Things I've grown to love since moving to Jamaica:

1. Celine Dion
2. Riding in a taxi going really fast on the left side of the road
3. Handicapped children
4. Canned beef stew
5. Rihanna
6. Headbands (these keep your hair looking somewhat decent after riding in several cabs going really fast with all the windows down)
7. White rice mixed with anything (this includes spaghetti, canned beefstew, and all forms of chicken)
8. Almost all reggae but most especially Etana, Tarrus Riley, and Jah Cure
9. Grapenut ice cream
10. Curried goat
11. Being called Brownie (as opposed to whitie)
12. Ting and Kola Champagne
13. Many many fruits that only grow in extremely hot temperatures

"I am blessed. Everyday of my life I am blessed."

It's been nearly 2 months since my last post! Like I have said before, Jamaican time is on fast forward! A lot has happened in 2 months that's for sure! We have had several one month long volunteers come and go over the summer months. It's been nice to meet new people and it's given me the chance to live and work with all different kinds of people! Now that summer is nearing it's end (although the temperatures here are certainly not dropping) we are back to just me, Chelsea, and Daisy, a volunteer from the Netherlands.

As I mentioned it's hot as...well...its REALLY hot! Even the Jamaicans are telling me this is one of the hottest summers they've had in awhile. Part of the problem was a lack of rain. It had not rained for weeks, but then my friends came to visit and they brought all that rain that had been falling in the States with them! The Jamaicans consider rain, as long it's not in the form of a hurricane, a blessing. So, thanks Maria and Courtney :)

Having my friends come to visit was really great! It was nice to have people come and experience my life here and experience Jamaica itself. I tried to give them the truest to life experience I could. We rode in cabs and walked through the bus terminal. We even took a minibus 3 hours across the island to spend the weekend at the beach! The minibus ride involves very loud music (either gospel or dance hall depending on your driver), wild driving, and being squished up with 5 0r 6 people in a space meant for 3 or 4! Not to mention getting some interesting looks because Jamaicans don't see many white girls riding in a minibus! Here is a link to a song that describes the experience perfectly. The song is titled "Two White Girls Pon a Minibus." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gx6huWAr7vg

A few weeks ago I was able to visit Blessed Assurance, our home in Montego Bay for the first time! Don't be fooled, the home is no where near the tourist beaches and resorts! It's down several potholed roads off a main drag that is several miles from downtown Montego Bay, but the home is great! There are about 50 kids there, all with similar disabilities to the children in our other homes. There is also a cottage for unwed teen moms. Below are a few pictures from our day there.

I can't believe I have been here for nearly 10 months. The kids have started to realize that I will be leaving soon. Every day at least a few of them will ask "Auntie, you go foreign soon?" There are a few girls at the Dare to Care that know what month I am leaving and hold me tight everyday when I visit them and say "Auntie, October is too soon. You can't leave!" And I try and assure them that 2 months is still plenty of time, but I am realizing that before I know it the end of October will be here. But, as one of my co-workers said the other day, "once you come to Mustard Seed, you have to come back." And that will certainly be the case for me.

Day at the Beach!

This past Friday I accompanied about 40 other caregivers and over 100 of our disabled children from Jerusalem at the beach. I wasn't sure how it would all work, but the day was very organized and minimally chaotic. I'd say the most chaotic part of the day was lunch time! There was rice flying everywhere! But we made it through without any major mishaps. All the kids had such a wonderful time. The day was filled with laughter and smiles. Below are some pictures from the day!

A bunch of the residents in their "bath suits" as they refer to them here in Jamaica.

Two of my favorite boys patiently waiting while we get everyone ready for the water.

Everyone was covered in sand!

Another volunteer and I with Claude, one of our older and by far wisest resident at Jerusalem. We spent awhile with him in the water. He was so so thankful. Loving the water!

There were so many smiles!

Another volunteer with another one of my favorite boys.

Lloyd's Story

Several months ago Chelsea and I met Lloyd. He is a homeless man who lives in one of the towns we pass through everyday. I don't normally give money to beggers, but there was something different about Lloyd. He wanted money, but he also liked having someone to chat with. So, slowly we started stopping to chat with him and usually before we left we would give him some spare change to buy dinner. He is about 65 and walks slightly bent over using a stick to balance himself. After a few months of seeing him he finally told me that he wanted to go into a home where he could get a bed and a shower. I was so excited to hear this because often homeless people become so comfortable on the street and they don't actually want to move into a shelter. As soon as I got home I got on the phone to find him a place. After a little while we got the number for the Missionaries of the Poor (MOP), another group of homes in Jamaica that helps the marginalized. They are similar to Mustard Seed, but run homes for more than just children. After calling several times and being told there was no room but to try again in a few days we realized there would not be space anytime soon. So, I got in contact with another person who might be able to help and he provided me with the name of another home that helps the homeless. It took a lot of work, but I finally found a phone number for the home. And they told us we could bring Lloyd the very next day! I was so excited that I searched all over for him that afternoon on my way home from work, but he was no where to be found. I learned the next morning that he was at the hopsital all day trying to get an X-ray. Luckily he was right in his normal spot the next morning and myself and three others drove him to the home. It wasn't quite what we expected. The home itself was really nice, but they were a little nervous about taking someone who didn't move around very well. He insisted he would be able to walk from the dorm area to the day area and that he could bathe himself no problem. However, we weren't able to just leave him there because he had never gotten his X-ray the day before and insisted we carry him to the hospital to get it that day. W told the people at the home that we would be back with him later that night. We brought him to the hospital and told him we would come look for him later that afternoon and to not wander too far. Later that afternoon we headed back to the hospital and again Lloyd was no where to be found. We asked around at the hospital, but no one could help us. We decided to take a ride through the area he usually is and as we rounded the corner where he normally sits I realized he was crossing the street right in front of us! We loaded him back in the car and dropped him back at the home. The past several days we've just been hoping and praying that he would remain at the home and I had yet to see him back in town so I was hopeful that he was happy where we had brought him. And then today I was in a taxi on my way home and I realized we drove by Lloyd. He was sitting on the walker we had brought to him when we dropped him at the home chatting with someone outside a store. He was a little ways away from the town where he used to sit. It happened so fast that it took a moment for me to realize I had just seen him and it was too late for me to stop and find out what happened. I can't say I am surprised. I look everyday to see if he had made his way back to his old spot, but I was also frustrated that he didn't take advantage of the opportunity to be off the street. Then, when I thought more about it I realized he looked much cleaner this afternoon and had on a new set of clothes. Maybe he really just wanted a bath and, like many homeless people, did not want to feel like he had to answer to the people at the home. So, that's my story about Lloyd. I haven't decided if I will continue to give him money if he does make his way back to the town I pass through every afternoon. I don't want to support his decision to live on the street especially since he was given the opportunity to have a bed and 2 meals a day all for free. Say a prayer for him if you think of it. Also, please keep the country of Honduras in your thoughts and prayers. For those of you who don't keep up with current events, they are presently experiencing a military led coup that sent their president into exile. Although I have come to love Jamaica, Hondus was the country that first captured my missionary heart. Peace!

"Cause every little thing gonna be all right..."

I visited the States for a short, but much needed break, at the end of April. Since my return to Jamaica have felt renewed and refreshed. I am so sorry for not writing for so long, especially with my last post being a bit of a downer. Since Tavoy's passing I have grown closer and closer to his brothers, especially Andrew :) I try and visit with him each day at the very least giving him a big hug and when I am able I will take him out of his chair for a "lift up." I will put him on his belly across my lap and he will flail his arms and legs around laughing the entire time. He is becoming quite spoiled and will pout and cry if I tell him I can't stay to feed him or I only have time for a quick hug.

Andrew and I hanging out at Sports Day! I tell everyone that time in Jamaica is on fast forward. A week goes by in the blink of an eye. I guess that explains how I have already passed the halfway point of my time here in Jamaica. Before I went home I wasn't sure if I would even be able to make it through my last six months, but now I wish time would slow down. There is so much more to do before I leave and even more importantly there are so many children that I know I will never come close to spending as much time as I would like with. Although many of them share similar diseases and diagnoses they are all so different. After spending 7 months with them you know exactly who wants to be rubbed on the head and who wants to be kissed on the nose and who just wants to just have someone sit next to them and hold their hand. We have some volunteers staying with us for a month and one of the things they have been really touched by and it's something I have always thought is so beautiful is that so many of our children-- even the ones who were left for dead-- miss and love their mothers. I walked up to Nyron last week and said "what's up?" And his simple response was "I want to go home." I said "Home to where?" And he said "Home with my mother." This is coming from a severely disabled young man who was left by his mom to care for his even more severely disabled brothers. I have had many more conversations like this one with other residents too. There is no doubt that my favorite part of being a nurse is the listening part. I am glad I have had this time to realize how important listening and talking with patients is. I am nervous that when I return to the States and get a "real job" I will no longer have the time and opportunity to just sit and be with patients. I have learned entire life stories from some of the elderly (Golden Agers) who visit me at the clinic for blood pressure checks and free medication. Just a couple weeks ago one of my regulars, Mr. Brown, told me he used to be a Rastafarian with dreadlocks reaching all the way past his bottom! Now, with his short hair and outgoing personality he encourages the people he lives near to stop smoking marijuana and become Christians! Many of the Golden Agers live all alone and are very lonely, so their weekly visit with me offers them a chance to spend time with other people their age as they wait to see me and then chat with me while I take their blood pressure and ask how they are feeling. Spending time with Kevon (top) and Jerome (bottom) during their break from school. Both boys LOVE hugs! Thank you to everyone who has continued to think about me and pray for me as I continue my journey here in Jamaica. Although there are difficult days, I feel so blessed to have this opportunity to learn so much and be emerged in such an exciting culture! I continue to learn more and more about myself as well and hopefully the lessons I learn will help me when I return home in October. I am attaching a link to a recent publication from the Catholic Medical Mission Board that one of my blogs was featured in! Take a look if you have some time! http://vocuspr.vocus.com/VocusPR30/Newsroom/ViewAttachment.aspx?SiteName=CMMB&Entity=PRAsset&AttachmentType=F&EntityID=112451&AttachmentID=456f0d62-ad7d-4f77-878f-148349aa1748&NewWindow=True Peace and Love!

"Where there is love, there is pain."- Spanish Proverb

It wasn't long after I arrived in Jamaica that I fell in love with the well-known 4 brothers that live at Jerusalem! They are some of the most loving, patient, and self-less young men God has gifted to this world. All of them suffer from what appears to be some sort of genetic muscular dystrophy. The disease is the mildest in the eldest brother, Niron, and gets progressively more severe as you go down the line- next is Kemar, then Tavoy, and lastly Andrew. Their story is sad, but at the same time beautiful. Before they came to Mustard Seed they would be left alone for days at a time and Niron would drag his lifeless legs around, using only his upper body to bathe and feed his younger brothers. Mustard Seed learned about them probably 5 or 6 years ago and since then they have lived with us. All the brothers have difficulty communicating. If you spend enough time with Niron you can begin to understand him. Kemar is more difficult to understand, and the youngest brothers are nearly impossible to understand. However, when you bring them all together (the oldest lives in a different part of the home) they all sit around and chit chat, understanding everything each other is saying! It's so awesome! I have really fallen in love with them over the past 5 months. I often tell Chelsea that I don't know how I will leave Jamaica someday without taking them home. We always talk about the day when all the boys will be old enough to live together in a cottage at Jacob's Ladder. That dream, however, was crushed this past week when I went to work on Monday. I was devastated to learn that Tavoy had passed away over the weekend. The two youngest brothers have difficulty swallowing and Tavoy choked on Saturday afternoon and because he doesn't move much and cannot speak he stopped breathing without the caregiver noticing. He was rushed to the hospital, but was pronounced dead on arrival. Two other children have died in the past couple weeks as well. I wasn't close to either of them so their deaths did not affect me in the same way that Tavoy's has. I want to comfort his brothers, but I find it hard to be with them without crying. On my way to lunch today Niron called me over to him and said "Me wah go visit Andrew and Kemar. They only two left." as he held up two fingers. It broke my heart. Luckily I had regained my composure after lunch and wheeled him over to see his brother. He just held Andrew's hand and then I heard Kemar say "Tavoy died." and Niron simply said "I know." I was glad they were able to be together for awhile and chat. They are well aware of what has happened. It's obvious they are not as cheerful and are incredibly saddened by their brother dying.

This is a picture of Chelsea and I with all 4 brothers not too long ago. I am holding Tavoy.

Please keep Niron, Kemar, and Andrew in your thoughts and prayers. As well, as all the caregivers and staff who were close to not only Tavoy, but also Oliver and Jermaine, the two other residents who recently passed away.

In addition to these sad events, the Mustard Seed home where our youngest HIV children live burned down last week. Luckily all the children made it out safely. One of the caregivers grabbed the two immobile children and had to jump from the second floor. She broke her leg when she landed, but is recovering, and both the children are fine.

As you can see, it has been a difficult few weeks here. The night of the fire caretakers and staff from all over converged at the home, like any big family would, to be sure everyone was okay. At the end of the night everyone gathered for a prayer. Fr. Gregory began the prayer by singing the song "Thank you Lord." It reminded us all that we must be thankful no matter what and that the Lord is always watching over us. Everyone sang it loudly. So many Jamaicans have such a blind faith. They don't need to see God to know He is there. It is an inspiration to me during these difficult times.

Remember Me?!

I can’t believe how long it’s been! I apologize for those of you who have been waiting for an update on my life here in Jamaica. Well, it’s been a little over 4 months since I arrived and at this point all the wild and crazy experiences have become a part of daily life. Once in awhile I stop and realize the roosters crowing when I get off the bus outside of work or the huge piles of trash burning on the side of the road were not normal to me 4 months ago, but now that’s all a part of everyday life! Before I go any further let me first explain part of why I have not written a blog in so long. About a month ago, I was sitting quietly on my couch with my computer in my lap just minding my own business when all of a sudden I heard a bang! I looked down on my keyboard and there was a lizard about the length of my hand! He scared me out of my mind and made me throw my computer onto our tiled floor! And shortly after my computer went black and didn’t turn back on until I was able to put a new hard drive in and now I have my computer back and can get on the internet again! Below is a picture of the killer lizard! Jamicans call them "croc lizards."

A lot of other things have happened in the past month or so too! For starters my mom and dad came to visit a couple weeks ago! I brought them around to all the children’s homes that I work at regularly and had them meet the children and staff. They rented a car (which my dad drove on the left side of the road with ease) and we drove a few hours through the southern part of the country toward the beach. I brought them to what is so far my favorite part of the island. It’s a little town called Treasure Beach on the southern coast. There are a few hotels and guests houses, but it’s a lot quieter than the other touristy parts of the island like Montego Bay and Negril. The people who live there are by far the most laid back Jamaicans I have come across and are usually very pleasant and polite with the few tourists that hear about and venture out to TB. We enjoyed a relaxing, but far too short weekend at the beach and sitting by the pool. I was sad to have them leave and to return the “real world” of city life and work, but it was so wonderful to have them here and give them a glimpse into my life here. Below is a picture taken at Treasure Beach. The sunsets are amazing!

The week after my parents returned home, my roommate and I packed our bags and headed to Mustard Seed’s apostalate in Moneague called Jacob’s Ladder. Jacob’s Ladder is still in the works, but when it is completed it will be home to over 400 residents and have a completely self-sustaining farm. Right now there are a little over 40 residents all who are over 18 and about 90% of them have a psychiatric disease. Many of the residents are schizophrenic. It’s a really overwhelming place for people who have not spent time around severely psychotic people (which I suppose would be the majority or people in the world!). But it’s also an incredibly peaceful place. There is so much wide open space and there are just dozens of little cottages that line the perimeter of the living area. The residents are really fun to be around as well. Some of them are always excited for visitors and crave one on one attention and Chelsea and I tried to give as much as we could. While there I did some training with the care givers, most of whom have no training at all in caring for psychiatric patients. So, there is a lot of work to be done there, but hopefully with time it will grow and become home to hundreds of deserving children. Below are some pictures I took on our ride back from Moneague. It's a really beautiful ride through the mountains!

Well, that’s what I have for now. The internet here has been touch and go, but hopefully I can work on writing a little more often. I will be heading home to the States the end of April for a couple weeks to get a visa for my last 6 months here. Luckily, I will be able to see some family and friends as well! I am very excited for a little taste of America! Hope all is well with all of you!

A Few New Friends

"Christ is hidden under the suffering appearance of anyone who is hungry, naked, homeless, or dying." - Blessed Teresa of Calcutta Last week Mustard Seed recieved a call that there were 5 abandoned children living in one of the ghettos not far from My Father's House. A few members of the staff headed over to the area shortly after recieving the call and returned to My Father's House with 5 beautiful children who had been abandoned by their mother months earlier. The oldest is 14 and the youngest 5. After a trip to a doctor it was discovered that the youngest two are HIV+ and they are also covered from head to toe with scabies. A home was quickly created for them in what is normally the physiotherapy room because they needed to be separated from the other children until the scabies had been treated. Unfortunately, Mustard Seed cannot keep all 5 of the children because Mustard Seed is only able to permanently keep children who are disabled or HIV+. The oldest three have been sent to other children's homes in the area. However, the two youngest will be staying with Mustard Seed. Once the scabies have healed they will be sent to one of our homes for young HIV+ boys in downtown Kingston. This past Monday I spent some time throughout the day with them. The youngest is 5, but he looks more like a 2 year old in size. He is severly malnourished and his skinny limbs and huge belly make him look like one of the children shown in advertisements asking for money for starving children in Africa. Nonetheless, they are both adorable. The older of the two is 6 and he has a beautiful smile :) We colored for a little while and I clipped the little one's tiny fingernails. I will be sad to see them leave My Father's House, but it will be all the more reason to go downtown to visit them at their new home! Please keep them, as well as their older siblings in your thoughts and prayers! A lot of people have asked me how Mustard Seed recieves all the children we have living at our homes. Well, this story is one example of the ways we recieve kids. Additionally, we are sometimes left children outside our gates or sometimes parents can no longer care for their children and they humbly bring them to us. The Child Development Agency also brings us children. Recently we were asked to provide a home for a young boy who continuously ran away from the children's home where he was living. The home did not know what else to do with him. So far, he seems happy here at Jerusalem! He gets along well with the other children and is always looking for a hug! Once a child comes to Mustard Seed we do all we can to keep them within MSC's homes. Only in rare and dire circumstances will a child be sent somewhere outside of MSC. If you have any other questions please feel free to ask and I will try to answer in future blogs. Peace!

Painting My Room!

I am not sure if all of my blog readers know my living situation. So, before I begin this story let me explain. I live with 3 other people. Chelsea is the other volunteer currently serving with Mustard Seed, Pravi is Fr. Gregory's nephew and a student at the University of the West Indies in Jamaica, and then there is Mikey. Mikey is head of security for Mustard Seed. He used to live in a house on the compund here at Sophie's Place, but the house was washed away during Tropical Storm Gustav. So...now he lives with us in the long-term volunteer quarters. For the most part he keeps to himself. He always says hello when he passes through the living room, but thats the most we see of him usually. At this point I am sure you are all wondering what Mikey has to do with me painting my room. Well, there is one thing about Mikey that can be intimidating for new volunteers- Mikey speaks the most dificult to understand Jamaican English anyone could ever imagine! Even Jamaicans cannot understand him sometimes! Anyway, last Friday morning I saw Mikey and he said something to me. As is usually the case, I could only understand about 1/3 of the question he asked. I knew he was asking me about painting and I knew he was telling me he wanted to paint his room and Chelsea had told him I wanted to paint my room too. So I just sort of said "oh ok yea, sounds good Mikey." Shortly after I realized I had at the very least agreed to paint SOMETHING the next day. I wasn't sure if it was going to be my room, his room, or both and I was definitely unsure where the paint was going to come from! I woke up the next morning and could here Mikey in his room moving stuff around and smelled the distinct aroma of fresh paint. He heard me come out of my room and into the kitchen and he popped open his door and said something about painting. So I told him once I was done with my breakfast I would be ready. Although, I still wasn't sure WHAT I would be ready for. Well I ate my cereal and in the mean time Mikey had gone downstairs. As I put my bowl in the sink he walked through the door with some blue paint! He handed it to me and told me to wait one second. He went into his room and came back out carrying a roller. He told me to put whatever I had left back in his room when I was done. So, just to make sure I asked him if the paint he just gave me was for my room and sure enough he said "yea mon!" So, I went into my room and moved all the furniture as far away from the walls as possible and started painting! Pravi woke up and walked into my room with a confused look and asked "what are you doing?!" "Painting my room!" I responded. He just started laughing. In the end I had a newly painted room. It is now light blue as opposed to dark and dreary dark blue it was before. I still am not entirely sure where Mikey got the paint, but I don't ask questions because I won't understand the answer anyway! So much for moving to a country where they speak my language! The language barrier definitely still exists...trust me!

Christmas in the Ghettos

I remember telling myself while we were distributing toys in the ghettos that I needed to come home and write all that I saw so it would be fresh in my mind. And of course there wasn't time immediately following the Christmas Treat and then the next day I was so exhausted and day after day went by and here I am several weeks later just now sitting down to attempt to describe what may just be the best Christmas I've ever had. I am hesitant to say that...knowing my mom and dad might be a little upset that the 21 Christmases prior to this one were all topped this year and I was a thousand miles from home! But Christmass 2008 was so much different from all the Christmases before that I don't know that it necessarily "beat out" all my prior Christmases. It is really in it's own category. I had been told some really crazy stories about past Christmas Treats. Most people said it was really great, but they never wanted to do it again...What was THAT supposed to mean?! I was about to find out, but before I begin I will say that it was really amazing AND I would probably do it again! Once we started driving away from My Father's House and toward the first ghetto I was excited. As we approached where we would stop someone motioned to look over to the left. Running along the sidewalk and in the streets were hundred of kids...they knew we were coming. It was as if they had been anxiously waiting since the vans had driven off last Christmas. As we continued to drive along kids kept popping out of every gate and doorway. They were running toward the front of the caravan and soon enough all the children were joined by young woman toting little babies in their arms, young men, and even old grandmas hoping to recieve teddy bears for some of the many grandchildren they have been given to raise. The plan was to pull into a church and give the pastor the allotted amount of food for each town (he would then distribute it) and then to hand out stuffed animals from one of the vans. From past experiences they have decided the best way to pass out the stuffed animals is to keep all the doors and windows of the van locked except the front two windows which are lowered just enough for stuffed animals to fit out and not low enough for people to push their way into the window. As you have probably figured out, these people REALLY want stuffed animals. They will do just about anything for as many as they can get. As we quickly learned... The plan was to return to our vans once we heard the band that was traveling with us start to play "Oh come all ye faithful." We heard the song and all started heading back to our van. We were almost all in the van when several people from the town noticed the trash bag with stuffed animals in the back of our van. Two young men were really begging us so someone opened the bag and handed them each one. This seemed to satisfy them, or so we thought. Someone from the crowd thought it might be worth it to try pulling at the trunk door...and unfortunately for us, the door was not locked and they began jumping in the back of the van grabbing at the stuffed animals. One of the Jamaican men traveling in our van came rushing over and tried closing the door on them forcing then to jump out, they managed to grab several stuffed animals. We finally had everyone in the van and we started to drive away and just as we did they opened up the trunk door again and dove in the back...grabbing as much as they could. They ended up getting nearly an entire bag I think before someone jumped out of our van and slammed the door shut again and waited there till we were able to get the key to lock it. It was a bit frightening and probably not the best way to start of the morning. Fortunately, this was the biggest mishap and the rest of the morning was eventful in mostly positive ways. We stopped in 4 more ghettos. The second ghetto was pretty uneventful. What I remember most is that many of the people could care less about the food we handed them. The dogs were more than happy to gobble up the food from the boxes that people simply tossed on the ground as they said "Me no ungry. Me wah teddy bear." It's sad that people are so ungrateful, but you really have to take things like that with a grain of salt I have learned. They are just brutally honest. They would rather have a teddy bear that will last for years to come than a full belly that will no doubt be empty again in a few hours. The positive moment for me in that ghetto was when I had one box of food in my arms looking for someone who might actually want it and I looked over and saw to little children, a brother and sister no doubt, wearing nothing but their underwear. The little girl had a box of food and a teddy bear, the little boy only a teddy bear. I approached them slowly because based on the looks in their eyes they had never seen a white person before. I dropped down onto my knees and asked the little boy if he was hungry. He nodded his head yes. So, I stuck the box of food under his arm because his hands were busy holding tightly onto his new teddy bear. I told him to hold it tight and until he reached home. He just nodded. Man, they were so cute! The next ghetto was where I met Gloria. She was an old woman who I came across on the street while I was handing out boxes of food. She already had food, but she asked me where she could get a teddy bear. I told her she had to go around the corner and wait in line outside the police station (where we had left the stuffed animals for them to distribute). She looked at me with sad eyes and said "They won't give an old lady a teddy bear." I told her they would but she needed to go stand in line. She had a glimpse of hope and started heading in that direction. Not long after I was standing on a corner opposite the police station. I saw her walking away from the line. At the same time, Fr. Gregory came over to see how Chelsea and I were doing. I told him about the old woman and how I really wanted her to get a teddy bear, but it didn't look like she would be able to. As soon as I finished the sentence he yelled over to one of the many men who work for him and he told him he needed a "very special teddy bear for someone." So, off Hanson went into the crowds for the teddy bear just as Fr. requested. Fr. told me to run over and catch the old woman before she was out of site. I ran over and grabbed her shoulder. I whispered "stay with me someone is going to get you a teddy bear." As we stood wating I said "my name is Sarah." She grinned and said "I'm Gloria. Now we are no longer strangers." I told her I was a nurse and she got really excited and told me she was diabetic. So we chatted about that until Hanson appeared holding a big stuffed dog above his head. He saw Fr. who motioned for him to bring it over to me and I gave it to Gloria. She was so happy! Now, onto the next ghetto! I made another friend! We stopped near the bus park in downtown Kingston. So, as buses pulled by the food truck hands would stick out the windows. We would jump up and hand food to the bus passengers and the bus drivers who certainly deserved a free meal as they spent their Christmas working! There was a lull in buses so I took a few boxes of food and crossed the street to where there was a plaza with many people sitting or passing through. I handed out a couple of the boxes of food and noticed a rastaman not too far from where I was handing out food, but he didn't seem too interested at first. Then I starting to walk in the opposite direction and he came up and told me he was heading to Port Royal and he would like a couple boxes of food to give to some kids. I am assuming he was making up the story, but either way I was going to give him the food! Then he started talking to me. Very typical rasta talk at first. Telling me he doesn't judge by the color of skin and what not. It turned out to be a pretty lengthy conversation. He told me his sister has a boat and he likes to go catch fish and if he ever runs into me again he'll get me some fish. He was a really nice guy who was happy to have someone listen to him I think. I certainly didn't mind chatting. Oh, and his name was Solomon! And finally, the last ghetto...Trenchtown. Trenchtown as in the ghetto you hear Bob Marley sing about as well as the ghetto you hear sung about in newer reggae songs. As we approached Trenchtown, Terrance, the Jamaican with us pointed out Bob Marley's house and we saw why the ghetto is called Trenchtown. There is a trench that actually seperates the town into two and we were told that most people from one side are not allowed to cross over to the other side of the trench because of territorial rules and the gangs that run the ghetto makes sure the rules are followed. As we continued to drive through we were quickly joined by hundreds of running children. Many of the streets had been blocked off with piles of anything that could be found (bed frames, washing machines, car parts, etc.). This is to prevent the police from driving through the ghetto. Although, I have a feeling most police wouldn't take the risk even if the streets were not blocked. Finally, we reached the stopping point. There were huge government housing buildings lining the road. I wished so bad I had brought my camera. These buildings cannot even compare to what Americans picture when they think "housing project". They are several stories high and each "apartment" looked like a single room that was about the size of an average bedroom in the States. Maybe smaller. I obviously didn't go inside any of them so I can't be sure exactly what they look like. What I really noticed from the outside was that there was no green anywhere. All the grass and dirt had long been replaced with concrete. There were a few trees here and there, but just barely enough to cast a shadow on those sweltering hot days. The people in Trenchtown were noticeably poor. The children were wearing rags, if anything, over their underwear and many of the adults were similarly dressed. I handed out food until we ran out. Then, I headed to the "juice" truck (Jamaicans call any and all drinkable liquid juice!). I stuck my hands up and the people in the back of the truck just kept passing me cans of juice and soda. I would try and get it to the smaller kids who were two small to push their way to the front of the crowds. While I was doing this I handed a woman carrying a small child a can and she looked at me with the most sincere eyes and in the most grateful voice told me she was so thankful for what we do. Jamaicans do not really understand affirmation. They never tell each other "good job." It's something that seriosuly lacks in this culture so for this woman to gracioiusly thank me was really beautiful. Once we had run out of all our food, drinks, and teddy bears we heard the band play "Oh come all ye faithful" and we headed to the vans. As we drove out of Trenchtown Chelsea sat next to me and said "I never ever want to forget what this place looks like." And that is exactly how I was feeling. Who knows if I will ever return there. If not, I am glad I had the oportunity to experience Christmas in Trenchtown once. As you can see, Christmas 2008 was certainly one to remember. I hope you enjoyed reading. Sorry this has taken so long to post! I also hope everyone reading had a blessed Christmas and New Year! God Bless!