The Candy Queen, Roller Coasters, Hot Air Balloons, and Other Stuff and Nonsense.

Well, well, well. Here I am writing only my second blog of the semester--which we are almost five weeks into btdubs! How did that happen?! I think I am going to have to schedule blog time, just so it gets done. Warning before I get any farther into this thing, it's going to be kinda schizo, so hold on for the ride.

Thanks to a wonderful Friday night full of good, better, and best friends I didn't get to bed until almost two a.m. Normally not a big deal, however... this morning's schedule included an EIGHT A.M. TA meeting. Though this is not the important part of the story... here's the scene.

Walking out of my apartment I am met by a beautiful fall morning in Provo. You know one of those morning where the air doesn't just feel crisp but actually smells crisp and the sun seems just a little more distant than usual, lazily working its way to the top of a perfect blue sky. I hop in the car, and immediately turn on the radio and surf hopefully for a favorite song and bingo! So far, a good day. Pushing just five over the speed limit, I climb the hill to school, and am met by this sight...



I kid you not-- floating ever so gently through my perfect fall morning is a massive hot air balloon. Now, confession: I have a secret love for hot air balloons. I don't know why--personally, I think it's possible I simply floated my merry way through another life in a hot air balloon. They feel so controlled and yet free. So simply me.

Beautiful morning.

Moving along this bloggy roller coaster, here's a memory and some pictures from my Haiti trip this past summer.

In preparation for my trip to Haiti, I purchased a lot of Dumb-Dumbs and Bubble Yum. I heard so many stories about the children--how they would run up to you in the streets just to hold your hand and use what few English words they knew. I wanted to be ready with candy for them. I took almost 1,000 pieces and quickly became known as the Candy Queen.

The school children dressed in beautiful, vivid yellow and baby blue uniforms that glowed in the hot Haitian sun and looked so out of place in the filthy streets. These children would often stop at our gate to visit with us, and I naturally gave away my candy while using the few phrases I know in creole. I would ask them things like, "Sak Pase?" (what's up?), say "Bonjou!" (Good Morning!), and "Kijan ou rele?" (What is your name?). Word quickly spread of the girl with "chiclèt" (chewing gum). I gained quite the following. Sweet babies.

This is our house, and there is that wonderful gate.

This is the view across the street. The Original internet cafe and right next door is the change booth. We would swap out larger goud for smaller bills. The man who ran this booth became a pretty good friend of mine. He would always say, "Bon swa, Alissa. " (they would pronounce the first A in my name the way you say the letter--a. And they would pronounce the i like an e. AAAleessa :). Then he would make fun of my almost nonexistent french.

And last but most importantly, the kids.

The gate would often be filled from left to right with glowing yellow and blue uniforms and even brighter smiling faces. The happiness I saw in the faces of Haitians is one of the most amazing things. They are truly a delight. We could take a lesson from them. They have nothing in life but that which is most important--family, friends, and hope. They helped me to think about where I look for happiness. Let me let you in on a little secret--western culture teaches you to look for it in all the most empty places, and you can't make something out of nothing, especially happiness--at least not the kind that lasts, that enriches the soul.

I hope that these posts give you a little taste of my experience. It's something I will never be able to describe to you completely.

All my love.

Song of the day is Lonely Little Petunia by Imogen Heap. Look it up.