by Thomas ’17
Water. Water everywhere. Pouring down from every angle. My hair grew damp under my soaked cotton hat. My socks became soggy beyond belief. The contents I was harboring in my backpack remained dry. The water rushed down the street, roaring. Anna P. remained surprisingly calm. Holdyn ran down the streets of Cuba in the pouring rain, screaming, “I can now say I have ran down the streets of Cuba in the pouring rain!” and in fact, he could. Jake led the way back to the church sporting a new haircut.
Earlier, Jake was not sporting a new haircut. This was not a coincidence, because it was cut, on purpose, also not a coincidence. Sydney, Jake, Holdyn, Owen, Isaiah, and group leader Tom also had their hair cut, which was also not a coincidence. I have said “not a coincidence” three times now, which is also, not a coincidence. Ruben did not get his haircut, as he was the one doing the cutting of the hair. Neither did Selah, but she watched on, eagerly. The locks of my peers floated graciously on to the dirt below, however, my locks remained attached to my head dirtily, due to the strenuous manual labor completed prior.
Even earlier than my last “earlier”, we did some service. We strenuously raised the altitude of ninety-six corrugated metal sheets, transporting them from the ground to one floor above, while Brayden colored in a picture of TIMOTHY MOUSE, FROM DUMBO. Once all the sheets had achieved the ascent, so did the dirt. Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow was raised up towards the sky. A pesky squeak chirped out of the pulley. Setareh was nowhere to be found, as she was with Roxy, dishing it out with the Common App.
After the evening consumption of chicken and rice, a lively game of Ping-Pong broke out. Richard lost in a match against Jesus*, and Brayden ruled the table. Sydney and Anna C. sat on a roof and Owen is still tall.
*The unbelievably cute three-year-old toddler named Jesus (Pronounced Hay-ZEUS) with whom we have been playing and watching over.