I am typing this from the sanctuary of Hannesboro Presbyterian Church, about twenty minutes outside of Gulfport, Mississippi. I am sitting on the floor behind the pulpit—the place where I found a plug that works. The church looks amazing—something I am told is because a lot of work cleaning it up since Katrina. Another interesting story about this church…apparently before Katrina the church and its facilities were open one hour a week, for Sunday services, and then closed up and unused the rest of the week. Now, in addition to housing much of our team for the week, it is the relief center for this part of Mississippi and has almost constant activity. Some higlights of the trip so far:
I am typing this from the sanctuary of  Hannesboro Presbyterian Church, about twenty minutes outside of Gulfport, Mississippi.  I am sitting on the floor behind the pulpit—the place where I found a plug that works.  The church looks amazing—something I am told is because a lot of work cleaning it up since Katrina. Another interesting story about this church…apparently before Katrina the church and its facilities were open one hour a week, for Sunday services, and then closed up and unused the rest of the week. Now, in addition to housing much of our team for the week, it is the relief center for this part of Mississippi and has almost constant activity.

Some higlights of the trip so far:

There are 27 of us on the trip, 8 women, 19 men. By some horrible twist of fate, the women are all sleeping in an unfinished barn (what used to be the tool shed) on cots and air matresses, while most of the men are in the ‘Grace House,’ which, among other things, is carpeted and has a large color tv! This is not right! When I walked in to the Grace House the guys were all sitting comfortably (there are no chairs for ‘sitting comfortably’ in the barn, and even if there were, there is no room for them among our wall to wall cots and air mattresses) watching the Broncos football game.  I did get quite a response from them when I asked if they would minding switing over to Desperate Housewives…
Just as a bit of background, the Grace House is a house that was bought by Grace Presbyterian, in Long Beach, with part of their funds from their recently building program—they figured they should spend some of that money investing in others, so they bought a place to house volunteers that are coming down to work on the rebuilding projects with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance.

I flew in a day ahead of the team and took the opportunity to visit friends from Scotland (but they are Americans), Tee and Kathryn, who live two hours away in Baton Rouge. The last time I had seen them was in Scotland about a year and a half ago, in the hospital, hours after their daughter Sarah was born, and as I was on my way to catch a train to begin my journey back to the US. So, it was fun to see Sarah, now 18, and Thomas, now just over 3, and to get to spend some time with Tee and Kathryn over dinner last night.

On my way back from Baton Rouge I drove through New Orleans. I have never been to New Orleans, so I don’t have anything to compare it with. I didn’t really know where I wanted to go, so I saw the Super Dome and drove past that, then found my way to Canal Street and onto Bourbon Street and through some neighborhoods of the French Quarter. I am ashamed to admit that one of the first things that came to mind was, ‘gosh, this looks so much like Disneyland, like…oh, that makes sense…like New Orleans square…’

I was back in Gulfport in time for lunch at, I am also afraid to admit it, Applebee’s. I do have this tendency toward liking chain restaurants, and I would love to say that it was just what was convenient at the time, but actually, I had seen this particular Applebee’s when I arrived yesterday and premedidated going there for lunch today! To my defense, we don’t have Applebee’s in Newport Beach, so it is not something I can get at home (though driving 30 miles could get me there, but who wants to expend all that effort just to go to Applebee’s??) and during my time in Princeton I became rather fond of their boneless buffalo wings. So, there I was, sitting in an Applebee’s, eating my boneless buffalo wings, when a woman, who seemed like a local, said to the others at her table, “We mighta shoulda gotten some of these here new potatoes…” I love it! I am definitely in Mississippi! Not only that, we had ‘sweet tea’ with dinner tonight.

I just got word that the lights in the barn are being turned out (it does have lights!) and since I am sleeping up in the loft, I should probably get out there and make my way up the ladder before I have to climb it in the dark…

Though I have found free wireless internet access in Paris, it happens to be on the front steps of a church, outside along the street. This would be a bit odd to passerby, but otherwise fine, except that I think it is beginning to sprinkle…

But while I had the chance I wanted to say that yes, I made it safely out of Malawi and had a wonderful trip. I have a selection of my pictures posted.

The other big news is that my friends Stuart and Julianne and I all successfully finished the Belfast Marathon! The course was a bit random…including a jaunt by the city dump, a finish line hidden along a winding path through the Ormeau Park, and a remote stretch of no spectators and no water stations from miles 18 to 22 (when we definitely could have used both!) but we had fun and we did it! Pictures from the marathon (I bought a disposable camera and carried it along our way, and Stuart’s parents came and cheered us on and took photos at three different points along the way) as well as some other Northern Ireland adventures are also posted.

On Saturday I flew into Paris to begin my ten day photography course here. (I have to say that a man just walked by and said something to me in French—keep in mind, I am just sitting along the street, on the ground! I looked at him, smiled, and didn’t say anything back (I know more Chichewa, the language of Malawi, at this point than French) and he caught on and said ‘addiction’ pointing to the laptop…who me, addicted to the internet, sitting on the ground in the almost rain? Nah.) The course is taught by an American who lives in Paris and there are twelve of us in the course, all Americans (it is an American company that offers these workshops around the world). There is one guy from San Diego in the course, another woman from Vermont whose family lives in Huntington Beach, and another man who lives in NYC, Jewish, and very involved with the Israeli/Palestinian issue, so much so that when I said I was Presbyterian he responded by giving me an earful of the Presbyterians recent discussions on divesting from companies that support Israel’s occupation of Palestine. Needless to say (which Jack says is a pointless thing to say…if it is needless, why say it?) we had quite an interesting dinner conversation last night, given my recent experiences in Israel and Palestine.

This morning as I was heading out to shoot (photos) I met a guy from Bosnia who asked me about the situation of Muslims in America. Yesterday I met a guy from Sudan who has come to Paris to find work, due to the horrible conditions of life in Sudan. This morning I also talked with a man from India and two from Senegal who were selling Eiffel Tower key chains. I did talk to one woman, who I asked for directions to Rue Cler. She shook her head and said something that sounded like Spanish, so instead of my faltering Bonjour, do you know where Rue Cler is, I switched to ‘hablas espanol?’ She was from Columbia and gave me great directions to Rue Cler, in Spanish.

So, so far I’ve got Bosnia, Sudan, India, Senegal, Columbia, oh, and the guy who works at my hotel (more about the hotel in a minute) is from Morocco, a few New Yorkers, Vermont, California…maybe soon a Parisian?

Just a word about my ‘hotel.’ It was the cheapest thing I could find. It did mention that the bathroom was down the hall. I was prepared for that. What it did not mention was that the shower was down the hall, separate, and requiring a key. The key is stored at the reception desk. This is better than the hotel I stayed in in Venice where the actual bathroom was behind the reception desk (I vowed to never skimp on an ensuite bathroom again…til now) which meant going with your towel and toiletries and saying hello to the people waiting to check in… The shower key issue was marginal when I was on the 2nd floor (really what we would call the third, as they start with zero). But the room on the second floor opened out to a very busy street that did not quite down until about 4AM. After three nights of trying to acclimate to the trucks, cars, drunks, tow trucks, motor bikes I realized acclimating wasn’t happening and switched rooms. The only catch was that the only other single room available was on the 6th floor…remember the shower key? Oh yeah, and the other disclaimer, when I was booking the room, along with the showers being down the hall, was that there is no lift. Let’s just saying showering frequently might not be all its cracked up to be…

The sky seems to be darkening, so I will end this for now. One other thing—for those on the west coast you may get this in time to know that the Today Show is broadcasting live today from Paris! Apparently it is in honor of the Da Vinci Code, which opens here tomorrow.