My Favorite Recipe of 2010—Corn Chowder

Family Friendly Meals Series, Day 10
My sister Lisa is a phenomenal cook. This is her corn chowder recipe, adapted a bit because of my husband's high cholesterol. While not much to look at (these photos do NOT do it justice in any way), this soup is absolutely delicious.

Ingredients
½ pound bacon (cut into inch size pieces, I use my kitchen scissors)

3 cans cream of chicken soup
3 cans of 1% milk

1 small sour cream

20 oz frozen corn 

12 new potatoes, peeled and diced bite size pieces

Pepper and powdered garlic to taste

Step-by-Step Instructions
1. Cook bacon in large soup pot until just about done. Open one of your soup cans and put contents in a small bowl so you have an empty soup can to drain the excess bacon grease. Add soup, 2 cans of milk, sour cream, corn and powdered garlic. Before you add the potatoes, the soup mixture looks like this:

In a separate pot, boil potatoes for about 15-20 mins (I do this while the bacon is cooking). Drain the water and add it to the soup mixture. At this point, I move the whole mixture to my slow cooker and heat it on low for about an hour, though it can stay in the crock pot longer. If you don't have a crock pot, you can simmer the mixture on the stove top on low. Be careful not to have the heat too high; the milk will burn. Stir often. If you are using the stove top method, keep the cover on but leave a little room for steam to come out. If not, it may become too watery. Simmer the mixture for about 1/2 an hour.

Notes: Add some or all of the third can of milk until your chowder is the desired thickness. The original recipe calls for whole milk and a large container of sour cream.

Blogiversary Reflection

One year ago, I set a few New Year challenges for myself: try to take a photo every day, and try to write more for pleasure (I write almost every day for my job). My vehicle for sharing was this blog. With chagrin I report that my photo challenge lasted less than a month. However, today is my blogiversary...I have lasted a year with writing routinely and sharing it publicly (50 posts in total). Given that there are so many unfinished projects around my house, I consider this a huge success.

In addition to this accomplishment, 2010 held some very nice surprises. Chief among them was our family's service trip to the Dominican Republic (which I blogged about excessively). While I was chaperoning the trip for my employer (Watkinson School), for sure the highlight of the trip was that all four Frenches got to do this together. 2010 was also the first (and potentially only) time my boys got to be teammates, with Paul as one of the coaches. For two kids who can barely get along when they are just sitting next to each other on the couch, it was a pleasure to see them work side by side, both in La Romana and on the baseball field.

2010 also signaled the end of Turner's little league career. After hundreds and hundreds of outings to the Yalesville Little League fields, it was very bittersweet to see his commitment climax with the 12-year old all-stars championship game at the Giamatti Little League Complex, with Turner on the mound, with a loss to Farmington. Ironically, the parents cried...Turner was totally fine. He was happy just to have had the chance.

2010 also included an invitation for Hayden to join the STEP program at his school. While not a big deal in and of itself, it heralded a new way of thinking for Hayden. He now pursues much more clever and adventurous projects at home (wordles, homemade ugly dolls, and as I write this is in the midst of making a sock creature).

While I have yet to set any goals for 2011 yet (as I rarely do anything the same way twice!) I have thought about the year ahead: Turner will start high school, Hayden will start middle school, Paul will turn 50. These are big milestones. I am eager for it all.

Thank You Abby Hurlburt!

Got a really sweet email from Turner's third and fourth grade teacher. She sent me the poem below and reminded me that "Turner's always been talented." What a sweet, small gift during this incredibly hectic time of year. I was deeply moved.

The First Snowfall
Silent snow drifting across the winter wonderland
Racing outside to a soft blanket of snow
Trudging uphill with my sled
Zipping down the crystal clear hills
Laughing and having fun

by Turner French, 2008

Friday in the Barrio

Dominican Republic Trip Nov. 2010—Journal Entry No. 7
Friday was our last workday and it was a bit different. We worked at Barrio Pico Piedra, the home of one of our translators, Jean Robert. While a significantly more urban setting than the bateys, it was also more spacious as we worked in a church that was three times the size of the buildings we used on our previous days. The accommodations felt luxurious in comparison. The bigger space and more crowded setting also meant we treated more patients; 115 in one day. While on previous days we did door-to-door food distribution, today we handed out food only to patients who came to the clinic, giving them a bag as they exited the building. The people also seemed a bit more well off as everyone had shoes. But alas, everything is relative! At about 11 a.m. a 16-year-old mom named Hermani came in with a 6 lb, 7-month-old baby boy named Jordan. It was the most tragic situation I have ever seen.

At the clinic, it was impossible to assess the extent of the baby’s problems. He was clearly dehydrated, and he was so severely malnourished that he looked like a skeleton with skin. Beyond that, the medical professionals couldn’t tell. All agreed that the best course of action was to take Hermani and Jordan to the Good Sam immediately. Fortunately, Kristy had her truck so that was doable without having to strand the team at the barrio. Kristy asked me to join her in order to let the hospital and the mom know that there was some semblance of financial backing for the baby’s needs. On route to the hospital, we learned that the family had no food, clothes or money. The baby hadn’t had any milk for 2 days and prior to that the frequency of access to milk was very spotty. We learned what street Hermani lives on but that her house has no number, which may make it hard for health care providers to find her and do any follow up care. A month ago, Hermani had taken Jordan to the public health hospital and had received minimal care there and was sent home….an unfathomable fact given that it would have taken months for Jordan to deteriorate to the extent he had. As we drove to the hospital, I once again had the burden of trying to determine what kind of funds our team was being asked to provide. I was silently praying that I wouldn’t have to be the one to fail this family by not having the resources they needed. I asked Kristy for a ballpark figure for what a day in the hospital would cost: $50. Then I asked for a best guesstimate for how long the baby would have to be there: at least a week. Finally I asked to a prognosis: bleak. When we got to the ER, the doctors said his veins are so collapsed that they will have to start with oral rehydration before they can put in an IV. The good news is that as of the day we departed, we learned that Juley tested negative for both HIV and Hepatitis. Plus they were able to get an IV in his heel and start hydrating him that way. The sad news is that the baby’s hemoglobin is 6; the lowest you want for a baby is 11. This means that Jordan needs a blood transfusion, which can’t happen til he’s hydrated and they can get a bigger needle in his veins, and it means he will most likely have brain damage. The most beautiful part of the story is that despite Hermani being a teenage, single mom, she adores her son. We have that in common. I got to help her prepare a bottle. I sang to Jordan while I held him so Hermani could take care of some necessary steps of the admission process. His tiny body made my palm feel huge. The rest of the afternoon at the hospital was a bit of a blur and I eventually left the doctors to their work, met up with the team and we went off to the beach.

Our second trip to the beach was as glorious as the first. A more leisurely endeavor, this trip included dinner on the beach—scrumptious fried chicken packed by our hosts. I could tell that everyone was starting the process of peeling away from La Romana. Already people were starting to say sentences like, “Next year when we come…” In addition to swimming and eating, we took a team photo. All of the kids—age 10 to age 18—played a huge game of pickle. It was sweet to see the kids who had been doing the jobs of grown ups all week return to being kids.

When we returned to Casa Pastorale, our hosts had a celebration waiting for us. Musicians from the church played dance-worthy Dominican praise songs and got all of us gringos grooving like we knew how! We ended our evening with cake and a sharing time with Kristy. The women’s dorm was quiet as we all headed to bed. There was lots of practical conversation about how we were going to get the 140 lbs of coffee we bought home, where we should leave the shoes and clothes we were donating to the mission, and how much we should tip our hosts. But throughout it all, there was a tenor of sadness at the prospect of leaving. As much as I missed my extended family and friends, I wasn’t ready to give up the feelings that the work in La Romana had awakened in me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Dominican Republic Trip Nov. 2011–Journal Entry No. 6
Thursday was special, no doubt. What a gift to celebrate Thanksgiving with the poor. The day provided numerous opportunities to reflect on the good gifts in our lives. Despite the fact that our hosts don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, many gave us “Happy Thanksgiving” greetings first thing in the morning. We headed out early and went to Batey Lagina. While Lagina wasn’t as dirty as Plumita, there was a similar aggressive vibe amongst the adults, especially later in the day. The medical clinic went smoothly; we treated 88 patients. This was the day where we could have used 10 times more shoes than we had with us. It was also our first day working alongside pediatric nurse practitioner Kristy Engel, a dear friend who has been working full-time at this mission for 10 years.

On a day we associate with an abundance of food in the U.S., we faced one of our hardest challenges: we ran out of food during food distribution. It was a gut wrenching moment where we had to defer to our translators on how to handle it. Emilio immediately shifted gears and started directing us to houses where the elderly and moms with many, many children were. While the team did lots of talking about this moment in the bus on the way back to the city, and the young people tried to shift the blame for the situation to our hosts for not telling us accurate numbers of residents, in the end the reasons and blame were irrelevant. The bottom line was that some got food and some didn’t and it was a really awful feeling to be connected with that hard, cold fact. We still had bags of food to distribute at Casa Pastorale and had to rest assured in the fact that Emilio and his team would return to Lagina next week with more food.

After Lagina, we toured the Good Samaritan Hospital. It was impressive yet also humbling as we were given access to every nook and cranny, including the surgery rooms. It felt like a privilege we didn’t deserve.

One of the highlights of my week came next: a visit to an orphanage in La Romana. I met three very special girls: Madeline (12), Naomi (11) and Cynthia (6). Madeline was gorgeous and very cautious. She told Turner he looked like Justin Bieber and took his baseball cap and modeled it for me. She gave me her email address and made me promise to write. She asked me questions like how often I have to cut my hair, if I had daughters, if I was a good student, and when I’d come back. Madeline was also a patient teacher. She tried diligently to teach me a very complicated hand clapping game and never gave up on me, despite the fact that it took me numerous tries amidst endless laughter to get it right. When I succeeded, she hugged me fiercely. Naomi was startlingly smart. She showed me her computer lab, took me to her locker and proudly showed me her notebook, and gave me her email address along with a note telling me she loves me. Cynthia grabbed my hand no more than 10 seconds after I entered the gate. I wonder what made her pick me out of the crowd of nearly thirty that visited that day? She was energetic, giggly, tomboyish, and endlessly loving. A gifted gymnast, she tumbled, cartwheeled, and flipped for me making me applaud and squeal with delight. She rode on my back for hours while I galloped around the compound. And she walked the entire length of their basketball court on her hands. She wrenched my heart by asking me over and over again if I’d be her mom. Little did she know that she is exactly the sort of daughter I’d want. I will remember and pray for her for a very long time.

Thursday night, we took our hosts out for pizza in the city. It was crowded and chaotic, but totally worth mentioning because dinner for about 30 cost $190.

Wednesday: Hump Day

Dominican Republic Trip Nov. 2010, Journal Entry No. 5
Wednesday, our third work day, was when I expected team dynamics to break down a bit. I am thrilled to report that moment never came. We spent our day on Batey Plumita where we treated 72 patients. Unlike the first two we visited, Plumita was absolutely filthy and very crowded. Our hosts’ explanation for this is that there is a large voodoo element on this batey, an element that introduces crime, fear, aggressiveness, drugs, and likely much more. There was lots of pushing and shoving in line to enter the clinic. And the general vibe was less welcoming. However, we had a magical moment: an impromptu 50-person circle of Gato, Gato, Gato, Pero (the equivalent of American duck, duck, goose). With no instructions having been given, a Haitian child would naturally pick an American child and vice versa. Squeals of delight were ringing off the buildings of the batey!

Turner recorded weights at the door of the clinic on this day and he stayed focused until someone broke out the wiffle ball and bat, then he went and played ball and had a blast. Hayden worked at the de-worming station, marking the hands of patients who had received their parasite meds (a necessary precaution because people would get in line twice because it tastes so good, which would likely lead to nausea/vomiting). Paul was the “traffic” person, leading patients from station to station in the clinic. After all the play time, the kids settled down and many held our hands while we were distributing food. In the middle of the workday, a mom came in with a 12-pound, one-year-old boy named Luigi (shown in the bottom photo in the arms of my colleague Sandy). Our team’s lead translator, Emilio, tried diligently to get a straight story from the mom on why the baby was so skinny and what medical care the boy had received; she seemed very confused. Was he just malnourished? Was anemia a factor? Did he have an infection? In the end, Emilio and one of the Dominican doctor’s advocated that the best course of action was to bring the baby on the bus to be treated at the Good Samaritan Hospital. Emilio asked if our team would provide the necessary funds to make that happen. I paused to try to find a diplomatic and inoffensive way to ask exactly what that meant. I didn’t want to make a commitment with team funds that couldn’t be honored. Saying (in Spanglish), "What's it gonna cost me?" about another persons health care just felt icky. I don’t remember exactly what I asked to solicit the info that I needed, but I do remember the answer: $13. I am happy to report that as of the day we left, Luigi is doing very well.

After picking up the water filter team at the hospital, we made our first trip to the beach. Literally, all 23 of us walked onto the beach, plopped down our bags, walked into the ocean and stayed in the water for the next 90 minutes. We walked out of the water, toweled off, and left! It was awesome!

Wednesday night we did more food packing, assessed our med clinic supplies (we ran out of vitamins, eye drops, and lotrimin), and had a presentation from Andrea and Estella (two ladies who lead aspects of the mission involving education, family planning and services to retired workers). This was our opportunity for team members to ask numerous questions about the La Romana, the sugar cane industry, the government, the mission, and more. I was very proud of the students in the group; their questions were thoughtful and intelligent.

Tuesday at Guazabal

Dominican Republic Nov. 2010—Journal Entry #4
Tuesday the team divided into two groups—6 members headed to the hospital to build water filters and the rest of us went to Batey Guazabal for our second medical clinic. Our second day was significantly less chaotic since we all had a much better sense of the process, how to organize the space, and communicate essential phrases in Spanish (here—aquí, there—allá, I’m sorry—lo siento). One of my most special moments at Guazabal came when I looked out the window and I saw Hayden playing wiffle ball and frisbee in the rain with the boys from the batey. He was loving every minute of it. He made a special friend and they played for much of the rest of the day. The curious moment of the day came when I found a boy without shoes. I knew we had a bag of shoes with us so I went to find where they were stashed. They were tucked under a bench in the pharmacy area of the clinic. When I asked one of our hosts to pass me a pair of shoes for the boy in question, I was told that the ones that we had were too big and they wouldn’t give me shoes. I didn’t understand it, but didn’t dare challenge them. I didn’t want to be rude or too aggressive. I have regretted that choice ever since. It was a very smooth day; we treated 64 patients and distributed about 90 food kits. The residents were sweet and very hospitable to us. On the way back to Casa Pastoral, we picked up the water filter team that included Paul and Turner. They had a good day; Turner particularly enjoyed working alongside the Dominican men (T particularly enjoyed Benjamin) who work on water filters year round.

Tuesday night we went to a Toros baseball game. While it was fun, and very good baseball, I found my mind wandering to the work that was ahead for the next day and what preparations I needed to make. My leadership responsibilities kept me from fully enjoying the experience. Probably the most notable moments of this outing were not on the field: we got mobbed by vendors when we got off the bus and no one was prepared for that, and there was a 30 piece percussion section that was a pep squad that played incessantly and at deafening decibels.

Monday: Our First Work Day

D.R. Trip Nov. 2010—Journal Entry No. 3

Monday morning, we set out to work on Batey 50, likely the poorest batey in the La Romana region. It was the only day that the full team went to the same place. We were joined by Josh, John, and their film crew (Taylor and another John). Our goals for the day were to run a medical clinic (we saw 67 patients), distribute food to families and install several water filters. While we probably had more people than we needed for the work we set out to do, team members quickly adapted. Many simply went outside to play with the kids on this batey, some of the most loving kids we met all week. Four noteworthy moments from this day: first, this was when I realized that I would be in a facilitating or managing role for the week, doing very little direct work. Secondly,

Turner’s immediate response was that he wasn’t cut out for this place, yet in hindsight this was his favorite day—partly because he was so happy to be there with his cousin and uncle, but also because his job for the day was toy distribution (he gave out comfort dolls knit through his grandmother’s ministry). Third, the end of our day included a surprise birthday party for my brother-in-law, who has volunteered with this mission for two decades, including a clown, games, and a cake. The kids of the batey went crazy! It was one of the most joyful moments I have ever been part of. Lastly, this day had two intense emotional moments for me, one when I was completely alone walking down the main road overcome by God’s blessings to work out all the details of this trip juxtaposed by the extent of the problems on Batey 50, the

other when my big boy came to hug me at the end of the day and I held his very healthy body in my arms and I literally felt the full extent of my blessings.

Monday night we tried to go to Altos de Chavon. It didn’t work out for us to visit, so we opted for a trip to Jumbo and the team was introduced to the heaven that is known as a Magnum Bar. If you’ve never had one, you might want to travel to La Romana just for that!

My Sunday in La Romana

DR Trip Nov. 2010—Journal Entry #2
Our first trip on Sunday morning was out to Batey 205 to visit Pillar and Francisco, an elderly couple who live alone out in the middle of miles and miles of sugar cane. Their batey was displaced and they remained where they are because they have a cement house that will withstand hurricanes, has a door, and has a roof that doesn’t leak. Having met Pillar a year ago, I couldn’t wait for my friends from Watkinson and my family to meet her. If Pillar were born in the U.S in an earlier era, I can see her being a grand dame, or a matriarch. She is smart, incredibly emotionally generous, and profoundly faithful. While all 23 of us were welcomed into her home to visit, she chatted away en Espanol, while numerous members of the team snapped photos of her house, its surroundings, and most especially of her. With the benefit of our translator, we were able to communicate very effectively. Pillar found the youngest in the room, held their faces in her hands, and made a point of telling them how beautiful they are. Francisco was very quiet, mostly shooing away their very curious dog, until it was time for us to go and then he wanted to pray for us. The heart of his prayer was that despite the fact that the government has forgotten the poor, he was thanking God that the people in the room had not. Many were moved to tears.

Sunday afternoon was spent packing meds, nearly 2 hours of us meticulously counting, bagging, and labeling pain relievers, vitamins, blood pressure pills, and Tums. After which, some took a walk around the area, but I opted for a siesta. I was excited for the evening ahead. After dinner, we traveled to Kilometer 6, one of several very poor barrios (suburbs) around the city. Our destination was Beraca Baptist Church, a Haitian church led by Elsa Phanord, the widow of the mission’s founder. Despite the fact that the service was two-and-a-half hours long and in Créole, the faith of the very poor congregation was evident. The 40-person-strong choir was excellent, singing complex harmonies and complicated arrangements (quite frankly, the choir director blew away anything I’ve seen in the U.S. in quite some time). While numerous children came to join us in the pews, the highlights for me were getting to address the congregation on behalf of our group (what a privilege!) and watching as Hayden amassed a collection of about 7 boys who were practically sitting on top of each other to be able to sit with him and point and giggle silently together as the church service went on. Hayden handled it all with eagerness and charm. I was proud. After the offering was collected, people went crazy, dancing and singing at the top of their lungs. I couldn’t help but think about how churches in the U.S might be transformed if we learned to give so enthusiastically…doubly remarkable when they have so little, and we so much.