So, later on the day of my 23rd, American Airlines awoke me with a lovely present: the bags we’d been waiting for! Tim’s clothes, which he was thrilled to receive and then be able to change his outfit, and a bag full of things for me! My wonderful family sent me a lot of things I asked for (as well as some packages they’d received from some of my dedicated friends up there in the U.S. of A.), and some surprises. The best surprises of all were two hand-painted dog bowls that say “Lina” on them! My dog Sammy’s color was blue; it fit because he was named after Sammy Sosa and blue was just his color. My dog Benny’s color is green, again because it’s just his color, you can just tell. Lina’s color had to be whatever color stuff they had in the tiny selections of pet supplies I could find in this country. That, for a point, was red, pink, brown, green, white, purple, and/or orange. After the shipment from my family I am happy to announce that despite the fact that I used to not be so keen on the color, Lina’s color is pink. The bowls, which Julie the artist put a lot of effort into and it totally paid off, are purple and pink, and her new leesh is pink, and I had to just face the fact that she is a puppy who’s color is going to be pink. I even put pink bows over her ears to show her cuteness and my formal, enthusiastic support of the color. So there you have it. Julie’s the greatest.
The weekend following that less than perfect weekend in Santiago was also spent in Santiago, with Timmy. A few key differences are that we didn’t stay in a hotel that was abandoning us, we didn’t overpay for where we slept either (in fact, we were able to use the kitchen and make some great food too), and we weren’t stuck waiting for baggage. So, we did more, and it was a lot more fun.
Perhaps I should back track to the days spent in my site. Day 1) I cleaned and Tim rested. I had a class that evening (and had meetings the night before which Tim was a very good sport and attended and they were a bit crazy) so we decided we’d hang around my town and meet with people and lay low. Day 2) Beach time! We took Lina who got car sick on the way to the beach…luckily it was my host family’s car… just realized I still haven’t cleaned it out as properly as I should… I’ll get on that. Anywho, the beach was incredible. Tim and my host brother spent a lot of time talking about baseball (I got to interpret for them) and then we went swimming and playing in and around the rocks at the beach. On the way home, my host brother pulled over to a path that led to a part of the coast I hadn’t yet seen and am so excited to see again: caves all along the ocean front. We happened to be there at dusk so I got some great photos. It was a Tim photo shoot in fact. I also got my only photo of my host brother and I there as well as the only photo of Tim and I from his trip. I had to beg both boys to take the photos but I’m glad I did. Day 3) My host brother took Tim and I up the hill in my community. I’ve been wanting to climb it for a long time and never had a deadline to impose on my host brother so we never made it happen until Tim came. It was quite a hike, a lot of potentially dangerous places to fall to ones death, but we made it out alive. Tim got stung by a wasp though… Day 4) River walk. It was Tim’s idea and I give him credit for it. Only problem is the river was pretty much completely dry so there wasn’t much to it besides walking on large rocks and sand. Still, it was fun. We spent the rest of our time watching DVDs he had brought me, enjoying the nation’s selection of beverages, talking, laughing, playing with Lina, and playing dominoes. All in all, it was a good site visit.
We got to Santiago on a Saturday and spent the day welcoming some of my friends who were coming to celebrate with us. Then we all went out looking for fun and found ourselves on some interesting adventures. We ended up searching for a Georgetown basketball game all over the city and being unsuccessful, looking for Mexican food and again being unsuccessful, looking for a place to dance and being unsuccessful and then tired, and so instead we ate empanadas, walked around, decided the smell of an indoor fountain is an incredible thing, entered a recently constructed T.G.I. Fridays and leaving without purchasing anything, and shopped in an incredible grocery store.
The next day more of my friends arrived and after some fast food and internet, one group headed out shopping, and another group (which included me) headed out to see the famous Santiago monument. It was a very enjoyable afternoon. That evening we played Cranium, ate tacos and birthday cake, and even though it was 11:55 on a Sunday when we finally went out, we found a lot of fun activities to keep us busy. Highlights were when engaged in team races up the steps of the monument to find two of my friends (my team lost), when I convinced some casino security guards that I was not a security threat because it was my birthday, when for our free drink in the casino we ordered water, when my little (incredible) brother and I danced freelance to Caribbean dance music and the Dominicans watching (of which there were at most 3) cheered us on, when some sketchy woman in the casino gave us her massage business cards, when the taxi driver wanted to drop us off at a country-western themed bar and simultaneously we all yelled out “no!”, and, best of all, when one of my friends, who’s always the one with the good ideas, decided to mount a large metal statue of a chicken on the hill by the monument and the chicken proceeded to nosedive into the pavement. They fell.
Unfortunately my little brother had to leave me the next day. I took him to the airport and for a second time rationalized myself out of crying at the Cibao Regional Airport.
And so began Semana Santa, aka the week leading up to Easter. A lot of family of the people in my community came in to visit for the holiday week because of the holiday and because we live so close to the beach where everyone in the country goes for Semana Santa. I had some visitors for Saturday and Sunday morning until I had to leave. (More on that to come.)
I wanted to thank them for making the long journey and engage in a sentimental holiday activity with them so I went out and bought some eggs. I’d asked an American at some point how long you’re supposed to hard boil eggs. I wish I could remember who it was who told me “you can’t boil them for more than 3 minutes or you’ll mess them up,” because I’d love to smack this person. I wasn’t quite as sure as this person about that amount of time so I double checked with some Dominicans. They also told me 3 minutes. I figured I’d remembered that it actually takes a while incorrectly and so decided to go with those who clearly knew better than me.
That night I presented my visitors with the surprise and we then attempted to drip hot wax from my green and pink candles on the eggs which was somewhat successful once we got a groove going. They were pleased and we all had fun decorating, but mostly I was excited to crack them open and mush them up with mayonnaise. The next morning (Easter morning) I cracked an egg against my table and was surprised to find a very wet and very un-hard-boiled egg-goo inside. So much for hard boiled eggs for Easter. Still, my friend was great and made us pancakes and scrambled eggs (with other eggs) which were delicious. He also made us a delicious lunch and then I had to get the heck out of there, leaving them alone in my house for the evening.
I had been unaware until the weekend of my birthday celebrations that a Creole class I was planning to take in June had been moved to this week. I spent a good deal of my last day with Tim trying to get in touch with someone to sign me up for the course before I lost cell phone signal on my way back into my community. I’m pleased to say that my efforts were successful, although it came at the cost of being able to spend both nights I’d planned on spending with my friends who visited me for the holiday weekend.
But here I am in Santo Domingo, learning Creole and doing well. March has flown by and I certainly hope April is calmer and I spend less time away from my community. And so, as I’ve just learned…
Orevwa e babay!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Happy Birthday to Me!
I could write a very depressed message about the crappy stuff that happened on and around my 23rd. But I’m not going to. Instead I’m just going to tell you what happened because in the grand scheme of things, it’s really not all that bad.
My brother, Tim, came to visit on Friday the 7th. The day he came I was supposed to leave the capital about 4 hours before his flight got in so I’d have plenty of time to get to Santiago and get him. Well, I got a bit held up and then went to catch a bus at a station which had nothing leaving for almost 2 hours. This would make me late to get my bro. So, I took a cab to another bus then was supposed to get dropped off on the highway out by the highway in Santiago. The bus driver forgot to stop so he dropped me off a bit up the road so I got to walk along the side of the highway for a bit. Then I ran across the highway to catch a ride to the airport.
Tim’s bags got held up in New York so we had to miss the bus to my site on Saturday. This meant that I had to cancel an English class, miss the celebration of March birthdays for my women’s group at my site (we were all going to go to the beach on my b-day to celebrate with cake and fried fish and whatnot), and spend more time away from my puppy. We spent the day calling American Airlines every few hours to be told that they had no info on the bags and that maybe they’d be on the next flight, waiting for the hotel to bring us towels (took 3 hours), fix the hot water (took another 3 hours), and fix the air conditioning (still haven’t done that). We went out for dinner and I had the weirdest feeling that we’d be robbed. A few minutes later a guy in a fake Old Navy tee shirt pulled up in front of us like he wasn’t going to let us cross the street before he went through and reached out and grabbed my necklace off of my neck. I was shocked, a security guy pulled up, asked what happened and went after the guy. We chased the both of them and then realized we’d never reach them and stopped, then went back to where it happened, thinking that maybe at least the security guy would come back. He didn’t. So we went and ate Pizza Hut.
So then, on my actual b-day, we called American and were told that the bags would surely be in today. So we’ll see.
But, it’s a good day because 1) I have my brother here, 2) we’re eating good food instead of campo food, and 3) I got to use internet on my b-day and hear from many of you! Hope all is well in your worlds!
My brother, Tim, came to visit on Friday the 7th. The day he came I was supposed to leave the capital about 4 hours before his flight got in so I’d have plenty of time to get to Santiago and get him. Well, I got a bit held up and then went to catch a bus at a station which had nothing leaving for almost 2 hours. This would make me late to get my bro. So, I took a cab to another bus then was supposed to get dropped off on the highway out by the highway in Santiago. The bus driver forgot to stop so he dropped me off a bit up the road so I got to walk along the side of the highway for a bit. Then I ran across the highway to catch a ride to the airport.
Tim’s bags got held up in New York so we had to miss the bus to my site on Saturday. This meant that I had to cancel an English class, miss the celebration of March birthdays for my women’s group at my site (we were all going to go to the beach on my b-day to celebrate with cake and fried fish and whatnot), and spend more time away from my puppy. We spent the day calling American Airlines every few hours to be told that they had no info on the bags and that maybe they’d be on the next flight, waiting for the hotel to bring us towels (took 3 hours), fix the hot water (took another 3 hours), and fix the air conditioning (still haven’t done that). We went out for dinner and I had the weirdest feeling that we’d be robbed. A few minutes later a guy in a fake Old Navy tee shirt pulled up in front of us like he wasn’t going to let us cross the street before he went through and reached out and grabbed my necklace off of my neck. I was shocked, a security guy pulled up, asked what happened and went after the guy. We chased the both of them and then realized we’d never reach them and stopped, then went back to where it happened, thinking that maybe at least the security guy would come back. He didn’t. So we went and ate Pizza Hut.
So then, on my actual b-day, we called American and were told that the bags would surely be in today. So we’ll see.
But, it’s a good day because 1) I have my brother here, 2) we’re eating good food instead of campo food, and 3) I got to use internet on my b-day and hear from many of you! Hope all is well in your worlds!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
This is What Would Happen If You Tried to Call Me At My Site
I say"HOLA, Elisa por favor?" then they talk at length while dad and I crack up, then we say "gracias" and "adios"
sometimes they seem to be asking questions but we just cover our mouths and snicker
then we poke each other and whisper- "you answer!" "No, you!"
sometimes they seem to be asking questions but we just cover our mouths and snicker
then we poke each other and whisper- "you answer!" "No, you!"
It's Almost As If I Was An Adult Or Something
Weird.
I’ve moved! A lot has changed actually, since you’ve last heard from me. I’ve moved, I’m cooking for myself (and loving it), I bought some stuff for the house (and completely blew out both my move-in allowance and my allowance for February and am taking out a large loan from myself once again, before I’ve managed to pay back one from earlier), I’ve started my youth and health committee meetings, and of course am still learning this pet-owning thing. Oh and I went to Carnival. YAY! Oh, and I’m planning for my brother’s visit. YAY! He loved his trip here so much, he’s coming back to play some more, which coincides with my birthday.
So first things first. Carnival. After our 3 month in-service training a bunch of us water and health volunteers went to La Vega where our business friends were doing their in-service training and where the largest Carnival celebration is held. It was incredible, as I’m sure you can imagine. Basically it was TONS of people watching a pretty unorganized parade of people in costumes with really elaborate masks, sponsored by large corporations, as they walked down the packed streets. The best/worst part was that these masked people carried these whacking sticks to hit the people who weren’t looking and those hurt a lot. They tended to keep to the rump area, but also managed to get some of us on our legs and me on my wrist, which probably wouldn’t have hurt at all if my watch hadn’t been on that wrist, so I got a bruise. But I’d be lying to you if I said my bruise was as dramatic or as painful as some of my friends’ who got hit on their legs and bums. I’ve got some pictures to prove it. Check them out. And something you can’t tell from those pictures is that all their bruises were 3 dimensional. Yikes. But we still managed to have a great time.
The move went pretty smoothly considering it’s said to be one of the most stressful things a person can endure. Well, let’s put it into perspective for a moment; fact 1) I’m a Peace Corps volunteer which automatically means I have about 1/100 of the stuff that a normal person would have to move, fact 2) I moved down the street, fact 3) I am living in a country where there is always someone around, and that person most likely always wants to help you in any way they can. So, the move was easy yes, and if it hadn’t been, that’d be stranger than the fact that it was easy. Dominicans, like a lot of people, particularly Latinos, are very family-oriented people and see living alone as a last resort, very odd, only for bachelors, or for people whose children have moved away and spouse has died. So, with regard to this move I got a lot of people asking me if I wasn’t scared to live alone, and a lot of offers from parents to have their children sleep in my spare bedroom so at least I wouldn’t have to sleep in an empty house.
Well, of course as Americans, living alone doesn’t seem so strange, although I must say that I can’t think of a single person who’s living in a house by themselves in the US… but still, I don’t think my parent’s friends would offer to have their children sleep in my house in the US. They’re sweet offers, but I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I turned them all down.
And as far as being scared of living alone goes, or of being scared of this house, if I’m too rational to have not cried in this country, not when I was super sick and it was all I could do not to pass out on the toilet, not when it was my first Christmas alone, a very sad day, and when my one advocate here left me in her house alone with a man who made it his mission to critique everything about my eating, then yes, I’m too freaking rational to be scared of some rats!
Besides, I have a killer attack dog.
So the house. I was all set to live in a yellow cement house with backup battery power, with some furniture already there, a fan, an outdoor kitchen and cabana sitting-space, and then they wanted 2.5 times what people normally pay for rent here! So, it was back to the drawing board for a bit, and then it was decided that I would live in the house in which my don’s father used to live. It hadn’t been lived in for 17 years and boy could we tell when we came in to clean! That was a fun day. We cleaned with a hose, a broom as a scrub brush for the walls, windows and ceiling, something that translates to “acid,” and bleach. It was incredibly dusty, and then with the hose water it turned to mud all over the floor which we swept through the rooms and out the back door. We doused the furniture with water and a good scrubbing too. My most “PC Moment” was when I pushed a large cabinet away from the wall to find the space below it completely full of poop, dust, and snail shells. Well, to scrub I added bleach, acid, and water to the mix, and those snails must leave a lot of goop when they’re allowed to take over an area for 17 years. The mixture became quite slippery and while scrubbing and exerting a lot of force downwards, I found myself going for a little ride across the floor. It was fun, like ice skating amongst the crunching sounds of snail shells being broken.
The place looked like a new house afterwards. And now that I’ve bought a few things for the place and that I’ve moved my stuff over, it’s really beginning to feel like home. It’s definitely rustic for our standards, and it is a step down from the house I had with my host family, but compared to volunteer’s homes I’ve seen, it’s great. It’s certainly big enough for me, which is awesome.
I’m in the center of town, across the street from the park, from the meat shop, from what will be a little store (that’s under construction now), next to the fried meat stand, next to a colmado and about a second from the school. I see positives and negatives to this location, so we’ll see. The house is peach, definitely a color step down from the white and yellow of my host family’s house or the yellow of the potential house, but it could be worse; it could be pink (though this peach could definitely be described as pink…shush, don’t tell Beth.) There’s a great, shaded and gated sitting space outdoors, a sitting room, an indoor bathroom which doesn’t work yet (the toilet drips water on the floor when the house gets water from the tap), and 4 little rooms which could be used as bedrooms, or a kitchen. Right now one is my bedroom, one will be a sort of guest room, one will be a kitchen and one is where my clothes and refrigerator are now, so clearly that’s my kitchen/dressing room. The house is part cement and part wood, and the one big down fall I see now is that it’s set down from the road, which you’ll recall is dirt, so there’s a lot of dust. I’ll figure something out though.
My first few meetings have gone well. People seem enthusiastic. I gave a presentation of my findings of the interviews which I was hoping to have about 40 people attend (though I went to every house of the community and gave an invitation to every house, which could mean as many as 400 people were coming.) In the end, 74 people came and listened, looked at the map I made of their community, the ladies who helped me with the interviews received certificates that I hand-made, ate some snacks and left. I was glad to have so many people and they asked great questions and thanked me and were really curious, and that, of course, felt awesome.
The youth and adult meetings both went well too. The youth, as you can imagine, are very spirited and lively and I am really looking forward to working with them. The adults, who are enrolling in my nutrition course aren’t quite as enthusiastic, but I think with time they’ll come to see that the material is useful and will bring their friends and we’ll have a good time. For the kiddies, I’ve decided to have a play group that’s going to meet on Saturdays but we haven’t met yet. I’m hoping they’ll get excited about it and it will make a nice transition into the youth group for those who are right on the cusp in terms of their age. The topics we cover in the youth group are a bit mature for some which is why they’ll be invited to the play group instead. I’m hoping for it to be like little mini-sessions of summer camp with activities such as those.
I’ve moved! A lot has changed actually, since you’ve last heard from me. I’ve moved, I’m cooking for myself (and loving it), I bought some stuff for the house (and completely blew out both my move-in allowance and my allowance for February and am taking out a large loan from myself once again, before I’ve managed to pay back one from earlier), I’ve started my youth and health committee meetings, and of course am still learning this pet-owning thing. Oh and I went to Carnival. YAY! Oh, and I’m planning for my brother’s visit. YAY! He loved his trip here so much, he’s coming back to play some more, which coincides with my birthday.
So first things first. Carnival. After our 3 month in-service training a bunch of us water and health volunteers went to La Vega where our business friends were doing their in-service training and where the largest Carnival celebration is held. It was incredible, as I’m sure you can imagine. Basically it was TONS of people watching a pretty unorganized parade of people in costumes with really elaborate masks, sponsored by large corporations, as they walked down the packed streets. The best/worst part was that these masked people carried these whacking sticks to hit the people who weren’t looking and those hurt a lot. They tended to keep to the rump area, but also managed to get some of us on our legs and me on my wrist, which probably wouldn’t have hurt at all if my watch hadn’t been on that wrist, so I got a bruise. But I’d be lying to you if I said my bruise was as dramatic or as painful as some of my friends’ who got hit on their legs and bums. I’ve got some pictures to prove it. Check them out. And something you can’t tell from those pictures is that all their bruises were 3 dimensional. Yikes. But we still managed to have a great time.
The move went pretty smoothly considering it’s said to be one of the most stressful things a person can endure. Well, let’s put it into perspective for a moment; fact 1) I’m a Peace Corps volunteer which automatically means I have about 1/100 of the stuff that a normal person would have to move, fact 2) I moved down the street, fact 3) I am living in a country where there is always someone around, and that person most likely always wants to help you in any way they can. So, the move was easy yes, and if it hadn’t been, that’d be stranger than the fact that it was easy. Dominicans, like a lot of people, particularly Latinos, are very family-oriented people and see living alone as a last resort, very odd, only for bachelors, or for people whose children have moved away and spouse has died. So, with regard to this move I got a lot of people asking me if I wasn’t scared to live alone, and a lot of offers from parents to have their children sleep in my spare bedroom so at least I wouldn’t have to sleep in an empty house.
Well, of course as Americans, living alone doesn’t seem so strange, although I must say that I can’t think of a single person who’s living in a house by themselves in the US… but still, I don’t think my parent’s friends would offer to have their children sleep in my house in the US. They’re sweet offers, but I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I turned them all down.
And as far as being scared of living alone goes, or of being scared of this house, if I’m too rational to have not cried in this country, not when I was super sick and it was all I could do not to pass out on the toilet, not when it was my first Christmas alone, a very sad day, and when my one advocate here left me in her house alone with a man who made it his mission to critique everything about my eating, then yes, I’m too freaking rational to be scared of some rats!
Besides, I have a killer attack dog.
So the house. I was all set to live in a yellow cement house with backup battery power, with some furniture already there, a fan, an outdoor kitchen and cabana sitting-space, and then they wanted 2.5 times what people normally pay for rent here! So, it was back to the drawing board for a bit, and then it was decided that I would live in the house in which my don’s father used to live. It hadn’t been lived in for 17 years and boy could we tell when we came in to clean! That was a fun day. We cleaned with a hose, a broom as a scrub brush for the walls, windows and ceiling, something that translates to “acid,” and bleach. It was incredibly dusty, and then with the hose water it turned to mud all over the floor which we swept through the rooms and out the back door. We doused the furniture with water and a good scrubbing too. My most “PC Moment” was when I pushed a large cabinet away from the wall to find the space below it completely full of poop, dust, and snail shells. Well, to scrub I added bleach, acid, and water to the mix, and those snails must leave a lot of goop when they’re allowed to take over an area for 17 years. The mixture became quite slippery and while scrubbing and exerting a lot of force downwards, I found myself going for a little ride across the floor. It was fun, like ice skating amongst the crunching sounds of snail shells being broken.
The place looked like a new house afterwards. And now that I’ve bought a few things for the place and that I’ve moved my stuff over, it’s really beginning to feel like home. It’s definitely rustic for our standards, and it is a step down from the house I had with my host family, but compared to volunteer’s homes I’ve seen, it’s great. It’s certainly big enough for me, which is awesome.
I’m in the center of town, across the street from the park, from the meat shop, from what will be a little store (that’s under construction now), next to the fried meat stand, next to a colmado and about a second from the school. I see positives and negatives to this location, so we’ll see. The house is peach, definitely a color step down from the white and yellow of my host family’s house or the yellow of the potential house, but it could be worse; it could be pink (though this peach could definitely be described as pink…shush, don’t tell Beth.) There’s a great, shaded and gated sitting space outdoors, a sitting room, an indoor bathroom which doesn’t work yet (the toilet drips water on the floor when the house gets water from the tap), and 4 little rooms which could be used as bedrooms, or a kitchen. Right now one is my bedroom, one will be a sort of guest room, one will be a kitchen and one is where my clothes and refrigerator are now, so clearly that’s my kitchen/dressing room. The house is part cement and part wood, and the one big down fall I see now is that it’s set down from the road, which you’ll recall is dirt, so there’s a lot of dust. I’ll figure something out though.
My first few meetings have gone well. People seem enthusiastic. I gave a presentation of my findings of the interviews which I was hoping to have about 40 people attend (though I went to every house of the community and gave an invitation to every house, which could mean as many as 400 people were coming.) In the end, 74 people came and listened, looked at the map I made of their community, the ladies who helped me with the interviews received certificates that I hand-made, ate some snacks and left. I was glad to have so many people and they asked great questions and thanked me and were really curious, and that, of course, felt awesome.
The youth and adult meetings both went well too. The youth, as you can imagine, are very spirited and lively and I am really looking forward to working with them. The adults, who are enrolling in my nutrition course aren’t quite as enthusiastic, but I think with time they’ll come to see that the material is useful and will bring their friends and we’ll have a good time. For the kiddies, I’ve decided to have a play group that’s going to meet on Saturdays but we haven’t met yet. I’m hoping they’ll get excited about it and it will make a nice transition into the youth group for those who are right on the cusp in terms of their age. The topics we cover in the youth group are a bit mature for some which is why they’ll be invited to the play group instead. I’m hoping for it to be like little mini-sessions of summer camp with activities such as those.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
