Countdown: 2 days until I leave for
In the past few days, I’m finishing up the final details before I depart with my team to
A carry-on, by definition of the airlines, must fit in the overhead storage compartments. I’m looking at the list of things that my church, Cornerstone Fellowship in
Mind you, these items aren’t tourist stuff; they are things I need to work on the construction project. My suitcase will have a pair of swim trunks, but only because the ocean is nearby and just in case. The hotel we are staying in does not have a spa to be soaking in at night when we’re done working. The hotel doesn’t have a Web site to tell us about their amenities, but we’re told that not all rooms have air conditioning. I may or may not need mosquito netting. This is
So I’ll be taking work boots, long pants, despite the 95-degree and 95 percent-humidity conditions, work gloves, safety glasses, a hat to shield my head from the burning sun, wool socks I purchased just for
Then there are the things I’ll need for the redeye flight to
And then there is the list of Creole phrases given to us. I have yet to memorize any of the terms. A few of them are easy, because there is a similarity to French. “Bonjou” is “good morning,” “Bonswa” is “good afternoon” or “good evening.” “Wi” is “yes” and “non” is “no.”
Then there are the important terms. “Manje” means “to eat.” Maybe I should learn “Be careful of what you eat.” Naturally, I will remember “kwit-manje” because it means “to cook.” “Bwe” is “to drink.” “Mwengendjare,” means “I have diarrhea.” “Mwen anvi vonmi” means “I feel nauseated.” “Quick, where’s the nearest toilet” is not listed on the sheet. “Souple, ban mwen Kaopectate” means “Give me Kaopectate.” “Prese prese!” (“Hurry.”)
I looked, but I don’t see the phrase, “Jesus loves you.” I must find that out.
Now that I’m thinking about it, that’s my prayer request. Pray that I’ll never have to say “souple, ban mwen Kaopectate” while I’m in
At our team meeting last week, someone suggested playing Charades, because we may be playing a form of charades when we get down there and try to communicate with Haitians, who speak French and Creole. Do you think Haitians know what the pee-pee dance means? If I’m holding my stomach, and writhing in pain, do you think they’ll figure out what’s going on? I think I can work agony on my face.
I think I’ll keep my list of Creole phrases in my back pocket.
For more photos from Rose Duncan in