05 marzo 2011

The past 4 months...

Moving locations
Since I left you we have moved twice.  Things didn’t work out so nicely with our host family.  We had numerous arguments about how we don’t clean anything and leave our room a mess.  Now, the job of a host family is to teach you how to do things and if you are paying them, which we did, their job is to feed you and make sure your minimum needs are met.  In the situation of a Peace Corps volunteer they should also help you integrate in the community.  Now spreading rumors in the community such as we don’t pay them enough and we are paying other people to cook for us defeats the purpose of helping with integration.  Luckily we have some very sweet people in our community that loved to compartir with us and brindar un chin de comida.  So after the arguing, hearing about the gossip and having relatives of our host family come over and ignore us while we sit on the porch like redheaded step- children, we decided to move out.  After expressing our decision to our host family they told us we owed them more money.  We brought up this absurd statement to our volunteer leader who then explained to our host family when someone pays up until the 15th of the month and moves out on the 14th there is nothing to pay extra for.  Adios host family see you sin vergüenza en la calle.

Somos Orfanatos
Luckily Tina’s orphanage, which is the organization that she works with, let us move in until we found a house.  Our time there was a lot more comfortable than our previous place.  We had a king size bed and internet in our room, ahhh the “normal” life.  We spent many nights laughing with the 80 year old director of the organization.  He made the funniest facial expressions; now he had a stroke a few years ago so I think that helped with making the faces so funny (Lord forgive me), but it was all in all clean fun.  Living here also opened my eyes to realize that there is so much division and gossip in this country.  I think people have so little that when others come around they feel the need to protect what little they have by any means necessary.  Prime example, the director had an adult daughter who lived there with her teenage son.  They did not get along with a young man who grew up in the orphanage who is like a son to the 80 year old director.  Entonces, there is family involved in the business and an adult who grew up there who is like family all under the same roof.  Working on bettering the organization is so difficult when you have no structure with the living situation and family being involved and other people who actually were orphans who crecered in the building.  The training on conflict resolution will go a long way during our 2 years here. 

Our house
Our first night in our home was 02/07/11.  I had the bed, tank of gas, fan and washing machine delivered to the house the day before.  When the stuff was delivered 3 women came walking in and decided to say a welcome prayer for our house.  Now I don’t have a real connection with these 3 women so I was a bit suspicious because everyone told us beware of people coming in your home looking around at what you have and coming back to rob you.  Here in the D.R. I don’t put anything past anyone, including 3 bible tooting women.   All of our belongings were packed and ready to go on moving day for when Tina came back from her in-service training so we could pack the truck and go.  Well, fue bien, now that we actually live here, things are a little different, but we are enjoying are our own space and freedom.  Now that we have a home, one of the jovenes must think we are even richer Americans because all of a sudden she is thirsty, hungry and needs tape for a picture in her binder.  After a few “No’s” this will all die down.  This week we made an outdoor broom (i.e. a broom to sweep the dirt outside).  The handle was macheted down very smoothly from a piece of wood I found.  Then I went searching for this certain kind of weed that grows here that they tie around the bottom of the broom handle to sweep the dirt outside of the house.  Yes, we sweep dirt. No matter what shack you live in at least you gotta keep it clean…right.  Well we are starting English classes in March and other programs for youth.  Are club de madres had there official Juramentacion and now we are looking to build a community center for all the groups to have meetings in.  In less than 2 weeks we will take a break and live it up with Tina’s parents in an adult only all inclusive and then it’s back to the barrio.         

Enjoy the photos of our home...





11 de febrero, Tina

Sweet- just found out that Monday is a national holiday. What is it? Valentine’s Day. Really, DR government?! A holiday?! Dominic was very dominicano tonight and killed a cochroach with his machete tonight. I heart my husband. Also, despite my laziness of uploading my blog from the past few months, when we had consistent internet access, we are back to not having internet, which apparently means you will be hearing a lot more from us. Riddle me that. Also, drum roll please…. We have a house!!!! It is a cute little block house that we share with a little mouse and a few other creatures. We have a 2-part blue front door that opens at the top and bottom, a fridge, a bathroom inside (no running water inside so back to bucket baths), and a cute patio/ mini garden. I went to a volunteer conference last week where I presented my diagnostic and learned a lot of invaluable information as well as some forgettable tidbits. I am feeling really good and motivated to actually start classes and groups since I feel like I have not really done much since I have been here. I was helping out with a preschool doing story time and some literacy projects. I want to continue with that, and I also plan on doing gender-focused groups, a sala de tarea, English classes, and a documentation project, which helps (hopefully) to legalize undocumented citizens in my community. Like many people are pressing for in the U.S., the DR recently changed a law that now states that people who are born here are not automatically citizens, but they have to prove their citizenship, including that of their mothers. This would all be fine, but many are of them are of Haitian descent, who came to this county generations and generations ago, amidst less than desirable circumstance, and are not legalized citizens. Other than simply having Haitian blood, many speak only Spanish, have never been to Haiti, and consider themselves Dominican. Their culture and lifestyles are Dominican, yet they are getting deported to a country with whom they have no little to no connection, including not being able to speak the language. Without documentation, they are denied many privileges, such as going to school past 8th grade, working, healthcare….
Anyway, for documentation projects, we work with local judges and the judicial system to retrieve and present documentation for them to become legal citizens. Lots of work, but it really can change the lives of those involved, or so I hope. I will try to keep you more posted, in real time, about our lives. As for now, things are great, life is great, and my house is great.

26 de enero, Tina

In my mosquitero, with my headlamp on, working on a paper, with 3 cornrows in my hair. I tried to play it off like I have three little French braids in the side of my head, but when my friend who had braided my hair greased the rest of my hair and put it in a side ponytail, there was no denying the three little corn rowed braids. The mental picture I am conjuring is not a letdown. They look that hideous. If I ever get more (God forbid a whole head) I’ll be sure to post a picture). We have a house! After over 5 months apart and living with other people, we found a cute block house in our community, and it even has a bathroom inside! It is tiny, i.e. a king-sized bed would not fit inside the house, but it is cute. If all goes as planned, which it never does, we should be in within a few weeks. Wish us luck.

Dominic and I are still in the midst of completing our 3 month diagnostic, which is what we have been working on for the past 3 months. It will be good to finally start some activities instead of just talking about it every day with people. In our 3 months, we started literacy projects with a local teacher, and we started our Club de Madres! This was a huge success, and the whole community, ourselves included, are quite proud. We held elections last week, and then the elected president and I went to the city hall to process the paperwork. By registering our club, we get some $$$$, which will go toward 15 chairs, a table, and a fan (these are the actual items predetermined by the government). Thirty- three Americans were in town last week doing a medical mission. They all stayed at the organization where we are living, which was pretty crazy. I was able to go with them on some of their daily missions and helped with the translating. We went to the local prison, to nursing home of sorts, and to a batey nearby. I present my diagnostic next week, and I am looking forward to presenting the fruit of my labor as well as to see all the volunteers. Wish me luck!

Early in January, Tina

!Felice año nuevo! Backdrop: sitting in my King-sized bed, listening to bachata with the colmado’s reggaeton in the background, holding a bleach-soaked washcloth over the ringworm (disclaimer: not actually a worm, but a bacterial infection like athlete’s foot, if that sounds any nicer) that found itself on my arm after our New Year’s festivities (other remedies have failed thus far, and the internet swears this will work, so surely it must because like the news, the internet never lies), and giving the finger wag to a devil-child (I am still on the fence as to whether or not devil-child is a literal term for him. I am leaning toward yes) who keeps trying to come into my room. 
The New Year started off with a bang!, or rather, fireworks in Caberete, a touristy town in the north, where a lot of volunteers congregated for fireworks, lots of Presidente, rum, an Irish pub (with $20 pints of Guiness, which I sadly, on my Peace Corps salary, had to decline), rain, a beautiful beach, a fun hostel, and an overall good time.
Things have been a little hectic around here. After some turbulent times, Dominic and I ended up leaving our host family early, Gracias a Dios (my obligatory phrase that will surely weasel itself into every blog). We moved into the organization to which I was originally assigned. We have a King-sized bed, an industrial-sized kitchen, and friendly roommates. While we are still looking for our own place, I am pleasantly surprised how happy I am here. Our roommates include the founder (an 80-year old man who is amazing), his daughter and 18-year old grandson (Puerto Ricans who also speak English, which is sweet), 2 brothers who grew up in the orphanage and have lived here their whole lives (one sings constantly like an evangelical church, and the other is also an amazing man), and another 18-year old who grew up here. Despite the frat-house feel that sometimes ensues, it is good.
The founder/ our roommate has been in the hospital the past week. Visiting a Dominican hospital is a sight in itself. I went once when a neighbor was having a baby. She was lying in bed with 5 other cots also in her room. All the women were hooked up to iv’s. They all had to bring their own sheets and food, including the two 13-year olds (one might have been 12) who were also readying themselves as children to bring another child in the world.  Visiting the founder was a similar experience, and when he came home, we were all relieved. Tomorrow, 40 Americanos are coming for a medical mission trip. I am going to help with translating, which should be interesting. Vamos a ver. I am still looking forward to when we have our own place and can have a little more tranquilidad y paz en nuestra vida.
I had a productive weekend. We are still working on our community diagnostics, which will be in early February. Our diagnostics include interviews, focus groups, and lots of meetings with community members to discuss the needs, priorities, and resources of our community, with the ultimate goal of guiding us into what our projects will be the next 2 years. True to form, Dominic’s is pretty much complete, and mine is pretty much not (i.e. I have not yet started writing it). We had a meeting with the youth of our barrio yesterday. While only teens were invited, midway through I had one baby on one hip, was holding the hand of a 4-year old with the other, and was instructing the kids, por favor, niños, su atención.” My “por favor” was more like a whimpering plea of desperation. Some teens did show up, and we were able to assess some of their needs and wants (etiquette class, English classes, sports, charlas, y yo no recuerdo que mas). We also met with the pastors of our barrio (latest count of churches=thirteen evangelical, one 7th day Adventist, and one Catholic). After explaining for half the time that while we were Cristianos and volunteers, we were not here solely to serve the churches, but to better the community as a whole, heathens included, we received some good suggestions from the pastors. They seem committed to working with us, and I think they are going to be a good resource.   
While I joke about the evangelical community at times, they (as an extremely grand overgeneralization) really are amazing people. I can really tell a difference, both in appearance and actions, between those who are Christians here versus those who are not. Por ejemplo, you are not an Evangelical if you wear pants, wear tank tops, drink beer, wear earrings, or use makeup. You are an Evangelical if you wear flowered, buttoned shirts (sometimes with extreme cleavage) as well as long, spandex skirts (sometimes that show every, EVERY curve). That being said, all of my friends and the people with whom I work are all Evangelical.

29 de noviembre, Tina

Prelude. If my memory were a little better, every blog would commence with a “you know you are in the Dominican Republic when” anecdote. My memory, however, is not what it used to be (now that I am approaching the ripe age of 30) so I cannot allow the luxury of that, except for tonight.
            Blog entry. You know you are in the Dominican Republic when you walk outside your tin house and narrowly miss stepping into an opened jaw of a dead shark, with a Doña squatting beside it with her machete. Not the whole shark, just the jaw bone of a shark that had a jaw bigger than my head, which is saying a lot. No photo to show. Thanksgiving festivities were a little more fun than anticipated, which resulted in a forgotten/ left behind camera in the county club (how prestigious we were!) where we feasted. Thankfully, the camera was found and awaits us in the Peace Corps Office. This is the reason that my descriptive entry will have to suffice. However, the mental picture that I will forever have =priceless. I am a little worried as to where the shark was caught, as judging from its’ head, it was a biggie. My crazy Doña and her machete. She prunes trees, cuts up chicken, dices vegetables, and apparently does dental surgery on shark jaws as well. Pretty impressive. But I digress…So back to why there was a shark jaw in our back entryway (entryway makes the house sound larger than it actually is, we only have 2 doors in the whole house, and they are about 10 feet apart). Our host dad makes sharktooth necklaces and sells them on the beach to tourists. In case you are ever wondering, while admiring a cheesy souvenir on some picturesque beach, where do the vendors live? In my case, they host Peace Corps Volunteers. I should preface this with I have only seen my dad go to work selling these necklaces twice in the 5 weeks we have been with them, so I am not sure how lucrative a profession it is, in case you had not already surmised that.
Living with a host family has been interesting, to say the least. I miss having my own home, and while I am eternally grateful for the host families I have had, I cannot wait to live with Dominic alone. While being in a new county, without speaking the language or understanding a thing about the culture (yes, but WHY is there no garbage system nationwide. Yes, but WHY can I not have cold water with soup. Yes, but WHY are child abuse and animal abuse socially and culturally accepted. Yes, but WHY…), having the comfort of a host family has been a saving grace. From being corrected on my Spanish by 4-year olds to learning how to flush a toilet without running water (which, by the way, I have mastered the bucket flush), host families provide a good and humbling gateway into la vida dominicana, mas o menos. I am not surprised that I am treated like a child at times. I must seem extraordinarily comical to them most of the time. Por ejemplo, hanging on my wall, next to my photos and headlamp, is a posterboard with a glorified stick figure labeled with body parts. Much like a 5th grader would create for bones of the body, except mine is for adults learning Spanish. El pecho=chest/ El ombligo= belly button. La cara= face…). I also have one for the bathroom and kitchen, all handmade by yours truly. You would think I would be fluent by now with all of these helpful visual aides. And I really did have to ask my Doña how to flush a toilet. This was when we were in Constanza. Vitamin B apparently helps to ward off mosquitoes. Judging from my insane amounts of bites, I am not sure how helpful it is, but I keep reminding myself that it can always get worse with these bites, so I take vitamin B religiously, even if I doubt the efficacy of it. Anyway, vitamin B makes urine look neon yellow, as if Mountain Dew and yellow food coloring had a baby in the toilet. Anyway, I had urinated and was trying to ask my Doña if I needed to flush the toilet when I peed (you know, if it’s yellow, let it mellow…. ). I had only been in county 3 weeks, and my Spanish was terrible. Needless to say, when I attempted to ask this question, she gave me a puzzled look, looked at the toilet, looked at my urine, looked back at me, and flushed the toilet with the handle. Voila. Ahhhh, la vida dominicana.