Republica Dominicana

That is where I spent my spring break. I went with YL to a spend a week building on a camp there called Pico Escondido. It. Was. Awesome.

It was such a great experience. Everything. Including the whole 'not being able to understand a lick of Spanish so I result to hand gestures and speaking loudly' American way of dealing with immersion. It also made me resolve to learn Spanish. I think I'll Rosetta Stone it.

We went to the camp to help build on it. Our projects included building a stone path (Really fun! Think gigantic puzzle...) and staining, sanding, and varnishing bunkbeds for the new dorms they are building. The boys on the trip also poured a slab of concrete for the floor of the new dorm. 

This is a section of the path that we made. Yes, I welcome pats on the back.

This is a spot we were particularly proud of. Lizzi found this rock 

and we just had to use it. 

We worked so hard. But it was so worth it to think of the future of the camp. All of the kids that will walk that path, or lay in their bunk crying out to Jesus. It was such an privilege to get to be a part of Pico Escondido's history. 

These are a few pictures from around camp. I had told myself before going on this trip that I would be a good picture taker. I got a gigantic 'F' for fail. These pictures don't even come close to doing the camp justice.

This is an overlook of the pool, and you can see the gym in the distance.  Note the beautiful stone pathway. Everything there is so aesthetically well done.

The fire pit. More of the stone path we laid. 

Happy Campers after a delicious meal.

The most common form of transportation in the DR. It's not uncommon to see 4 or 5 people crammed onto one of these things. I saw a family of 4 on one with the mother dangling her baby off the side. Talk about safe.

Little Andee Q. Love this face.

And this face.

And this one.

Leaving camp:(

We got to stop at a market on our way to the 'Debrief' site. This was the only picture that I snapped, but I thought it was a pretty good one.

Maybe a touch inappropriate. But quite hilarious. And totally proportional. 

For our 'Debrief' we got to go stay at a resort in Santo Domingo. It was the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. White sand, crystal clear bluest blue water calmly lapping the shore, the sun warming my face. I know all you Coloradans are drooling:)

Sunrise on the beach.

Overall, I had a spectacular time. It helped me realize how big God is. He doesn't just work in my little town, or just my state, or even just my country. He is alive and well in the Dominican Republic and all over the world. 

This is the post that never ends, but I just have one closing statement.  I bought a bunch of candy in the airport on the way home (you know, duty-free and all that jazz). Bella was the one that ended up getting to enjoy it all. Literally all of it. Wrappers included. And a tube of chapstick. I wouldn't be surprised if I went out in the front yard in the morning and was greeted by a multicolored sprinkle-topped confection that she pooped out all over my turf. That dog.

Dog Farts

Bella just farted and I think the noise scared her a smidge.  She looked around like, "Who was that?" She makes me laugh daily.

She also burps after she eats. Not like a little one either...it's a belch. A loud one.  I have never met a dog with more human-ish bodily functions.

Scuffle at the Nursing Home

I just went to visit my grandma (Mamaw) in Ohio this past weekend. She lives in an "assisted living facility". AKA Nursing Home.

Me with my sweet Mamaw

 Now I had never been privy to the goings on of such a place before, so upon entry I found myself holding my breath and feeling a little nervous. My sister Heather, who had come on the trip with me, had warned me of the sights, sounds, and, yes, smells of the place.  If you had heard the stories, you would be nervous too.

Well, it turned out not to be so bad...if you could ignore the constant smell of #2 and the woman two rooms down screaming, "SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!".  But overall, the nurses were kind and the residents were very pleasant.  Most of them would call out an excited greeting as they shuffled (or scooted in a wheel chair) past you in the hallway.

My favorite times at the "facility" took place in the dining hall.  Heather and I would pull up chairs to Mamaw's table and chit-chat with her table mates. Our ears were frequently caught tidbits of conversation between the other residents and the nurses such as, "Just one more bite!", or "Swallow that pill now," and sometimes just general moaning from residents that were more severely disabled.  During one particularly noisy period, Mamaw's table mate nudged me and said, "They sound like a bunch of wolves, don't they?" Comic relief. I think if I hadn't laughed, I would have cried.

Now for the absolute highlight of the trip.  We are sitting in the dining hall when a fight breaks out.  Little-Smoker-Lady-with-No-Dentures had finally had enough of Big-Bossy-Overbearing-Woman's crap.  Name calling ensues.  "SHUT UP!!!", "YOU SHUT UP!", "Why don't you just leave everyone the hell alone!", "Mind your own damn business!", "Ahh, go F*** yourself!!!".  Words I never thought I would hear from an 80 year old. After the two had been broken up and everything was settling back down, the nurse walks by our table and says casually, "Ya, we double as bouncers..." Classic.

Here are some more pictures from our eventful stay in Cincinnati:

Heather, Mamaw & I at Bob Evans.

Mamaw scarfed her Biscuits&Gravy:)

Aunt Pam, Aunt Mary, Mamaw, Heather and Me

Heather and Karla (who was a wonderful hostess)

My cousins Thomas and Ryan. They're my boys:)

Mamaw was a hairstylist. She used to give me haircuts

while I sat on her dryer.  Now I get to do her hair!

(That's Big-Bossy-Overbearing-Woman in the background. 

Would you want to mess with her?)

I have a dream.

"I have a dream," but not quite like Martin Luther King Jr.  Mine did not involve concise in-depth topics such as integration, but rather many strange happenings blended together to form one very confusing delusional fantasy including but not limited to: attack dogs, hiking a 14er with my 87 year old grandmother, living on a pirate ship, and my little sister going missing and turning up in Europe just having bought a brand new sports car. I have no idea how I come up with these things.

I don't have these dreams very often. But when I do, they are intense and so vividly resemble real life that I usually wake fairly certain that one or all of the events of the night actually occurred.  For instance that my dog Bella chewed every square inch of wood in my house, and then I'm actually mean to her in the morning.  Or that both of my front teeth fell out. (That one really, truly scared me. I love my teeth. They're pretty.)

I also tend to talk in my sleep a lot. Ask my husband. He has stories. Like after working 9 days straight at Bongo's (a coffee shop) asking Robin if he would like "room for cream in your coffee?". Or after playing poker one night screaming at him saying, "I HAVE ACE, KING!!!".  And last night I physically shook him awake and told him that he should, "get a job with the passports" (I had just applied for one) There is never a dull moment in our bedroom...get your mind out of the gutter.

Ode to a Piercing

A nose piercing in fact. As in I received one yesterday.

Scene 1: Enter Rachelle.
Rachelle to friend that she sees daily: "I think I want to get my nose pierced."
Friend: "I thought you had your nose pierced!"
Rachelle: "Interesting. Did you also happen to think that I looked good with it done?"

Scene 2: Enter another friend that she sees daily.
Rachelle to friend that she sees daily: "I'm thinking about getting my nose pierced."
Friend #2: "Don't you already have your nose pierced?"

Can you sense the monotony? This continues to go on with a number of unobservant people. I finally decide that, hey, if they all think that I already have it done, it will surely look good. Decision made.

Scene 2, Shrap Metal: Enter Rachelle.

As an aside, I really enjoy going into Tattoo shops. Is this strange? The seedy entry pockmarked with equally sketchy persons talking about what obscene body part they plan on decorating, the smell of cigarettes wafting from the back, and the hilariously crass man handing out forms at the front desk all blend to form an experience that I can only label strangely enthralling. I find myself trying to inch the collar of my shirt over far enough so that one of them will glimpse my backpiece. I love talking about it. Maybe it's because I secretly want them to know that I belong there. I know it's stupid, but I think it's my adolescent hardcore groupie (not literally) past resurfacing. At any rate, there is a part of me that feels at home in said locations.

Rad Piercer Guy to Rachelle: "Are you nervous?"
Rachelle: "No...I mean a little. Yes. I'm nervous."
Rad Piercer Guy: It'll be over before you know it."
Rachelle closes eyes and clenches jaw.
Ow. I don't care who says it doesn't hurt. This is coming from a girl who has 10 hours worth of ink on her back. It hurt. Like a mother.

But it was beautiful.

Scene 3, Rachelle's House: Enter friend that sees Rachelle daily.
Friend: Babbling on about life notices Rachelle pointing at her nose. "What?"
Rachelle: "I got my nose pierced!"
Friend: "Well, ya, I noticed it, but I thought that you'd always had it?!"
Rachelle: *sigh*