"Mom, what are you doing?" I hear Jayden's questioning voice below me.
"I'm coming Jayden, just wait there!"
I shift positions, but other then glimpses of the dusty rocky riverbed that's supposed to be our street, I can't see the tank.
"Hmm, what now?" I wonder.
"Mom!" Jayden interrupts my reverie and I turn around and climb down from my perch.
"Were you tricking me Mom?" He asks now. "No Jay," I laugh. I just wanted to get a picture of the tank!"
I look down at my pajama clad little boy with his messy bed hair and bare feet.
I'll get him changed in a minute, I decide, as I scoop him up and peer through a narrow opening where the gate meets our thick security wall.
The tank is still there. I walk to the opposite end of our gate and notice a half a dozen police officers and a UN vehicle on that end of the street. Better not try anything sneaky, I decide. I don't want them to think I'm spying!
If I want a picture of the tank now's my chance though! It's not every day we have one protecting our street!
Balancing Jayden on my hip, I ease open the gate and walk up the rutted street towards the tank. A soldier is sitting on a lawn chair and as I come closer I point to my camera and then at the tank. He nods and then stands up, posing with his gun. I guess I'd better have him in it too, I decide, not wanting to offend him.
I snap one picture and then walk closer to the tank.
I snap another picture and am just ready to turn around when I hear knocking on the tank window. A second later the door opens and four more soldiers spill out, guns and cameras in hand. Their uniforms proudly displaying the word 'Bangladesh'.
They smile and wave hello and once I've snapped some more pictures they beckon for me and Jayden to come stand with them.
Jayden, not terribly impressed with the whole paparazzi thing, turns his head as cameras get passed from hand to hand and pictures are snapped. A minute later my camera batteries go dead, so I thank the soldiers and say goodbye.
Walking the short distance to our house, I can't help but wonder about the almost daily increase in security. Now our tiny street sports a tank with 5 soldiers, a UN truck with 5 soldiers and at least a half a dozen Haitian police officers! Just when I think there can't possibly be more soldiers and police guarding our dusty excuse of a street, more show up!
Not that I mind. Both the police officers and UN soldiers have been the epitome of politeness and friendliness and besides that, extra security around our house is never a bad thing.
Back inside my thoughts wander to the conversation I had with Denise earlier this morning.
"If Madame Manigat (one of two candidates) gets voted in, fairly or not, I'm afraid this country is going to explode," she had said. "I was listening to the radio and President Preval said he would rather die then have the other candidate Michelle Martelly become president! At the markets right now it's almost impossible to find machetes or knives. Martelly's supporters have bought them all, so if he doesn't get in they'll burn the city down and go on a rampage. Food's going to get even more expensive, so I'm going to shop today before results are announced Monday!" She sighs.
"God is still in control," I remind her gently as she worriedly runs her hands through her dark hair. She looks at me for a moment and then nods.
I think back to the verses I memorized yesterday. Hebrews 13:5-6 For He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper I will not fear what man shall do unto me.
God is still in control, also of Haiti, and whatever political drama may or may not transpire in the days ahead.
God is on His throne.