shannonmhitchcock@gmail.com

Hey all,

A pretty traumatic event occurred and I want to share it with my readers because it definitely has impacted me, the other interns, and my overall time spent in Mobile.  But, due to it's severity I don't feel comfortable sharing it with the world wide web so please email me personally and I will gladly email it to you without a problem.  I do feel that it was unfortunately life changing enough to share and would appreciate your interest and care to read it, so please don't hesitate.

Thanks much & miss you all.

Lots of love,

Shannon

The things that make you stronger

I wrote this last Thursday, but still needed to cool down and recuperate from it (and finish writing the post) before I posted it… so here it is:

I know this is really long, but please read it.

Today was difficult.

This internship has shown me things that I would never wish on my worst enemy.  I know that makes me sound like a martyr and I’m not trying to come off that way at all, so if I am I apologize.  I also don’t want to come off as a complainer because that’s not my intention either.  I’m using this blog to document my internship, and unfortunately the bad things happen more often than the good.  You’ll see me write about the perfectly sweet and innocent moments that I’ve experienced—an honestly I cherish those.  Because when bad days, like today, occur—it’s those sweet moments that remind me that things will be okay.

Today, a team of interns was sent to a site to administer a mass quantity of surveys.  This was my third day at the site so I was pretty confident in my capabilities of handling the parents and children so I volunteered to run the check-in table.  This position entails checking in each child on the master list.  The master list has every single person that has taken the survey as well as those who have not taken the survey.  It was my job to get a name—check the list… and if the name was on the list—check the other information (middle name, address, birthdate).  We do this to make sure: 1. the child has not already taken the survey (scamming us out of extra $$), 2. that this is the correct child by checking the other information (again scamming us by stealing some other kid’s information) and most importantly 3. that the child has consent.  If the child’s name is not on the list we tell them that they have to come back with a parent or primary guardian to get consent to take the survey.  So, this job is a little strenuous when children try to scam us or when parents get angry because they have to come in to give their child permission.  But, I’ve done it before so I wasn’t worried. 

The site we were running the surveys at is a women’s shelter as well as a community center.  We check the children in downstairs in the community center/office area and the surveys are administered upstairs in the bedrooms.  I know that sounds a little strange, but when a place allows you to administer surveys for free you kind of have to work with what they’ve got.  So we’re all set up and ready to start checking people in when an older man under some influence comes into the center screaming.  This is a woman’s shelter, but the workers here do allow men to come in and use the bathroom or drink from the water fountain.  Every man I’ve seen has been polite, grateful, and charming.  They appreciate the fact that the center lets them come in and even some of the men are welcomed to use the phone and even join in on watching The Price is Right—why because they’re appreciative and well-behaved.  But, this man was known by the center for not being well-behaved and I got to experience that.  He came in swearing and slamming doors.  The secretaries asked him to leave right off the bat but then he started screaming about the oppression her felt from everyone in sight.  Then he asked to use the phone but then ran into the bathroom and slammed everything in the bathroom.  He was obviously drunk and it was 10am, but it was just honestly scary.  It was especially scary because I was right next to the men’s bathroom and I was in the hallway where he decided to throw his fit.  While he was continually and continually being asked to leave by the staff a fellow intern and I just stared.  He yelled and yelled more.  He finally slammed the door and left.  We were really shaken up by this point and we hadn’t even started our administration yet.  At this point I was just mad.  I know it’s not fair that this man has problems and I don’t know him well enough to judge the situation that just occurred.

So check-in was running pretty smoothly.  We consented new people and got other returning participants in to take the survey.  But, one thing that really makes me mad about consenting the participants is that parents lie.  Parents lie about their child’s age, their relationship to the child, and even if the child has ever taken the survey before.  Kids lie, but it’s expected—the fact that they’re children doesn’t make it okay but we can understand it better.  But, grown adults who lie in front of their children right to our faces is absolutely not acceptable.  It makes the kids think it’s okay to lie and it’s just awful.  We deal with this all of the time.  It’s frustrating and it really makes you feel cheated.  This will come into play later.

So the day’s weather went south pretty fast and a horrible thunder and lightening storm came through.  We thought that this would either make our survey site completely dead or that it would be ridiculously busy.  Dead because people wouldn’t want to trek through the weather to get here.  Busy because the parents/family members waiting for their children to be done would wait inside and cause congestion… everywhere.  The latter is of course what happened.  Allowing people to stay in the community center while it’s storming is not a problem at all.  It just makes things chaotic.  The children who have already taken the survey try to sneak back into new survey administrations and run around like crazy.  It’s difficult.  Today made this even more difficult because the community center was running a senior citizen arts and crafts project in the middle of our survey ‘holding center’ (for the children signed in and waiting to be put in a group for survey administration).  These three young girls came up to the check-in table wanting to sign in.  One of them gave all of the correct information so we let her in.  The second one stumbled over her name, how to spell it, gave a wrong middle name and birthday, and took forever to tell us her address.  These are all telltale signs that the child is trying to scam us.  I told her that I thought she was lying about who she was and she gave me attitude and argued that just because she was ‘slow’ that I shouldn’t judge her for not knowing how to spell her name.  Meanwhile, her friends are all giggling behind her.  So, I told her that she would not be taking the survey today and that she could call our office if she had problems. 

The next girl was on our list, but already took the survey.  I told her that she took it two days ago and she said that wasn’t possible.  I shouldn’t have—but I gave her the benefit of the doubt and called the office to verify.  It was a waste of time so I told her she wouldn’t be taking the survey either.  They were obviously bummed, but didn’t seem too upset and ran back outside to play in the rain.  About twenty minutes later I find the two of them back in line.  I told them that I recognized them and that they still couldn’t take the survey and they laughed and ran away.  I let them stay inside because it was pouring, but twenty minutes later they started acting horrible.  They asked to use the phone and I was fine with that because I was hoping it would get them out of there asap.  It didn’t.  And they started acting worse.  The office staff was annoyed with them too, so I told the girls that they had to leave the premises because it was private property.  They gave me attitude but left.  Yes it was still raining but there was an awning and they just called their mom who was on her way.  The office staff thanked me and I didn’t think it was a problem because the girls were playing in the rain earlier.

That’s until the mother got to the site… running in, slamming the door, and screaming about some bitch who wouldn’t let her daughters stay inside in this storm.  I knew she was referring to me so I confronted her because I didn’t want anyone else to take the blame.  I told the mother the story—that her daughters lied, acted awful, caused chaos, and were really rude to the staff.  The mother didn’t like my answer so a staff member stepped in and told the mother to look around and realize that every other child was behaving and that her daughters were absolutely not.  This verbal yelling from the mother went on for a while and I’ve never felt so small.  I didn’t raise my voice, I listened to her, and I didn’t fight back.  There was no use and it wasn’t going to change her mind about how much I didn’t know about how to treat people.  The staff finally got her out and then the waiting parents and staff members made sure I was okay and told me that the lady was crazy and not to take it personal.  It’s hard to not take things personal, but I really couldn’t let it get to me.  The other parents were honestly appreciative that those girls and the mother left because they were disturbing their peace and quiet.  I was just really mad and a little upset.  Especially when the mother called me out on “not understanding her situation in life,” insinuating that I was “too privileged” to relate to people in “her state” in life.  I just felt really judged and belittled. 

It was only 2pm.  The storm continued and we lost power—if you could imagine three groups of ten children each being in creepy bedrooms in the absolute dark.  Thank God the lights came back on pretty quickly. 

After a younger group of children finished the survey and were let out a little boy came up to the office crying.  He was being ushered into the office by a staff member so I went up to his sister to ask what was wrong.  She told me that someone stole their money.  Who would steal two 10 year olds money?  I asked her to tell me exactly what happened and she said that before her uncle brought them to the survey he planned on taken $5 from each of them for signing them up.  I remembered her uncle—who evidently lied to us about being the children’s caregiver.  This was an extensive lie because he went on and on about how the children live with him full time and how he was their only parental figure in their lives.  I really hate when adults (he had to be in his 30’s) lie.  It’s just so wrong.  So we told the little boy to call his mom and that we weren’t letting them go home with the uncle.  Then the uncle comes in and he was furious.  He yelled at the little boy and then grabbed his arm, shook him up, and vigorously escorted the two kids out.  I’ve never witnessed a child being roughed up by an adult and honestly I don’t ever want to witness that again.  After that we were all shocked and really didn’t know what to do.  We didn’t witness the uncle “hit” the child so we couldn’t report it, and even if we did report it child services would have most likely thrown it out.  It’s just so sad.  What’s even sadder is that the grandmother showed up to the center just as the uncle and the kids were leaving and the kids refused to go with their grandmother because they were too afraid of what their uncle might have done to them if they did. 

MLK

The majority of my rest of week two was spent at Bishop State CC, which served as the surveying site for the MLK neighborhood.  I spent my Tues-Thurs here signing in participants, consenting new ones, and administering the survey.  Administering the survey to a larger group is definitely different from in-home surveys.  You have the participants who goof off because they're with their friends or giggle at the sex questions.  But, I really had easy groups that really cooperated with me throughout the 408 question survey.  

If participants are noticeably falling behind on keeping up with my reading and the group's speed we pull them out and do a one-on-one survey.  Even when the survey is only supposed to take 1.5 hours (these can run up to 2+ hours) I really like administering these.  Spending one-on-one time with a child is pretty rewarding.  A particular 1-on-1 survey that I read was for a 10 year old girl on Friday.  We were at a different surveying site at a church in Whistler.  We could tell that this girl was going to be a sweetheart the second she was signed up by her mom.  One of the questions we are required to ask for new participants is their relationship with the person signing them up (parent, guardian, caregiver).  This is to ensure that the consenter is truly the child's primary guardian/caregiver.  This little girl came in with her mother and we asked the little girl what her relationship with the woman was.  She looked really confused, so we asked is this your mother or aunt, etc.  The little girl answered back with, "... uhm she's my bestest friend..."  So cute.  After prodding a little longer we finally got the answer we needed out of her-- that the woman was indeed her mother.  After signing her up and getting consent we placed the little girl in an older group because that was the next group being tested.  So we knew from the start that we would probably have to pull her out, but sometimes the younger participants surprise you and can really keep up.

So when she was pulled out, I started the 1-on-1 survey with her.  Throughout the survey she would interrupt me with... "Can I ask you a question?"  She was so sweet.  With her first interruption she told me that her sister felt really bad about something and she wanted to talk about it with me. I was a little nervous about this at first because I had no idea what she would be telling me, but it was super sweet.  She told me that this morning her sister spilt her juice.  And that her sister didn't want to tell her mother because she was afraid that she would get in trouble.  But she talked her sister into telling her mother and her mother wasn't upset.  Her mother wasn't mad, she understood that mistakes happen.  But the girl's sister still felt really guilty about wasting the juice.  We talked about it for awhile.  It was so innocent and sweet.  After we got through the survive, about 2 hours later, I asked her what she would be doing with her $15.  She said she was going to split it with her younger sister who wasn't old enough to take the survey.  And that she would spend her half on her godson.  Nothing for herself.  When i asked her why she wasn't going to spend anything on herself she explained that giving it to her sister and godson would make her happy.  What a sweetheart. 

A rough Monday

So today was rough.  First of all, my roommate and I are having a bit of an ant problem... and they bite.  So that didn't start our day off very well.

So my partner, Aimee, and I had 4 scheduled in-home surveys to conduct today.  So we had to check out the $$ and have everything ready on Friday because our first survey was at 9:30am so going into the office at 9 was pointless.  So, our first family was actually approached last week when we were recruiting and informed us that they were packing up and moving that day.  After asking for a change of address for their new location the mother informed us that she honestly didn't know where they would end up.  It was so difficult to hear that.  They were obviously losing their house and had nowhere to go.  Surprisingly, the mother called a few days later to give us a new location and to set up an in-home survey.  So, that was our first stop of the day.

Doing the first survey was disheartening.  The children were evidently not up to par with other children their age in educational standards.  It was our first glance into the failure of the education system in a severely low-income neighborhood.  I felt so helpless.  For the second survey site, we surveyed in a house run by teenagers.  These children were raising themselves by themselves and doing the best they could.  It was really depressing.  The third and fourth survey sites were pretty typical.  But after visiting four households and surveying 9 participants my partner and I were absolutely drained.

My boss, the program director, told us the first day of training that after a week in the field we would have more experience and a greater understanding of poverty in the US than some of the top researchers in the field.  He was right.

New Orleans

We're only two and a half hours from New Orleans.  So on Saturday morning 8 of us took off for a weekend trip.  We stayed in a hostel--The India House-- off of Canal Street.  It was a little further away from the French Quarters and Bourbon street, but it was only $17/person a night-- which is awesome!  Me and three other girl interns split a 4 person room which was pretty nice.  It had two bunk beds and it's own private bathroom/shower.  The hostel was decorated so awesomely.  If you're friends with me on Facebook check out the pictures.  It was my first time in a hostel and I was thoroughly impressed.  I highly recommend the India House-- just remember your student ID!

So after we tried to check into the hostel (we were too early and turned away awkwardly ha) we decided to head to the French Quarters for lunch.  After driving around forever to find parking we settled for Cafe Amele.  It was so beautiful there.  We then met up with the other interns who left in the earlier car at Cafe Dumont (best frozen cafe au lait-- you have to get it)!  We then decided to head out to this house destroyed by Katrina which was turned into a giant chalk board for people to express their "before I die..." wishes.  We of course got distracted by everything on the streets-- stores, flea markets, etc... so we put off visiting the house until tomorrow.  The flea market was amazing.  Masks, voo doo dolls, authentic New Orleans all for CHEAP!  We had to be in that flea market for at least an hour... I felt bad for our only guy Kenny haha.  I bought a voo doo doll so don't piss me off! ;)  We walked around some more, listened to some street bands, and got harassed by 'live statues' until we decided that we should probably officially go check into the hostel and get ready to hit up Bourbon Street.

Where we were staying we could see some Katrina damage.  It was really depressing.  The damage made the houses look rundown and uninhabitable, but it was still really different from the homes/public housing facilities that I've been visiting in Mobile.  In New Orleans you could tell that the homes were damaged by a natural disaster, boarded up, and vacant.  But in Mobile the homes aren't damaged from a  natural disaster... they're cheaply made, worn out, over-crowded, and poorly kept.  And the people living in them can't afford anything better so they stay-- even if they're uninhabitable (there are no other options).  It's not an easy feeling to know that I'm able to categorize different types of 'poor' and different types of low incoming housing facilities.  But, I like that I'm becoming more understanding.

We got dinner and then decided it was time to do Bourbon Street.  Little kids were throwing beads off the balconies-- which made accepting them a lot less trashy haha.  Then we got the signature grenade drinks, which had mixed reviews-- I thought they were good.  It's a little unsettling that they don't/won't tell you what's in them (or how much alcohol for that matter... especially for public health students who mildly tore the bartenders apart haha).  We then all stumbled upon these street break dancers.  One of the interns, Kenny, is a break dancer who actually is pretty professionally known at Villanova for it.  We kind of egged him, but it didn't take much, to showcase his moves.  The break dancers were so nice and let him do it, he was amazing!  It was so awesome because later on in the night (hours later) he got stopped on the street and congratulated on how good he was-- he had fans, so cool!  We bar hopped and band hopped and had so much fun dancing to 80's rock and ending our night on a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street.  After, we took the street car back to our hostel and called it a night.

In the morning we decided to head to that house I mentioned earlier-- the one destroyed by Katrina and turned into a chalkboard.  The cars went separately, so me and three other interns visited the house and it was unbelievable.  All of the 'Before I die..' chalk writing we're overwhelming and made you want to read them.  Some of them were silly, while others were really touching.  We all took turns adding to the chalk board.  Before I die... I want to make a difference for those who need it.

Future

So I went into my boss's office today to ask a question and he sat me down.  He's heard me talking about my interests in public health and that I might be considering going to graduate school for public health.  He discussed my recent graduation from Penn State, my majors, and my research experience and really didn't see me liking public health.  In the nicest way possible he told me that I would be pretty disappointed with a public health degree and that I shouldn't limit myself to one program type.  After asking me about my hopes and dreams and where I see myself in the future and what I aim to do as a person he reflected on them.  I've always wanted to help design, implement, and evaluate interventions regarding a public health topic for children.  He explained to me that public health degrees get you to focus on one sole problem-- obesity, alcohol, cancer, etc.  And that public health degrees serve as an end-all... that most people in public health programs are getting the degree to get a certain job (like you can't have this job until you get this degree-- so you go back to school to get it, and then you get your job).  And honestly what he was saying was true.  It's a very limiting degree, especially at the master's level.  And most professionals in public health are implementing already-developed empirical programs. They're not designing their own.  He encouraged me to look into different programs like developmental psych or human development where I could get a Ph D and then work in public health departments, educational psych departments, or medical colleges to work with other professionals on developing intervention strategies for children based on their needs, which is exactly what I want to do.

As this discussion went on and on I was really appreciative.  This man is in charge of such a life-changing and painstakingly long study.  He is so kind, compassionate, and honest.  He has 35 interns and knows all about my past research, educational experiences, and hopes and dreams-- and I've known him for a week.  He took time out of his day (and my time away from finishing up some tasks-- while he was still paying me) to sit me down and get me thinking about my future.  I don't like talking about my future because I'm still unsure how to get there.  But having someone-- who has been through a PhD program and has seen many grad students come and go-- sit me down and discuss my options was really touching.

The fact that he felt that I had potential made me feel really important.  He wanted to continue our conversation later, but assured me that if August rolled around and I was still unsure of what I'd be doing in the fall that there was always a spot for me in the University of Alabama's Human Development grad program.  That's probably when my jaw dropped, "if you change your mind... it'd be no problem at all... I could get you into the program the day before class starts... just let me know."

Wednesdays

On Wednesdays we have debriefing meetings.  We use this time to go over things that can be improved, that we may not be doing correctly, but most importantly we use this time to talk or vent about our experiences so far.  It's really nice to have these meetings because the interns aren't always working in the same neighborhoods so it's interesting to hear about the different experiences that go on.  My roommate and another girl have been working in Prichard by themselves.  This is a very scary and desolate area.  The city has gone bankrupt for the second time and the police force is known for being corrupt.  Arson, rapes, and homicides occur daily in this neighborhood.  Some streets are completely vacant and abandoned.  People don't walk around frequently so it's almost like a rundown ghost town.  These two girls have been working in this area by themselves and have been pretty terrified the entire time.  They do run into some nice household who invite them in, but they are always being hassled and/or warned about their presence in the neighborhood.

Another girl, who was actually my partner on Tuesday, was told not to speak in one of the neighborhoods that I was in (MLK).  As she is white, she was told that she should be seen and not heard unless she was spoken to and that people would feel threatened by her presence and that it would probably be safer for her to not stay in the neighborhood.

We do get thanked by the families 'for making a difference' or asked what their child's participation does and it's definitely a tough question.  Some people view our presence in the neighborhoods as if we were Crusaders trying to rid the world of problems, but that's really not our intention.  They think we want to be in the neighborhood to get the experience of a different lifestyle... but then after we get our experience we go right back to our privileged lives and talk about how changed we have become when we really haven't made any change for them and we leave them and their neighborhood in the same state before our presence.  This makes sense.  How would you feel if people kept coming into your neighborhood to get a 'life-altering experience,' they are changed by it, and then peace out?  Imagine if this happened often, you would feel used too.  And that's how a lot of them totally feel.  This instance was discussed pretty thoroughly in our debriefing today and our boss/director explained our purpose the best.  We're here to make the children feel that they are a part of something, part of a change-- that they can make a difference.  We do use the data (13 years and ongoing) to study the true problems in the neighborhoods to better provide programs to alleviate these problems.  We want to limit the risk factors that lead the youth in these low-income neighborhoods into futures involving incarceration, poor health, and even death.  Giving the children something to be a part of year after year provides them with a purpose.  Most of these children have nothing.  They don't have t-ball practice on Tuesdays and violin lessons on Thursdays.  A majority of the kids don't even know their birthdays-- why-- because what do you remember about your birthday?  Presents and birthday parties... these children don't get those.  Most of them have never had a birthday party--- so why would remembering the date be important?  Providing them with a purpose and with the important role as a participant year after year allows them to indirectly have a voice that many of these children usually don't get.  This discussion really hit home and even brought an intern to tears.  It's the little things that make all the difference.

Week 1

Hey all.  So our first week in the neighborhoods of Mobile and Prichard started this Monday.  We were divided up into partners and sent out into the neighborhoods to recruit participants.  It was my partner's first day and she wasn't able to get trained until the next day so I was really nervous about showing her the ropes.  That really put a lot of pressure on me because I definitely had to be on my game and not mess up while still making sure that I was completely aware of my surroundings and staying away from dangerous situations or things that made us feel uneasy.  Being aware of your surroundings and what is going on around you is the best advice we received when walking around these neighborhoods.  They're not neighborhoods where you see kids running through sprinklers, riding bikes, or anyone electing to walk around without a purpose.  They're the kind of neighborhoods where most of the people hang around in their homes because being out isn't safe.  So when anyone saw the two of us white girls on the street they asked us why we were here and told us it wasn't safe and that we should probably leave.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened that day.  Monday really did serve as a glimpse into our future in this heat though.  It's unbearable.  Walking door to door in the hot and humid Alabama summer is really more difficult that I ever thought it would be.  I am literally drenched in sweat from the moment I step outside until I get back to the office.  And it's not even the 'oh I'm sweaty' feeling, it's the feeling when you leave the gym or an exercise class after sweating the whole time and you have sweat dripping everywhere... but imagine that in 100+ degree weather and not just for a moment until you cool off or take a shower... but from 9am-5pm.  It's an experience.  And I'm not complaining.  I'm honestly getting acclimated to it, but I just have never experienced it before.  My partner on Tuesday actually got heat exhaustion and started really not feeling very well-- and she's from North Carolina.  Even people that are from the South have never experienced such intense heat and humidity before.

Tuesday was a little more interesting.  We were out recruiting again in the same neighborhood.  I had a different partner, but still the same addresses that I didn't get to the day before.  Some houses that we knock on are home to the nicest people in the entire world.  They're the kind of people that would literally give you the shirt off their back.  They welcome us in and give us water or a cold drink.  Multiple families have sat us down in their best chair and will move the fan facing us so that we feel comfortable.  They seriously go way out of their way.  It's just an absolute awesome feeling-- these families literally have close to nothing and go out of their way to show kindness to us and share their resources with us, and we're complete strangers.  It's just something that doesn't happen often and I really am appreciating it.

We do meet some interesting people walking around the streets.  These neighborhoods do have increased rates of violence and drug and alcohol abuse, so meeting people under the influence isn't out of the ordinary.  A group of us were yelled and screamed at by this lady down the street who had supposedly been following the other members in our group all day.  She was definitely intoxicated and/or under the influence of some sort of drug.  She wanted to sign her kids up, but the other members of the neighborhood kept telling us that she didn't have any kids and that she was crazy.  She kept telling us that she lived in that house... but the house she pointed to changed every time.  She looked really disheveled with tight jeans on over men's gym shorts and a t-shirt on backwards.  It was just really sad, but at the same time made us really feel uneasy.  The other group had to deal with her the rest of the day.   Being followed can get really scary and uncomfortable.

Today was the first time I really felt uncomfortable.  Me and two other girls were recruiting and revisiting houses in a fairly rundown public housing neighborhood.  There was garbage everywhere, half of the housing units were vacant and boarded up, and it just didn't seem very welcoming.  It was definitely the most rundown neighborhood I've seen.  We noticed a large group of men in their twenties hanging out on a porch down the street that we had to go on... and I was just thinking to myself that I really hope that's not the house we have to go to.  Of course it was.  The men were fairly friendly, but there was a car in front of the house that was idle, black, and had tinted windows.  I could see that there were guys in it and one man on the porch kept going back and forth to the car and the porch.  I don't know what he was doing, but it seemed really sketchy and made me feel really uneasy.  I'm pretty sure the guys were all smoking weed and I couldn't tell if that car was selling them drugs but it really seemed that that was the case.  I was just really uncomfortable because the people in the car could see me, but I couldn't see them and there were 3 white girls among 10 men from the hood.  One of the interns was asked to come inside to get a consent form and she asked me if I wanted to come with her.  I didn't want to leave the other intern outside alone with the men and I also didn't want all of us to go inside because that really didn't seem like a smart idea either.  I don't know what the best decision would have been, but I stayed outside with the other intern and then the 3 of us booked it as fast as we could as soon as we could.  It was the first time I really wasn't comfortable being in a neighborhood.

Working in these neighborhoods is beyond a reality check.  These  people don't want a pity party and don't want to be a charity case.  They want respect and I really do respect them.  Growing up in these neighborhoods is difficult and the challenges that these people face day to day we take for granted.  We worry about stupid things while 10 year olds have to worry about things that hopefully we will never have to.  But, just because these people live in rundown neighborhoods or public housing units doesn't mean they're awful.  Most of them are beyond amazing.  They have manners.  They are hospitable. And they genuinely care about us and our wellbeing.  It's just absolutely amazing.  Just think about how many times you walk by someone on the street and not say 'hi.'  That doesn't happen down here... everyone says hi and asks how your day is and sometimes they'll get into an extended conversation with you... and they're strangers.  Sometimes you just don't notice how backwards your way of life and thinking are until you get a reality check from the people who sometimes are looked at in the public's eye as negative or less well-off.  But really we're all pretty poor in different areas that they are more richer in than we may ever be.  That's all from 3 days of work so far, I can't wait to see what 7 weeks will bring.