Willamstad, Curacao (cure-ah-sau) Arrival!

Curacao is part of the Lesser Antillies owned by The Netherlands. This is an incredible country with European flavor in the southern Carribbean. We are extremely blessed to celebrate Christmas and New Years in such beautiful surroundings. I was shocked when first departing the ship in this port to see many cacti and animals indigenous to.....Phoenix! It was like being home, but with beautiful waters; the best of both worlds perhaps?

Parika, Guyana Day 5: Finish small projects, then return to the ship

Sun rising over camp

Moving a couple toilets...

After hanging the fresh sign by camp's entrance


John and Tyler would be proud!

Jaimee and I absolutely exhausted.

Monday morning. Last day in Parika and we had only a couple jobs remaining: begin to dig another foundation (which Roger would finish), repair the chicken coop, move some outhouses, and finish painting the office. I went to work with Roger on the new foundation, then painted the new YWAM office. Josef and Anderson hung up the sign out front to complete our work. So much was completed and there is so much still to be done. I pray that future missionaries staying at camp will have the wonderful experiences that we all were blessed to have. Now it's back to "normal" life on the ship...

Parika, Guyana Day 4: Church and Alligator hunting!

Our church was right down the street from the YWAM camp.

The way I play cricket....by smashing softballs with the wooden paddle!

Aboarding the first boat with Roger as motorman.

Clueless of the adventures that were in store for me.

Passing some locals while boating down our first river.

I was fearless with my machete...outside the murky, gator infested waters.

Going to board the hunting boat named "Sea Wolf"...sounds threatening to gators!

Local boy, Jaimee, and myself before getting into the hunting boat.

The local holding a live pirana with his bare hands

The hunter was becoming impatient for alligators....

Have you ever seen such smooth water? All cloud details are reflected!

Holding the lethargic beast...yeah they are both still alive!

the locals will cook these guys on a BB-Q later

Sunday morning we had church within walking distance from our camp. All 12 of us gave a presentation about ship life to the entire church. After service, I went back to have lunch and change into my gator hunting gear. During the down we had between lunch and hunting, I found some fun times wacking a softball to the local boy via cricket bat. When it was time to leave, 9 out of the 12 ship people walked over a half mile to the river where we would board the boat. As we were navigating up the river, we passed a couple docks with locals enjoying the calm waters. One group of people were fishing with sticks and strings. We then arrived at the dam where we would remove the outboard engine and evacuate the boat. The side we arrived on was level controlled for the community, but the other side was 100% uninhabited; marshland as far as the eye can see. I felt like I was in the pages of National Geographic. As we made our way to the next boat, we saw that it was flooded and the locals were scooping out the water. During their laborous discharging process, one guy picked up a Pirana right out of the boat...which made me feel "safe" about our near future voyage. He brought the carnivorous Serrasalmus over to us in a bucket and picked it up with his bare hands and placed a twig in front of its chompers. Immediately, it bit down hard and he was able to let go and allow the fish to hang there a while before falling into the bucket. After throwing it back into our hunting waters, I boarded the boat last because the front is where the action is. The water was like glass the entire rest of the way; an absolute perfect reflection from the cloudy sky. The sun was starting to hide behind the horizon and adrenaline was starting to rise. I asked the local when the hunt begins and he responded with a surprising answer: "When it's dark, with flashlights". Oh, wow... About 15 minutes later, the breeze starting to become chilly and my eyes struggled to see anything beyond 10 feet in front of me. They pulled out flashlights and told us to look for red eyes near the boat; that would be the gators. Noone spoke and the engine was turned down to idle to be as quiet as possible. The man in front motioned with his hands to the guy in the back who was steering the boat. He motioned to the left and the boat coasted into the swamp-grass and he reached down into the water (bare-handed, of course...) and pulled out a small, baby alligator. He mentioned that in this area, they are smaller and less aggressive. He pointed out to the left and said "That's where the big crocs and Anacodas are"..I found myself to be content in the smaller-gator area. A little while later, he pointed to the right and swept his hand into the grass. I couldn't see what or if he picked anything out because the moon didn't supply adequate lighting. When his hand arrived closer to my face, he shined the flashlight on the 2 1/2 foot long reptile. When you hold them right below their head, they are quite still and put up no fight whatsoever. We passed it around the boat and headed back to our starting point. Some friends were in a different boat and they, too caught quite a few big ones (pictured above) but already killed two of them. We walked back home pretty late and the locals took the gators home to eat in the next days. I never did have the opportunity to taste freshly caught gator...not too sure if that is a bad thing.

Parika, Guyana Day 3: Finishing the water tank foundation.

Saturday morning started out like yesterday, except I gave up on the mosquito net at night in lieu of an ample breeze around my body via fan. After devotions, Roger grabbed me to start laying sand and water inside our foundation. Jaimee was busy with some other work, so we snagged Fabian to help us. Our plan was to lay more concrete once the the sand was fully packed tight. We were interrupted halfway through the project by a vigorous rain storm which lasted for about 20 minuets. The locals depend on the rain for showering, cooking, drinking, etc. After it collects in the gutters and into a holding tank, it is then pumped into a higher tank which is gravity fed for pressure. After the rain, I took a little break to watch some neighbor boys play cricket. I'm not schooled on the official rules of the game, but I'd assume the catcher is suppose to wear something over his underwear....maybe Parika rules are more lenient. Work then continued and we were able to finished smoothing out the concrete and Simone tagged a nice picture of the ship into the foundation. The others painted inside the new YWAM office, repaired a chicken coop, and more gardening on camp property. That night after dinner, Jaimee and I spent the evening playing more pool for free; this time on the same team.

Parika, Guyana Day 2: Work hard all day. See the town and play pool with the locals afterwards.

5am Friday morning I woke up under a mosquito net after a couple of impatient roosters rudely interrupted my sleep. Rushing to grab a flash light, I checked my surroundings for frightening creatures. Last night we had frogs on our door step, lizards on our walls near our beds, and cockroaches, beetles, etc around the floors. Luckily, everything was clear; but I was drenched in sweat nonetheless. Making my way outside, the cool morning breeze felt like a slice of heaven as the trees were silhouetted by the dimly lit sky. While sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, I thought to myself: "This really is Guyana". We had breakfast at 6 and devotions half past. When the team leader started to divvy up jobs to the sleepy 12, I opted to help build a foundation for a water tank in the next door neighbor's back yard with two other guys. The 9 other ship people who came with us were planning on finishing a large water tank, gardening, and doing other misc. tasks. So me, Jaimee, Elyse, (I called him Mad dog cause he's from Mad-dog-gascar, and that was better than saying his real name which sounds dangerously close to "Alice") and the local professional builder named Roger. We made our way through the hole in fence, across a trench via wooden board, past the chickens, ducks, and half-naked children to the neighbor's back yard. There we cleared the existing rubbish and plotted out our rectangle to dig a trench. After the surprisingly tough, sticky soil was dug out, it was time to make cement. We had a concrete bed at the Ywam camp and used it to mix the sand, gravel, and cement. After shoveling into the wheelbarrow, every trip involved pushing the heavy solution across a board, through the fence, onto another narrow board with a 3 foot drop into mud underneath, through the group of animals, past the curious children, ending at the trench. Each passing was an adventure to say the least. After filling the trench, we accurately placed our blocks on top and filled with some more cement. Closing into 3pm and immensely exhausted, we were finished for the day. The family who lived where I was working were all very nice. The little children were a lot of fun and enjoyed running around chasing us with dead creatures they had found, trying to put them in our pockets. Someone must have let the secret out that Westernized people are afraid of dead bugs and the rascals were taking full advantage.
After dinner, I went for another walk around the community. The average wooden homes were staunchly contrasted by the bright pink, green, and orange (usually wealthy Muslim) homes beside them. The sun was starting to set and evening plans were still open to whatever would happen next. Roger, the high-booted fella in the green shirt and blue shorts pictured above who patiently taught us to mix cement and lay blocks, informed me about a pool table inside a small general store/snack shop next door where he plays regularly. That night I decided to go over and make new friends. Since I had no money, my plan was primarily spectating. Walking through the door (okay, the hole in the front) I immediately recognized Roger and some locals from earlier in the day. A man with gold teeth who turns out is the owner told me I was on his team and after explaining I had no money, they all emphatically stated I was playing anyways. So all Friday night...and Saturday night too, my time was spent hanging with the local guys, playing pool, watching cricket on the t.v., and sharing many laughs. Hey, I even won a few games, proving that missionaries without money, gold teeth, or a fancy Caribbean accent have mad skills too.