The last two (meaning Tuesday and Wednesday) days at camp have more or less been an American horror story of sorts. A storm wiped out all our power, thus forcing the crew to cope with Guatemala's unforgiving heat and humidity without fans or AC. That being said, we did not have a way to blog either. We ended up finishing the concrete floors for Antonio's family. The group actually decided to mix the concrete in the middle of the road the second day; a decision made without the consensus of my fellow workers and me, but it worked out alright. Mixing the concrete was rough but I think the task I least enjoyed was moving multiple barrels of about 160L of water from a freshwater spring at the bottom of a hill to the top. Initially, we carried the water up the hill separately, but we eventually spread a bunch of people along the trail so we could move more buckets in a more efficient manner. One of the group members names this formation the "bucket brigade", a name that sounds a little half-baked to me but that's okay. As one man worked with the trowel finishing laying down the new floor, I sat in the street with aforementioned Tito's older brother Josue. My broken, cringe-worthy ability to speak Spanish usually interfered with linguistic communication between me and him, but it worked out okay in the end; Josue would just pull me by the arm and point or give me an indicative look when I didn't understand something. I let him use my phone, which he seemed to really enjoy. He listened to some good tunes via Spotify including: "Stacy's Mom" by The Fountains of Wayne and "Never Going Back Again" by Fleetwood Mac. After the few people still working on the floor had finished, Tito ran into the wet concrete, but that was an easy fix. The mother of the family, Mayra, made us homemade ginger cookies and gave a brief yet vehement homily on how grateful she and her family was for the work we had done. I felt pretty sad leaving Tito and Josue behind but they have me a big hug and shook my hand. Quique, a Herculean black man who had worked with the crew, shook my hand and called me his brother, which was really moving. Nothing even similar has happened to me in the US. Seems to me that people here are much more genuine and congenial than at home. Yesterday (Thursday) was essentially a tourist day. Everyone from El Faro went up the Rio Dulce River, a boat ride that took about two hours, to a beautiful spring where near boiling temperature water, heated geothermically, met cool water from a creek. Josh and I jumped from the top of the steamy waterfall despite being told not to by Mr. and Mrs. Dean. There was a massive spider that was roughly four quarters in diameter, and for awhile people were flipped out about it. After the spring, we went to a restaurant called Rancho Mary. The restaurant's food was delicious; I ordered tilapia, which was very evidently fresh. After eating, Keith, the trip coordinator bought everyone ice cream and we headed back to the camp. -Noah Bennett