The Puppy
On Wednesday of this week, a lady came to my gate with a tiny brown puppy. She started to hand it to me through the bars and I took a step back, confused as to why she was giving me this puppy in the first place.
“Here, take it,” she tells me.
“But I don’t want it,” I reply, backing up another step.
“No, it’s not for you, it’s for Francia (the lady I rent my room from).”
“Francia’s not even here. She won’t be back until tomorrow night,” I try to explain somewhat frantically. “And I have to go up to the center, I won’t be back until tonight.”
“No te preocupas (don’t worry),” she says as she puts the dog through the gate. “Francia knows about the dog, and it already ate. Just put it in the bathroom while you’re gone.”
Reluctantly, I took the tiny, shaking, brown puppy and did exactly as the lady told me. I put it in the bathroom, in the shower, because it’s too small to jump over the tub, where it immediately started to howl (by the way, dogs in the DR don’t go ‘bark, bark,’ but ‘how, how,’ according to the humans imitating them). My original plan was to spend the entire afternoon/evening at my center- but I took a break about 4 or 5 to come back down to my house to check on the newest addition to my compound of unreality.
It was still alive and “how, howing” its lungs out. Basically, the same thing it’s been doing since it got here. Francia came back the next day and did in fact know all about the new puppy. Apparently it is actually her sons, and once it is big enough, it will eventually move to Santiago and stay at her son’s house (even though her son lives in Miami). So my general feeling of the whole situation is we have another dog.
I named him Charco, which means “waterfall,” in Dominican Spanish, because he spent his first day in the shower. He’s cute and little and is too scared to be alone, so he follows whoever is around like a mosquito that can smell your ankles.
The Political Rally
On Friday, I had my weekly training for the workers at my center. We do an hour of computer training and then an hour of English. As I was walking home from my center after we finished, I rounded the corner onto the main drag of my town and bam! People all over the street, music playing loudly and commotion everywhere. As I walked, and listened, it wasn’t hard to figure out what was happening. A bachata beat coming from 4 giant speakers in a back of a pick-up, abruptly changes into a meringue beat, the crowd parts to either side of the street and a familiar Lexus SUV revs its engine and makes its way to the end of the crowd.
The doors open and the one and only Eddie steps out, wearing designer everything (from his hair gel to his leather shoes) to loud cheers from the crowd. The meringue song is in fact about Eddie himself and how he is a sindico (mayor) para todos (for all).
I have just stumbled upon my first political rally in the DR, and this one is for Eddie’s candidacy for mayor of La Caya and his political party in general (PRD- Partido Revoluntionario Dominicano).
I walk a little bit further and find Francia standing on the sidewalk casually watching the commotion. I stand with her for not more than a minute when the crowds go from orderly on either side of the street to chaotic in the middle of the street. Eddie and his crew just started to hand out white T-shirts and hats with his picture and slogan: “Eddie- Sindico 2010-2016, Para Todos.”
My eye catches an older Dona gripping her new T-shirt in her hands as she waves it around in the air in excitement. I look toward the Lexus and there are two older men literally fighting via tug-a-war for a T-shirt, as they both have their new “Eddie,” baseball hats on top of the baseball hats they are already wearing.
The commotion, the yelling, the frenzy… I had to get me some Eddie paraphernalia! Some Eddie swag, as my good friend Barrett would call it. I make a break for it and start to run toward the crowd. I dodge some old men trying to rip hats off each other’s head; I push aside a couple young kids, run straight toward Eddie and make eye contact with him almost immediately. At this point, he is trying to fight off at least 15 people (mostly women), all trying to rip t-shirts out of his hands.
“Yo quiero,” I mouth to him and then point to my own T-shirt, as the word for T-shirt in Spanish has of course escaped me during all the pandemonium. He gives me a nod and takes a step into the crowd with an outstretched arm and a T-shirt at the end of it for me.
It gets swiped by a little old grandpa. Dang it! This is serious! I need to focus.
He takes another step toward me as more people have come over and are attempting to grab more T-shirts from his hands. I brave the people and take a step forward, taking charge by cutting the next grandpa off and grabbing my T-shirt before the mob can encircle me.
Victory! I walk back over to Francia and show her my accomplishment with a proud smile. She gives me a simultaneous head nod and lip pucker- a common Dominican response to pretty much anything.
The crowds begin to calm as more people get their goods. Eddie takes his place among the men and the political rally begins. And it was just like any other political rally- men standing in a circle talking about how great they are. The evening concluded with the pick-up truck blasting Eddie’s personal meringue song leading the people through the streets, wearing their new T-shirts and hats, chanting his name.
I personally did not wear my new T-shirt that evening, because as the token “Americana” of La Caya, I want to appear to be neutral in most aspects of life here. However, this new T-shirt is possible the best thing I’ve gotten since being in this country and you will definitely see me in America wearing it all over.
The Spaghetti Dinner
One afternoon, at least two months ago, I was sitting at my center talking about food with a few of the workers there. The subject of spaghetti got brought up and they asked me if I like it.
“Claro (of course),” I replied. “But I like American spaghetti more than Dominican spaghetti.
Let me explain why. The following are the ingredients to Dominican spaghetti (it varies slightly town to town):
1. Tomato Paste
2. Onions
3. A tub of margarine/butter
4. A cup of a mix between tomato sauce and pace’s salsa you’d use for chips and salsa
5. A can of corn
6. Salt. And way too much of it.
7. In some cases, and all too often, mayonnaise
8. Overcooked noodles
So yes, I definitely and without shame like “American” spaghetti more than Dominican spaghetti. So on this fateful afternoon the people of my center told me I should have them over and cook American spaghetti. That date was last night.
I’ll admit that I took the easy way out and used canned spaghetti (Prego) I had bought from a supermarket in the city at the beginning of summer, but I added my own flair, with some sautéed tomatoes and some extra garlic, etc. I cooked the noodles just right and even made garlic bread.
The evening was supposed to start at 7:00, and like the good American host I am, all the food was ready by 7:30. We didn’t eat until 8:30, because people were late, two of the girls left and took a while to come back, blah, blah, blah yadda, yadda.
The garlic bread was a big hit. I mean, who doesn’t like garlic bread right? The “American” spaghetti, not so much. I asked them if they liked it and they were polite and said yes. I told them I wanted to know the truth, and they told me they ate everything on their plates. I laughed out loud. Then they told me it was different.
This was the best thing I’d heard all night. Different? I asked. Yes, they replied with a smile. Well, Dominican spaghetti is different for me too, I said as I smiled back.
Maybe spaghetti will save us all. Bring us over our cultural differences and let us appreciate what we already have, what we’re used to, and respect what’s new and “different,” for all of us.
And if this fails, like I said- the garlic bread was a big hit.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
An up to the minute update
My Dona's half-brother, my drug dealer, as I affectionately refer to him, is running for Sindico (mayor) of La Caya. Now the roads might actually get fixed.
Important side note: He's not really a drug dealer. I know this for certain. But what other label to you give to someone who never seems to work, has torn apart a hillside to build himself a Dominican mansion complete with an infinity pool, owns two identical Lexus 450s just because and has numerous Cayeros (Men of La Caya)to do whatever he tells them?
The development of Eddie's future aspirations for political gain was revealed last Friday morning when I walked outside of my house for my daily run, and was abruptly stopped by a white pick-up, recently stickered with a giant smiling photo of the one and only Eddie and the words "Eddie Nolasco- Sindico, 2010-2016." And his slogan? "Para Todos" or "For All."
Right now, I'm sitting at a table outside of my house and there are about five men wiring four giant speakers to who knows what kind of stereo system to the back of this pick-up. The volume is so high, my computer is literally bouncing on the table, which is at least 60 feet away from the truck. But that's how it's done in this country.
Nothing is official in this country until you get a pick-up with giant speakers to announce to the people that whatever it is you are doing (like running for mayor) is important enough to damage everyone's ear drums within a five-mile radius.
It's raining and thundering, which has me curious why they're working so hard.
That Eddie, he's a winner. He makes people work even when it's raining. He takes care of every Mom in La Caya, no matter how young or old. He built an infinity pool and wants YOU to come "descansar arriba," or "rest up at his house."
He is "para todos," and given his smiling face on both sides of that pick-up, even I want to vote for him.
Important side note: He's not really a drug dealer. I know this for certain. But what other label to you give to someone who never seems to work, has torn apart a hillside to build himself a Dominican mansion complete with an infinity pool, owns two identical Lexus 450s just because and has numerous Cayeros (Men of La Caya)to do whatever he tells them?
The development of Eddie's future aspirations for political gain was revealed last Friday morning when I walked outside of my house for my daily run, and was abruptly stopped by a white pick-up, recently stickered with a giant smiling photo of the one and only Eddie and the words "Eddie Nolasco- Sindico, 2010-2016." And his slogan? "Para Todos" or "For All."
Right now, I'm sitting at a table outside of my house and there are about five men wiring four giant speakers to who knows what kind of stereo system to the back of this pick-up. The volume is so high, my computer is literally bouncing on the table, which is at least 60 feet away from the truck. But that's how it's done in this country.
Nothing is official in this country until you get a pick-up with giant speakers to announce to the people that whatever it is you are doing (like running for mayor) is important enough to damage everyone's ear drums within a five-mile radius.
It's raining and thundering, which has me curious why they're working so hard.
That Eddie, he's a winner. He makes people work even when it's raining. He takes care of every Mom in La Caya, no matter how young or old. He built an infinity pool and wants YOU to come "descansar arriba," or "rest up at his house."
He is "para todos," and given his smiling face on both sides of that pick-up, even I want to vote for him.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Suffering
Last weekend was Peace Corps “committee” weekend in the capital. I arrived with my fellow Peace Corps friend, Helen, on Friday just in time for lunch. We walked straight from our bus stop to the American Embassy. The American Embassy is a small piece of heaven on this island. There is a cafeteria to purchase American favorites, such as hamburgers (which is what I had for lunch that day), a free pool that all American citizens are welcome to use, HOT showers and wonderful little signs about every toilet which read “Please DO NOT throw your toilet paper in the garbage, flush it down the toilet!” I mean, if it doesn’t get more American than that, I’m not sure what does.
The weekend was busy and it started on Friday afternoon with a personal meeting between all of the Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) in centers like mine (16 of us in total) and the new director of the centers. As mentioned in my last blog, these centers, CTC’s as we refer to them here, have been given a new director and in result many changes have been proposed to “improve” the centers. After our fancy meeting at the Santo Domingo Hilton last Monday, our Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, Kathy, requested a meeting with the new director and us volunteers working in his centers.
I have to give us PCV’s credit- we prepared a powerpoint that step-by-step outlined all the problems we had or forsaw in the director’s new plan. The meeting was nearly three hours long. One of the things this director wants to restrict /eliminate completely is the use of “chatear,” in the centers. As you may have guessed, this is the ability to “chat” on the internet, and most people do this by using MSN messenger, AIM, or other forms of instant messaging. The new director’s reasoning behind eliminating “chatear,” is to promote a more “cultural, learning experience,” within all of the centers.
Well that’s fantastic new director guy, and you can take us all out to dinner so we can discuss all of your and our idealistic goals for this country over a sophisticated imported class of Chilean red wine. But let’s get serious for a second… if you take away chatear at my center, you might as well close the doors, because there goes 80 percent of our business.
When it was my turn to present my point on this point, I started by asking the director if he had family in “Nueva York.” “Claro! (of course!)” he replied, surprised I would ask such a question. Of course this man has family in the states, and that’s precisely why I asked the question. Then I asked him how he talked to his family in the states, and he said with the phone or through the Internet. “Ahhh!, The Internet!” I replied back. “What a coincidence! So do all the people in my town! And weird, they come to the ONLY internet center in town to do so and also- this is so strange, they use programs such as CHATEAR to communicate instantaneously.” Funny thing that Internet is, letting you talk to people all over the world. Someone should do something about that eh? (I wish my Spanish could be as dripping with sarcasm as my English is, but he got my point without as much of the disdain).
The meeting ended okay, he wants each of us to write a report on our center explaining what will and will not work for us individually out of his plan. It seems like he’s interested in hearing our concerns, but I can’t help but feel everything’s been done and no matter what report we present, the changes and decisions have already been made.
The rest of committee weekend went really well. Busy, but well. I signed myself up to help with some Peace Corps projects, including the writing of our very own telenovela for kids, where we will try to explain about safe sex, self-esteem and not having to get married to make something of yourself.
I also decided to give in and purchase an internet plan. I have been thinking about this since the middle of summer, and two other volunteers in my group have already done it, and had been raving about how awesome it is to have internet whenever you want it. Because I didn’t move out on my own, I have a bit of extra money that would normally go for rent, but I will be using it to pay the internet bill. For a long time I felt guilty about having internet all the time, and that’s why I didn’t do it sooner. This feeling of, “I’m in the Peace Corps, I’m here to suffer. I’m not supposed to have normal American life pleasures like Internet 24/7.”
Thank God for Remi. As I tried to explain my feelings of guilt to him one day over the phone, he told me he didn’t understand why I thought I had to suffer in order to be a good volunteer. And he’s right. Yes, I did come here to change my life, to sacrifice all kinds of things, to push myself in ways I never thought I could. But I shouldn’t think that I have to suffer for two years in order to call this thing a success. I came here to grow, to learn and to share, but I didn’t come here to be miserable for two years.
That seems very dramatic just for buying a monthly internet plan, but it’s a good life lesson. Budgeting your money so you can afford to have a pleasure in life, such as Internet, doesn’t make you more or less of a person, or in my case, a better or worse volunteer. It just makes you a person who wants to talk with people you love more. So with that said, I have Internet friends! Let’s skype!
The week has been good otherwise. Computer and English classes are chugging along. I gave my English class their first test this week and one of my classes didn’t do so well, but my other class did really well. It’s a give and take thing. Teaching, in general, has been interesting for me. I like being in the classroom and interacting with my students, both in my computer and English classes, practicing my Spanish while they practice their new computer and English skills. I often think if I could be a teacher in the states, if I would want to do that. I feel like the language thing would make it much easier, but I still have yet to decide if teaching is my life calling. It’s only been about a month, I’ll give it some more time and let you know.
Tomorrow I am going to an all-inclusive resort with my Dona. Totally random I know. She is actually part of the International Lion’s Club here, and they are having this weekend get-away thing at a resort near Puerto Plata (which is only about 1.5 hours from us). It’s a kind-of expensive, actually really expensive considering my monthly paycheck, but when I told her all this she decided to cut September’s rent in half so I could go. Last night, I told her I just want to eat and take hot showers all weekend. She laughed and said she’d eat just as much with me. Next blog I’ll have details from this little outing.
Other than that, life continues to move. Some days are slow (like today, we were supposed to have training for my workers at my CTC, and we discussed it multiple times this week, but today, everyone had to run errands in other cities and it’s partly cloudy which could mean rain, so you know- they had to go home. Next Friday, I’m told, for four hours to make up for missing this week). Other days are much faster, and by the end of those days, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief just to be finished.
No matter the day, no matter if it was fast, slow, if I had a meeting with the new director of the CTC’s or teaching and passing time in my small Dominican town- it’s the simple pleasures that help. Like thinking about the hamburger I ate last week at the Embassy, or enjoying the fresh chinola (passion fruit) juice my family made after lunch today, or getting on the internet at 11 p.m. just because I felt like it. Yes, we were not put on this earth to suffer. We were put on this earth to be challenged and to become better people both for ourselves and all those around us. But suffering? That’s not in the cards for my Peace Corps experience at least.
The weekend was busy and it started on Friday afternoon with a personal meeting between all of the Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) in centers like mine (16 of us in total) and the new director of the centers. As mentioned in my last blog, these centers, CTC’s as we refer to them here, have been given a new director and in result many changes have been proposed to “improve” the centers. After our fancy meeting at the Santo Domingo Hilton last Monday, our Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, Kathy, requested a meeting with the new director and us volunteers working in his centers.
I have to give us PCV’s credit- we prepared a powerpoint that step-by-step outlined all the problems we had or forsaw in the director’s new plan. The meeting was nearly three hours long. One of the things this director wants to restrict /eliminate completely is the use of “chatear,” in the centers. As you may have guessed, this is the ability to “chat” on the internet, and most people do this by using MSN messenger, AIM, or other forms of instant messaging. The new director’s reasoning behind eliminating “chatear,” is to promote a more “cultural, learning experience,” within all of the centers.
Well that’s fantastic new director guy, and you can take us all out to dinner so we can discuss all of your and our idealistic goals for this country over a sophisticated imported class of Chilean red wine. But let’s get serious for a second… if you take away chatear at my center, you might as well close the doors, because there goes 80 percent of our business.
When it was my turn to present my point on this point, I started by asking the director if he had family in “Nueva York.” “Claro! (of course!)” he replied, surprised I would ask such a question. Of course this man has family in the states, and that’s precisely why I asked the question. Then I asked him how he talked to his family in the states, and he said with the phone or through the Internet. “Ahhh!, The Internet!” I replied back. “What a coincidence! So do all the people in my town! And weird, they come to the ONLY internet center in town to do so and also- this is so strange, they use programs such as CHATEAR to communicate instantaneously.” Funny thing that Internet is, letting you talk to people all over the world. Someone should do something about that eh? (I wish my Spanish could be as dripping with sarcasm as my English is, but he got my point without as much of the disdain).
The meeting ended okay, he wants each of us to write a report on our center explaining what will and will not work for us individually out of his plan. It seems like he’s interested in hearing our concerns, but I can’t help but feel everything’s been done and no matter what report we present, the changes and decisions have already been made.
The rest of committee weekend went really well. Busy, but well. I signed myself up to help with some Peace Corps projects, including the writing of our very own telenovela for kids, where we will try to explain about safe sex, self-esteem and not having to get married to make something of yourself.
I also decided to give in and purchase an internet plan. I have been thinking about this since the middle of summer, and two other volunteers in my group have already done it, and had been raving about how awesome it is to have internet whenever you want it. Because I didn’t move out on my own, I have a bit of extra money that would normally go for rent, but I will be using it to pay the internet bill. For a long time I felt guilty about having internet all the time, and that’s why I didn’t do it sooner. This feeling of, “I’m in the Peace Corps, I’m here to suffer. I’m not supposed to have normal American life pleasures like Internet 24/7.”
Thank God for Remi. As I tried to explain my feelings of guilt to him one day over the phone, he told me he didn’t understand why I thought I had to suffer in order to be a good volunteer. And he’s right. Yes, I did come here to change my life, to sacrifice all kinds of things, to push myself in ways I never thought I could. But I shouldn’t think that I have to suffer for two years in order to call this thing a success. I came here to grow, to learn and to share, but I didn’t come here to be miserable for two years.
That seems very dramatic just for buying a monthly internet plan, but it’s a good life lesson. Budgeting your money so you can afford to have a pleasure in life, such as Internet, doesn’t make you more or less of a person, or in my case, a better or worse volunteer. It just makes you a person who wants to talk with people you love more. So with that said, I have Internet friends! Let’s skype!
The week has been good otherwise. Computer and English classes are chugging along. I gave my English class their first test this week and one of my classes didn’t do so well, but my other class did really well. It’s a give and take thing. Teaching, in general, has been interesting for me. I like being in the classroom and interacting with my students, both in my computer and English classes, practicing my Spanish while they practice their new computer and English skills. I often think if I could be a teacher in the states, if I would want to do that. I feel like the language thing would make it much easier, but I still have yet to decide if teaching is my life calling. It’s only been about a month, I’ll give it some more time and let you know.
Tomorrow I am going to an all-inclusive resort with my Dona. Totally random I know. She is actually part of the International Lion’s Club here, and they are having this weekend get-away thing at a resort near Puerto Plata (which is only about 1.5 hours from us). It’s a kind-of expensive, actually really expensive considering my monthly paycheck, but when I told her all this she decided to cut September’s rent in half so I could go. Last night, I told her I just want to eat and take hot showers all weekend. She laughed and said she’d eat just as much with me. Next blog I’ll have details from this little outing.
Other than that, life continues to move. Some days are slow (like today, we were supposed to have training for my workers at my CTC, and we discussed it multiple times this week, but today, everyone had to run errands in other cities and it’s partly cloudy which could mean rain, so you know- they had to go home. Next Friday, I’m told, for four hours to make up for missing this week). Other days are much faster, and by the end of those days, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief just to be finished.
No matter the day, no matter if it was fast, slow, if I had a meeting with the new director of the CTC’s or teaching and passing time in my small Dominican town- it’s the simple pleasures that help. Like thinking about the hamburger I ate last week at the Embassy, or enjoying the fresh chinola (passion fruit) juice my family made after lunch today, or getting on the internet at 11 p.m. just because I felt like it. Yes, we were not put on this earth to suffer. We were put on this earth to be challenged and to become better people both for ourselves and all those around us. But suffering? That’s not in the cards for my Peace Corps experience at least.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Changes
The only consistent thing in life is that life is inconsistent. What we thought we knew, or what we thought we could get used to and start to depend on can break, change or simply be removed in a blink of an eye, or in the case I am about to explain, in the hiring of a new director.
The center I work for in my town is a nation-wide program supported by the office of the First Lady. As an outsider coming into this government run program, it is not hard to see that the centers are not exactly the most efficiently run or living up to their full potential. Apparently, within the last few weeks, the Dominican government has agreed with this notion as well and fired their director and hired a prominent business man in the DR to take over the reins and whip the centers into shape.
On Monday morning, I got a phone call from the lady, Sarah, who serves as the liaison between us Peace Corps Volunteers and the office of the first lady. She called each one of us and said there was “emergency” meeting tomorrow (Tuesday) in the capital at 8 a.m. and people from every center around the country needed to be there, including Peace Corps Volunteers to discuss the new changes that are going to happen in the centers. At first I sort of laughed in her face. 8 a.m.! Are you crazy? It takes at least four hours for us to get the capital from La Caya, and even if we did leave here at 4a.m. we’d be sitting on the curb for two hours, waiting for the buses to start running at 6 a.m.
With this thought in my head, I wrote her an email and said thanks, but no thanks- if you want us to come to the capital in a day, the meeting needs to start later and give me a break, you can’t expect us to just stop everything to go into the capital for a TWO hour meeting (yes, have I mentioned that yet? Yes, the meeting was only scheduled for two hours).
Within an hour Sarah called me back and said the meeting had been changed to 10 a.m., was going to be at the Hilton in Santo Domingo (which is one of the swankiest hotels in the city, right on the water) and drum roll please… the First Lady was going to be there. What?! The Dominican Republic’s own Michelle Obama! Well, Sarah now that the office of the first lady has its priorities straightened out, we’ll see you in the capital in less than 24 hours. Keep the coffee hot if we’re not right on time.
We did in fact arrive right in time to have hot coffee and soon after the new director of the centers started to give his presentation with all the upcoming changes about to rock all our worlds (the drama was just as thick at the meeting, I promise).
First the “proposed” good changes: All centers will have improved internet service by the end of the year. The first lady said it herself in her speech, “If we expect people to come to our centers, our internet needs to be fast and reliable.” This cannot come fast enough, let me tell you.
Second: Training for all teachers of the centers will be given, at least for this year, on different subjects such as making a webpage and teaching basic computer skills. This has been one of my biggest problems with the current structure of the centers. These centers exist across the country, and they employee local people to work, but there is minimal to NO training. How is anyone expected to teach their communities about computers if they themselves have never been trained to do so? The fact that the new director recognizes the importance of this and is spending the money to train the employees is a great start in the right direction for the future of the centers.
However, and now to only some of the “proposed” changes that have most of us concerned: one of the classes they want to train the teachers in and eventually have all the centers give as a class to their communities is, “how to buy goods off the internet.” First things first, in order to buy things off the internet, especially from the states and have them internationally shipped, people need an address. There is no regular postal service in this country, how the heck are people supposed to get goods delivered to them if there literally is no infrastructure to deliver the goods? Second, as Stephanie a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, brought up during the question and answer time, it is a rare thing for a Dominican to have a credit card. Of course some do, but the average person, especially in a town as small as mine, does not have a credit card. I don’t think US companies are going to let people buy things off their websites based on the honor system.
Next, they want to eliminate the “sub-encargado” position in all the centers. Currently, in all the centers there is an encargado (this is the person who runs the lab daily) and the sub-encargado, who works in the afternoons to relieve the encargado, but has basically the same responsibilities. In order to make this cut, they will have to change the hours of the centers, which for my town means we’d have to cut our evening classes. We scheduled evening classes on purpose, so people who work or have school can still take classes at our center after. Plus, for our center, eliminating our sub-encargado is taking about five steps backward. Our sub-encargado, Mari, is one of our main strengths at the center. People come into the center just to talk and hang out with her. If we lose her, we lose half our business.
Speaking of business, both the new director and the First Lady gave these great idealistic speeches about how all Dominicans, no matter how rich or poor and including the 2 million who are living in extreme poverty in this country deserve a chance to use and learn about technology. And because of this, all services, including internet and classes will be free of charge to everyone. This again, idealistically, sounds amazing. Free computer and oftentimes language classes and internet to small rural communities with limited resources for anything like this is something I as a Peace Corps Volunteer fantasize about. However, and as everyday more I spend in this country I learn, reality is not something we can ignore. What happens when my center runs out of paper or ink cartridges for our printers? Or we need to buy dry-erase markers for classes? The money we make from the internet and now the classes is what is paying for all these expenses.
How is any center in this country supposed to be sustainable (which is the ultimate goal of the First Lady, by the way) if they have no income? Just a small question I have to wonder if the new director has really thought about yet.
On the plus side, the First Lady came to the meeting at the swanky Hilton Hotel and as mentioned above, gave a great speech about the potential of the centers. She’s much prettier in person than in her photos. The lunch at the Hilton was delicious, and for a few hours I honestly felt like I was at some conference in a hotel in the states. I drank apple juice for the first time in six months, which was honestly six swallows of heaven.
But with how much they paid for this meeting at the Hilton, I’m pretty sure they could pay Mari’s salary for at least half a year.
On the long bus ride home, the two people from my center who came with me to the meeting, Selsy (the center’s encargada and my project partner) and Fausto (a teacher at the center) and I had an equally long talk about the fate and future of our center. Although we all agreed this meeting and the plans of the first lady meant many changes, some good, most not so good, it’s still our center. It’s still our community and we need to and should do what we want. In the end, the government can tell us how to run our center, but they don’t live in La Caya. They don’t know or understand the needs of my small community and what is keeping my center alive are the things they want to eliminate.
Just when life starts to look consistent, the First Lady calls a meeting and tells you to fire people. The top-down structure of this country, to be frank, pisses me off. If anything came from our long day in the capital, I hope my team at my center doesn’t take that we have to do everything the big shots in the city want us to do. But rather, they listen to their gut and take what we discussed on the bus ride home. It’s our center, and idealism is great, but we have to combine it with our reality and make it work for our center.
Its September now, which means I have officially been here for six months and I can honestly say it has been the fastest, busiest, yet slowest six months of my life. Life is full of surprises, and what six months in the DR has taught me is to be flexible. More flexible than I ever thought I could be, or have to be for that matter. But here I am, I’m doing it and so is every person on this island- because they’ve spent their whole lives knowing what they think they know, what they can grow to get used to and depend on can change in an instant.
The center I work for in my town is a nation-wide program supported by the office of the First Lady. As an outsider coming into this government run program, it is not hard to see that the centers are not exactly the most efficiently run or living up to their full potential. Apparently, within the last few weeks, the Dominican government has agreed with this notion as well and fired their director and hired a prominent business man in the DR to take over the reins and whip the centers into shape.
On Monday morning, I got a phone call from the lady, Sarah, who serves as the liaison between us Peace Corps Volunteers and the office of the first lady. She called each one of us and said there was “emergency” meeting tomorrow (Tuesday) in the capital at 8 a.m. and people from every center around the country needed to be there, including Peace Corps Volunteers to discuss the new changes that are going to happen in the centers. At first I sort of laughed in her face. 8 a.m.! Are you crazy? It takes at least four hours for us to get the capital from La Caya, and even if we did leave here at 4a.m. we’d be sitting on the curb for two hours, waiting for the buses to start running at 6 a.m.
With this thought in my head, I wrote her an email and said thanks, but no thanks- if you want us to come to the capital in a day, the meeting needs to start later and give me a break, you can’t expect us to just stop everything to go into the capital for a TWO hour meeting (yes, have I mentioned that yet? Yes, the meeting was only scheduled for two hours).
Within an hour Sarah called me back and said the meeting had been changed to 10 a.m., was going to be at the Hilton in Santo Domingo (which is one of the swankiest hotels in the city, right on the water) and drum roll please… the First Lady was going to be there. What?! The Dominican Republic’s own Michelle Obama! Well, Sarah now that the office of the first lady has its priorities straightened out, we’ll see you in the capital in less than 24 hours. Keep the coffee hot if we’re not right on time.
We did in fact arrive right in time to have hot coffee and soon after the new director of the centers started to give his presentation with all the upcoming changes about to rock all our worlds (the drama was just as thick at the meeting, I promise).
First the “proposed” good changes: All centers will have improved internet service by the end of the year. The first lady said it herself in her speech, “If we expect people to come to our centers, our internet needs to be fast and reliable.” This cannot come fast enough, let me tell you.
Second: Training for all teachers of the centers will be given, at least for this year, on different subjects such as making a webpage and teaching basic computer skills. This has been one of my biggest problems with the current structure of the centers. These centers exist across the country, and they employee local people to work, but there is minimal to NO training. How is anyone expected to teach their communities about computers if they themselves have never been trained to do so? The fact that the new director recognizes the importance of this and is spending the money to train the employees is a great start in the right direction for the future of the centers.
However, and now to only some of the “proposed” changes that have most of us concerned: one of the classes they want to train the teachers in and eventually have all the centers give as a class to their communities is, “how to buy goods off the internet.” First things first, in order to buy things off the internet, especially from the states and have them internationally shipped, people need an address. There is no regular postal service in this country, how the heck are people supposed to get goods delivered to them if there literally is no infrastructure to deliver the goods? Second, as Stephanie a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, brought up during the question and answer time, it is a rare thing for a Dominican to have a credit card. Of course some do, but the average person, especially in a town as small as mine, does not have a credit card. I don’t think US companies are going to let people buy things off their websites based on the honor system.
Next, they want to eliminate the “sub-encargado” position in all the centers. Currently, in all the centers there is an encargado (this is the person who runs the lab daily) and the sub-encargado, who works in the afternoons to relieve the encargado, but has basically the same responsibilities. In order to make this cut, they will have to change the hours of the centers, which for my town means we’d have to cut our evening classes. We scheduled evening classes on purpose, so people who work or have school can still take classes at our center after. Plus, for our center, eliminating our sub-encargado is taking about five steps backward. Our sub-encargado, Mari, is one of our main strengths at the center. People come into the center just to talk and hang out with her. If we lose her, we lose half our business.
Speaking of business, both the new director and the First Lady gave these great idealistic speeches about how all Dominicans, no matter how rich or poor and including the 2 million who are living in extreme poverty in this country deserve a chance to use and learn about technology. And because of this, all services, including internet and classes will be free of charge to everyone. This again, idealistically, sounds amazing. Free computer and oftentimes language classes and internet to small rural communities with limited resources for anything like this is something I as a Peace Corps Volunteer fantasize about. However, and as everyday more I spend in this country I learn, reality is not something we can ignore. What happens when my center runs out of paper or ink cartridges for our printers? Or we need to buy dry-erase markers for classes? The money we make from the internet and now the classes is what is paying for all these expenses.
How is any center in this country supposed to be sustainable (which is the ultimate goal of the First Lady, by the way) if they have no income? Just a small question I have to wonder if the new director has really thought about yet.
On the plus side, the First Lady came to the meeting at the swanky Hilton Hotel and as mentioned above, gave a great speech about the potential of the centers. She’s much prettier in person than in her photos. The lunch at the Hilton was delicious, and for a few hours I honestly felt like I was at some conference in a hotel in the states. I drank apple juice for the first time in six months, which was honestly six swallows of heaven.
But with how much they paid for this meeting at the Hilton, I’m pretty sure they could pay Mari’s salary for at least half a year.
On the long bus ride home, the two people from my center who came with me to the meeting, Selsy (the center’s encargada and my project partner) and Fausto (a teacher at the center) and I had an equally long talk about the fate and future of our center. Although we all agreed this meeting and the plans of the first lady meant many changes, some good, most not so good, it’s still our center. It’s still our community and we need to and should do what we want. In the end, the government can tell us how to run our center, but they don’t live in La Caya. They don’t know or understand the needs of my small community and what is keeping my center alive are the things they want to eliminate.
Just when life starts to look consistent, the First Lady calls a meeting and tells you to fire people. The top-down structure of this country, to be frank, pisses me off. If anything came from our long day in the capital, I hope my team at my center doesn’t take that we have to do everything the big shots in the city want us to do. But rather, they listen to their gut and take what we discussed on the bus ride home. It’s our center, and idealism is great, but we have to combine it with our reality and make it work for our center.
Its September now, which means I have officially been here for six months and I can honestly say it has been the fastest, busiest, yet slowest six months of my life. Life is full of surprises, and what six months in the DR has taught me is to be flexible. More flexible than I ever thought I could be, or have to be for that matter. But here I am, I’m doing it and so is every person on this island- because they’ve spent their whole lives knowing what they think they know, what they can grow to get used to and depend on can change in an instant.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Rainy blog
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any hotter… it starts to rain. My answer, my relief, my favorite part of any day. A few weeks ago, I told the family I eat most lunches with here that where I live in “Nueva York,” gets maybe 9 inches of rain a year (and as my dad told me, even that’s an overstatement). And the rain here is the most rain I’ve ever seen in my life. They couldn’t believe it. Actually, to be honest, I don’t think they did believe it. Today, as the thunder was literally rolling in from the north, they brought up Nevada’s dry climate again.
How do people get water?
Well, we have a river, but it’s small. The water is treated and reused.
With chemicals?
Yeah, but it’s clean and safe to drink. You can drink it right out of the sink.
We drink the rain water here, not chemicals.
I know, but really, I’m not lying, we don’t get enough rain to do that.
Do they grow anything where you live?
No, no, not where I live (in my head I said hipsters, but you try translating that into Spanish).
But they grow stuff over there? (another aside: there is so much US influence in the DR, that most times people either refer to the entire country as “over there,” or Nueva York- as most Dominican immigrants live in NYC)
Oh yeah, of course. I just live in one city of the entire country. Where I live is dry with little rain, but there are other parts of the country that get a lot of rain and grow all kinds of things.
Like how they grow coffee on the other side of the hill but not here?
Yeah, kind of like that.
An update from my last blog: I did in fact have my radio show last Saturday. I sounded awful, my Spanish was pretty laughable, but I did it. I consider it to be successful because 1)it happened 2)it happened without the director of the radio even being there 3)a kid in my community who just graduated from a sort-of technical school in Radio DJ-ology “produced,” it, which paves the way for him to have more say and more work at the radio station from here on out. All in all, even despite sounding slightly like an idiot with my elementary Spanish, I was pleased with the outcome and am excited to do more shows.
Classes are up and running. Last week I kicked a student out of my class (who coincidentally, but not intentionally is the radio director’s son). I was trying to teach a lesson on maximizing, minimizing, restoring and closing programs, and he was being disruptive and rude so I told him to leave. He didn’t believe me at first, but then I picked up his notebook and started walking out the door, he followed. I felt kinda bad at first, but the truth is, I have to be strict here, especially because I don’t have complete command of the language. I want people to have fun in my classes, but I’m also not going to waste two hours of everyone’s time trying to plead with people to pay attention to me in Spanish. After I kicked him out, he came around to the windows and started chanting something with my name in it. I had no idea what he was saying, moreover what the chant was saying about me- but the rest of my class (all two other students) finished the lesson with no problems.
A word about my computer class: the class I’m teaching is basic. I’m talking, “today we are going to learn how to properly turn on and off the computer.” Even though the subject material is very basic, it is pretty amazing to watch these few students learn how to use a computer. Simple things, like the first time they got the timing of double clicking the mouse and successfully opened a program. Or today’s lesson was about the keyboard. We opened word and I had them write their names, and even though it took about 15 minutes because inconveniently, the letters on the keyboard are not in alphabetical order, once they had their names written on the screen and could see they did it themselves... well, it was a very satisfying feeling for me to see them so satisfied.
It reminds me of why I joined the Peace Corps in the first place. For the simple things, like a student successfully using a computer to write their names.
I have spent a lot of this summer trying to adjust. Adjust to the culture, the language, the food, being away from America, my family, my friends, Remi. During all this adjusting, it’s easy for me to forget about why I wanted to do this in the first place. It’s much easier to daydream about home and think about all I’m missing out there and how I didn’t have to leave my own country to make a difference. America needs help too. Which is the truth, and I plan to help as much as I can for the rest of my life, once I finish this little endeavor.
My point is, I think sometimes we all need reminders of why we are where we are, no matter where we find ourselves. Whether we have put ourselves in our current situations, fate has taken us there, or a combination of both- the test is to not spend your time dreaming about the other side. Life is here and now. It gives us opportunities everyday to be successful, happy, to help those around us, to fail and then pick ourselves backup. So do it. Everyday is yours. It’s your life, it’s my life. I’m here, you’re there, but in the end we are all trying to accomplish something bigger than ourselves.
Today, the thing that was bigger than me was having three people in the Dominican Republic use a computer to write their names. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Did I need to leave the country to understand this and feel as satisfied with my life’s work as I do now? Maybe not. But I did need to leave the country to see the most rain I’ve ever seen in my life. I did need to leave the country to tell one family in the DR that there are places in the world where the rain doesn’t fall, where crops aren’t grown, but where people are happy.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Long Story Short
Last week I started my official work as a Peace Corps Volunteer. What have I been doing until this point?, you may be asking yourself. Technically, I have been doing Peace Corps work, like conducting a diagnostic of my community. However, last week I took all those things I learned from my three month diagnostic about my community and began to apply them. (for example, out of all the survey’s I conducted, only eight, yes count them EIGHT people had a computer in their homes) Whatever did I do to apply all this information? Classes. Last week computer and English classes started in my CTC. And with hard work, no rain (when it rains, the people don’t leave their houses) and a little luck, hopefully these classes will get my center rolling, the community excited about learning and the whole world a-speaking English (my-oh-my, are there high expectations for me).
The week, which will be like many others to come, had its ups and downs, surprises and excitements. Expectations were met, others were dropped and my motto from now on is: Take every day as it comes, because the minute you try to plan for something you're planning for the wrong thing.
The original plan, discussed in depth numerous times before last week, was that I would be teaching four computer classes in total Monday-Thursday (two each day in the morning from 8-10 a.m. and from 10-12 p.m.), all at the basic level- which literally means, we would spend a day learning how to properly turn on and turn off the computer, use the mouse, how to type etc. I was told that I had students coming to all my classes, although not all of them would be filled. This is fine, as long as each section was filled with some students wanting to learn about the glorious and fascinating world of computers.
On Monday, I arrived early to my center, around 7:30, and setup for class that should have started at 8 a.m. Eight became 8:30, as we are operating here on Dominican time people, and when the students did finally arrive, I only had two: an 18-year-old and a seven-year-old. I was told there were supposed to be two other people from a nearby town driving in, but they couldn't make it until Wednesday.
We continued with the lesson, which were the basic components of the computer and how they work with each other. I opened up the computer so my two students could see the inside and pointed out the different parts: the hard drive, the CPU, the fans, the mother board, chips, CD drive etc. Something I was pretty excited about the first time I opened a computer and looked inside many years ago.
My students were somewhat excited about this, not as much as I had hoped, especially from the seven-year-old. He just kept asking me, “when are we going to learn how to use computers.” I kept trying to tell him, in my broken Spanish, “hey kiddo, whatcha talkin’ about? This IS the computer!!”
The class I was supposed to have after at 10 a.m., had no sign-ups, a surprise to me, as I was told we had people coming to every class. That’s okay, there’s always tomorrow, and three out of four classes with people ain’t bad. So, the next day, I went back to my center ready for day two of teaching and as 8:30 rolled by and then 9:00 came so quickly after, I finally went and asked my co-workers at the center where the people were.
And the news was there was no news. No people were coming at all for today’s classes, for either section, so if there ever were people who had signed up for the class, they dropped out last minute for reasons I can only imagine.
An aside: a few frustrating things about the language and culture. When I asked my people at the CTC the week before classes if we had students signed up for every class, they told me yes. Now, when push came to shove, I only had two students for one class. I am learning I have to ask myself continuously, is this me just not understanding the language, or is this my co-workers trying not to hurt feelings because nobody signed up to take my class? Unfortunately, I think it’s the latter, as Dominicans are fiercely dedicated to not making anyone look bad (our Peace Corps training called it ‘Saving Face’), even if it is misleading.
So I have one computer class per week that meets on Monday’s and Wednesday’s from 8-10 a.m. Today, the other person from the neighboring town finally came and we did a quick review of the inside of the computer and then I had them draw objects in paint to get used to using the mouse. Three students are better than none, so I’ll start small and see what happens from there.
English classes were a different story. I went back that same Monday of my first computer class to what should have been my first English class. Well, only two students had signed up for the Monday/Wednesday section, so they moved them to the Tuesday/Thursday section. Just when you think you have a schedule; it goes in the completely opposite direction. Hence my motto: Take every day as it comes, because the minute you try to plan for something you're planning for the wrong thing.
Tuesday night came and I had 17 students signed-up for class, most of who had signed up that same day. The class went well, so well in fact that by the second class, Thursday, I had a total of 23 students who had signed up. Thursday’s class did not go so well, so the number may be back down to a cozy 17.
The invesor (this is a Spanish word that I believe translates to inverter, basically when the power goes out here, and it does frequently, the invesors keep power in the buildings. Houses, business, schools, pretty much anyone who can afford one has one) has not been keeping the charge lately, so when the power, la luz (the word for light in Spanish but also what everyone calls power) went out like normal on Thursday, my center lost power as well.
For me, this meant my English class which I prepare through PowerPoint and then hook up to a flat-screen TV (yes my center has a flat screen TV, one of the many random things about my life) would be given completely orally with half a white-board that I have to stand on my tippy toes to reach, in a small room, with no fans in this HOT Caribbean country, with 23 students all trying to pronounce my name Stacie, not E-Stacie. I also had prepared two worksheets for the students to use through class, but without power, there was no printer and with no printer there were no worksheets to help move the lesson along.
Long story short, I got through it, with the help of one of my co-workers, Fausto. He speaks decent English (all self-taught which is very impressive) and obviously a heck-of-a-lot more Spanish than I do. Even though the sweat never stopped, both from nerves and too many people in a small room without fans and I looked more like a ripe tomato than a person, Fausto and I got through it. And the best part is, the luz came back on during the last 45 minutes (it’s a two-hour class) and so the worksheets were able to be printed for their reference.
Overall, I am happy with the classes, although I do wish there were more people taking the computer classes. I have two years here, it will get better. And “todo el mundo,” or all the world, everyone, wants to learn English, so I know I will never be unemployed.
The next day, Friday, my make-shift Environment group was supposed to meet and pick-up trash by the lagoon close to my house. It had rained pretty much the whole day before and night and so the mud made it nearly impossible to walk, let alone clean. We postponed until next Friday and I was supposed to promote this on my own radio show on Saturday morning.
Yes, I now have an hour long radio show every Saturday morning. Or that is the plan, after this weekend, who knows what will actually happen. It’s kind-of a long story, but basically the director of the radio station at my center is an egotistical jerk and wants complete control of the station, even though he doesn’t do anything with it and never lets anyone else use it either. Right now, there is no programming, only music repeated off the same play list, played over and over.
Things finally came to a breaking point with everyone and the radio station and so we had a meeting last week where I basically tried to sound much more authoritative than I really am and demanded that he (the director of the station) let the entire community use the station, as that is its purpose and point. In the midst of all of this, me trying to be strong and intimidating with my 5-year-old Spanish, I somehow landed myself my own radio show each week. Me and my mouth, it gets me in trouble even when I am not fluent in the language.
Long story short, I prepared a whole show for Saturday, talking about what I’m doing here in La Caya (the name of the show is “La Americana en La Caya,” PS), what the Peace Corps is, what I want to do here over the next two years, how I need the help of everyone (todo el mundo), the youth groups I want to start and even a special section on “the two types of trash: organic and inorganic.” It took me like six hours to prepare and I had Fausto go through the whole thing with me to make sure my Spanish was correct.
Saturday morning comes. I am up early, because I am nervous and need to run before my debut on the radio. I reread through my whole show again, slowly practicing words I continuously have trouble with, I go to my center at 8:30 and wait for my show that is supposed to start at 9 a.m. 9 a.m. comes and goes and nobody is here, as previously planned to make this happen. I wait until 9:30, and decide I lost the battle for the day. When I get back to my house, Dona Francia tells me she saw the director of the radio station drive by (which means he left town for however long) on his motorcycle at about 9:00.
The day wasn’t all so horrible. I had plans to go into Santiago after my show to meet up with other Peace Corps Volunteers to watch Harry Potter. The timing couldn’t have been better. Sitting in a theater, watching Harry Potter, forgetting for two hours about everything, was just the cure I needed for a long week filled with so many satisfying and at the same time disappointing things.
Long story short, here is my motto: Take every day as it comes, because the minute you try to plan for something you're planning for the wrong thing.
Despite this, there are a few things I am planning on: more people coming to classes, especially computer classes, my Environment group inspiring others to pick up trash in La Caya, youth groups being based out of my center and you all as my witness: a radio show. I don’t care if I do barely speak this language; I’m getting on that radio even if I make a fool of myself just to prove that when I say I’m going to do something, I mean it, AND this radio station is meant for the community, and for the next two years, that includes me.
Friday, August 14, 2009
A lot of hot
My across the street neighbor is my Dona's brother (basically everyone in La Caya is related to my Dona in someway) and he and his wife lived in the states for 35 years. It's actually pretty incredible, because he worked 35 years in a kitchen (both as a dishwasher and later as a cook) at a country club in Naples, Florida. After 35 years working in the states, he came back to La Caya, where both he and his wife were born and raised, and built himself a beautiful home with all the luxuries one could hope for (minus hot water).
Anyway, I eat lunch at his house with him, Lidio is his name, and his wife, Rosa, a few days a week, and I am really starting to like their quiet and calming company. Lidio speaks fairly decent English and he likes to speak to me in English, because "he likes the United States." My favorite thing he says in English is, "a lot of hot." In Spanish when you want to say it's really hot outside, you say "Mucho Calor," which literally translates into "a lot of hot." It's totally random, but everyday as the sun is radiating on all of us and every person is literally dripping in sweat, I look forward to him telling me this phrase, because it's the most accurate way to put it... A lot of hot.
I have been thinking a lot about Lidio and Rosa's life, and all the lives of Dominicans who are living in the states now, whether they will stay there forever and come back in 35 years to build a Dominican mini-mansion in their hometown.
The majority of me feel so blessed to have my Peace Corps assignment in the DR. Here, people love America. Heck, every person I meet literally has a cousin in New York or Miami. People are fascinated by me as a "Real Life American," and the fact that I actually do and can speak English. Because of where I was born, in many ways I am everything these people want to be.
It's a lot of pressure and lot of building frustration. For example, my community has put great pressure on me teaching English classes (which will start on Monday). Casually, people mention how I will teach English and how "todo el mundo," or everyone will be able to speak English fluently by the time I leave. As much as I would love for this to happen, it's never going to happen. When you don't have to speak a language everyday to communicate with the average person, the chances of you casually become fluent are slim to none.
There is also this perception that life in the United States is so much better than in the DR. And yes, in many ways it is. Electricity 24 hours, clean potable water, hot water in homes and businesses, clean streets, reliable government services like trash pick-up, road repair and even health care.
But life in the DR has it's upsides too. It's a beautiful island and the people are friendly. And even though jobs can be scarce (which is the same situation for the states currently, as we all know) you can still have a simple and good life, even if you don't have electricity all the time or potable water coming from your faucet.
A family down the street from me left last Thursday for the states. They are the second family from La Caya, my small country town, this summer to pack up all their things, leave everything they know and start a new life in the states. They don't speak English, and although I know they will learn, I speak from experience when I say not speaking the same language as those around you is possibly the most frustrating, eye-opening and lonely feeling you could ever have.
I think about these families that have left and how the minute they step on that plane their lives are for better or worse forever changed. Yes, my country is amazing. I am very proud to be an American, for our history, for our constant need to be better, for our standard of living. But living the American dream is not easy. And the minute the plane lands, the harsh reality of work sets in. And that doesn't just apply to immigrants. All average people in America spend the majority of their lives working just to make it. I know that's my plan when I get back. Work. Work to live. Live to work.
I think Lidio and Rosa lived the DR/American dream best. They spent 35 hard years living in the states, doing jobs the average American would never do, they raised their six children there (all were actually born in the DR, but now have families and jobs in the states) and finally, they returned to their home country.
Rosa and Lidio's life is simple yet complete, a life every American and Dominican can appreciate. Success, after 35 years of living in another culture, creating another life in a different culture and country, has brought them back to their original home, where, they can tell the random American girl living across the street that there's "a lot of hot," each and every day.
Anyway, I eat lunch at his house with him, Lidio is his name, and his wife, Rosa, a few days a week, and I am really starting to like their quiet and calming company. Lidio speaks fairly decent English and he likes to speak to me in English, because "he likes the United States." My favorite thing he says in English is, "a lot of hot." In Spanish when you want to say it's really hot outside, you say "Mucho Calor," which literally translates into "a lot of hot." It's totally random, but everyday as the sun is radiating on all of us and every person is literally dripping in sweat, I look forward to him telling me this phrase, because it's the most accurate way to put it... A lot of hot.
I have been thinking a lot about Lidio and Rosa's life, and all the lives of Dominicans who are living in the states now, whether they will stay there forever and come back in 35 years to build a Dominican mini-mansion in their hometown.
The majority of me feel so blessed to have my Peace Corps assignment in the DR. Here, people love America. Heck, every person I meet literally has a cousin in New York or Miami. People are fascinated by me as a "Real Life American," and the fact that I actually do and can speak English. Because of where I was born, in many ways I am everything these people want to be.
It's a lot of pressure and lot of building frustration. For example, my community has put great pressure on me teaching English classes (which will start on Monday). Casually, people mention how I will teach English and how "todo el mundo," or everyone will be able to speak English fluently by the time I leave. As much as I would love for this to happen, it's never going to happen. When you don't have to speak a language everyday to communicate with the average person, the chances of you casually become fluent are slim to none.
There is also this perception that life in the United States is so much better than in the DR. And yes, in many ways it is. Electricity 24 hours, clean potable water, hot water in homes and businesses, clean streets, reliable government services like trash pick-up, road repair and even health care.
But life in the DR has it's upsides too. It's a beautiful island and the people are friendly. And even though jobs can be scarce (which is the same situation for the states currently, as we all know) you can still have a simple and good life, even if you don't have electricity all the time or potable water coming from your faucet.
A family down the street from me left last Thursday for the states. They are the second family from La Caya, my small country town, this summer to pack up all their things, leave everything they know and start a new life in the states. They don't speak English, and although I know they will learn, I speak from experience when I say not speaking the same language as those around you is possibly the most frustrating, eye-opening and lonely feeling you could ever have.
I think about these families that have left and how the minute they step on that plane their lives are for better or worse forever changed. Yes, my country is amazing. I am very proud to be an American, for our history, for our constant need to be better, for our standard of living. But living the American dream is not easy. And the minute the plane lands, the harsh reality of work sets in. And that doesn't just apply to immigrants. All average people in America spend the majority of their lives working just to make it. I know that's my plan when I get back. Work. Work to live. Live to work.
I think Lidio and Rosa lived the DR/American dream best. They spent 35 hard years living in the states, doing jobs the average American would never do, they raised their six children there (all were actually born in the DR, but now have families and jobs in the states) and finally, they returned to their home country.
Rosa and Lidio's life is simple yet complete, a life every American and Dominican can appreciate. Success, after 35 years of living in another culture, creating another life in a different culture and country, has brought them back to their original home, where, they can tell the random American girl living across the street that there's "a lot of hot," each and every day.
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