I can't imagine anyone not wanting to go on this trip.
My favorite memory will probably be when I was swordfighting a kid in his backyard, using two sticks shaved clean with a machete. Another kid brings over a ball and mimes to us "baseball." A few minutes later the kids from the neighboring 3-4 houses were all running around setting up bases, homeplate was a piece of cardboard and third base was a crumpled water bottle. Boys and girls who ranged from around 6 to 13 took turns smacking a broken dented whiffle ball with a stick, and having a ton of fun doing it.
The work wasn't too bad, the first few days were the worst, we were digging the holes for the latrines. Two holes in particular gave us trouble, nicknamed "the quarry" because we were chipping away at rock for 4 feet of it, and "the claypit" which was slow hard work. The people of Don Juan would always help with the work, whether they were jumping in the pit to dig, or chopping open a coconut for us to drink from (the coffee was great too). The culture I experienced there was one of optimism in the face of poverty and daily disappointments. Thank you for the opportunity to learn from them!
-Donato
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