Up early. Small plane to Cap Haitian. Probably worse garbage and poverty than in Port-au-Prince. Hotel Christophe was wonderful - there was running water and a hot shower. Something to look forward to this evening.

Trip to ICC Canadian (ICC Northern Office) office was informative -- though not ver exciting.

Took van on a tour of several projects, but had difficult time, as recent rains had made roads very difficult. One destination we did not reach, Port Margot, and tried to get to a different one, only to be blocked. A health clinic and school combination. At Bas Limbe (ba lambay) had a picnic lunch and then there was a lecture from Chi Chi of ICC. John Mark was our interpreter. I didn't attend the lecture but blew up all the balloons I had, and still needed were more. In fact, it nearly got ugly and I had to retreat into the house behind a locked gate.

After the visit, as we were walking through the muck and mire of a banana orchard, some older girls wanted Janet's rings and watch. She told them they were gifts from me and would not part with them.

During this adventure, in fact prior to the lunch, our van was blocked by a truck that had a flat. Wickman tried to go around it, and nearly ended up in a ditch. The group got out and a bunch of people, mostly Haitians, pushed it back and clear. All of us breathed a sign of relief. The van nearly rolled.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed some very miserable conditions. One really bothered me. We were going through Cap Haitian when I saw what I took to be a public garbage dump. Three children, a couple of pigs, goats and dogs were scavenging around together, when I saw a child, about three or four years, dig something out of the pile of that decaying filth and put it into his mouth and chew.

Ironic, isn't it, that when we got back to the hotel and ordered dinner, most of us had filet mignon?

But, before getting back to the hotel, we stopped at the Market -- a place Keith said was safe. We bought several items, I a walking stick, Janet some napkins, and a old woman sold us a napkin holder after some dickering. We got it for $2 and she gave me a kiss.. Others paid from $4 to $6.

It was a wonderful warm shower, a full night of electricity and I slept for 7 1/2 hours.

Janet didn't do as well and woke up feeling bit uneasy. Keith was prepared, gave her a couple of pink tablets, and it seemed to do the trick.

We went to the Citadel -- a large fort built to counter a threat by Napoleon. We drove on some rough road, but nothing like we had been on the previous days. We got to the Citadel by driving up the mountain about half-way, then by horse (though I am convinced they were working ponies). I pity the poor pony that carried me.

I had two guys on each side, one in front and one in back. The one in back was constantly swatting the poor beast to make it go. The buy up front kept yanking on the rope to get the horse to go forward.

Janet rode, too, but I didn't have time to get a picture of her. She walked back down because she said the ride frightened her.

The Citadel, near Milo. was very interesting. The joy of it, however, was ruined for us when the young people from Michigan insisted in walking to the very edge of the top wall. There was no retaining rail or wall. A slight gust of wind, a momentary incident of vertigo, or something so simple could send them plunging 600 feet straight down. I couldn't take it, and Janet and I went back down into the courtyard, a couple of stories below.

I used the men's toilet, and glad I only had to urinate, because when I lifted the lid there was no enclosure to contain the deposits. There was a hole, only it went straight - down with a view of about 550 feet. I could not have sat on that open space for anything.

The trip down the mountain was more difficult than going up. I stopped at one family and

made 5 balloons, only to look up about 50 nyards down the mountain and saw several families which had gathered to see the blan and, perhaps, also get balloons. We said bonswa (good evening) and they yelled back "Al-lo, al-lo," their version of hello, hello.

Most of the group stopped at the king's palace, but Janet and I stayed on the van because we didn't feel like walking down any more mountain. We reassembled and drove a short way to Milo and ate lunch at Lakou Lakay, a cultural center operated by a man named Maurice. He had served as our guide for the day, and his wife had prepared a fabulous meal -- including several things I had never eaten before, including Conk -- from the shell. It tastes like clam or crab. I liked it a lot. And another dish that looked like fried bananas, but tasted a lot like potato chips.

There was a band to entertain us, and dancers. We all danced with a young girl, and there were laughs galore when I did my best to gyrate to the music.

From there, it was to the Cap Haitian International Airport, and a 45-minute ride in a 16-passenger, single engine plane. The aisle was so narrow I had to struggle to get into the very back seat, and Angie rode in the co-pilot seat. We all prayed that she wouldn't tamper with the controls.

It was a good flight back to Port-au-Prince, and I was last to deplane. Janet let some airline people get my luggage off, and it cost me a dollar. But, that was OK. At the airport we were met by Pastor Susan, the volunteer chaplain and Grace and an elder on leave from West Ohio.

Back to our guest house, a quick cold shower. Janet and I washed out two pairs of slacks for me.

Michael told us the story of St. Joseph's Home for Boys It's an inspiring story. Better than that, Michael ran an extension cord from the UPS (uninterrupted power source) to my C-Pap and I was able to get sleep throughout the nights after that. Thanks Michael..

12/11/03

Slept until 6 am. It's nice to sleep late every now and then.

Today we went to the market. It was an experience but no fun. There was wall-to-wall people - pushing, shoving, jostling. Flies by the thousands on everything, causing a new sense of appreciation for USDA.

I did a belly bump with one of the vendors, to the delight of several folks around us. The trip to market was not easy for me. First the climb up the hill took a lot of my energy. We rode a tap-tap, at cost of 5 gourds - or about 13 cents.

We walked back to the guest house, and learned from Keith later that we were close to a mild but potentially dangerous demonstration by some political dissidents. There were a lot of stories about what and who was involved, but never did we feel threatened.

We stopped at a grocery store - the Caribbean Market -- and Janet and I bought cold Cokes. Walked home and was picked up at 11:30 and went to lunch at La Pause, the same restaurant we had eaten at earlier this week. We returned to the hospital where we played with children until we went home for dinner.

Pork chops for dinner. Mickie and I took care of each other, even though we had been told not to feed him from the table. I mean, how can you look into those sad eyes of his and not respond. I really didn't feed him intentionally, but I was glad he was there when I accidentally dropped a bit of pork chop on the floor. He covered the mess quickly, and watched out for me. A good thing, too, because I bet I dropped half of that pork chop.

Then, our debriefing meeting and bed. Stayed up late to finish this writing now. It's nearly 9 p.m.