The Caribbean is amazing. I never knew that there were so many shades of blue. The sky and water seem to meet in amazing symphony of radiant blue that plays with the rays of the sun in a way that makes them sparkle. As you look in the distance, the mountains rise in all directions through the haze of the distance.
It is hard to believe that the beauty of this place coexists unforgivingly with it's poverty. It is a world of extremes. Beautiful scenery in an amazing location, but with such crippling poverty and lack of industry.
Wading through water that was up to our neck, we could still see our feet. I have never been in a sea that is so clear. We could see the jellyfish coming close to us and get out of there way. Impossible to do on the muddy waters I grew up in. We were the only blancs at the beach. In fact, we've been the only whites that I have seen on the trip. We saw UN forces here. The tanks on the street could not be photographed and the helicopters flew often. But, they were from Bangladesh. The security scene is completely different than in the United States. There is almost no presence, but the ones you see have body armor and machine guns and look equipped for riot control. Yet, our encounters with Hatians on this trip to the beach were incredibly positive. However, we left one enclosed compound for another.
One other interesting thing happened today. The Hatians in the compound did not call me you anymore. They all referred to me as pastor Brad. Something changed after the sermon.
After the halfway point on my walk this morning, heading back towards home, I saw something you don’t see every day. It was a mockingbird chasing a hawk. The hawk was probably five times the size of the mockingbird. But the chase was all in the attitude. The mockingbird was squawking and chirping in a language that would make a sailor blush. The hawk wanted no part of it and was trying the flee but could not get away from the mockingbird. What had the hawk done? What had agitated the mockingbird so much? Had it been a transgression? Was the hawk just too close for comfort? Or did the two have a history. I was walking a bit later than normal and had not yet seen this routine. The unusual scene distracted and entertained me as I reflected on a myriad of permutations. As I’ve felt like the one receiving the squawk most of my life as a leader, I was surprised at how proud I was of the little mockingbird. Maybe ...
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