once I sit down intent on tackling that hunger, I find I can't quite get the job done. And even as I am sitting there, I know that within an hour I am going to be wishing I could have taken a few more bites... of rice... and beans...
Life is so aMAZing here. Every day I wake up wishing for rice and beans for lunch. And so far my wish has been granted every day. Well every day except for maybe 4 or 5 - out of 60. Not that I am counting or anything. I am one of those boring people who can eat some things over and over and over without minding. Luckily for me, rice and beans are on the list of those foods. Sadly not as high on that list as Perdue chicken breasts.
Well at least I can still dream of eating scrumptious Perdue chicken breasts in the cool of my house... until the next rooster crows. :) (more...)
I don't cook much. Well I don't really cook at all - I leave the cooking to my beloved George Foreman grill. But even when I pull George out of the garage, my culinary talents are pretty limited. Though at my little house back in Virginia, I thought I cooked up a snazzy grilled chicken breast. I had visions of that as I packed for the Caribbean. Cooling breeze tickling across the lawn under serene blue skies as I sliced into a huge, juicy chicken breast.
Fast forward a little... a rooster crow... another rooster crow... perhaps the 30th rooster crowing... rudely awakens me... as I try to get to sleep... at night. At that's just the beginning of the problems of chickens here in this place! They cannot tell time. They crow continually. Those who went to school: err-err-err-err! Those who dropped out, a pathetic sounding: err-err-err! Day: err-err-err-err! Night: err-err-err-err! And even in between day and night: err-err-err-err! I didn't think there was such a time, but I am certain there must be now. Heck, they're crowing as I write this!
As much as they crow, you'd think they laid all the eggs. But of course they don't. Worse still, they do not come in clean, neat packages of plump, juicy Perdue chicken breasts - ready to marinate and throw to George. No. That same crowing mud-caked rooster that is strutting around, pawing the ground, leaving feathers and other gifts all over is the same rooster that might show up on my threshold a few hours later. This time making an appearance in a big messy package that I am supposed to slice and hack at only to salvage a puny little breast from that slab of bones and fat.
(sigh)
Somehow I have not yet made the trek to the local chicken lady's house. Just not quite ready for that conversation, "Yes... that one... he looks like he'll be delicious, don't you think? Thank you, but no. I'll come back. Seeing a chicken running around minus its head was a treat the first time. I don't think I could endure such pleasure twice... Oh thank you! But no, really... you keep the claws - my special gift to you. I really didn't feel like eating claw of chicken today."
So poor George has had to settle for some lesser cuts of beef (though I am not certain that some of that was beef), pork chops and ham. I am a bit worried about ol' George, I think he was addicted to those plump, juicy Perdues!
Speaking of food, I don't know if I am losing weight or not. But Caribbean Tom is definitely eating a lot less Strasburg Tom did. The big meal here is lunch. Everyone eats a large lunch - when it is typically hot outside. A large meal in the middle of a hot day? Are you kidding me?!! No wonder everyone takes 1 to 2 hour lunches. I bet they aren't even able to crawl away from the table sometimes before they begin their siestas. But no worries, I am sure that smashed yucca makes a very soft pillow! At least back in the day in East Texas, on the farm in Lufkin, the men of the family managed to get over to the couch before they dozed off! :)
Heat and eating just don't mix. Heat and cooking? As my Dominican friend Lulun likes to say, "Claro". But heat and eating? Ummm..... No. Many days, I just can't quite eat as much as I know I really WANT to. So I hardly ever feel quite full even though I don't often don't feel quite hungry either. I walk around feeling like I am hungry and thinking I am ready to eat. But once I sit down intent on tackling that hunger, I find I can't quite get the job done. And even as I am sitting there, I know that within an hour I am going to be wishing I could have taken a few more bites... of rice... and beans...
Life is so aMAZing here. Every day I wake up wishing for rice and beans for lunch. And so far my wish has been granted every day. Well every day except for maybe 4 or 5 - out of 60. Not that I am counting or anything. I am one of those boring people who can eat some things over and over and over without minding. Luckily for me, rice and beans are on the list of those foods. Sadly not as high on that list as Perdue chicken breasts.
Well at least I can still dream of eating scrumptious Perdue chicken breasts in the cool of my house... until the next rooster crows. :) (more...)
Sunday, September 21, 2008
More photos!
Eep! I had incorrect links on all these. They are fixed now to show the entire album instead of a single photo.
My apologies for not having captions on any of these yet. What I need is "Time! Time! Give me more time!" Now there's a riddle that should be easily solved. ;)
(more...)
My apologies for not having captions on any of these yet. What I need is "Time! Time! Give me more time!" Now there's a riddle that should be easily solved. ;)
 August 17, 2008Last bingo |
 August 24, 2008Last day of volleyball |
There would be more photos in this album if (ahem) my beloved family who made me endure posing for countless photos had sent even a single one of those photos to their isolated son/brother/uncle..... (ahem!) |
 August 31, 2008Dinner with Danni's family |
 September 6, 2008Kirby's farewell party |
 September 11, 2008Dave's last market day |
 September 12, 2008Kirby's depart |
 September 18, 2008Community leaders |
 Banica friends(A roster of) |
Friday, September 19, 2008
On My Own
The Kirby's left on Friday, September 12. It rained all night
leading up to their departure at 5am before the sun had roused himself. It rained after they left. I found water soaking the bottom of the fridge and pooled in the shower. Belmont (the "good" dog) sat at the corner of the house staring after them for several minutes. It seems all Banica mourned their parting. Truth be told, the Kirby's shed a few tears themselves. Banica might be poor, but there is much love here.
I have been told the Dominicans cannot tell time but (holding my breath), I think they are starting to learn that when I say they can ride bicycles between 2 and 4pm only, that I mostly mean between 2 and 4 only. Not at 8am or 10am or even 1:45pm. Because the ground is so rough and filled with stones and thorns, they are restricted to riding around the circular "patio". And as unexciting as that may seem to us Americans, the Dominican children will come eagerly day after day to get their turn riding round and round on an overgrown patio.
As I mentioned in a previous posting, only 3 of 7 bicycles were operational. So I have a "cinco minuto" rule - ride for 5 minutes and then the next boy/girl gets to ride. Today two of the boys fixed up 3 of the remaining bikes. I paid them 100 pesos total per bike. That is 3 bikes fixed and 300 Pesos to split (approximately $9US total). Now at the next bike outing I will have 6 bikes available! A historic moment in Banica. ;) I am intending to work "religion" into this but still haven't quite figured out how best to do it. Certainly an opening and closing prayer. But I want to more than just that with it - counting on a small jolt of divine inspiration!
The first day without the Kirby's was taxing, I have to admit. The usual moving, unpacking, cleaning, discovering how things work, giving the animals extra love as they clearly missed the Kirby's etc. Trying to keep the squabbles to a minimum for 2 hours of boys on bikes. Friday night I was ready to crash. The dogs decided to start barking at that very moment and continued. Incessantly. Past 3am. I sat on the couch strangely not sleepy - I am sure the barking had nothing to do with it.
Finally sleep announced its arrival and I stumbled down the hall toward bed. As I was lifting the mosquito netting, I heard heavy, and I mean heavy, breathing outside my window... What the heck?!!!! Cows! And it all became clear in a lightning flash. I had left the gate open and 4 cows had wandered (been herded?) in. The dogs were barking at the cows that were big enough not to be concerned by them. I was as happily surprised as you can be at 3:30 in the morning that a single angry yell from me thru the window sent them hurrying to another part of the El Centro grounds.
I crawled into bed. Finally! Sleep! Did I mention it rained most of the day? And when night came, it turned torrential. I personally know of two songs singing longingly of time spent under a tin roof with rain coming down. I bought it, until my time in Banica. A gentle rain, maybe. A heavy rain, much less a downpour? Forget about it, nothing pleasant in that. And it's very conducive to sleeping - at a later time when you are even more tired.
I was finally getting used to the rain (or tired enough for it not to matter) when "Kerthunk!" I was jerked rudely back to full attention! "What was that on my roof?!!" A few moments later... another "Kerthunk!". I was surely under attack! Someone was tossing grenades onto my roof! Then it hit me (the thought not the thing that went Kerthunk in the night), there is a tree just outside the bedroom window with lots and lots and lots of its fruit. Lots of its fruit ready to adorn the earth, but only after bouncing and clattering off the roof.
Of course this morning of all mornings, Danni arrived at 8am on his throaty motorcycle and hollered into the house to be sure I was alive after my first day alone in Banica. "No Danni, I wasn't violently jolted from sleep by your motorcycle, so it's a good thing you yelled into the house or I'd have never known you were here." (good thing he doesn't speak English or he might have missed the joke.) "Thank you Danni, but no, I don't have any work for you today. And thank you again for making sure I didn't get enough sleep.". I crawled back to bed. A few minutes later the phone rang. Down the hall. I got to it too late.
Since it seemed I was destined to not get any more sleep, I made myself a pbj. A bite and a half into it, Omero showed up wanting diesel for the pickup truck from the 55 gallon drums Father has stored here. I felt wrong not helping him. Before I could get back to my pbj... "Knock, knock" there was Fr. O'Hare.
Finally! Back to my sandwich...only to discover that I had unknowingly extended an invite for a picnic to the local ants that were happily enjoying the pbj sandwich. One of my sayings is "When all else fails... eat". I didn't know what to say in this case. I'm thinking, "If eating fails, get a stiff drink". This Saturday morning, I had a stiff mug of... coffee.
The coffee might have kept my eyelids propped open, but it did not energize me one bit. So Saturday was a low key day. I moved most of my things from the dormitory to the house. I used the electric sander on the front door so that it closes easily now. I drilled a hole in the backing of a bookshelf so I can power cords thru the back instead of around the front. Those who know me and my need to do things/have things "just so", will either smile knowingly or roll your eyes. Those who don't know me so well may also be inclined to roll their eyes. Luckily for you eye rollers, it was a low energy day and I called it a day after those two arduous tasks. :)
I ride the bicycle to town when I can. For the most part I drive about 2 miles a day - to mass and back. I would ride the bicycle for that also except that I hope getting a ride will encourage more of the residents to go to daily mass. And yet one thing seems to be becoming clear. I will do very little personal driving but one of my major expenses here will be fuel - diesel.
Diesel for the generator to be specific. The running joke is that Banica has power half the time. The rest of the time, you either have no electricity or if you are fortunate, you run a generator to provide for the down times. I am fortunate, so I run a generator. Dave (Kirby) said a gallon of diesel will run it for an hour. And typically the generator runs for 1 to 2 hours a day to charge the battery bank here. So I'll estimate 50 gallons a month and $5US/gallong for diesel. That's a guessitmated $250/month which will hopefully be my largest expense each month. It had better be! And I am really, really hoping that I have over estimated! :)
This past Sunday, I helped make tacos and homemade salsa for dinner with the priests and Michelle (a recent Christendom grad and current volunteer in Banica). Ok. Ok. Michelle did all the seasoning and the vast majority of the cooking, but I chopped up an onion, stirred the hamburger meat, and mashed the "refried" beans. So let me feel good about my culinary abilities for the briefest of moments. :)
Monday in preparation for an all-day trip to see the new "soup run" for this years "soup program", we took the truck to get the gas filled with diesel. And thanks be to God, the only gas station in Banica has diesel and gasoline again after being out of both for the last couple of... weeks... Ouch. Then Monday at lunch I found out that our Tuesday trip would most likely have to be cancelled anyway. It seems there is a large boulder blocking the road (too large for a couple of men to move) and no one knows when it will be moved. All I can tell you is that whenever that boulder gets moved and we are finally able to make the trip, I will not be driving! I'll most likely be grabbing something tightly with my eyes closed for parts of the ride - not a good thing for the driver to be doing.
I forgot to mention, Monday on the way to mass, the horn in the truck decided to blare of its own accord and without ceasing. The army trucks have a built in compressor. Whenever the engine runs, it builds up air pressure. There is a nozzle for an air hose for filling tires, etc. There are the brakes... until enough air pressure builds up, this huge truck does not have any brakes. And then there is the horn which it powers. It seems the valve for the horn had gotten dirty enough that it stuck open. As soon as enough pressure built up, air escaped thru the horn and well, it got louder and louder. So there I am at 6:45am with many people no doubt still sleeping, driving thru town with horn blaring, waving to the police officer at the check point as if all was normal. On the way home, I hooked the air hose up, and in one hand held the nozzle while pressing the valve with a screw driver - letting air escape to keep the pressure from building up enough to sound the horn while trying to watch the gauge so that I didn't completely kill the brakes. It worked! But let me tell you, driving a huge truck thru city streets without power steering, with people and a few cars and motor bikes on the other side of the road - or on your side - with one hand is a daunting task. There were a few interesting moments on the mile ride back to El Centro!
Wednesday night after holy hour it was dark. Quite dark. Just dark enough to make driving a huge army truck, without power steering thru town particularly interesting. Naturally, I needed something even more interesting in my life - surely an hour with our Lord in adoration wasn't enough. So there we were, the truck and I sitting at the curb with 3 expectant boys waiting for a ride home. "Hello truck. I've never driven you in the dark before. Do you have lights? Let's try this switch. That switch. Ruh Roh..." Father arrived with a flashlight, still no luck getting lights turned on. So I told Fr. that I'll drive real slow and with that he hammers the final nail in our coffin saying, "Well at least Banica has power and the street lights are on". He waved as we pulled away and was still standing there as not 50 feet down the road... Banica power went out... Gulp. I kept driving and feverishly flipping the same few switches again and again. And lo and behold, just before we got to the police check point, the lights came on!!
One a more serious note, there is another outbreak of Denge fever to contend with. The cook who works the afternoon shift in the rectory has come down with Denge. The government says that the best way to fight this is to eliminate free standing water.
As you can see from the photo, I have nothing to worry about here at El Centro.... And I'm sure the mosquitoes I have seen in my bathroom... right above the water that doesn't drain from the shower because the floor is not sloped correctly are... friendly... Right....
I have "my crew" of Atile, Manuel, and Danni spending the next few days driving the truck to get fill dirt to fill in the puddles you see in the photo as well as several others around the house. Mosquitoes be warned! :)
(more...)
leading up to their departure at 5am before the sun had roused himself. It rained after they left. I found water soaking the bottom of the fridge and pooled in the shower. Belmont (the "good" dog) sat at the corner of the house staring after them for several minutes. It seems all Banica mourned their parting. Truth be told, the Kirby's shed a few tears themselves. Banica might be poor, but there is much love here.
I have been told the Dominicans cannot tell time but (holding my breath), I think they are starting to learn that when I say they can ride bicycles between 2 and 4pm only, that I mostly mean between 2 and 4 only. Not at 8am or 10am or even 1:45pm. Because the ground is so rough and filled with stones and thorns, they are restricted to riding around the circular "patio". And as unexciting as that may seem to us Americans, the Dominican children will come eagerly day after day to get their turn riding round and round on an overgrown patio.
As I mentioned in a previous posting, only 3 of 7 bicycles were operational. So I have a "cinco minuto" rule - ride for 5 minutes and then the next boy/girl gets to ride. Today two of the boys fixed up 3 of the remaining bikes. I paid them 100 pesos total per bike. That is 3 bikes fixed and 300 Pesos to split (approximately $9US total). Now at the next bike outing I will have 6 bikes available! A historic moment in Banica. ;) I am intending to work "religion" into this but still haven't quite figured out how best to do it. Certainly an opening and closing prayer. But I want to more than just that with it - counting on a small jolt of divine inspiration!
The first day without the Kirby's was taxing, I have to admit. The usual moving, unpacking, cleaning, discovering how things work, giving the animals extra love as they clearly missed the Kirby's etc. Trying to keep the squabbles to a minimum for 2 hours of boys on bikes. Friday night I was ready to crash. The dogs decided to start barking at that very moment and continued. Incessantly. Past 3am. I sat on the couch strangely not sleepy - I am sure the barking had nothing to do with it.
Finally sleep announced its arrival and I stumbled down the hall toward bed. As I was lifting the mosquito netting, I heard heavy, and I mean heavy, breathing outside my window... What the heck?!!!! Cows! And it all became clear in a lightning flash. I had left the gate open and 4 cows had wandered (been herded?) in. The dogs were barking at the cows that were big enough not to be concerned by them. I was as happily surprised as you can be at 3:30 in the morning that a single angry yell from me thru the window sent them hurrying to another part of the El Centro grounds.
I crawled into bed. Finally! Sleep! Did I mention it rained most of the day? And when night came, it turned torrential. I personally know of two songs singing longingly of time spent under a tin roof with rain coming down. I bought it, until my time in Banica. A gentle rain, maybe. A heavy rain, much less a downpour? Forget about it, nothing pleasant in that. And it's very conducive to sleeping - at a later time when you are even more tired.
I was finally getting used to the rain (or tired enough for it not to matter) when "Kerthunk!" I was jerked rudely back to full attention! "What was that on my roof?!!" A few moments later... another "Kerthunk!". I was surely under attack! Someone was tossing grenades onto my roof! Then it hit me (the thought not the thing that went Kerthunk in the night), there is a tree just outside the bedroom window with lots and lots and lots of its fruit. Lots of its fruit ready to adorn the earth, but only after bouncing and clattering off the roof.
Of course this morning of all mornings, Danni arrived at 8am on his throaty motorcycle and hollered into the house to be sure I was alive after my first day alone in Banica. "No Danni, I wasn't violently jolted from sleep by your motorcycle, so it's a good thing you yelled into the house or I'd have never known you were here." (good thing he doesn't speak English or he might have missed the joke.
Since it seemed I was destined to not get any more sleep, I made myself a pbj. A bite and a half into it, Omero showed up wanting diesel for the pickup truck from the 55 gallon drums Father has stored here. I felt wrong not helping him. Before I could get back to my pbj... "Knock, knock" there was Fr. O'Hare.
Finally! Back to my sandwich...only to discover that I had unknowingly extended an invite for a picnic to the local ants that were happily enjoying the pbj sandwich. One of my sayings is "When all else fails... eat". I didn't know what to say in this case. I'm thinking, "If eating fails, get a stiff drink". This Saturday morning, I had a stiff mug of... coffee.
The coffee might have kept my eyelids propped open, but it did not energize me one bit. So Saturday was a low key day. I moved most of my things from the dormitory to the house. I used the electric sander on the front door so that it closes easily now. I drilled a hole in the backing of a bookshelf so I can power cords thru the back instead of around the front. Those who know me and my need to do things/have things "just so", will either smile knowingly or roll your eyes. Those who don't know me so well may also be inclined to roll their eyes. Luckily for you eye rollers, it was a low energy day and I called it a day after those two arduous tasks. :)
I ride the bicycle to town when I can. For the most part I drive about 2 miles a day - to mass and back. I would ride the bicycle for that also except that I hope getting a ride will encourage more of the residents to go to daily mass. And yet one thing seems to be becoming clear. I will do very little personal driving but one of my major expenses here will be fuel - diesel.
Diesel for the generator to be specific. The running joke is that Banica has power half the time. The rest of the time, you either have no electricity or if you are fortunate, you run a generator to provide for the down times. I am fortunate, so I run a generator. Dave (Kirby) said a gallon of diesel will run it for an hour. And typically the generator runs for 1 to 2 hours a day to charge the battery bank here. So I'll estimate 50 gallons a month and $5US/gallong for diesel. That's a guessitmated $250/month which will hopefully be my largest expense each month. It had better be! And I am really, really hoping that I have over estimated! :)
This past Sunday, I helped make tacos and homemade salsa for dinner with the priests and Michelle (a recent Christendom grad and current volunteer in Banica). Ok. Ok. Michelle did all the seasoning and the vast majority of the cooking, but I chopped up an onion, stirred the hamburger meat, and mashed the "refried" beans. So let me feel good about my culinary abilities for the briefest of moments. :)
Monday in preparation for an all-day trip to see the new "soup run" for this years "soup program", we took the truck to get the gas filled with diesel. And thanks be to God, the only gas station in Banica has diesel and gasoline again after being out of both for the last couple of... weeks... Ouch. Then Monday at lunch I found out that our Tuesday trip would most likely have to be cancelled anyway. It seems there is a large boulder blocking the road (too large for a couple of men to move) and no one knows when it will be moved. All I can tell you is that whenever that boulder gets moved and we are finally able to make the trip, I will not be driving! I'll most likely be grabbing something tightly with my eyes closed for parts of the ride - not a good thing for the driver to be doing.
I forgot to mention, Monday on the way to mass, the horn in the truck decided to blare of its own accord and without ceasing. The army trucks have a built in compressor. Whenever the engine runs, it builds up air pressure. There is a nozzle for an air hose for filling tires, etc. There are the brakes... until enough air pressure builds up, this huge truck does not have any brakes. And then there is the horn which it powers. It seems the valve for the horn had gotten dirty enough that it stuck open. As soon as enough pressure built up, air escaped thru the horn and well, it got louder and louder. So there I am at 6:45am with many people no doubt still sleeping, driving thru town with horn blaring, waving to the police officer at the check point as if all was normal. On the way home, I hooked the air hose up, and in one hand held the nozzle while pressing the valve with a screw driver - letting air escape to keep the pressure from building up enough to sound the horn while trying to watch the gauge so that I didn't completely kill the brakes. It worked! But let me tell you, driving a huge truck thru city streets without power steering, with people and a few cars and motor bikes on the other side of the road - or on your side - with one hand is a daunting task. There were a few interesting moments on the mile ride back to El Centro!
Wednesday night after holy hour it was dark. Quite dark. Just dark enough to make driving a huge army truck, without power steering thru town particularly interesting. Naturally, I needed something even more interesting in my life - surely an hour with our Lord in adoration wasn't enough. So there we were, the truck and I sitting at the curb with 3 expectant boys waiting for a ride home. "Hello truck. I've never driven you in the dark before. Do you have lights? Let's try this switch. That switch. Ruh Roh..." Father arrived with a flashlight, still no luck getting lights turned on. So I told Fr. that I'll drive real slow and with that he hammers the final nail in our coffin saying, "Well at least Banica has power and the street lights are on". He waved as we pulled away and was still standing there as not 50 feet down the road... Banica power went out... Gulp. I kept driving and feverishly flipping the same few switches again and again. And lo and behold, just before we got to the police check point, the lights came on!!
One a more serious note, there is another outbreak of Denge fever to contend with. The cook who works the afternoon shift in the rectory has come down with Denge. The government says that the best way to fight this is to eliminate free standing water.
As you can see from the photo, I have nothing to worry about here at El Centro.... And I'm sure the mosquitoes I have seen in my bathroom... right above the water that doesn't drain from the shower because the floor is not sloped correctly are... friendly... Right....
I have "my crew" of Atile, Manuel, and Danni spending the next few days driving the truck to get fill dirt to fill in the puddles you see in the photo as well as several others around the house. Mosquitoes be warned! :)
Sunday, September 7, 2008
The first few days
I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore! Where is Toto when he is needed? ;) Things are the same here as they were there.
And yet so much of life's small details are so very different. From day one the most difficult thing has been the showers. I have quickly decided that showers without hot water are not my favorite thing. Showers without hot water with lips pressed tightly closed to prevent any water "leaking" in are also not my favorite thing. And these showers at 6am in the morning are definitely not among my favorite things. No disrespect to "Sound of Music," but I don't think "Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels" will change that. ;)
But perhaps the worst part of the showers is that I just don't feel clean after taking one. And my feet seem like they are dirty before I even get back to my room. Perhaps that is the secret to the Dominican "tan"? Defintitely near the top of my list when I get back to civilization will be to take a nice, l-o-n-g hot shower!
A little from my first few days here:
The arrival. It turns out the vast throng at the airport waving flags was not there to welcome me to Banica. I was most disappointed... They were there to greet their returning Olympic hero. Unlike the US which would be devastated if their Olympic team returned with a mere single gold medal, a single gold medal (in boxing) was cause for a celebratory parade here in the Dominican Republic.
Day 1: Morning mass is at 7am Monday thru Friday. For being such a notorious night owl, I have adjusted pretty easily. At my very first mass, Fr. O'Hare introduced me to the congregation and informed them that I did not speak Spanish. Then in his wonderful way, he told them that my presence here was a good opportunity for them to practice their English. :)
The afternoon activities will surely surprise many of you. I played catch with a baseball with the local youth, whom I have dubbed the "El Centro Gang". They have no idea what I have in store for them! Baseball and bike riding and other fun things will come at a price. I am sure they will be spending more time at church and in prayer than they could have imagined in their worst nightmares!
Day 4: After a few days of following Dave Kirby around trying to assimilate everything he knows (forget Toto, where are the borg when you need them?!!), Saturday arrived and with it, the Kirby's "Thank you" party for all those they've worked with these last 2 years. I took photos and will be posting them once I have both the time and energy for the task at the same time. ;)
Of course I had to spend most of the afternoon tossing the baseball around while completely ignoring the adults. Then again, speaking Spanish is not a prerequisite for throwing a baseball!
Day 5: Sunday began with the 7am mass. Lunch was at the home of Dany (pronounced more "Donny" than "Danny"). None of the houses are large enough to enable eating a family meal inside. So if it rains, lunch/dinner invites are cancelled. Luckily it did not rain this day. Dany and his family did not eat - all the food was for the guests. I don't know if they ate before we arrived or if they only got the remains. I am not sure I want to know the answer to that - especially after I forced myself to eat a couple large slices of beet. It seems beets are well loved by the natives. I sure hope I didn't force some down while Dany and family went without one of their beloved dishes.
Later Sunday afternoon, Dany and his extended family joined us at the river. We brought along several inner tubes. The men and boys all went first with the tubes. When they had made several floats, I tried to give a tube to one of the young ladies. Dany corrected me wagging his finger, "No! Los hombres primero". (sigh)
Day 6/7: Rain. No internet connection. And a little more rain for good measure. I also practiced with the "Sunday Choir". It is amazing, the Lord has again put me somewhere that is in dire enough need of a voice, any voice, that they actually consider me helpful for their choir - even without me yet speaking Spanish.
Day 8: Wednesday I drove the military truck for the first time. On a practice "soup run". Down a dirt road. Down a pot-hole filled dirt road. Down a dirt road with a thick layer of chocolate frosting that you might know as mud. And around hair-pin turns with steep hillside waiting to munch the truck on one side and a deep ravine waiting to swallow it whole on the other. And meanwhile me making my maiden voyage behind the wheel of a truck with a turning radius that might be a wee bit smaller than that of the Titanic. Dave did not volunteer to drive on the way home....I assure you, I did not wait long enough to give him the chance before informing him it was his turn to drive. ;)
After the Wednesday evening Holy Hour (6pm), I had dinner with Frs. O'Hare and Murphy. I can be a bit dense at times, but I am about to figure out that rice and beans are the only thing worth eating every day... It was good to sit down and relax for a few moments while also managing to tackle a few things on the radar screen for new employer and employee.
Day 9: The Kirby's made the 4-5 hour trip to Santo Domingo for a few days of well-earned vacation before they return to the U.S. this week. They toured the colonial part of the city and came away very impressed and pleased at all they saw and learned.
Meanwhile, I was on my own for the first time. Well except for the animals. The animals who were mopey and seemed to demand extra attention now that there was only one person to care for them instead of five. Alone except for the El Centro Gang who love to stand at the gate and yell, incessantly "Weeellliam", "Weeellliam", "Senor Toma(s)".
("Weeellliam" is the 8 year old William Kirby whom the local boys had been told many times was in Santo Domingo. "Senor Toma" - Dominicans speak their own version of Spanish. "S's" at the ends of words are usually silent).
Wouldn't have been so bad if it didn't start before 10am and continue all day. Though I must say it blends in nicely with the raucous chorus from the guineas that have adopted El Centro as their sacred tribal home. Oh and the roosters who unlike many Dominicans are quite industrious... they crow all day and all night. And the dogs didn't want to be left out of the fun, they bark just to let me know they are still there. And it simply would not be complete without the occasional might trumpet blast of an offended donkey that dominates all other sounds. Yes I was truly alone for those few days...
Day 10: I drove "the beast" (military truck) into Las Matas, the closest "city" to Banica. I need practice driving the truck and I needed bicycle tubes to fix the bicycle fleet here at El Centro for the boys. Seemed like driving the truck to Las Matas was the perfect answer. Wrong! It was just this side of miraculous that I made it thru Las Matas and safely home without hitting anyone or anything. It was very nerve wracking!
Day 11: There are 7 bicycles here. I had tubes to fix all of them. It turns out that the El Centro Gang had continued to ride them all even when the tires were flat. So after the harrowing experience driving thru Las Matas for tubes, I have 3 bikes back on the road and 4 that are out of commisssion. The other 4 have a bicycle rim that is basically destroyed from having been ridden while flat.
Day 11: Sunday. Today. Sang at mass this morning. We sang "Dona Nobis Pacem". What an absolutely beautiful song! Naturally, Juan and I (the bass section and only male voices) did our part to make sure it was not perfectly angelic. It seems Juan has my disease - he likes to follow the melody on occasion instead of sticking to the bass part. (sigh)
Last night we had some torrential rain. You really have not experienced a downpour until you have expereienced it under a thin tin roof. I had thought rain was good "sleeping noise". I am learning so much! ;) Today the rain has stopped (for now?) and the wind has picked up. I am guessing 20-30mph gusts. Hopefully that is the worst we get from our DLF (for all you Chronicles fans!) - Ike.
That will do it for now. Hope everyone who reads this is doing well and having a wonderful day. May our dearest Lord bless each and every one of you! :)
Tom
And yet so much of life's small details are so very different. From day one the most difficult thing has been the showers. I have quickly decided that showers without hot water are not my favorite thing. Showers without hot water with lips pressed tightly closed to prevent any water "leaking" in are also not my favorite thing. And these showers at 6am in the morning are definitely not among my favorite things. No disrespect to "Sound of Music," but I don't think "Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels" will change that. ;)
But perhaps the worst part of the showers is that I just don't feel clean after taking one. And my feet seem like they are dirty before I even get back to my room. Perhaps that is the secret to the Dominican "tan"? Defintitely near the top of my list when I get back to civilization will be to take a nice, l-o-n-g hot shower!
A little from my first few days here:
The arrival. It turns out the vast throng at the airport waving flags was not there to welcome me to Banica. I was most disappointed... They were there to greet their returning Olympic hero. Unlike the US which would be devastated if their Olympic team returned with a mere single gold medal, a single gold medal (in boxing) was cause for a celebratory parade here in the Dominican Republic.
Day 1: Morning mass is at 7am Monday thru Friday. For being such a notorious night owl, I have adjusted pretty easily. At my very first mass, Fr. O'Hare introduced me to the congregation and informed them that I did not speak Spanish. Then in his wonderful way, he told them that my presence here was a good opportunity for them to practice their English. :)
The afternoon activities will surely surprise many of you. I played catch with a baseball with the local youth, whom I have dubbed the "El Centro Gang". They have no idea what I have in store for them! Baseball and bike riding and other fun things will come at a price. I am sure they will be spending more time at church and in prayer than they could have imagined in their worst nightmares!
Day 4: After a few days of following Dave Kirby around trying to assimilate everything he knows (forget Toto, where are the borg when you need them?!!), Saturday arrived and with it, the Kirby's "Thank you" party for all those they've worked with these last 2 years. I took photos and will be posting them once I have both the time and energy for the task at the same time. ;)
Of course I had to spend most of the afternoon tossing the baseball around while completely ignoring the adults. Then again, speaking Spanish is not a prerequisite for throwing a baseball!
Day 5: Sunday began with the 7am mass. Lunch was at the home of Dany (pronounced more "Donny" than "Danny"). None of the houses are large enough to enable eating a family meal inside. So if it rains, lunch/dinner invites are cancelled. Luckily it did not rain this day. Dany and his family did not eat - all the food was for the guests. I don't know if they ate before we arrived or if they only got the remains. I am not sure I want to know the answer to that - especially after I forced myself to eat a couple large slices of beet. It seems beets are well loved by the natives. I sure hope I didn't force some down while Dany and family went without one of their beloved dishes.
Later Sunday afternoon, Dany and his extended family joined us at the river. We brought along several inner tubes. The men and boys all went first with the tubes. When they had made several floats, I tried to give a tube to one of the young ladies. Dany corrected me wagging his finger, "No! Los hombres primero". (sigh)
Day 6/7: Rain. No internet connection. And a little more rain for good measure. I also practiced with the "Sunday Choir". It is amazing, the Lord has again put me somewhere that is in dire enough need of a voice, any voice, that they actually consider me helpful for their choir - even without me yet speaking Spanish.
Day 8: Wednesday I drove the military truck for the first time. On a practice "soup run". Down a dirt road. Down a pot-hole filled dirt road. Down a dirt road with a thick layer of chocolate frosting that you might know as mud. And around hair-pin turns with steep hillside waiting to munch the truck on one side and a deep ravine waiting to swallow it whole on the other. And meanwhile me making my maiden voyage behind the wheel of a truck with a turning radius that might be a wee bit smaller than that of the Titanic. Dave did not volunteer to drive on the way home....I assure you, I did not wait long enough to give him the chance before informing him it was his turn to drive. ;)
After the Wednesday evening Holy Hour (6pm), I had dinner with Frs. O'Hare and Murphy. I can be a bit dense at times, but I am about to figure out that rice and beans are the only thing worth eating every day... It was good to sit down and relax for a few moments while also managing to tackle a few things on the radar screen for new employer and employee.
Day 9: The Kirby's made the 4-5 hour trip to Santo Domingo for a few days of well-earned vacation before they return to the U.S. this week. They toured the colonial part of the city and came away very impressed and pleased at all they saw and learned.
Meanwhile, I was on my own for the first time. Well except for the animals. The animals who were mopey and seemed to demand extra attention now that there was only one person to care for them instead of five. Alone except for the El Centro Gang who love to stand at the gate and yell, incessantly "Weeellliam", "Weeellliam", "Senor Toma(s)".
("Weeellliam" is the 8 year old William Kirby whom the local boys had been told many times was in Santo Domingo. "Senor Toma" - Dominicans speak their own version of Spanish. "S's" at the ends of words are usually silent).
Wouldn't have been so bad if it didn't start before 10am and continue all day. Though I must say it blends in nicely with the raucous chorus from the guineas that have adopted El Centro as their sacred tribal home. Oh and the roosters who unlike many Dominicans are quite industrious... they crow all day and all night. And the dogs didn't want to be left out of the fun, they bark just to let me know they are still there. And it simply would not be complete without the occasional might trumpet blast of an offended donkey that dominates all other sounds. Yes I was truly alone for those few days...
Day 10: I drove "the beast" (military truck) into Las Matas, the closest "city" to Banica. I need practice driving the truck and I needed bicycle tubes to fix the bicycle fleet here at El Centro for the boys. Seemed like driving the truck to Las Matas was the perfect answer. Wrong! It was just this side of miraculous that I made it thru Las Matas and safely home without hitting anyone or anything. It was very nerve wracking!
Day 11: There are 7 bicycles here. I had tubes to fix all of them. It turns out that the El Centro Gang had continued to ride them all even when the tires were flat. So after the harrowing experience driving thru Las Matas for tubes, I have 3 bikes back on the road and 4 that are out of commisssion. The other 4 have a bicycle rim that is basically destroyed from having been ridden while flat.
Day 11: Sunday. Today. Sang at mass this morning. We sang "Dona Nobis Pacem". What an absolutely beautiful song! Naturally, Juan and I (the bass section and only male voices) did our part to make sure it was not perfectly angelic. It seems Juan has my disease - he likes to follow the melody on occasion instead of sticking to the bass part. (sigh)
Last night we had some torrential rain. You really have not experienced a downpour until you have expereienced it under a thin tin roof. I had thought rain was good "sleeping noise". I am learning so much! ;) Today the rain has stopped (for now?) and the wind has picked up. I am guessing 20-30mph gusts. Hopefully that is the worst we get from our DLF (for all you Chronicles fans!) - Ike.
That will do it for now. Hope everyone who reads this is doing well and having a wonderful day. May our dearest Lord bless each and every one of you! :)
Tom
Friday, August 29, 2008
Banica - For Real
And so begins a new chapter of my life. I arrived in Banica "for real" on Tuesday, August 26. Despite a total of 9 hours sleep during my last 4 days in my old home and the tropical storm/hurricane between there and here, it was as easy a transition as I could have prayed for.
My wonderful family pitched in to get everything done that had to be done. So my last Thursday I was eating out at my favorite Manassas restaurant - Casa Chimayo - and then playing volleyball in Manassas as my sister made neatly packed boxes of the chaos in my living room. And that last Saturday, I was able to drive 3 hours for a last hike with a dear friend. And then that last Sunday, again found me with dear friends playing volleyball in the afternoon sun.
Even with all the help, as usual, I managed to run out of time. After one last evening with family, I spend the night moving data to cds to load on my new "missionary laptop". In the past I have always managed to finish even if at the last moment. Seems I turned over a new leaf there as well... my newphew was promised my desktop computer. It now comes at a cost... he has to finish burning hours and hours of my music to cd for me. Then the computer is his! :)
More to follow! (more...)
My wonderful family pitched in to get everything done that had to be done. So my last Thursday I was eating out at my favorite Manassas restaurant - Casa Chimayo - and then playing volleyball in Manassas as my sister made neatly packed boxes of the chaos in my living room. And that last Saturday, I was able to drive 3 hours for a last hike with a dear friend. And then that last Sunday, again found me with dear friends playing volleyball in the afternoon sun.
Even with all the help, as usual, I managed to run out of time. After one last evening with family, I spend the night moving data to cds to load on my new "missionary laptop". In the past I have always managed to finish even if at the last moment. Seems I turned over a new leaf there as well... my newphew was promised my desktop computer. It now comes at a cost... he has to finish burning hours and hours of my music to cd for me. Then the computer is his! :)
More to follow! (more...)
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