May 14, 2007: 10:20 PM

So I've been home for two days now. I just finally downloaded some pictures from my phone so I can post them here, but I'll do them all in one post after I finish writing about the trip.

So when we last left off, I was about to complete my last day of work on the homes we had been working on. Friday at the homes, we continued to work on the patios. The site manager decided they needed to be raised about 6 inches to ensure that water drains properly, so we weren't able to finish them on my last day. I made everyone promise to write my initials in the cement border when they poured it on Saturday.

While we were there Friday, the ice cream man came. Ching Mae and I were walking down to the running water (a hose attached to the side of a house at the end of the block) so I could wash off my hand and examine the finger I had slammed between two concrete slabs. (It was ok, just banged up.) Down the road comes that familiar white truck, blasting the ice cream man music. I was just thrilled at this because: a. It was really hot and humid; b. Just the night before, I had been discussing the merits of screwballs with Paul. (Screwballs for ice cream truck illiterates are plastic cones filled with a creamy Italian Ice that contain a gumball at the bottom.); c. It meant something cold to put on my throbbing finger.

So we all bought ice cream and had a break. I got a red screwball (the best flavor) with a green gumball (the second-to-least favorite flavor). As we were eating, Ching Mae asked me how I knew that truck had ice cream for sale. Apparently, they don't have white trucks driving down the street blasting music and/or ringing a bell in Taiwan, or at least if they do, ice cream doesn't come out of them. Chris and I then got off on a discussion of how in the summertime when we were kids, our moms would send us outside all day long to play in the neighborhood and if the ice cream man came, you had to run back to the house to get money as fast as you could, because the ice cream man wouldn't stop for kids unless you were waving money at him or had an adult with you. So you got to know how loud the bell/song was when it was a block away, so you could book it back to your house as fast as possible and try to weasel a buck out of your mom. Ah, those were the days.

At lunchtime, a truck of Episcopals came and gave us free lunches, which were much better than the lunches provided by the Baptists. The Baptist lunches, while served on monk bread, contained one very thin slice of turkey or ham, and one slice of velveeta-like orange cheese that melted in the hot sun all morning. The Episcopalians sprang for a few slices of meat per sandwich, and they were thick slices, even. The cheese was still the same, however. Oh, well. At least it didn't melt in the sun all morning. Also we got lemonade, the kind you make with powder and cold water. It was yet another thing that reminded me of summer camp, a glass of overly sweet lemonade full of powdery slush at the bottom. Don't get me wrong, it was a good thing. I forgot how much I loved that overly sweet powdery slush.

That night, most of us rented rooms at a hotel so we could stay out past curfew, since it was my last night in New Orleans. Three of us started out walking Bourbon Street sipping on beers, then met up with some others at a daiquiri bar. From there we headed over to a bar with a mechanical bull and pool tables. We shot some pool and bought tickets to ride the bull. Only Shane actually rode, though. We got bored of that place and moved on to the Cat's Meow, a karaoke bar. After hanging out there for a few hours, we made our way back to the hotel, which had a courtyard with a pool. Some of us went swimming in the pool before bed.

Next morning, I went to the airport, got on the plane, and slept all the way to Hartford.

The end.

P.S. Stay tuned tomorrow for the pics!