Lately I've noticed that my activities with James comprise a new element - he's been playing and interacting, goofing around in such a way that it's just fun to watch him have fun.

I can say now, "James, we're going to the park!" and see something click in his head. Going for his shoes, he knows he's in for a good time. Once he sees the playground, another light goes on in his little head. It's play time!

He's playing much more with "big kid" equipment. Climbing the steps in the tots play area, and going down the tiny slide. But it's all still completely novel, and he approaches it all with some awe and reticence.

He's also just a goofball. He likes to stand and stomp his feet in place, doing a little dance. When he sees something he's really excited about - a truck, or another kid maybe - he babbles some gibberish in an authoritative squawk and points to the sky with his right arm thrust up in the air, and keeps it there while walking toward the object of interest. He also prances around the kitchen now with his hands clasped behind his back, or just one tucked behind there - our little Napoleon.

It's a whole new thing to watch him having fun like this, and our activities are much more geared toward getting him out and letting him explore. No longer content with the limited movement the indoors' provide, he's a boy on the move. And, I suspect, the adventuring will only continue, reaching heights for which I'm not ready!

James "chasing birds" at the school field.

Our sweet boy

Well it's hard to believe; he's here! And he's changed our world completely. James Oswald was born May 1, 2017 at 12:59 a.m.

James Benedict Oswald, weighed 7 lbs 10 oz at birth, 21 inches long

Yesterday he turned 10 weeks old, and we commemorated this with an early photo shoot by Ted's brother P.J. who owns his own photography business.

Our sweet boy, who has gone by the epithet "Sweet Baby James" (from James Taylor's famous song) since birth, is smiling and changing a little all the time. It's amazing that the wild news we learned on a Friday night in Haiti 11 months ago has now been realized in the form of this beautiful guy.

Meet James!

(All photos by P.J. Oswald of Fits and Stops Photography)

Walking through

I have been in transition for some time now. It started last September, when Ted and I found out we were pregnant, and I left Haiti less than two weeks later - saying au revoir to friends and co-workers for an indeterminate amount of time.

Yet we did know that our timeline was changing. Fast. I arrived in San Diego a bit in shock, running on the adrenaline of the very quick, very "adult"  decisions we had made in less than a week's time - a record for us. Since seeing our little one's ultrasound and hearing his heartbeat the Wednesday prior, we had decided that I would leave the country, and we would both end our term with MCC on December 23rd. It seemed like the wise, prudent thing to do since we knew we desired to have our baby and set up shop in the U.S. for this next "chapter."

And now we had three months ahead with us mostly being apart. Ted "held down the fort" with our work in Haiti. He enjoyed Sundays with our church community, read a lot, dove into new exploits like bread baking and crepe making. And I was thrust into the throes of  'transition' - sort of getting a grip on this whole 'culture shock' and 'values shock' thing as we awaited our ultimate reunion in late December.

The interim period held a lot of gems. (I will share about one of them soon here.) But my stress about the uncertainty of the future was like the ringmaster calling the shots on my activities in my day-to-day life.

Fast forward to today - February 13 - nearly 6 months later. I am in a very different place, emotionally, and I am starting to come to a new, less frantic look on our reality. Ted and I are together. He is now 7 weeks back from Haiti, and I know he is going through transitions of his own.

So 6 months of transition, and counting. You might say, so what? People have surely been through much longer times of uncertainty and even unemployment. Yet all the while I have this baby growing in me, inching along to a due date in late April. We have a new reality coming, and he's coming, ready or not! While we are thrilled, this adds a layer of stress to my day-to-day that makes the waiting, the uncertainty, very hard to maneuver.

Yet my solace comes in knowing that things will work out somehow. We may not know yet where our next steps will be - the job, the home - but we haven't been cast aside or overlooked by our Father.

Seeking Him.

Haiti in August (I may have been pregnant then without
realizing it.)

San Diego County (Cardiff), near where we are currently based.

Poetry: from the journal

I found this written in my journal about a year ago, after we had returned to Haiti for the start of the new year:

Bleach water in my hair,

sounds of roosters

hot, sticky.

That feeling of being on the frontier,

but in a cool, ceramic tile oasis

It is morning #1: back in Haiti.

And this, from my journal close to two years ago. Ted had encouraged me to be bold and to try to write down some poetry. I reflected on experiences with a neighborhood boy:

Instead of hope,

money.

Instead of a smile, or kinship

a "solution" offered.

I can't talk; I can't give you more.

Who am I? And what are we?

I guess, we are actually the same.

Tied by a line.

You are my brother; that is all.

We are family.

Kinship, explored.

Expounded.

Brought forth

into it's actual meaning.

So this is who we are, who I am.

Live, therefore.

Offer the smile,

Be brave.

Live in the light - whole,

not afraid.

When I first met Tanis, he asked me for a bike. Then he asked me to buy him a ball, a new phone, pay his school fees. I couldn't meet all of his needs, nor did I feel it was my place to do so. But he came by ever so often - knocked on the gate. And we would chat in the driveway. I know he has it rough. And I often struggled with what to do - what could I offer him? Besides a peanut butter sandwich, and some time? The question didn't always have to be as complicated as I made it to be. I think that simply chatting with him at times was the answer.

So, he came by and we would 'shoot the breeze.' The one neighbor we actually chatted with regularly over our first several months in Haiti.

From Nairobi to Haiti and Back

A reflection of mine from a few weeks back:

I feel very full at the moment, thinking how life has woven moments into memorable patterns over my adult life. About eight and a half years ago, I spent two formative months in Nairobi. (I know, “formative” is the label you put on something that you don’t know how to adequately describe; it communicates “it was complicated, but meant something beautiful.”) I spent a lot of this time on my own or in the company of a friend, Lisa's, dear daughter and her nanny. I traveled the city by matatu and walked for much of my daily commute. Lisa connected me with friends and ministries that I explored on my own over a two-month period. It was a time of introspection and processing for me.

View reflected in a mirror from our lodgings in Jacmel, Haiti (photo: Anna Vogt)

Ted and I have now lived in Haiti for two years, working with Mennonite Central Committee. In May, Ted and I spent two days in the beautiful seaside town of Jacmel, in Haiti’s south. We traveled there with two visiting MCC colleagues who wanted to explore more of Haitian geography after a full work week. We stayed at a charming bed and breakfast that we had heard about many times in the past 6 months from a friend in Port-au-Prince.

The bed and breakfast turned out to be more lovely than we could have imagined. Janet, the owner, put so much thought into the design and aesthetic of the space. She is also a wonderful chef, and presented us with a delicious breakfast spread both mornings.

Janet used to work with MCC in present day South Sudan. She also raised her kids in Haiti. Most recently, she worked with Save the Children in Sub-Saharan Africa. When I learned this, several things clicked at once. My good friend Lisa who hosted me in Nairobi also worked with Save the Children. I asked Janet, and it turns out she and Lisa are dear friends. I couldn’t believe it! Standing in Janet’s kitchen in a small town in southern Haiti, we make a connection that weaves together some very significant moments in my life.

With Janet at her beautiful Jacmel home and B&B

Back to today: I got an e-mail this morning from a colleague who heads an international organization here in Port-au-Prince; she is a friend who has collaborated with us on some significant projects since the start of our term with MCC. Apparently, she is in Nairobi at the moment, and she informed me via this e-mail that she “spent the morning walking through a forest in Nairobi” with Kristen and Wawa Chege.

Kristen and Wawa are the couple that held the advocacy position in Haiti before Ted and I started with MCC. They led our orientation in July 2014 when we were preparing to “take over” their roles. Wawa is Kenyan and they have lived in Nairobi with their two children since they left Haiti two years ago. I may be wrong, but if my hunch is right, our colleague would have been walking with them through the very arboretum that I frequented during my time in Nairobi, which is where Ted and I are pictured below:

My and Ted's reunion in Nairobi, after about 6 months apart
(December 2007)

So, through these few recent encounters we have traveled from Haiti to Nairobi and back again. Beautiful connections that wrap these parts of my life and the world together.

Mèsi.

Sierra Leone, remembering

Facebook reminded me. This month 8 years ago, I was leaving my 4-month stint in Sierra Leone, heading back to southern California. Honestly, it feels like it was WAY longer ago. That time was the end of my sojourn in Africa, but it felt like the start of many things. In Sierra Leone, I got to read and discuss challenging books on Christianity and poverty with awesome people; a year later I joined the MA program at Eastern University outside of Philly, where I got to - again - read, discuss books, and share life experiences with fascinating people; and now, I am two years into my term with MCC in Haiti, another opportunity that has allowed me to cross paths with thoughtful, service-oriented folks who come from all walks of life. I don't read as much while here, but life has provided great people with whom to process life and faith (Pub Church). So today I think of Sierra Leone, and my fellow sojourners there (some of whom are pictured below.)

These are the only pictures I could scrounge up from my laptop in Haiti, and my final blog entry from Freetown, dated June 12, 2008:

"It’s noisy outside"

It's noisy on the streets outside. But, then, it's always noisy on the streets of Freetown. Except for the cool, dark nights passing by the lonely cemetery in Murray Town. Or when you climb the windy hills and sit among the gray and green cotton trees in Wilberforce and Hill Cott. Old, clapboard houses and long stone walls splashed with bright, advertising colors.

But the noises aren't all bad. Mangoes for sale. Sheeptoe, guinea, red cherry. Oh my mouth is watering; I will miss that sweet, juicy taste available morning, noon and night. Cold water, peanut cakes, pineapple, biscuits. All fresh produce! Everything you need so easy to pick up on the side of the road, just picked from fields in the provinces.

The sound of hard-working individuals. Men balancing twenty foot boards on their heads, weaving in and out of taxi and pedestrian traffic, women toting baskets of coal, two, three, four... no, seven baskets high! So graceful as they take care not to fall through the cracks in the cement slab sidewalk, into the running sewage below.

The splatter of rain. It rained today. The sound muffles the blare of honking horns and vendors announcing their goods. Soft blankets of water left us scurrying for shelter: a wooden bench offered by a crew of firemen seeming anxious for distraction. They ushered us to the junction, securing a taxi with a "fine price" for our desired destination. So willing to help; always a kind smile on the streets here, in response to our attempted Krio greetings.

A walk through Kroo Bay leaves a trail of squealing kids, all crying "Aporto! Aporto!" the Temini word for white person. If not "Aporto!" then "white man! white man!" Won't be hearing that sound again for awhile...

I love this city. I love its character. It is a part of me now, and I will never forget this town, nor this beautiful continent.

Our last weeks were awesome. For our final week of tutoring we gathered all the kids in the staff house on Dillet Street and showed them 6 episodes of the BBC series "Planet Earth." The films are stunning and it was so fun to see the kids' eyes widen in amazement at the totally unbelievable animals and insects and landscapes. They often shouted "Eh!" in unison as they saw clips of how big and diverse and stunning this world is. It was so cool.

And then, last week, the Servant Team took our debriefing retreat "upcountry." We went to a National Park called Outamba-Kilimi, past Kamakwie village on the Guinea border. It took about 10 hours and 3 modes of transport to get us there. We were IN THE JUNGLE. With white monkeys on our campsite, hippopotami, big crazy bugs straight from outer-space, and yes, MAMBA snakes (we just saw one). But it was awesome. We got the real upcountry experience, had good time to reflect on our four months here, and came home with literally hundreds of bites on our legs. ;)

And last night, we said good-bye at Lighthouse. The kids gathered round and took pictures with us, prayed for us, and said "thank you" in various ways. It's so difficult saying good-bye. I didn't really know what to say, because I don't really know if I believe that I won't be seeing them again.

Now, I'm about to fly off! I must go, but I am so glad that my leaving won't mean I am cut off from Freetown. I have friends here now, and there's no way I can forget this place, because it has blessed me and, I hope, changed me!

An Advocacy Learning Tour

Last week, MCC Haiti hosted its third Advocacy Learning Tour in recent history. What is an Advocacy Learning Tour? It is an opportunity for representatives from MCC's advocacy offices (in Ottawa, New York, Washington DC) and the regional policy analyst to deepen their knowledge of Haitian culture and the political landscape.

This year, participants enjoyed the beauty of Haiti's countryside and met with local experts on issues ranging from food sovereignty, migration crises at the border, reforestation, and Haiti's ongoing electoral process. Here is a photographic tour of our week:

Downtown Port-au-Prince. Anna Vogt.

We took a brief tour of downtown Port-au-Prince on our first afternoon together. This was a perfect treat after we had spent a few hours learning about Haitian history and recent social movements in Haiti from the educator Nixon Boumba. The streets of Haiti are popping with color, as evidenced by the public bus above, and the downtown plaza of Champ Mars boasts several statues and monuments to Haiti's heroes. The towering grey structure above was built by former President Aristide to commemorate Haiti's bicentennial in 2004. Interestingly, the torch on top of the monument was never lit.

Meeting with CODDEMIR and Pedro of Centro Bono in Malpasse. Ted Oswald.

A Saturday trip took us to Haiti’s nearest border crossing with the Dominican Republic, Malpasse, where we met with two civil society groups who are engaged in monitoring the ongoing migration crisis between the two countries. CODDEMIR (left and fourth from right) partnered with MCC to distribute material aid to a camp along the border. Pedro Cano (center) of Centro Bono monitors Dominican migration policy and educates migrants on their fundamental rights. Over lunch, our group learned how we can effectively advocate for Dominicans and Haitian migrants who are suffering from unjust immigration policies.

Community tree nursery in Kristan. Anna Vogt.

No learning tour is complete without paying a visit to MCC’s countryside office in Dezam, where we have partnered with local communities for thirty years to implement a multi-faceted reforestation program. Our group was greeted with songs and then led to the outskirts of Dezam where we witnessed the success of one of many MCC-supported tree nurseries. The tree saplings above are just a handful of 35,000 saplings at this one nursery site. This month, nursery committee members will distribute all 35,000 trees in one morning, so that community members can replant them in their own gardens, improving their family’s income and food security for the future.

Buillon. Anna Vogt.

Every cross-cultural experience comes with new flavors and aromas. One highlight of a learning tour is the immersion in Haitian cuisine. Over the week we sampled Haitian meatballs, fried chicken with carrots and string beans, fresh fish, Haiti's famous squash soup, and pikliz. Fresh lime, papaya, grapefruit, and mango juices greeted us at lunchtimes. Above is the typical dinner dish buillon made by Lucilia, the cook at our Dezam office. Made with dumplings, potatoes, boiled plantains, optional beef, bell peppers and spices, it's a great way to unwind and top off a fulfilling day.

 

Kabay. Anna Vogt.

On a misty morning we hiked to the farming community of Kabay, where MCC has worked with 160 farmers to distribute seeds and develop personal gardens, bringing much needed life to this drought-affected area. Sixty-seven farmers came together for their regular meeting and for peanut seed distribution. We spent part of our week discussing the USDA’s recent decision to ship 500 metric tons of peanuts to Haiti for school feeding programs. National and international groups have since expressed concern about this shipment undermining Haiti's local peanut market. Seeing firsthand how this news unsettled the farmers in Kabay, who rely on peanuts as one of their most valuable crops, gave us fresh ideas on how we could advocate further on behalf of Haitian farmers.

Prayer for Haiti

MCC Haiti Port-au-Prince staff: (from left) Joseph, Eclane, Fania (center), Muriel, Katharine, Rebecca with MCC consultant Josue (in back) hold our prayer for Haiti derived from a portion of the Lord's prayer.

In honor of Wednesday being Haitian Flag Day, our Tuesday morning staff devotional time was dedicated to praying for Haiti.

In following with the Lord’s Prayer, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, we explored together what that would look like in our own Haitian context.

I had been encouraged lately to look at the Lord’s Prayer and put it into my own words. In addition to repeating the interpreted words of Jesus that we find in Matthew 6 and Luke 11, why don’t we use Jesus' words as a guide, to help us explore what each phrase, each petition means for us this very today?

When we pray Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven, what do we mean? What would it look like for the Kingdom to come here in Haiti?

Doubtless our list could have been much longer, but we started our Prayer for Haiti at the close of our devotional time, as each staff member shared prayer for the Kingdom to come here in Haiti.

Our prayer (English below):

Chè Papa Dye,

Ede moun k ap fè sa ki byen nan peyi a pou yo pa dekouraje,
Fè tout moun ki ap fè peyi a mal vini a la repantans,
Mete lanmou nan kè tout moun ki trouve nan plas kote y ap pran desizyon pou peyi a,
Mete tout moun ansanm pou elimine tout divizyon ant moun, pou yon sèl ak lòt,
Padonen pep Ayisyen e ede nou fè tout sa ki bon, kòm piti Bondye sou la tè,
Kenbe moun an peyi a ki plis frajile e ba yo esperans,
Pou rekonsiliyasyon ant moun ak Bondye, moun ak moun, moun ak anvironman
Mete SHALOM W an Ayiti

Dear God,

Help those who are doing good in Haiti to not become discouraged,
Bring to repentance those who are doing Haiti ill,
Place love in the hearts of those who are in a position to make decisions for the country,
Bring people together, eliminating divisions in society, to make Haitians one,
Forgive the Haitian people and help us do that which is good as Your children,
Sustain those who are most vulnerable and give them hope,
Bring reconciliation between yourself and people, among people, and between people and their environment,
Bring your SHALOM to Haiti.

Amen.

Times of Tranzisyon*

I'd like to tell you a little bit about this picture. It was taken in February during the Carnival holiday weekend in a seaside town called Au Cayes on Haiti's south coast. Au Cayes has an iconic boardwalk in Gelée - where dozens of stalls offer delicious grilled seafood.

Popping colors, ocean breeze, and buttery fish and lobster - what's not to like? This was day 3 of our 5-day Haiti beach excursion, which included uncovering faraway beaches of Jeremie and dipping in the blue and sunset-purple waters of Port Salut, exploring caves, and swimming near cool waterfalls. But I digress...

My sharing this photo isn't really about the setting, or the auspicious weekend it recalls, but about the people it features: Kurt and Wilda Hildebrand (and yes that's me too; "hi, me!") Kurt and Wilda have been MCC Haiti's co-representatives since 2011, and Kurt's service with MCC Haiti goes back to 2006. This week, however, marks the end of their terms.

In the span of Kurt's 10-year and Wilda's 5-year service with MCC, my and Ted's year-and-9 month overlap with them could be seen as fairly brief and inconsequential. However, the truth remains that we are losing two key figures that have shaped so much of our service with MCC in Haiti thus far.

Kurt and Wilda have been our primary guides and interpreters of Haitian culture; they have provided much insight into community development and partner relationships in Haiti: endless stories, anecdotes, and good humor that have softened many-a-bewildering moment for us here. Their daughter, Akila, has been a joy to watch as she grows; she loves her world, and she loves to dance.

I'm starting to see that transition is a large part of serving with MCC. Service workers generally come in on a 3-year term. As people rarely start their terms at the same time, each year has the potential for some coming-and-going of team members. In our less-than-two years here, we have said good-bye to 3 service workers (after this week, 5), and two national staff. The frequency of the transitions, however, does not make them "easy," but I don't suppose transitions are ever supposed to be "easy."

Maybe transition is felt harder here because, as a service worker, your social networks are so much smaller than those you have back home. Or maybe it's just a good sign that you generally like the people you are working with. These experiences abroad are so formative, can be so challenging, that you hate to bid your fellow-journeyers farewell. 

Yet, Ted and I were part of a transition when we arrived here, and we will initiate another one when we leave. C'est la vie as Haitians would say. It's hard for me to imagine the numbers of international volunteers that some of our national staff have seen come-and-go over the years.

Yet Kurt's long service with MCC Haiti is a rarity in the development field, and the appreciation felt for he and Wilda's combined dedication and passion was duly expressed at a farewell party for them today (though, they did make us curb the sentimental speeches and offerings of gratitude.)

Great things come in transitions, but the need to acknowledge and grieve the loss is there all the same. 

A beautiful portrait done by our pastor, Corrigan, at MCC's request,
 as a parting gift to the Hildebrands.

* Looking at this post title, you probably think I made some goofy spelling errors, but this is actually Haitian Creole for "transition." Read it out loud - tranzisyon - the exact way it is spelled, and you will be speaking Haiti's native tongue! (Also, you are pretty close to speaking French for the same word.)

Palm Sunday

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, and this is how we celebrated.

We drove up to the Ackerman’s home, perched on a beautiful lookout over Port-au-Prince. So, our "Pub Church" has recently become mobile, and we are now "Pub-less." Since our pastor moved his business out of his previous business complex (which included the remains of an Irish Pub and also a courtyard for us to gather on Sunday mornings - hence our name "Pub church"), we have shifted between different meeting spots in peoples’ homes or in the beauty of nature.

At the Ackerman’s, we grabbed our mugs of coffee, and ingeniously situated the large palm fronds that we chopped from our front yard that morning and hauled up the mountain in the back of our pick-up. The service began.

Beautiful hymns, followed by an amazing, sort-of 3D flannel-graph display of Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem and re-telling of the story by Jodi herself.

We talked about the Sermon on the Mount; we talked about Jesus being the fulfillment of the Old Testament, a mission that was completed, was "finished" at the moment of his death on the cross. 

We discussed being the Salt – flavor - of the earth.

And then we dug in to some Indian food which was also delicious (just the right amount of salt), in celebration of a birthday.

So, palm fronds, birthdays, Sermon on the Mount: this completed our Palm Sunday celebrations.

Our pastor fighting with the giant palm branch we posted
behind his chair.

The Colonial District, Day Two

Day Two of touring in the Colonial District held as many pleasures as the first. Yes, the downpour of rain came again, but we were prepared this time! Hours of relaxing and sipping good coffee were already scheduled into our day before the wetness began :)

After dining on a charming plaza (the one filled with pigeons across from the Catedral Primada de America), we headed straight for the two museums remaining on our bucket list for the trip. We were ready to hit the history-hunting straight away!

The Ozama Fortress, built by the Spanish in the 16th century to keep the French and English at bay, looms large over the old city wall, facing out to the Ozama River and the Caribbean sea. Disturbingly, the fortress was used in recent history by the 20th century dictator Trujillo, mostly to jail and torture his political prisoners. :( We dropped the six bucks or so for a brief guided tour, definitely worth it as nothing at all was marked.

Next up, the much talked about Museo de las Casas Reales. It houses quite a random collection of historical artifacts (mostly old furniture), plus some brief history of the early Spanish colonization of Hispaniola. I was always wanting the audio guide to go a little further. ''This room features a very rare and important Renaissance-style wood carving of the Virgin Mary and the twelve disciples.'' Aaaand, that would conclude the description of the entire room. More context, please?! It's okay; I got over it :)

This museum was once the home of Diego Colón, Chris' son (yes, he also lived in the Alcazar de Colon, which we visited the day before.) In the century, the dictator Trujillo set up shop and ran the country from this historic site. (That guy liked hearkening back to the D.R.'s colonial history, didn't he?) The museum is now home to... these beautiful peacocks! Who enjoy strutting around the cobblestone courtyard.

Strike a pose.

 

I enjoyed capturing the beautiful flourishes of Spanish colonial architecture surrounding this museum, as well as the small charms of the streets on my Instagram throughout the trip.

Lunch was had at a snazzy outdoor cafe type of place (called Zona Zuna or something like it), where we indulged in... you won't believe it... nachos and tacos! They were divine, I'm tellin' ya.

In the afternoon, we explored the city a bit by car. Our attempt to find a park entrance that would lead us to some moderately well-reviewed ancient caves had us driving in circles for a bit, with no eventual success. Perhaps the most interesting site we ''bumped into'' on our trek was this church, Santa Barbara's.

There were actually old churches tucked away in every corner of this district!

After the fun drive, we fit in some napping, some coffee-sipping, and then back to dine at the restaurant where we started the day! Why not? All in all, I couldn't have asked for a more chill, culturally informative, and historically pleasing couple of days. We look forward to exploring other bits of the country!

Our first Escapades into the Dominican Republic

Our trip to the D.R. last week exposed us to a whole new world that is just a few hours away from us, across the border that separates these two different but forever linked countries that share the island of Hispaniola.

We traveled with MCC companions to meet with Mennonite pastors in the eastern town of Padre Las Casas and in the capitol of Santo Domingo, then Ted and I had two and a half full days to explore the finer parts of the city together. Rain and grey skies aside, it was a wonderful and relaxing dip into history, plus a cool cultural experience for us both!

First, we got to experience the Old World meets New World fusion in the architecture of the Catedral Primada de America, the oldest church in the New World that is still in use. The cathedral is parked right in Parque Colon, so named for Christopher Columbus (who is really Cristóbal Colón in Spanish.)

Though Columbus first landed in the north and western parts of the island, he set up shop in several spots in Haiti and the D.R., and Santo Domingo became the seat from which Spain governed all of its holds in the New World.

One major difference between Haiti and the D.R. is in the way they appreciate their histories. In Santo Domingo, Colombus' stamp was seen everywhere. From this park (above), to the ancient residences of his family members, which are now preserved and showcased as historical attractions, Dominican tourism draws heavily on this aspect of the island's history. Whereas in Haiti, colonial era history is scarcely preserved and Colombus is more likely to be despised for the era of exploitation he introduced. 

As much as the historian in me would be fascinated to explore a replica of a colonial era plantation or town in Haiti, none of this was preserved after the Haitian Revolution. Nor can I see that type of preservation taking place for touristic benefits. All plantations were purposefully razed to the ground by newly freed Haitians, who did not want such bold symbols of colonial power and human suffering to remain in their midst.

Next up, we visited this beautiful monastery, Convento de los Dominicos, made famous by Fray Bartolomé de las Casas. Las Casas was the Dominican friar who wrote extensively in defense of the native peoples in the Americas and was even named the first ''Protector of the Indians" by Spain. He wrote many of his famous works from this very church. This name from the history books came alive for me as we strolled along the pews, which were filled with newly initiated nuns and friars by the way! It was great to see such a noble figure from history honored in the city (a little break from all the Columbus fever around town.)

Dominicans are very proud of their history and revere their leaders who fought for independence, first from Spain in 1822 and then from Haiti. This is something the D.R. and Haiti seem to have in common. Their struggles for independence loom large in their current imaginations. The heroes of Haitian independence - Louverture, Dessalines, Petion  - are invoked with passion in electoral campaigns today. I had a Dominican pastor share with me in a I-hope-you-already-knew-this tone, ''you know, Dominicans fought for their independence from Haiti, not Spain." I got the sense this wasn't ancient history for many Dominicans, much like the American civil war is not ancient history in many parts of the U.S. 

At the Pantheon, the remains of some of these prominent figures from Dominican history are interned and guarded. Visitors keep a church-like silence.

Lunchtime showers had us scrambling inside for a quiet meal, as we listened to the increasingly dramatic rainfall splatter across the roof of our quaint but chic stone-walled restaurant. Instead of calling it a day and crawling back to our hotel room for loooong afternoon naps, we continued the sight-seeing once the rain subsided.

Behold! 

The final site of our tourism adventures of the day. The grey clouds rolled in once again (we could have sworn they were gone!) Ted ran across this plaza in the pouring rain, with our admission tickets in hand for the Alcazar de Colon. Diego Colon, Columbus' son, lived here at one time. Destroyed over the years but restored in the 20th century to be used as a museum, this site was fun to walk through, and even more fun to be stranded in for a bit by the rain. 

Waiting out the storm in my colonial-era perch.

Once the rain broke (for about 2 minutes), we ran across the plaza again, to sit at a renowned restaurant. Sure we had hoped to ''spruce up'' for the event, but our Tevas and Chacos had to do! We took our time, enjoying a meal that started at about 5:15pm, a little earlier than anticipated. :)