Wednesday night, April 15, 2009 was perhaps the strangest, most random and possibly interesting night of my life. Everyday since I have been in the DR has been an adventure. Filled with learning, hardships and unexpected events. Wednesday night, is no exception. I want to tell you all my story, but first I want to say that I do not wish to offend anyone, including you or the Dominican people. It's just too good of a story to keep to myself. And so...
Wednesday evening, around 6:30, I arrived back at my host family's house, as usual, to find my Doña, her mom (who is blind and also lives with us) and their church pastor all sitting in the living room having coffee and talking. A pleasant scene. I come into the house, do my thing and eventually make my way to the kitchen table, which is in the same room as the living room, and start studying out of my Spanish workbook (I know you are all impressed with my discipline). A few minutes later, the pastor, who is probably between the ages of 30 and 35 and dressed in loose jeans, a red PGA golf Polo and brown sandles, asks me if I am an Evangelical.
Here in the DR, 90 percent of the population is Catholic. Most of the 90 percent were born into the religion and do not actually actively participate as adults. As an adult, if you have made any choice about your religion, you are most likely an Evangelical or an Adventist. To give you an idea of how serious reglion can be here, my Doña here in El Seibo is an Evangelical and she attends church at least four times a week, sometimes twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. Also, in the DR, you have to believe in God. It is more forgiveable for someone to be a mass murderer than to not believe in God. No joke.
With that said, the pastor asks me if I am an Evangelical and I say "No." He then goes on to ask if I at least believe in God, I say yes and gives me a deep, appreciative, affirmative sigh. A few minutes pass and he asks me to join my Doña's in prayer from the bible. No problem. I don't mind and even if I wanted to avoid the situation, the house is too small to go anywhere when there is more than 4 people there. I stand next to my Doña's and he starts reading a verse from the bible.
Before I know it, the pastor turns to my blind Doña, puts his hand on her heard and starts slightly violently shaking her head. She puts waves her hands up and down and the words "el diablo," the devil, are said repeatedly. All the while, my other Doña, her daughter, has her eyes closed and is chanting to herself, "Gracias A Dios, Gracias A Señor, Gracias A Jesus, Dios Mio," which translates to "Thank you God, Thank you Sir, Thank you Jesus, My God.¨
This is all well and good, and at this point I am more curious than anything. Next the Pastor asks me to step in the middle of the circle. I do. He then asks me to repeat him in Spanish. Which in reality, is hilarious, because I don't speak Spanish and even having to repeat someone in English has never been my strong point. So he's saying very deep and powerful words with his eyes closed and I am supposed to repeat him. I try my best, but he is getting frustrated and opens his eyes and gives me look of disdain as I completely ruin sentences with my lacking Spanish skills.
It gets more interesting. Then he tells my blind Doña to go to her room and get the oil. I start to get nervous. I am still in the middle of the circle, my other Doña has yet to open her eyes and is still chanting to herself and raising her arms. My blind Doña returns with the oil and the pastor tells her and my other Doña to open their hands. He puts oil in their hands and before I can say anything, they are rubbing the oil on my arms and chest (I am wearing a tank-top), my legs (I am wearing shorts) and my face. Both my Doña's are chanting and saying "Gracias A Dios," over and over. The pastor then takes the oil and pours in ontop of my head. My Doña's are still rubbing my skin with oil, chanting, have both started to cry and now I have oil dripping down my scalp in all directions.
By this point, my host brother has returned from work and the pastor doesn't break stride and pulls him into the center of the circle. In one foul swoop, my Doña moves the coffee table out of the way, the pastor turns my brother so his back is facing his Mom and pushes him backward so he falls lifelessly into his Mom's arms. My Mom quickly and gently lets him fall all the way to the floor, he lies there for about a minute, gets up, checks his cell phone and returns to chanting with everyone else.
While this is all happening, everyone has their eyes closed. I am the disloyal one, mostly because I am far too curious to keep my eyes closed.
Then it is my Doña's turn (not my blind Doña). By this point, she is nearly sobbing. The pastor takes her into the circle and proceeds to take the devil out of her and literally stomp it to death on the floor. More tears, arms waving and chants being sung.
Just as I thought it was over, the pastor singles me out again and calms the mood. He is quiet for about 15 seconds, as he builds the tension within all of us. I'm not sure if I should be scared, anxious, nervous or just all of the above. In a steady and slow voice, he asks what the names of my parents are. Thankfully for me, my parent's names translate easily into Spanish: Jorge y Linda (Linda means pretty in Spanish, which is perfectly fitting for my Mom. I also think it is one of the most common expressions in Spanish. Everything is "Que Linda," from a clean car, to a swept patio, to a new baby, whatever you want is ¡que linda!). Anyway, he begins to talk about Jorge y Linda and asks if I have brothers and sisters. I tell him yes and their names (Miguel is easy to translate, as is Meghan surprisingly, but Jim not so much). And he starts to pray for all of them. He tells me, "When your family is walking, when they are running, when they are teaching, when they are working, when they are eating God is with them." Then he tells me God is with me whenever I am doing these things as well.
It was pretty incredible, because as soon as I said, "Jorge y Linda," both my Doña's just started repeating their names and chanting louder and louder. There is some more crying and then the pastor silences all of us. He asks us to say prayers over him, which we do. The devil, el diablo, is taken out of him and stomped into the ground, and his tears pour out as well.
And then it is over. The whole thing took over an hour. We all hug and my Doña instantly starts making all of us dinner, the pastor starts to talk baseball with my host brother, my blind Doña sits in her rocking chair thing and I return to studying at the kitchen table with my skin and hair glowing in oil, like nothing ever happened. As my Doña is cooking, she repeats to herself, "Jorge y Linda," each time with a smile and a laugh. It honestly makes me laugh out loud in surprise happiness.
Then the Pastor looks at me very seriously and tells me to tell my family there is a pastor in El Seibo praying for them. That was my favorite part of the whole experience.
When I came home that fateful Wednesday night, I had no idea any of this would happen. When I agreed to be in prayer from the bible, I had no idea that moments later my whole body would be saturated in oil. The whole experience was pretty incredible, for many reasons... but one in particular, how affected both my Doña's were in such a relatively short amount of time. Their tears were real and straight from their hearts. They were not planned or practiced.
It also once again put my faith in the universe. I am convinced that sometimes people just know what's important to you, even if you can't speak the same language. Like the pastor making sure I understood to tell my family that "there is a pastor in El Siebo praying for them," or my Doña repeating, with a smile, "Jorge y Linda," to herself as cooked dinner.
Life works in mysterious ways. And let me just say this, no matter what you believe in, God, the universe's highest being, Jimmi Hendrix, whoever... he or she definitely has a sense of humor and is making everything happen for a reason.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
One very good reason to be jealous...and other things that you may or may not be jealous of.
La Playa! Last Sunday we went to a beach in Miches, called La Playa Esmerelda. It was the most beautiful beach I have ever seen in my life, as this picture only begins to show. The ultimate abandoned Caribbean beach. It is sad, because it recently has been bought by a European company and will soon be a 5 star resort complex, but for now it is pristine, untouched by most humans and beautiful. If anyone would like to visit me, we will go. Somehow, someway we will make our way back to La Playa Esmerelda.
Last week was Semana Santa, or Holy Week/Easter week/nobody works/some people work but mostly people visit each other within the country and take advantage of not working. So basically... it´s like a big spring break for the entire country.
My week was pretty relaxed, with computer training in the mornings and Spanish classes in the afternoon. The computer training consistent mostly of learning the expectations and limitations of working with computers in the DR. For example, working with computers when there is no electricity or internet. Which is two very common problems in the DR. Where we are right now, El Seibo, is the only place in the DR with 24 hours of electricity. Realistically, whereever I live, I will probably have between 12-16 hours of electricity a day. And most likely, the electricity will be shot off during the day, which makes running a daytime computer lab interesting, to say the least. It will be adventure, as has every day of my life so far in the DR.
We are also learning teacher training methods, for when we are in our sites and have the opportunity to train computer teachers there, or for when we teach our own classes. I can't say for certain, until I am assigned to my community, and I can asses comunity needs, but as Peace Corps IT volunteers, we are expected to give computer classes (such as Microsoft word, powerpoint, excel and possibly even photoshop and video editing if the resources exist) to our communities. As well as teacher training in all of these areas, so when we leave our communities in two years, our skills will be sustainable. I am excited for the teaching. I think it will be extremely challening, especially with my minimual Spanish skills and the lack of interest in education in the DR. However, I have hope, because people love technology. I mean it is amazing right. Look at what I'm doing right now, posting pictures and writing stories to share with my world back home.
So yes, people love technology and that is something I am grateful for as a Peace Corps volunteer, because I have a venue to help make my mark here in this country.
An aside: something else I am grateful for is the DR's respect and like of Americans and the United States. I feel really lucky, because I could very easily be in a country where Americans were disliked and distrusted. Here, everyone has a cousin or an uncle or a friend in "Neuva York," and so the connection to the US is one of trust and gratitude.
My main challenge is Spanish. I feel frustrated and anxious to be fluent NOW. No, I mean, yesterday. I want to be able to talk to my host families and all the people with as much ease as I do in English, but that is just not the case. It is a harsh and humbling reality, but one I can only hope with time with improve. People speak very fast here, very fast and they drop many endings to words especially the "s" sounds. So for example, the word "esta" becomes "ta." Or the word fiesta, is pronounced "fieta," which to someone who is learning Spanish like me, sounds like an entirely new word, not a common word that everyone knows no matter what language they speak.
A highlight from the week: I was standing on the sidewalk near the high school where we have training and a woman passing on the street grabbed my arm and said, "Soon, you're skin will look like mine," she smiled and contined walking. So in translation, my tan is looking good friends.
For everyone, I hope you all had a wonderful Easter on Sunday! And for all my Orthodox friends and family, I hope Holy Week goes well and Christos Anesti next Sunday! Enjoy the lamb! and please have an extra piece for me (or two or three, or seven or eight).
P.S. I have attempted now for three days to upload pictures with no luck. Hopefully sooner, rather than later I will get some uploaded to share.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
El Seibo cont...
Yesterday, my time on the internet got caught short, so I just wanted to finish up a bit.
Where was I... education in the DR. As we are learning everyday, the poor education of the DR is what most contributes to it being a developing country. The government is more interested in investing in tangible, physical things such as a metro. Santo Domingo has a metro, but the DR has the second to worst (or possibly the worst, I can´t remember right now) education system in Latin America.
It´s interesting, because what the government does is reflected in the people. The people here are proud of the metro, as they should be. An underground transportation system is an accomplishment for any city. The Metro is a real thing, whereas people can see it, can use it, can talk about their expereince with their neighbors. Education is not tangible. Measuring someone´s growth through education is not something the average person can see, feel or discuss. And so, the interest for support among the goverment and even the people is almost nothing.
In the US, there is a direct correlation between more education and a better life. That notion is a new concept here. I believe though, that things are changing here in the DR. As more people leave the DR to get work in the US (there are over 4 million Dominicans living in the US, mostly in New York City), education is making it´s presence and importance known. Slowly but surely.
Kids here alternate between attending school in the morning, from 8-1, or in the afternoon, from 1-5. There usually is at least an hour of recess per school day, and the resources itself for classrooms, textbooks, teachers and other learning materials is beyond limited.
Here in El Seibo, I have two host brothers who are 13 and 8. The 13-year-old, Jeffery, loves learning English and can actually speak it and read it fairly well. However, his English comprehension is non-existent. The other night we were reading a comic strip in English out of his English textbook. He could pronounce most of the words, but he had no idea what he was saying or what 95 percent of the words meant.
The education learning style here is the "bucket system." Teachers just tell information to kids and their minds are supposed to be like an empty bucket, just filling up with information. As most of us can guess, this is highly ineffective and kids end up memorizing everything while actually learning and retaining very little.
Despite this, the potential in these kids is incredible. I see it everyday in my host brothers. Jeffery wants to be a pilot and study in Canada. He asked me what the capital of Canada was and if it snows there everyday of the year. Like most children of the world, with even some education, there is an immense desire to learn about their world here in the DR, and the world abroad.
I found myself torn between supporting him and knowing the reality of the situation. I decided to be idealistic and tell him with lots of hard work, he could do anything he wants. I´ve decided everyday to make some mention of Canada to him, just so he knows there is one person in this world who believes he really can do anything he wants, include live in a place where it snows everyday.
But as mentioned, there are serious limitations here. Until the government sees the value in investing in education, the DR will continue to fall behind other Latin American nations and other developing nations of the world, no matter how many metros are built.
Where was I... education in the DR. As we are learning everyday, the poor education of the DR is what most contributes to it being a developing country. The government is more interested in investing in tangible, physical things such as a metro. Santo Domingo has a metro, but the DR has the second to worst (or possibly the worst, I can´t remember right now) education system in Latin America.
It´s interesting, because what the government does is reflected in the people. The people here are proud of the metro, as they should be. An underground transportation system is an accomplishment for any city. The Metro is a real thing, whereas people can see it, can use it, can talk about their expereince with their neighbors. Education is not tangible. Measuring someone´s growth through education is not something the average person can see, feel or discuss. And so, the interest for support among the goverment and even the people is almost nothing.
In the US, there is a direct correlation between more education and a better life. That notion is a new concept here. I believe though, that things are changing here in the DR. As more people leave the DR to get work in the US (there are over 4 million Dominicans living in the US, mostly in New York City), education is making it´s presence and importance known. Slowly but surely.
Kids here alternate between attending school in the morning, from 8-1, or in the afternoon, from 1-5. There usually is at least an hour of recess per school day, and the resources itself for classrooms, textbooks, teachers and other learning materials is beyond limited.
Here in El Seibo, I have two host brothers who are 13 and 8. The 13-year-old, Jeffery, loves learning English and can actually speak it and read it fairly well. However, his English comprehension is non-existent. The other night we were reading a comic strip in English out of his English textbook. He could pronounce most of the words, but he had no idea what he was saying or what 95 percent of the words meant.
The education learning style here is the "bucket system." Teachers just tell information to kids and their minds are supposed to be like an empty bucket, just filling up with information. As most of us can guess, this is highly ineffective and kids end up memorizing everything while actually learning and retaining very little.
Despite this, the potential in these kids is incredible. I see it everyday in my host brothers. Jeffery wants to be a pilot and study in Canada. He asked me what the capital of Canada was and if it snows there everyday of the year. Like most children of the world, with even some education, there is an immense desire to learn about their world here in the DR, and the world abroad.
I found myself torn between supporting him and knowing the reality of the situation. I decided to be idealistic and tell him with lots of hard work, he could do anything he wants. I´ve decided everyday to make some mention of Canada to him, just so he knows there is one person in this world who believes he really can do anything he wants, include live in a place where it snows everyday.
But as mentioned, there are serious limitations here. Until the government sees the value in investing in education, the DR will continue to fall behind other Latin American nations and other developing nations of the world, no matter how many metros are built.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The newness of April and El Seibo
March is over. Gracias A Dios. It´s not that I have anything against March, it´s just that I think this March was the longest month of my life. So much happened in just 31 days, I´m convinced if I got through this month, I can get through any month.
For all of April, I will be in El Seibo for technical training. El Seibo is in the east part of the country, if you could possibly see on this map. It is drier here than in Santo Domingo, with less rain and more dust.
So far, I am enjoying El Seibo for its size and more tranquil environment. For example, I can actually walk around this city by myself in daylight AND during the night. Granted, I´m not even trying to walk downtown past 8 p.m., but I can walk from a fellow volunteer´s house in my barrio after dinner and not have it be a big deal whatsoever.
Our technical training (as I understand it) will range from opening up computers and understanding what makes them function, and not function in the DR, to learning how to teach classes for computer programs such as Excel, Word, Powerpoint etc. Most computers here in the DR are at least 5-7 years old, and nearly all of the software is from 2002. So, all Microsoft programs are the 2002 edition. It definetly proves to have its limitations, but at least there is some infrastructure.
Twice a week, we are assigned to work in computer labs around El Seibo. My group is assigned to a children´s daycare or school (I´m not quite sure what it would exactly qualify under). It´s actually a pretty sweet building, with a computer lab, complete with 10 functioning computers WITH internet. In two weeks, we will have to teach a class to kids here pertaining to anything we want. So possibly a class on how to use Powerpoint or Word, or even how to use Google to search for information on the web.
Less boring stuff... My family here is great. I live in a three bedroom house with my Doña, her mom (who is blind) and goes by Mami, her two nephews, Jeffery who is 13 and Issac who is 8, and her son Ralpho who is 20. I have a room to myself as does Mami. My Doña, her son and her two nephews all share the third room.
The two little boys are my best friends here. I taught them how to play Crazy Eights, or "Ocho Locos," and now I´m almost positive there will not be a night here that we won´t play. I am helping Jeffery with his English. The education system here in the DR, to be honest is pathetic.
And I´m getting kicked out of the lab. More later.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
2.6 percent of my life
Today we had a discussion in training about how, statistically speaking, Peace Corps is 2.6 percent of my life. And when I get back to the states, I still have 69.7 percent of my life to live. I haven´t decided if 2.6% is a long time. Compared to 69.7, I guess not.
Life is moving as I know it. Last weekend I visited another IT volunteer, who has been serving for just about a year. She lives in a puebla of about 30,000 people called Cutupu. It´s north of Santo Domingo, outside of a bigger city called La Vega. It was a very eye opening experience, because I was able to first hand see how volunteers live and work in this country. Renata, the volunteer I visited, lives around the corner from a school where she works in the computer lab and teaches English three times a week. She has this awesome three bedroom house all to herself. Now when I say awesome, I mean it´s a big house and it´s all to herself. We didn´t have running water the entire weekend and the power was off most of the day and into the night a couple of nights as well.
But overall, the whole experience made me very, very excited to get to my site in May, and even more excited for August when I will have my own place. Basically, I´m excited to offically start my life in the DR.
This Thursday, my group is broken up into two separate groups: the IT volunteers and the Environment volunteers. Us IT volunteers will be going to El Seibo, which is the east part of the country, for 5 weeks to have technical training. I´m not quite sure what to expect, but spending 5 weeks away from Santo Domingo is quite appealing to me at this point.
The DR has had its ups and downs for me. I feel homesick for Reno, for friends, for comforts of the first world like showers and 24 hour electricity. But when I feel like that, my host family here in Santo Domingo will do something that makes me feel welcome and like I can do this for two years.
For example: my host family is stoked on Tacos. Which only proves what I have known most of my adult life, that Mexican food is the most popular cuisine on the planet. Anyway, before I left to visit Renata, I showed them how to make Tacos, college style. What I mean, is some ground beef, the ¨Santa Fe¨ taco mix you buy at grocery stores and just add water to, to season the beef. Some tomatos and hot sauce. They loved it, and they might have been some of the most unexciting tacos I´ve ever eaten.
The night I got home from my visit, Sunday, Tacos were on the menu again. But this time, my Doña, the head woman of the house, had seasoned the beef with garlic, oregano, salt and pepper. They had the tortillas frying up in some oil on the stove. Fresh cut tomatos and lettuce, and of course hot sauce.
Four days later, these were some of the best tacos i´ve had in the last year.
It just proved to me once more how welcoming the people here are. They are open to me and my past experiences, and they want to take what I taught them and make it their own. I know it´s only tacos, but hey, it´s also a great metaphore for life.
I know not everyday will be easy. But I have to remember, when I do feel homesick and would rather be back in the comfortable living of the US, where I have family and friends... sometimes it just takes tacos to bring people from around the world together.
Life is moving as I know it. Last weekend I visited another IT volunteer, who has been serving for just about a year. She lives in a puebla of about 30,000 people called Cutupu. It´s north of Santo Domingo, outside of a bigger city called La Vega. It was a very eye opening experience, because I was able to first hand see how volunteers live and work in this country. Renata, the volunteer I visited, lives around the corner from a school where she works in the computer lab and teaches English three times a week. She has this awesome three bedroom house all to herself. Now when I say awesome, I mean it´s a big house and it´s all to herself. We didn´t have running water the entire weekend and the power was off most of the day and into the night a couple of nights as well.
But overall, the whole experience made me very, very excited to get to my site in May, and even more excited for August when I will have my own place. Basically, I´m excited to offically start my life in the DR.
This Thursday, my group is broken up into two separate groups: the IT volunteers and the Environment volunteers. Us IT volunteers will be going to El Seibo, which is the east part of the country, for 5 weeks to have technical training. I´m not quite sure what to expect, but spending 5 weeks away from Santo Domingo is quite appealing to me at this point.
The DR has had its ups and downs for me. I feel homesick for Reno, for friends, for comforts of the first world like showers and 24 hour electricity. But when I feel like that, my host family here in Santo Domingo will do something that makes me feel welcome and like I can do this for two years.
For example: my host family is stoked on Tacos. Which only proves what I have known most of my adult life, that Mexican food is the most popular cuisine on the planet. Anyway, before I left to visit Renata, I showed them how to make Tacos, college style. What I mean, is some ground beef, the ¨Santa Fe¨ taco mix you buy at grocery stores and just add water to, to season the beef. Some tomatos and hot sauce. They loved it, and they might have been some of the most unexciting tacos I´ve ever eaten.
The night I got home from my visit, Sunday, Tacos were on the menu again. But this time, my Doña, the head woman of the house, had seasoned the beef with garlic, oregano, salt and pepper. They had the tortillas frying up in some oil on the stove. Fresh cut tomatos and lettuce, and of course hot sauce.
Four days later, these were some of the best tacos i´ve had in the last year.
It just proved to me once more how welcoming the people here are. They are open to me and my past experiences, and they want to take what I taught them and make it their own. I know it´s only tacos, but hey, it´s also a great metaphore for life.
I know not everyday will be easy. But I have to remember, when I do feel homesick and would rather be back in the comfortable living of the US, where I have family and friends... sometimes it just takes tacos to bring people from around the world together.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
My first week in the DR
Tomorrow will offically be one week in the DR. Which means, I have spent seven days understanding about 15 percent of everything around me. It also means I have to take my second dosage of malaria pills, and I will also wash my hair for only the second time.
The DR is everything and nothing I expected. Santo Domingo is crazy. I am already over it. I am ready to go into the interior of the country, where we will spend our two years and work. My host family lives right off the "autopista durate," which is seriously like living off I-395, but much worse. The city is full of trash. Im amazed, mostly at peoples´ complete indifference to trash. People just throw it wherever they want, all over the roads, in gutters, in the middle of sidewalks. It´s disgusting.
My host family here is amazing. Family in the DR is highly regarded and everyone lives near, or with, their moms, aunts, cousins, uncles, grandparents. In my house I live with my mami and papi, their two daugthers (one has never married and I think the other is divorced) and a granddaughter. I honestly havent quite figured out if the granddaughter, Stephanie (now theres a name I can pronounce) is the daughter to either of my Mami´s daughters. Not knowing who belongs with who, or who actually lives with who is very common here and not something that is really discussed.
There is no running water at my house. I take that back, there is running water only on Tuesdays. And Im not sure if that is every Tuesday. Maybe one Tuesday a month or every other? No se. In the shower, there is a big trash can filled with water and a small bucket (basically a liter bottle with a handle). At night, I shower by scooping up water and using as little as possible (hence my reason for only having washed my hair once so far).
The only potable water has to be brought into all the barrios (neighborhoods) and are in those big blue containers that are in most offices in the US. Puts a whole new meaning to "standing around the water cooler."
Despite all this, my house is very clean. I learned last Sunday that we clean the house, disinfect and mop floors and all that jazz every Sunday.
Speaking of Sunday... last week I went to church with my family. It was pretty incredible, even though I understood maybe every 10th word. It was in a cement building, maybe 1000 square feet, with pieces of corregated steel patched together for the roof. The floor was dirt, the chairs were old lawn chairs that had most likely been donated by the parishoners. Despite this, the people were happy and singing, and it was incredible. At one point in the service, everyone hugs each other and literally I think EVERY SINGLE person in the church came up and hugged me. And I think every person in the church hugged each other.
I think that says the most about this people. I stand out like a sore thumb everywhere I go, especially in my barrio. A light haired gringa. And yet, they are very welcoming. And so patient with me and my horrible Spanish.
Another thing that struck me at church was a 3 year old boy. On Sunday I decided that the people here learn to be street smart at a very, very young age. There is no other choice. The boy´s shoe fell off and instead of running around without his shoes, he picked it up and brought it to his mom (who was maybe 16 by the way) and lifted his foot up for her to put it back on. This 3 year old boy already knows that walking around streets and buildings with dirt floors, no pavement, glass and trash everywhere is NOT a good idea.
It made me think about kids in the US. Myself in the US. How even clean streets are not something we think twice about.
A few more highlights: Spanish is going well. We have training everyday, with at least 3 hours of language class everyday. Its awesome. Im not going to lie, despite having to shower out of a bucket, I feel so lucky to be here. The training we are receiving is incredible. Soon, hopefully very very very very very very soon, I will be speaking converstational Spanish. I will be trained in computers, will mostly likely teach students and kis how to use computers in Education. It´s really just an incredible opportunity.
Anyway... there is so much more to say, but dinner is on "la mesa."
The DR is everything and nothing I expected. Santo Domingo is crazy. I am already over it. I am ready to go into the interior of the country, where we will spend our two years and work. My host family lives right off the "autopista durate," which is seriously like living off I-395, but much worse. The city is full of trash. Im amazed, mostly at peoples´ complete indifference to trash. People just throw it wherever they want, all over the roads, in gutters, in the middle of sidewalks. It´s disgusting.
My host family here is amazing. Family in the DR is highly regarded and everyone lives near, or with, their moms, aunts, cousins, uncles, grandparents. In my house I live with my mami and papi, their two daugthers (one has never married and I think the other is divorced) and a granddaughter. I honestly havent quite figured out if the granddaughter, Stephanie (now theres a name I can pronounce) is the daughter to either of my Mami´s daughters. Not knowing who belongs with who, or who actually lives with who is very common here and not something that is really discussed.
There is no running water at my house. I take that back, there is running water only on Tuesdays. And Im not sure if that is every Tuesday. Maybe one Tuesday a month or every other? No se. In the shower, there is a big trash can filled with water and a small bucket (basically a liter bottle with a handle). At night, I shower by scooping up water and using as little as possible (hence my reason for only having washed my hair once so far).
The only potable water has to be brought into all the barrios (neighborhoods) and are in those big blue containers that are in most offices in the US. Puts a whole new meaning to "standing around the water cooler."
Despite all this, my house is very clean. I learned last Sunday that we clean the house, disinfect and mop floors and all that jazz every Sunday.
Speaking of Sunday... last week I went to church with my family. It was pretty incredible, even though I understood maybe every 10th word. It was in a cement building, maybe 1000 square feet, with pieces of corregated steel patched together for the roof. The floor was dirt, the chairs were old lawn chairs that had most likely been donated by the parishoners. Despite this, the people were happy and singing, and it was incredible. At one point in the service, everyone hugs each other and literally I think EVERY SINGLE person in the church came up and hugged me. And I think every person in the church hugged each other.
I think that says the most about this people. I stand out like a sore thumb everywhere I go, especially in my barrio. A light haired gringa. And yet, they are very welcoming. And so patient with me and my horrible Spanish.
Another thing that struck me at church was a 3 year old boy. On Sunday I decided that the people here learn to be street smart at a very, very young age. There is no other choice. The boy´s shoe fell off and instead of running around without his shoes, he picked it up and brought it to his mom (who was maybe 16 by the way) and lifted his foot up for her to put it back on. This 3 year old boy already knows that walking around streets and buildings with dirt floors, no pavement, glass and trash everywhere is NOT a good idea.
It made me think about kids in the US. Myself in the US. How even clean streets are not something we think twice about.
A few more highlights: Spanish is going well. We have training everyday, with at least 3 hours of language class everyday. Its awesome. Im not going to lie, despite having to shower out of a bucket, I feel so lucky to be here. The training we are receiving is incredible. Soon, hopefully very very very very very very soon, I will be speaking converstational Spanish. I will be trained in computers, will mostly likely teach students and kis how to use computers in Education. It´s really just an incredible opportunity.
Anyway... there is so much more to say, but dinner is on "la mesa."
Friday, January 2, 2009
happy new year!
2009 will prove its worth in events. In both unexpected and expected, planned events. It should be a year of memories. The good kind: filled with adventure and optimism.
My friends are amazing people. I am continuously reminded of that. They are smart, fun, caring, hilarious, inventive, inspiring and generally lovely people. What awes me the most is their diversity. Each one offers something another doesn't, and each of my friends will prove to make this world a better place by being true to themselves, those around them and the universe. They already do by going out in the world and trying at something no matter what it is.
To try is one of the greatest lessons we can learn and practice. Everyday of my life I will try at something. Whether I succeed beyond my wildest dreams or fail miserably, I refuse to sit around and wait.
I believe in the universe. I believe this world is a circle and what you put into it, you will receive in other ways as the circle completes itself. The universe will take care of you if you take care of it.
It's so much more than global warming. For me, it's understanding what this world consists of is miraculous. We as humans are apart of the divinity. Even though we can be destructive, self-absorbed and arrogant, we can conquer these faults by embracing them, owning them and finally mastering them. We have the responsibility to take care of each other, no matter what part of the planet we come from.
This is my goal in 2009. In the circle that makes up the universe, I will put help and hope and the positive energy to make them both successful. I have no idea how the circle will complete itself because of my actions, and I do not intend to wait in vain. I do know, however, I must try to do as much as I can to give back to the universe all the wonder it has given me in my short 23 years.
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