It's 10:10, which means it feels like it's midnight since Haiti virtually shuts down and restarts with the setting and rising of the sun, so I'll make this one quick. Today we went to the Haitian/American church called Port au Prince Fellowship. It's an experience in itself, and if anyone were to tell me about a plan for this type of church I would have been a nay sayer, laughed and told them it would never work. I say this because the service is in english, and yet 95% of the attendees are Haitians. It is a beautiful mix of foreign and local, joyful worship, and servant hearts. It's organic and wonderful. The singing is not polished, but it's awesome...like a rusty old pickup truck that has it's own intrigue, style, and character. You wouldn't take it to a car show, but you'd be proud to drive it. Afterwards we had a nice lunch and watched a gentleman crush a can of beans on his head (more on that another day...maybe, I'm still trying to process what happened). We overheard a conversation in which Carlos Whittaker was mentioned (my sister's husband's brother who is big in the blogosphere), which was funny to us...we'll have to let him know that he's being spoken of in the Haitian missionary circles. Zoe has made a new friend, Katie Grace, who is 9 years old and looks and acts eerily like Zoe. They had an amazing tea party, I was envious. I took the girls swimming for a little daddy/daughter time while Jen let the boys have a raucous time in the bath. We had leftovers for dinner, and had some amazing milkshake/coffee/choclate type dessert/drink that Byron our neighbor and host made for us. And now all the kids are sacked out on the futon, and Jen has abandoned me once again as I burn the Haitian midnight oil to keep you updated. Good night mom, my faithful commentor (and you too Lani)....and to all of you that do read, and leave no feedback, g'night.