Out in the front yard to the church, a couple of Haitians mixed concrete with gravel and water with a shovel and the ground. They made a circle of gravel, with a circle of mortar just inside it. Once built with a good 8" to a foot thick walls, they filled the center with buckets of water gathered by local teenage girls from the valley below. They carried each 5 gallon bucket on their head. Unbelievable! So anyway, the guys simply moved the shovel into the center of the circle and back out again, kneading the three ingredients together into perfect concrete to lay a church floor. From there, all the rest of us created a bucket brigade from the concrete circle out in the yard all the way up to the church, up a ramp, over the porch, through the threshold, and then one after another after another all the way back to the altar area of the sanctuary.
Empty buckets were sent down the line from one person's hand to the next at the same time full buckets were being sent up the line to be poured onto the church floor as empty buckets were returned back down the same line as so on and so on for hours and hours, from breakfast till lunch, and from after lunch till dinner. It was exhilerating to see all we were capable of as a village working together. When our right arms got tired, we'd jump across the line facing the opposite direction in order to use the opposite arm as dominant for the full buckets and the less dominant arm for empty buckets...until they got tired again...and we'd jump across the line again, changing our direction and which arms we were using. Every other person faced the opposite direction in order to better pass a full bucket with the ease of a waltz.
By the end of the day, not only were forms made on the front porch for the new roof, but 2/3 of the sanctuary floor was new, smooth, concrete that ran in long strips from the door to the altar. The middle 1/3 was not yet laid, as that job was to wait till tomorrow when the tile craftsmen would arrive.
A hot day, well into the upper 90's with no sign of a breeze, led to a longer than normal swim in the ocean at the end of the workday. Aaaaaahhhhhhhh...you could almost hear the sizzle as our hot white bodies sank below the cool water's surface. I think I saw steam. :-)
...and then the rains came...and came...and came. We saw the storm clouds nearing as we swam. The rain was coming down over Les Cayes. I can't imagine what they did to all the tent cities along the path to Port Au Prince. The odd thing was, we could also see the storm approaching from the south, where the orphanage was. It was as though two storms were closing in on us and would meet over the Pastor's house. Sure enough. They did...yet right there in the middle, just behind us over the ocean's waves, was a double rainbow. A promise from God that when the two collide, the rains wouldn't last forever. Glad for the promise, because we surely began to wonder as the hours passed by!
Jerry said he had not seen rain like this in any of his prior 8 trips. Rather than an hour here or there, it just kept raining. Rivers began forming down the sides of the mountain, as they jotted right and left around trees, bushes, and even the pastor's house where we stayed. There is no glass in the windows here, just openings the shape of windows with wooden shutters to keep the bugs, chickens, and roosters out.
So we all hung out the windows and marveled at the monsoon coming down all around us. It was thunderous loud as the heavy rains pounded on the corrugated metal roof. Two baby goats cried out at the top of their lungs for their mommy. They could not find her for hours and hours. I believe it may have been their first hard rain. They couldn't hear her bleeting and she could not hear them over the pounding rain that fell from the heavens.
After watching Jerry and Jocelin for a couple of hours, collecting wonderful, clean rain water in any and every kind of bucket, pan, and barrel they could find, I noticed Madame in the shed with many of her grandchildren. They all lived higher up the mountain between the pastor's house and the church and when the rains came down as violently as they did, there was no way they could all get back home with the raging rivers coming at them. More likely, they would have been swept away, down to the next plateau.
Knowing they had to be driving her nuts in such close quarters for so long, I ran and got a plastic wiffle ball out of my suitcase to amuse them. Pastor's always carry wiffle balls. They teach us that in seminary. :-) Tossing it out the door of the house I was in, across the porch, over the river running down our small corner of the mountain, into the door of the shed, to one of the children. Amazingly, we only missed the catch, on either end, a few times as it plopped in one of the many buckets sitting under the eaves of either structure. Different kids took turns. I assume Madame appreciated the small diversion.
After my throwing arm became numb, I yelled across the great divide "Fini!" (finished). And they smiled. I think their arms were tired too. I thought this was as good as time as ever to get my hair washed with clean, bacteria free, God-given rain water. So I retrieved my shampoo and conditioner, as well as my towel, and bent out over the threshold of the door until my head landed directly under the eaves of the house. It was amazing how wonderful the water felt on my filthy, sweat-filled hair. We only have an opportunity for showers about once every 3 to 5 days...and we sweat hard. And that shower consists of sitting water in a barrel with a film on top. We pour a few gallons into a tin bowl and pour it over our body, with a tin cup. Did I mention it is cold water??? Brrrr..... Afterwards we still need to use alcohol based hand sanitizer on our hands and faces to help prevent any bacterias form entering our bodies.
So...fresh rain from heaven?? O yes! I think Madame and the kids thought I was crazy, but I didn't care. They watched from the door of the shed across the raging river between us. It was glorious! When I finished and tossle dried my hair with my towel, I felt like one of those Tresseme' models on T.V. selling a product for soft, tangle-free, gloriously shiny hair!
Eventually we all went to sleep...except the poor little goat twins. They continued to cry out into the night, in fear they will never see their mother again. Remember the rainbow, dear children, remember the rainbow.
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