Words and Images of Brooke James

Right now I'm spending a lovely couple of weeks with my friends and family in Washington and getting to play auntie to my gorgeous niece and nephew, as well as one of my best friends' kids. She had her second baby, Juliet, just a few weeks ago.

Before coming back here I moved in with our church's new pastor, John, and his wife, Jocie. They are from Australia, hilarious, kind, wise, and also my friend Brittany's parents-in-law. A great perk to living here: Brittany and her family, as well as my nurse friend, Ashley, all live next door to us. John and Jocie have begun ministering to a couple of boys from a tent city in a really beautiful way. A couple of days a week the boys come over to their house and they work a bit around the house (teaching them a skill that they can use in future years and giving them dignity, as well), then John and Jocie provide a meal for them while they all talk. Then, they play soccer, basketball, or other games with the boys. The love, guidance, prayers, and wisdom they are giving these boys is very beautiful to watch.

A few Sundays ago, after church, we found that one of the boys, Dupren, was throwing up in the bathroom. We were also told by another boy, Edly, that Dupren's bike had been stolen at church. Jocie and I talked to Edly and a third boy (I don't recall his name) who had witnessed the bike-steaing incident. This third boy knew where to find the kid who stole the bike. Jocie fetched a nice English and Creole-speaking man from church who could help us and we loaded up the kids in her car. Pastor John had a church meeting to attend to, so he wasn't able to assist. I looked at Jocie and asked, "Is it wrong that I am excited about going to find this bike?" "Oh no, I am just as excited as you!" This was our first adventure as Nancy Drew wanna-be's.

The third kid took us to the thief's neighborhood, then some of us walked the rest of the way in. Jocie stayed behind with her car and a few of her friends who were passengers in the car, but I was instructed to remember every detail of the encounter. When we approached the suspect's house, we all saw the bike "hidden" behind some cardboard. Our Haitian translator/muscle spoke with the kid's father, who said he had suspected something amiss when the kid brought it home, saying he found it in the trash. I chewed out the kid a bit when he told me that he just found it at church, thinking no one wanted it (Dupren didn't have a way to lock it up). "Do you take everything you just see you want?" We left, with the bike, with no struggle or arguments. When we returned to the Meadth's house, Jocie and I told John we will be opening our own detective agency. Apparently I need to watch the show or read the books The Number One Ladies' Detective Agency. Let me know if you live in Haiti, preferably the Delmas area of Port au Prince, and need some crafty, smart detectives to solve your crimes. All this adventure and more, you'll find in Haiti, people.