As you may know we are living up in the mountains above PaP, and it's about an hour drive to our mountain chalet. Last night Pancha came up with us to spend the night and enjoy the cold mountain air. We had a good time hanging out, and upon our departure this morning I realized I had locked the keys in the car last night. We poked around the truck for a way to get in, but I coincided my first keys in the truck experience with my first-fully-successful locking of all four doors experience. We tried the ol' clothes hanger trick and then moved on to trying to grab the inside door handle through the seam of the door. After several tries I actually managed to grab the handle and pulled as hard as I could and ....nothing. Apparently it's one of those vehicles that makes you lift the little thing, then pull the lever - I know, so 1990s, right? Some cars don't even have keys anymore, and here I am stuck with one that doesn't pop its own lock when the latch is pulled. What about emergency exits? I smell a Toyota recall here.
After that didn't work, we called down to the office and asked them to send the back-up key up to us. Actually, I asked Ben to bring it up as I could think of no one else willing to drive 1 hour up a mountain just to turn around again. That's what friends are for. We didn't make Ben go down right away - while we waited we made some coffee and offered Ben a complimentary cup of Joe for his rescue services. After the java we made our way down the hill, a mere two hours late to start our workday. Sorry MCC.
While we were drinking coffee and waiting for Ben, the neighbor's dog made her way up to our house to inspect our goings-on with the truck and general laying-about that had then ensued. I have a soft spot for black lab puppies, and although she's not 100% the neighbor-dog is enough of a lab to make you miss your very own skinny lab puppy of yesteryear. We let her in the house - by the way, her name is Bella - and she was super nervous inside, so she's most likely not allowed in her owner's house. We are now the neighbors that spoil the neighbor kids. I'm all ready to buy dog treats for her just to woo her over to our house as often as her owner will let her.
While we were drinking coffee and waiting for Ben, the neighbor's dog made her way up to our house to inspect our goings-on with the truck and general laying-about that had then ensued. I have a soft spot for black lab puppies, and although she's not 100% the neighbor-dog is enough of a lab to make you miss your very own skinny lab puppy of yesteryear. We let her in the house - by the way, her name is Bella - and she was super nervous inside, so she's most likely not allowed in her owner's house. We are now the neighbors that spoil the neighbor kids. I'm all ready to buy dog treats for her just to woo her over to our house as often as her owner will let her.
I know I said I didn't want to talk about EQ-related things, but just a quick story about my day to day. Each day we get people that come to the office. They hear people talking on a tap-tap about MCC and that MCC is amazing and give aid that is new (not secondhand goods) and give aid in a way that is respectful to Haitians, with no guns, no batons and no threats.
(First, why are people surprised that we are giving away new items? Shouldn't nice new items be the norm? Obviously not. Also, people are pleasantly surprised we arrive for distributions without a UN security detail. I won't go on, but it's sad when people are surprised by these things, as they should be the norm.)
Back to my story. We get people every day that represent communities throughout the area, roughly 10 per day. Each has a heart-wrenching letter about the devastation in their community and the total lack of aid they have received because they are not in a big camp visible from a road. They have handwritten lists of names of families, with ages, gender, etc. Hand. Written. When was the last time you wrote 5-6 pages by hand? They all ask that we come to their communities to see the need and assure me that once we see their communities there is no way we could refuse help. Ugh. Unfortunately, when you do the math, 10 letters per day X an average of 500 people per community = 5,000 new people in need every day. Not counting weekends, that's 25,000 new people in need each week. You see where I am going. These people are asking for shelter, food, whatever they can find. I am in the delicate position, along with several others, of having to decide who finds and who does not find aid. Ugh.
That's it for now.
(First, why are people surprised that we are giving away new items? Shouldn't nice new items be the norm? Obviously not. Also, people are pleasantly surprised we arrive for distributions without a UN security detail. I won't go on, but it's sad when people are surprised by these things, as they should be the norm.)
Back to my story. We get people every day that represent communities throughout the area, roughly 10 per day. Each has a heart-wrenching letter about the devastation in their community and the total lack of aid they have received because they are not in a big camp visible from a road. They have handwritten lists of names of families, with ages, gender, etc. Hand. Written. When was the last time you wrote 5-6 pages by hand? They all ask that we come to their communities to see the need and assure me that once we see their communities there is no way we could refuse help. Ugh. Unfortunately, when you do the math, 10 letters per day X an average of 500 people per community = 5,000 new people in need every day. Not counting weekends, that's 25,000 new people in need each week. You see where I am going. These people are asking for shelter, food, whatever they can find. I am in the delicate position, along with several others, of having to decide who finds and who does not find aid. Ugh.
That's it for now.
2 comments:
It's nice to have a distraction of a lovely puppy and good friends to help in a bind. Praying for many more moments like that for you guys.
I used to think that my job was stressful....
As they say in Cameroon, "courage" (with a French accent).
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