Dear Grandma...

My first memory of Grandma was when I was about 5 years old. We were at the beach for Easter, and she had hidden plastic eggs in the backyard filled with $1 in change each. Grandma really had the grandmothering job down pat. Sam had his friend Patrick visiting, and I was so proud to have such a cool grandmother. Of course, we had just entered the “Arcading” phase of our visits to the beach, so I know that Skeeball came out of the weekend with more money than I did, but after a couple of years of tickets, I think that I finally got that stuffed monkey, so everybody came out on top.

Grandma and Paw Paw’s house defines my childhood more than any other place, and I am sure that this is true for a lot of people. Easters with Bunny-shaped cakes, Summers digging holes in the sand, Thanksgivings making chocolate balls and decorating the tree on the porch. Their house is always stacked with the greatest food. While Paw Paw definitely is in charge of the cooking, Grandma was definitely the one to go to if you wanted a snack. (When we were little it was Grandma Utz’s potato chips, now it is Cheez Curls.) I mean, you can’t beat ice cream in both refrigerators. There were always people stopping by to say hello too- of all ages. I think that it is safe to say that the Ryans are an institution in Bethany Beach.

Of all of the memories I have though, I can only remember seeing Grandma actually at the beach once. And she wasn’t even on the sand. It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon and we were about to come in for the day, and I saw her standing at the top of the boardwalk, watching the waves. When I was little, I didn’t think about it much, because she was always there sitting in her chair reading or taking one of her classic snoozes when we came back for lunch, ready to make grilled cheese sandwiches or get barbeque from the Fire Department. But now, as I look back, I realize that it was the house itself that was Grandma’s domain. Because while all of us made memories in that house, it held memories too. And even though I never saw Grandma touch the sand, there is overwhelming proof that she did. The glass coffee table filled with sand and sea creatures, the glass whale filled with sea glass- these things served as a window to a Grandma that I never knew. Because, though as a child I never thought about it, Grandma was on the tail end of her life when I met her. As a 91-year old woman, her grandchildren didn’t even get to know her until she was in her 60’s. So much of her life we only know through pictures, knick-knacks on a shelf, or the occasional Japanese words she loved to use at sushi restaurants. So while I didn’t get to see her travel the world, raise her children, walk on the beach, or even smoke a cigarette, the evidence of her life was always around her. And her grandchildren and life in this house in Sussex Shores was the final chapter. I was a part of the end of her life and she was a part of the beginning of mine.

So we are here not only to say goodbye to our grandmother, mother, wife and friend, but also to take stock in our own lives and what Grandma has left behind. She has touched all of us and helped to make us who we are. The Tao Te Ching says, “After finishing the work, withdraw. Though you lose the body, you do not die. This is the Way of Heaven”. I believe that Grandma has finished her work in this life, and I hope that she enters the next in peace and with love. We each carry on a part of her work with us as we move on into the next chapter of our own lives. When I look in the mirror, I see my mother’s strength, and when I look at my mother, I see Grandma’s appreciation of beauty, among other things. Everything I am and I will be I owe to my family, so as we say goodbye to Grandma, I can only hope that I can take what she has given me and make her proud. I love you Grandma, and I will miss you.

The Simple Life

Since being here, I have always appreciated how quickly one’s needs are simplified to the basics. Food and water. If anyone has been paying attention, you know that I have the water situation under control. And if anyone has seen a picture of me lately, you know that the food situation is a bit out of control. So, we have the two most important things covered. So, what comes next? Once I know that I am not going to starve or die of dehydration, I start coming up with ways to make life just a little bit easier. Install an indoor bathing area, cement the front porch, fix my bike, build a sink, etc. The continuation of this process of making things easier for ourselves from a micro to a macroeconomic level is the root of human development. Without running water, you cannot run a washing machine inside your house. Without permanent electricity, an hour dryer cycle is not worth the investment in a real dryer. Thus, these simple things turn an uninvolved couple of hours at night into an all day event, often two days if it is cloudy and the electricity goes out. However, no one in my community is starving or dying of thirst, and on the most basic level, they are fairly comfortable. So why are they less developed? Because there just isn’t enough time in the day to move forward. You’re your day is occupied with the basic duties of maintaining life at the same level. Only once those duties are accomplished can a body set to work on rising above. Families take their children out of school every day in order to help with these duties. Eight-year-olds picking bananas, herding cattle, carrying water from the river on horseback, cooking, cleaning, working in the family store. While we admonish these families for their exploitation of child labor, really, what is the other option? Given the opportunity, of course mothers would rather have their children in school, but sometimes there are just not enough hours in the day. And in their eyes, water comes before reading. I don’t want to be the one to argue their logic either. However, without education, these families are just treading water to stay afloat. And without the knowledge of how to rise from this base level, Dominicans cannot modernize their lives to the extent necessary to find those extra few hours of free time to go to school to get this knowledge. Vicious circle. So really, that is my greatest gift to my community. All of my time is free. So I do all of the things that Dominicans don’t have time to do. I find ways to get them more money for their cacao, I teach English, I play with their kids, and most recently, I teach them how to read.

Joel is my neighbor. He is 13, is in the 4^th grade for the 3^rd time, and he cannot read. They teach reading here in 2^nd and 3^rd grade, but somehow he missed the boat. One of the greatest harms a teacher can do to a student is to pass him before he is ready. Because they don’t teach reading in 4^th grade, and the teacher will not pass him unless he knows how to read. I will grant you, Joel is not a great student, and at this point in his life he would much rather work as a motorcycle errand boy than go to school, but that is because he is fed up with being in the 4^th grade, and there is no one to help him. He lives with his grandparents because his mother moved to a city to work. He hasn’t seen her in about two years. About the same time he was supposed to learn how to read. Hmm. Anyway, no one has time for him. Until I moved in next door. And I have all the time in the world. For one hour the last three days he and I have sat in my room looking at words in “El Arbol Generoso” (The Giving Tree) and learning the alphabet. And what do you know? He is pretty smart. His teacher has already told him that if he keeps it up he will pass the 5^th grade. And that was only 3 days. There are millions of kids who fall through the cracks in overcrowded, underfunded school systems, and I am just one person, so I don’t think that there is much that I can do about those numbers. But Joel is one person that I can do something about. And if he learns to read, maybe he will look beyond the motorcycle and the shoe shining in the park. So this week I found another reason that I am supposed to be here. To show Joel that the world is bigger than he thought.

Movin' on up!

Developing country my butt. I would like to inform all of my loved ones back home that El Yayal is moving up in the world. That’s right, my days of carrying five-gallon buckets of water to my house from the river are over, my friends. Because now I’ve got gutters. I know, I know, don’t get too excited. Let me take you through it. I was in Nagua the other day talking to one of my English students (who is also a truck driver). We were just running through the usual; how hot it is, how rutted and dusty the roads are, etc., when I mentioned that I was thinking about installing a “water-collection system” in my house. Now, the first things I need are buckets, obviously. And not your sissy plastic 5-gallon jobs either. I am talking the metal 50 gallon drums that Jimmy Hoffa sank to the bottom of the river in. And what do you know? Juan is the man who can get them for me. And not just any drum, he is going to find me some good ones. So, two days later Juan and his son Gabby show up at my house with these lovely tanks in their truck, and I am ready to get started. I have already bought 20 feet of PVC pipe, a bag of cement, a pound of nails and 20 feet of “barilla” (I am sorry, my English is no good these days. It is a kind of metal rod that you use to secure cement block when you are building a house). Now with these tanks I am ready to roll. But first we have to clean them out. Oh yes, did I forget to mention that the reason that these tanks only cost $10 a piece is because they were once used to transport blue pen ink and shoe adhesive? That was what Juan meant when he said that he was going to get me some good ones. Because the not-so-good ones are the ones that used to hold toxic chemicals. But I think that you can get those for free, if you want. Since at the moment I don’t remember anyone dying from exploding pens in their mouth or chewing on tennis shoe soles, I think I am in the clear. Plus, my muchachos are all about helping me clean them out. And where is the best place to do that? The River, of course! So, the Environmental Peace Corps volunteer helped her neighbors roll these two tanks down to the river, and with a brillo pad, a stick and some sand, Joel hopped into those tanks and scrubbed ‘em shiny clean. Don’t worry, all of the paint chips and glue bits floated down the river to the next community, so it won’t affect us. Jeez. Not proud of it, but what are you going to do? Anyway, Joel and I borrowed some tools and cut the barilla into 14 pieces (by the way, Joel is 13, weighs 50 pounds, and is repeating the 5th grade for the 3rd time), and convinced Rosita’s brother to help us install the gutters and cement the tanks. Yes, everyone can relax now. In order to prevent rusting, we mixed cement with a lot of sand and lined the insides of the tanks, so I don’t think that I am going to die of disease any time soon. Plus, I am only going to use this water for cooking, bathing, and cleaning. I have bottled water for drinking. Ingenio then cut the PVC into two pieces and bent the metal into hooks and nailed them to either side of my house. And what do you know?!? The next day, it rained buckets, and now both of my tanks are full and I don’t plan on going to the river for a really long time. I am so excited.

So don’t you guys worry about me, I am doing just fine here. My dog, Geronimo, got hit by a motorcycle though, which had me worried for awhile, but he is fine now. Just some scratches. I just did my first long bike ride since I have been here too, which was only about an hour and a half, but I still have to go back. It is good to know that I can get to the town on bike in just twice the amount of time that it takes to take the truck. I am feeling good these days. If anyone has any interest in a bike trip across the DR, let me know, because I think that my bike can handle it. Could be fun. Can’t go into Haiti because I will get kicked out of the Peace Corps if I do, but think about it.

Nothing like a seance to bring the people together.

Well, I have reached a new level of understanding of Dominican rural culture in the last week. You have all read my rants and raves about what it is like to live here, so I will spare you a complete description of Geronimo and I sitting in my house in the pouring rain typing on a dying battery because we haven..t had electricity in three days, constantly moving my chair around the house because new leaks keep chasing my computer around the house. That is old news. Funerals, man; that is what I am talking about. I never thought about it before, but I really think that you can learn a lot from a culture by how they treat their dead. About three weeks ago, my neighbor Carolina came back from summer vacation in Santiago with her uncle Pablo..s family. While it is very common for kids to spend time with their extended families during school breaks here, Carolina went to help her aunt take care of Pablo, who was in the final stages of treatment for what people say was bone cancer. Of course, I am not really sure what kind of cancer he had, because the extent of people..s medical knowledge beyond the common cold consists of two things: 1.) Bad blood, or 2.) Bad bones. Anyway, three weeks ago, it seemed that the last course of treatment was ineffective, and Carolina brought Pablo back to his family here to die. For two weeks he laid in bed, not eating, not speaking- just wasting away and waiting to die. Before I continue, I want to explain that death is the rural Dominican..s specialty. Since I have been living in El Yayal, I have been to over 20 "velas", or deathdays, and not a single birthday. The saying that death is a part of life really takes on new meaning here. When a person dies here, the funeral starts immediately with a vigil through the night and into the day until he or she is buried 24 hours after death. During the funeral, the local deacon announces the schedule for the following 9-day period of mourning that will take place at the family's house. There is a scheduled service every evening, but the week is scattered with other gatherings, religious readings, and events that could only be described as séances where they attempt to speak directly to God on Pablo..s behalf to ensure his place in heaven. All of the surrounding communities, churches and civic organizations are assigned days in which they must attend, though they are welcome to attend more. This ensures that there is an adequate amount of people at each service. Of course, any close neighbors, friends and relatives in addition to attending all services, are assumed to keep watch over the house throughout the nine days, cleaning in the morning, preparing food and drink for the mourners during the day, and tending to the late night stragglers that often fall asleep at the house. From what I can tell, it is somewhat of a contest between these ..elite mourners.. to see who can spend the most time at the house and go without sleep for the longest. Every morning for these 9 days the only conversation in the street and the market is about who ..amanecio.. (watched the sun rise) at Pablo..s house the night before. The ninth day of mourning is completed with the first vela/deathday. This first vela, which will be one of seven held yearly on the anniversary of Pablo..s death, is the most important, more so even than the funeral, and it is when the majority of relatives from out of town come to mourn. This is also when the elite squad is most important, because in addition to the traditional tea, juice, boiled plantains, coffee, etc., velas require that the family prepare a dessert called arroz con leche, which, to be honest, was really the main draw to those first 5-10 velas that I went to, before I really knew what was going on. It is just basically rice and milk with an unmentionable amount of sugar and a dash of cinnamon, but it is a great Dominican version of a Deathday cake. So that is the basic rundown of how death is handled in the Domincan Republic. But dare you ask the question, ..Why?... Well, here it is believed that only by the effort of those left behind can Pablo..s place in heaven be secured, so you better believe that everybody is going to give it their all. They keep vigil, say the rosary, pray, sing, hold services. And then there is the crying. How do I explain the crying..From the moment a loved one dies, the family and all the members of the elite squad are expected to bawl their eyes out on command until the end of the 9 days of mourning. Not to do so is to be considered a heartless, unfeeling, even Godless creature who just may be possessed by the devil or cursed by some local witch. Even before I had been to a funeral, I had heard stories about men and women who didn..t cry at their loved ones funerals. You don..t want to go there. The family clears out one room of their house to be reserved solely for crying. All of the closest family members stay in the room during the night vigil before the funeral, and it is expected that everyone who comes to pay their respects make their rounds in this room. This duty is one that I would not recommend attempting alone. My friend Pepsi waited outside for over an hour because she couldn..t find anyone to come in with her. The reason that it is best to have a partner is because you need someone to hand off to. When you enter the room, you are confronted with a seemingly unending mass of hysterical men and women all wailing and hurtling themselves at you. If you don't work in pairs, you are liable to get stuck with a mourner, and there is nothing worse than pulling away from the hysteria without giving them someone else to grab on to. Luckily for the second tier mourners, once you go through the hysteria ritual once you are exempt for the rest of the nine days. This is a nice clause in the mourning contract, because it allows the family to get things done. Somehow though, through the hundreds of people that come through the house during these nine days, the family keeps a running tally of those who they have and have not cried with. And any time someone new shows up the elite squad has to drop everything, go to the crying room and really let it loose for all its worth. It looks exhausting. I made the mistake of taking a break during a low time one day in the crying room because that was where the fan was, and before I knew it a whole truck of out-of-town relatives arrived before I could escape to the kitchen. I got stuck in there before I knew what happened, and I just left halfway through the crying circle because I couldn..t do it. I was on the outs with the grandmother for quite awhile for that one. I had to pull the stupid American card, or I don..t think that she ever would have forgiven me. One thing about the crying thing that has been tough for me to reconcile has been how easy it is for these women to turn it off. I understand it, because you can..t run a good funeral and wake if you are hysterically sobbing the entire time, but there is just something peculiar about watching a woman wail her guts out for 5 minutes and then walk out of the room and make jokes with me about how fat I am getting the next second. Something about it just doesn..t ring true, but that is just me. Seriously though, the other day they were having a séance in the back yard and this girl was crying so hysterically she started to have seizures/be possessed by the dead spirit of Pablo. Everyone laid their hands on to help her deal with her possession which lasted the duration of the service. After it was over, she got up and started handing out cups of juice. No one batted an eye.If you would like to get a better idea of what I am talking about, I have uploaded some pictures of the funeral. I have become the town photographer, and the ones where they actually open the casket and lift Pablo up to get the good shot are especially nice. You should take a look. http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?Uc=1s2qj9un.7vmk9fiv&Uy=rfxmfa&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0&mode=fromshare&conn_speed=1

Or, if you would just like to see some of my other recent adventures, check this link out:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/50079515@N00/

New highs, new lows.

Well, I ate ants today. To be fair though, they were boiled. I have been saving this package of Lipton Noodle mix for about two months now, waiting for the right time to break it open. Well, apparently I waited too long. I saw the whole in the package about a month back, and though I knew what that meant, I just ignored it, placed the noodles in a Ziploc and hoped for the best. Now, I am sitting here, eating Pasta Alfredo with Ants. If they are really big, I try to pick them out, but a couple of times I only managed to get half, so I guess in a country where you are always fighting to get protein, it is just best not to over think it. Eww, I just found a grub. Grubs are not okay. I am not to that point yet. I think I might feed the rest of this to my neighbor. He is staring over my shoulder watching me type this, and I find it kind of annoying.That is one thing that is still trying about this whole thing. The little kids just cant get enough of the Gringa. There is a little girl that comes into my house every day (Never asks to come in, by the way. Knocking hasnt reached this country yet. To be fair though, I think doors are a recent addition.) named Carina, and no matter whether I am washing my face, reading, napping, whatever, she just sits and watches me. I am willing to take some of the blame though, because in lieu of a sofa, I installed a very comfortable and very colorful hammock in front corner of my house (were going to call that the living room). It is the closest thing to a swing that these kids have ever seen, so now my living room is the new hangout for anyone under the age of 13 within a 200 yard radius of my house (that constitutes about 15 kids on a regular rotation). And we dont want to disregard friends of these younguns, or the kids that just happen to be walking by on their way to the market. I think that the word is spreading. My neighbor asked me today if I would give him the hammock when I leave because he wants to get married. Apparently it is much harder to get a woman to move in with you if she will have to sleep on the floor. I briefly questioned the possibility of investing in something more substantial (ie: a bed), but that seemed to be a little too much of a commitment. I am entertaining building a rope swing out back just to cut down on the traffic, but we will see how expensive rope is first. One good thing that all of these visitors have brought me though is a new friend. Her name is Carolina, she is 17, and she just got back from visiting her aunt for the summer in Santiago, but now she is living with her Grandmother, my friend Andrea, who is just the cutest little hunchback you ever met. Anyway, she apparently is the president of the youth group of which I had heard rumors, but never actually could pin down the existence of. The group was on hold for the summer until Carolina got back, but I get to go to my first group meeting this evening! I am very excited. I talked to her a little bit last night about starting up a youth girls volleyball team, and she was pretty pumped about it. Apparently they used to have one, but it disbanded a couple of years ago when the captain moved away. There is already a boys baseball and basketball team in the town, and they get to compete against other communities and everything, so it would be nice for the girls to have something to do. Every now and then one of them wants to go running with me, and whenever I go down to the river, I try to teach my neighbor Juri how to swim, but this could be something a little more substantial. I will let you know how it goes. Another not-so-welcome new arrival is Pelu. He is Geronimos new friend, and I can not keep this mangy mutt out of my house. He belongs to Caridad, my neighbor, but he is intent on joining up with Geros set-up, as he seems to have gathered that Geros living situation is superior to his own. I have already had to drag him out from under the kitchen table by the scruff of the neck and literally kick him out of the house 4 times today, and it is only 4 PM. I am expecting at least 3 more of these episodes before I go to bed, more if it keeps raining. For the last three days, I have woken up to find him sleeping on my front porch, waiting for either the door to open or for Gero to come out and play. I wouldnt mind so much, but he has this really long hair, and no one bathes him because he is afraid of water, apparently, so he is covered in fleas, ticks, and mud. I dont think that he is a good influence on Gero, who has only this week started taking daily baths with me in the river. He is a great little swimmer, undeterred by the current, and it keeps him much prettier looking and nicer smelling.Another recent development is that Annelly, one of my English students, is 3 months pregnant. She is 17, but she has been married for 2 years, so everyone says that it is about time they started having kids. I went to her sisters wedding last weekend, too. Angeli is also in my English class, is 15, and is now married to a 25 year old. I am just not used to that being considered normal. Everyone thinks that it is completely absurd that I am not married. Another girl in my English class, Glenny, is my age and has 3 kids. The oldest one is 8. I try and tell them that where I come from it is more common to wait to get married until you are older and have a good job, but that doesnt seem to be sinking in. The fact that my parents were 28 when they got married doesnt seem to convince them that I am not a freak. Not to worry though, everyone is on the lookout for a nice Dominican man for me to marry. I dont think that I will have to wait much longer to reach my full potential as a Dominican baby maker. Mom will be so proud.

Finalmente!

And now for the announcement you have all been waiting forI am moved into my house! Sorry, I forgot to take a picture, because I just got my camera back, but they will be forthcoming, I promise. I have to give the majority of the credit to my sister too though, because she finally broke the cultural barrier and came to visit me! She was here for a week, and it was wonderful. I took her to the beach, made her sit in the back of a most uncomfortable van, ride a motorcycle with a very large backpack on, use a latrine, bathe in the river, and sweat her blonde head off. Everyone in my village really liked her too, which was a mixed blessing. Everyone was ecstatic to meet her, but of course I had to hear how much prettier she is than me, and yet another lecture on how I should let my hair grow out. To be fair though, I think that after moving day in the Dominican heat, my sister was contemplating chopping her hair off too. She didnt speak Spanish much while she was here, but she listened a lot, and surprised people every now and then by responding to something, thus indicating that she knew what they were talking about. The pinnacle of the visit was moving me and supplying me with most of the necessities for sustainable living. She was a trooper and very supportive- though I think her encouragement was mostly fueled by the possibility of being able to sleep on the new bed with the new fan. My bed in my host mothers house was significantly less comfortable with significantly more rats living in the boxspring. I thought that might put her over the edge when we were packing up my room to move too. First, I found 4 rats living in my sweatshirt that I hadnt used and had been hanging on the wall for three months. Next, my host mother killed two of them by stomping on them as they scurried to find another hiding place. And the icing on the cake was the nest of baby rats (I am conservatively guessing over 10) living in the bed itself. I guess that explained the pee smell! Allison stopped entering my room after that, and took on a more supervisory role in the moving process after that. Nevertheless, ever since she has left, the standard greeting around here is Hi Eli, how are you? And your sister? When is she coming back? For some reason they all thought she was coming here to live with me, and cant understand why she isnt here anymore. I am done explaining the $500 plane ticket to them, but they just cannot fathom the concept of living alone. I dont know how they can really call it living alone though, since my walls are made of palm fronds and my two neighbors can talk to me through the walls from their houses without raising their voices, but again, I am tired of explaining that too. Now my main goal is to establish a system of boundaries with the muchachos that have taken up residence in my living room. If the door is open, I have at least 1-2 kids in my house and 2 on the porch in full stare mode, watching my every move. Joel, my next door neighbor, is the worst though. Yesterday I literally had to stand in the door way blocking his entrance for a good 15 minutes before he went away. I have already declared my room off limits, but the rest of the house is fair game, and he has been eyeing my bicycle ever since I moved in. Demasiado intruso, according to the neighbors. But what are you going to do? I still need someone to go fetch me things from the market, right? And I am learning who I can count on for things though, and my three ladies who live around me have really come through for me. Whether it is giving me buckets of water until my gutters get set up, bringing me food every day, holding up the shelves while I nail them to the wall, or inspecting my house before I go to bed to make sure that it is bien seguro, I know that Nelly, Rosita, and Caridad have my back. I like it a lot better too, because I dont feel beholden to them, and I can eat whatever I want. It is a much nicer system. I have already lost 2 pounds too, so that is making me feel better. And to be fair, this is the first time I have lived on my own too, so I am learning a lot. Two days ago I installed my own electricity, which while I dont think I could get a job at General Electric, I was pretty proud of. Leon, my neighbor, strung some wire from the electric pole to my house, and I installed the switches, lights, and a plug! Nothing has caught on fire yet, and while one of the switches is just screwing and unscrewing the lightbulb with a towel, I was pretty proud of myself. I was dubbed electricita by Caridad, and everyone was very impressed. However, the next day I sawed a long plank into shelves and hammered all day long, and eventhough Rosita was helping me, Caridad asked me if perhaps I was half man, half woman? I didnt know what to say to that so I just laughed and called her mala. That seemed to be appropriate. Tomorrow I am experimenting with cement in order to make a shower in my house (read: a small wall of cement blocks in the back corner of the house with a hole in the floor so the water will drain in the back yard, and I can pour buckets of water over myself somewhere besides the latrine and the river), and I cant wait to hear what Caridad has to say about that. Luckily we are in the hurricane season and there is a lot of rain these days, so I can put off putting up the gutters for another week or so. I am also having a stand off with my landlord over the front porch, because it is collecting water, and he doesnt want to put a drainage pipe in. I am withholding $60 until he does it though, so I am hoping that I will win. That is about all from the home front, but just to let you all know, I am planning on coming home in December for 3 weeks, so if you are able, I would love to see you all. Also, the cacao cooperative I am working with has started packaging the organic cocoa they have made and is selling it for $4 a pound, and I will be bringing lots of it home with me, so let me know. I packed it myself.

Almost 2 months at my site!

Well, I havent written in a long time, and I apologize for that. I think that you all were getting spoiled while I was in training though, because, while the amount of free time may have increased, access to the internet has plummeted. On the brighter side, it only costs about $.70 an hour where I live, which is much nicer on my dwindling budget. Now for the update: El Yayal. My opinion of this place changes every day. Today was a good day. My project partner and I certified four of my neighbors farms for organic, and I got to visit all the farms in the area. I felt like I was actually doing something for once, which was a nice change. I spend a lot of days doing very little, so in comparison today was monumental. Tomorrow I have a meeting to plan the budget for a fermentation plot the cooperative is planning to build in my community, so hopefully tomorrow will be a winner too. I havent been working very hard on my diagnostic though, mostly because the idea of walking house-to-house and asking people where their latrine is just doesnt sound appealing. I was supposed to start an English class today, but with the certification going on, I didnt have time to make the copies of the book that everyone is going to use, so we are starting on Thursday. I hope that it works out, because honestly, teaching English is really the only thing that I am qualified to do in this country. I felt a bit like a fish out of water today when people were asking me questions about organic certification criteria, I have to say. So at least I can build a little credibility by doing something I actually know how to do. But enough about work. I am also trying to move houses. I just cant handle living where I am anymore. I have actually gotten used to my house-mother watching bathe and change, but I think that my community partner is a child molester, and he really grosses me out. Unfortunately, I dont think that 45-year-old men groping 15-year-old girls is considered a felony in this country, but that doesnt change the disgust I feel when I am around him. He is an egotistical macho idiot who has no respect for my professional position (nor for any woman, so far as I can tell), and I cant wait to get away from him. I found a house that I can move to that is nowhere near him, and I am hoping to move by the middle of July. I will miss his wife, who is 27 and a good friend of mine, but I think that we will have a better relationship when I am not forced to be in her husbands presence all of the time anyway. Plus, it is becoming almost impossible not to get fat in this country, and I really need to start cooking for myself if I want to limit my oil and carb intake. I feel like a balloon most of the time. I hardly eat anything if I can help it, but it doesnt seem to matter. And for icing on the cake, it is considered a good thing if you are fat here, so people are so proud of the fact that I am gaining weight here that at least 2-3 times a day women come up to me, smack me on the hips, and tell me how fat I am. Mom, I think only you will understand how much this bothers me. I am going to buy a scale and tell these women where they can put their beans and rice. As you can tell, there are a lot of different emotions running through my experience here right now, and I have been trying to temper my mood swings by taking breaks and going to the beach every couple of weeks. There is only so long that one can last talking about the weather and feeling completely uncomfortable all of the time. There is a kite surfing competition in Cabarete this weekend, and there is a volunteer trip to the beach for the 4th of July that I have been looking forward to as well, and it is these beacons in the distance that keep me going. Oh, and Geronimo has developed a fun habit of eating my shoes, so that has been fun too. He is teething of course, so I have sacrificed a number of flip flops, but he is growing pretty fast too, so he is still nice to have around. I think I might bring him kite-surfing this weekend. He is getting neutered soon too, so hopefully that will help. Wish me luck.
PS- If anyone wants to send me a package, here is the list I have been keeping of things that I would like to have. Just if anyone is curious:
1. Sewing kit
2. Spice kit
3. Real Tabasco sauce/good hot sauce
4. Vitamin supplements
5. Emergen-C packets (Vitamin-C powder)
6. Portable alarm clock
7. Witch hazel
8. Blender
9. Repel Lemon and Eucalyptus Insect Repellent (works better than anything I have found)
10. Made brand tank-tops and t-shirts
11. Fat-free mayonnaise
12. Nutella
13. Sugar-free iced tea mix
14. No-Ad SPF 8 Sunscreen
15. Map of the world/map of USA
16. Good new music
17. Granola Bars
18. Luna Bars
19. Good books
20. Doggie chew toys
21. Radio/CD player/Speakers

Happy Independence Day!

So, only two weeks before I can move into my house! I am very excited, and I think that Geronimo and I are going to get some cats to live with to scare the mice away from his dog food. There are just so many bugs where I live, it is oppressive. Cockroaches, flies, mosquitos, ants, mice, lizards- you name it, it tries to eat everything I own. And the whole in my favorite skirt cant have tasted that great. To be fair, Geronimo is trying to keep up his end of the bargain by chewing up all of my shoes, but at least he doesnt have as many diseases as the rats.

In the next two weeks I will be working very hard on my diagnostic presentation that I have to give on July 25-27, so I will be at my site drinking a lot of coffee for the most part. I am just finishing up with a nice 4th of July vacation with a bunch of other volunteers though, so hopefully that will hold me through. We went to a beach on the Haitian border called Bahia de las Aguilas, which is one of the only preserved natural beaches left on the island. There was nothing there, either. We took a boat to the beach, camped in the sand, and roasted chickens over a bonfire. It was really far away, but it was definitely worth it. There were about 50 other volunteers there too, so it was really good to meet some of the older ones. I always love going to Haiti too. There was a market on the border that sold everything under the sun, and of course, I went a little crazy. Allison is coming to visit right after the meeting too, which is going to be really exciting. I dont know what we are going to do yet, but I am hoping that purchasing a gas stove for my house will be on the top of the list. She will be my first visitor, which I am so happy about. I have been gone for 5 months now, can you believe it? So officially, this is the longest I have been away from my family in my whole life. And we still have 22 months left to go! Anyway, sorry that this entry is going to be so short, but I have to get back to my site! I will give you more information later.

Oh, also, I posted more photos, so if you want to see them, click here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/50079515@N00/

Two weeks in...

Well, for those who were attempting to enter the challenging Call Liz event in the Peace Corps Communication Games, I am sorry to say that all the medals have been awarded. In first place by a landslide we have Trimble, with a considerable lead in the time trials, clocking in a full week before the silver medalist, and receiving extra marks with the judges for one failed call attempt and a short preliminary call made while I was out to dinner. A well deserved gold, Trimble. Well done. Connor pulled out a strong second about two weeks ago, with an endurance run in which our conversation lasted almost an hour. You all should also look out for him in the Visitation games starting up in August, because I think he may go for the gold in the friend division, as well as medal overall, competing against the family bracket. An ambitious one, he is. Excellent work, Connor. The bronze was clinched only yesterday by a surprise entry in the Year and Under friend bracket. Dan pulled out a shocking and well deserved 3rd place with an excellent and successful call while he was in Northern VA traffic on the way home from work. I am trying to get him to enter the Visitation games as well, but only time will tell. I am also awarding an honorable mention to Austen in the otherwise uncontested girls division, as she claims an attempted, though ultimately unsuccessful, call. While technically unconfirmed, this alleged call attempt gets extra weight as she is in the final stages of her wedding plans. I appreciate your efforts, girl, and we hope to see you in the V-Games this fall. I have to say that the girls have really fallen behind to a shocking degree, sad to say. I dont how to analyze these results, but I do want everyone to know that there is also a junior division that everyone can enter, and that is instant messaging. 1-809-723-9787, look into it, it works! All kidding around, I really appreciate so much all of you have called me, emailed, written letters, and the couple of packages that I have gotten from the front runners have been wonderful. I realized yesterday after talking to Dan that every little bit of contact I have with my life at home really makes what I am doing here easier to handle. I honestly get very lonely here sometimes, and my Dominican friends are of course nothing like the ones that I left in the States, much less family, so every time I get a connection to home, it rejuvenates me and really gives me a great pickup. Also, being able to talk about what I am doing here makes me realize that while I some days I may never leave the front porch, I am in fact doing something of substance, and it makes the bad days seem less oppressive.

In related news, another thing that has helped me with my transition in my community is the newest addition to the Cairns family, Geronimo. He is about 2 months old with a black head and black and white markings, and he really has given me something to connect to. My neighbors brought him to me from only God knows where, and he is the cutest puppy. Of course, he will most likely grow up to look just like every other street dog here, but I am hoping that with a nutritional diet, he can at least avoid that hollowed look. He is very well behaved for his age- always comes when he calls, tries his hardest not to go to the bathroom during the night, and a very loving temperament. We are going through a chewing phase right now that my tennis shoe laces didnt take very kindly to, and we still have a little problem with crossing the road at inopportune times, but all in all I think that it is going very well. As for my community, it is a slow process, and it can be frustrating at times, but I think that it is coming along. Unfortunately, integrating into a community is a slow process that consists of a lot of similar conversations, a lot of cups of coffee and food I dont want to eat, a considerable number of trips to church (is 4 times a week a lot?), and an impressive amount of time sitting on the porch doing absolutely nothing. I have been here two weeks now, and I am onto my 7th book. Dont worry, none of them were under 200 pages, and the 500-some pages of Jane Eyre, which I caught at a particularly dull period, only took 2 days. So, if my previous paragraph inspired any of you to look into package sending, any particularly good books that you happen to have read recently would be very much appreciated. However, I am trying to remind myself that getting to know your neighbors is really something that you cannot rush, and the dullest part is hopefully behind me. I will be starting to write my community diagnostic next week, which requires that I visit and interview every household in El Yayal, as well as any outlying communities, community groups, organizations, and businesses. It should take up most of my time for the next 2.5 months, during which I will also be looking for my own house to live in, which is an exciting prospect. So when the winners of the fall trials come to call, hopefully you will have your very own rancho to come and stay in. Exciting, I know, but dont hold your breath. Nothing in this country is easy to accomplish; it usually takes forever and the process is completely counterproductive and stupid. But I am getting used to it. And on the bright side, I havent gotten sick yet. That will be a whole other blog.

New Phone Number

There have been some problems getting my phone to work in my site, so my phone number has changed, and it will probably change again in the next month, but until then, you can call me at 1-809-723-9787 and it should supposedly work in my site! I am a little bit skeptical still, but we shall see. CALL ME! Trimble broke the ice and won 1st Place, but 2nd is not too shabby either! I think it isn't that expensive, and nobody likes a loser!

A beginning of a new era in which lion and hyena live together to form a glorious future!

Yesterday I was walking with some neighbor girls of mine to fetch water from the cistern down the street and they told me to sing in English, and the only song I would think of was the theme from Lion King. They thought it was pretty funny. Okay, I have a lot of catching up to do. First of all, for those who are keeping track of me (the few and the proud), I finally moved to my site. For the next two years, I will be living in a cocoa farming community called El Yayal, 22 kilometers outside of the city of Nagua, which is on the northeastern coast of the Dominican Republic, just above the Samana Peninsula. I have just finished my first week in El Yayal, living with Rosa, a mid-sixties lady who, though mystified by my inexplicable dislike of fully carbo-loaded meals, is an excellent woman who has been taking care of me in a commendable fashion. She has seven children, all of which live within walking distance of her house. Her oldest, Nia (42) suffers from extreme mental disability due to a very high and strong fever she experienced as a child. She is for all intents and purposes blind and non-verbal and sleeps in the room next to me. Her sister Luz (36) who lives next door says that people didnt think that she would live past 18, but there she is, puttering around the yard wailing for her grandmother that died 15 years ago. Because while she is incapable of forming coherent sentences, she has got some pipes on her, that is for sure. Everyone in the house wakes up at 6 AM sharp, whether they want to or not, because that is when Nia starts her crying. Most of the time no one can tell what she wants, and she is just in a general state of discontentment. She is well known as the town kook, and when she wanders away down the street to where her grandmother used to live, someone always brings her back. The men living with us are Papa and Misterio. Papa is Rosas father, and when I asked him how old he was, he said hundreds, hundreds, which I guess means a long time. He lives in a small shack behind the kitchen that I have yet to find, but he always appears every morning to help Misterio dry the cacao and sit around with me. He is a wonderfully sweet, cheerful man and he has the most leathered feet I have ever seen. He wears the same purple sweater every day and constantly complains about the heat as he sits in the shade under the zinc roof in an overstuffed armchair, baking. While he has only the one shirt, Misterio alternates every two days between two collared shirts always untucked with his pants unbuttoned so that his catheter bag that he pees in and is stuck to his stomach isnt uncomfortable. He says that the doctor thought that he had cancer, but once he got the catheter about 10 years ago, he has been just fine. If he isnt drying cacao, he is either sleeping in his hammock or playing dominoes with me. In the short time I have been there, Misterio and I have become the dominating domino team in he neighborhood. I dont know if it is because I am better at counting and adding than they are, but I am really starting to pick up the game. It is gaining me a little bit of street credit on the block too, let me tell you. We kicked both of Luzs kids butts the other night, and Julia was really pissed. Luz is one of my good friends so far, and though it might have a little bit to do with the fact that she has a big mango tree in her front yard, but she is also a lot of fun to talk to. She has a friend/cousin/relative of some sort that lives in Orlando and she is taking care of her kids for her for an undetermined length of time. Julia is about 13, and Chi-Chi is 5ish, and they are both really really cute. Chi-Chi looks almost completely Spanish, with olive skin, big eyes, and dirty blonde hair, and he is just adorable. He reminds me of my sister Allison when she was little, always running around covered with dirt and just being as cute as can be. Plus, due to the fact that he was born without his right ear and he has pelo bueno (meaning that his hair is not kinky, and lies straight without chemicals or assistance from appliances), his hair has already grown down to his shoulders and he looks like just the cutest little girl you ever saw. It took me 2-3 days to figure out that he was in fact a boy. No one seemed to notice my gender mistakes though. Everyone has been very understanding and helpful when it comes to my language abilities, and as long as I can get my point across and occasionally kick someones butt in dominoes, I am still considered muy inteligente. Yesterday, four people sat in my room for 10 minutes and listened to me read a passage from In Cold Blood in English out loud, no one understanding a thing. They thought it was great fun. This first week was kind of like a trial run for the next two years. I met with my project partner, a very touchy, friendly man who has equal tendencies towards sketchiness as he does to being a really great guy. Only time will tell though. Anyway, I got back from training in Jarabacoa on Friday, got my project assignment on Monday, met with Frank and Cencha, my new host mother on Tuesday morning, and left that afternoon for El Yayal. Cencha and her husband Moreno own the colmado across the street from Franks house, and the room they have for me is not finished yet (i.e., no doors, no bed, too many broken kitchen appliances in there), so I spent the week at Rosas house instead, Morenos mother. Frank took me to visit the school, where, as I was warned by Peace Corps, I had to give an impromptu speech about myself to about 50 kids. I also visited the local health clinic, police department (two guys in brown shirts with guns sitting in plastic chairs in an empty building), and attended a Wednesday night catechism. On Thursday Frank took me with his family to go pick cacao on his farm, which, to my surprise, required me to wade across a chest-deep river in my clothes, something that I handled surprisingly well considering I was wearing the new pants Mom had just sent me for Easter. On the other side I sank mid-thigh deep into a mud pit giving birth to a surprising amount of mosquitoes. As we walked around the farm, the mosquitoes started to build up steam, but Franks niece took it upon herself to assume the job of Americana-Eating-Mosquito-Killer, which was nice of her, it was tough to get used to letting her just randomly smack all parts of my body with a banana tree branch. To be fair though, she killed three at once on my calf. I also discovered a my new least favorite weed- it even looks mean, with bumps and spikes all over its leaves. When you touch it it feels like you have rubbed your hand on raw fiberglass, and I think I still have a little bit of it in my index finger. Bugger of a plant. Apart from the battle with flora and fauna though, the trip was quite enjoyable. I really appreciate the simplicity of wandering around in the forest and looking for food to eat. With Franks machete, we cut down about four plantain and one banana tree, all of which his kids swam back across the river and we have been eating for the last three days. Its nice to be able to side step commerce and know that you would still be able to survive if you have to. I am getting pretty sick of plantains though. On the whole, my first experience with El Yayal has been a positive one. Other volunteers have worked in the area, but this is the first time there has been one in El Yayal, so everyone is really excited to meet me and to have me here. I also think that my new family here is my favorite of all three, which is a relief. I feel really comfortable with them and I feel like we could all be really close. Cencha and Moreno, who I am going to live with when I go back next week, cant have any kids, so they are really excited to have me in their house, and they are so proud of me; it is really sweet. I have also been able to stand up for the things that I will and will not eat this time, mostly because I have had two families to practice on. I think that I have had unpasturized milk a couple of times, but other than that I feel pretty good. I have established a good running schedule, and everyone seems pretty used to it. Most of the community meetings are at Rosas house and the church and school are right down the road, so I think that those will be good places to start. The director of the school has already come to visit me twice, and I think that I am going to go when I get back just to observe how everything works and talk with the teachers a little bit more. The math teacher apparently also teaches English, so that could turn into something interesting. They also just built their own aquaduct, and while it broke the second day I was there, I think that there are lots of opportunities to do good work in El Yayal. Rosa asked me a few agriculture questions the other day (She basically took me on a tour of her yard and asked me why a bunch of things that she planted wouldnt grow, but I think that I B.S.ed my way out of it well enough that she never suspected a thing), which was kind of intimidating, and the task of converting the cacao planters here to organic farming makes me kind of nauseous to think about, but luckily all I have to do for the next three months is walk around and get to know everyone, so we can take it little steps at a time. During training, for some reason I never thought that I would be placed in the East. I always pictured myself somewhere along the Northwest border with Haiti (which I visited, by the way, and it is way intense. Ill post some pictures.), and I am pretty far away from all of my friends from training too, but I hope that I can get used to the idea and start doing some good work here. Oh, I got a cell phone too! It doesnt work in Yayal right now, but I might be switching it out for one that does soon, so you all can call me whenever you want! My phone number is: 829-797-9026, and from what I understand there is no country code, so you can just call me straight through if you want! I am still working on phone cards, but when I get it figured out, get ready for some champion birthday calls! I am sitting on a bus back to the capital right now, and I am kind of getting car sick, so I am going to stop typing now.

Not feeling very creative today, sorry.

Last week in Jarabacoa. We have been here learning about organic coffee, cocoa, fruit tree plantations, vegetable gardening, forest fires, and tree planting. But honestly, we are ready to get out of here. I have loved being out of the capital and being able to go running in the mountains and swimming in the waterfalls, but I want to get started on my project now more than ever. It has been very hard for all of us to go through this training without knowing where we are going to be working for the next two years. We leave here on Monday to visit the border of Haiti where there are a lot of cacao and caf plantations, and the Monday after that, April 25, we will finally know where our sites will be. I will also finally have a cell phone so that I will be able to receive calls, in the event that anyone ever feels the inclination to call me. BUT THAT DOESNT SEEM LIKELY. In any case, I am ready to get going with this whole Peace Corps jank. I am really concerned about my ability to relate to the country folk too though, because I am about to punch my house mother in the head if she feeds me any more platanos and sausage. It is just disgusting, and nothing that I say will change her belief that they are the solution to all that ails you. But they keep you from being hungry at night! she says. First of all, I have never felt hungry in the middle of the night before, and just because you are in a carb-coma doesnt mean that you are healthy. And also, just for the record, coffee is not what you want to drink when you come back from running to cool you off, taking a shower after you get sweaty does not cause you to get sick, and rice is not a good source of vitamins. But try and tell her that. This week at the border will be nice because we will finally be able to make our own food though, so I am going to stock up on my veggies. Crazy Dominicans. Okay, I am kind of tired right now, but I want you all to enjoy some friendly banter about life here, so here is a section from my friend Laurens blog that I thought you might enjoy:So some funny things have been happening to us lately and if you are weird about bowel movements or other not so PC things to talk about then please skip this paragraph. I know there are some of you that will appreciate the absurdity of some of these happenings. So the people in the DR do not get up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. They use a chamber pot which is pretty much a normal old plastic bucket or tin dish that they keep right next to their bed. Well my friend Jen was taking a shower the first week we were here and decided that she needed a good cleansing on her back. Well there was a small little bucket at the foot of the shower that seemed to be the perfect thing to use for the spilling of water on her backside. Remember, there are no shower heads here, just a big bucket and a small bucket. Long story short, the splash was a little less refreshing than Jen thought it would be initially. I really dont understand this cultural norm. They have a bathroom but they choose to not exit their bedroom and use it. Instead they simply lean over the edge of their bed outside the mosquito net and hope for the best. With a tin roof this makes for fantastic acoustics. The other topic that directly affects our well being is our health. Every process that runs smoothly in the states, in the DR, takes some getting used to. The only way Liz is able to function correctly in the morning is to run very early and take care of her business on the side of the road. Without the running she has some problems with her plumbing. Now, I know you are all thinking, why in the world is Lauren telling us all this, this is so gross. Well, I think we are all a little tired of hearing how pretty the mountains are and how ridiculous my life has been lately. I thought it would be nice to here some good old honest banter about some of the things that arent so amazing about this country. I cannot wait for the day when my beautiful mother (and Bianca too) walks into my shack and realizes she has to walk out the back door and into a 3x3 hut with a shower curtain as the door, and a cement hole as a toilet, to use the restroom every time they need it. This will be priceless. Might just be the highlight of my week. Theres Jarabacoa from where Lauren is sitting. Maybe our perspectives will change when we get a location change. See you en la Frontera!

ATTN: Good Friends of Liz!

Jet Blue is offering $89 one-way tickets from JFK to Santiago, DR. Delta is offering $193 round-trip from National or Dulles in DC into Santo Domingo on Travelocity. These are the flights volunteers are using to get to and from the states these days, and it doesn't get much better than that. I will be at my site in middle of May, so start making plans! If you make plans in advance, you can be more flexible with your dates, and come and visit me! (Actually, I don't move into my house until August though, so if you are really thinking about coming, it might be more fun if you waited until then. I just want you guys to start getting psyched! Start looking into it! There is so much to do here.Love you all. Write me. Come and visit me.

Phases

Right now we are in the cockroach phase. Last week was the spider phase, and the week before was the chicken phase. I dont know why, but the animals here, large and small alike, are taking turns making my acquaintance. This is the second cockroach I have found in my bed in two days, and I believe that my leaving the first one dying on the floor for over 12 hours may have angered the second one, because he missed the boot and scurried away. My first cockroach was my first murder in this country, something I was very proud to have avoided during the spider week, as I was very tempted to hurtle something at the Lady Arachne the size of my hand that lives behind the toilet. I have decided that although I understand that my bedroom is free domain for all living creatures, inside my mosquito net very close to my pillow is a no-fly zone, and the punishment is death. Plus, cockroaches dont eat mosquitoes, so they have less bargaining power. Just as the fauna is rotating in my life, I have discovered that my time here also goes through phases. There are times when I love the food and eat everything in front of me, and there are times when the thought of yucca and salami for the 5th time this week makes me want to contemplate ascetic Hindu fasting until I start living on my own in 4 months. There are also times when I love to spend time with my host family and others when I cant even think of how to say the simplest things in Spanish. I am not always happy here, but I am not always lonely either. I guess this really is my life now though, and that is the way that life goes. I am not on vacation and I am no longer in school, and this reality is going to take some getting used to. I only have one month before I become a full-fledged volunteer and get to start actually putting some of this technical and Spanish training into practice. I went to an organic coffee farm last week, and we are going to an organic cacao plantation tomorrow, and experiences like these are beginning to show me what my volunteer experience really could be like. It is also an interesting time right now because Chris, the volunteer who has been helping us with our training, completes his term of service and goes back to Colorado on Thursday morning, so in a lot of ways I feel like I am coming full circle. He had a going away party thrown for him by the Forestry School this Saturday, and a lot of volunteers came into town to see him off, so it was really interesting to talk to them and see all the different stages of their service that these volunteers were in. Samantha is on the upswing- so busy right now that she doesnt have time to eat and has been sustaining herself with Club crackers and multivitamins. Grant is on the downswing- riding out the last two months of his service and so ready to get out of here and be American again he cant even stand it. Emily is taking her project to a new level and nationalizing her Environmental youth program by transitioning it into a government subsidized and run project. Carlos is in the process of traveling all over the island relishing the experience of exploring what it has to offer. Sarah is at a low point with her first attack of giardia. From what I gather, I will experience all of these stages at some point, if I am lucky. Also, I am getting the impression that I havent seen ANYTHING yet, and only the craziest is left to come. Ill keep you posted.

One week adentro...

Well, I have been in Jarabacoa for a little over a week now, and I have to say that I am really enjoying being out of the city. The houses themselves are not much different- tin roofs, bucket showers, intermittent power- but the environment is much nicer. I am no longer living on an off-ramp, but rather on a perfectly respectable dirt road in the countryside in a little pueblo that is called Catorce, which really means 14, so it could be the name of the road. We are about 15 minutes by car outside of Jarabacoa in a district called Piedra Blanca, and it is really beautiful here. It rains almost everyday, so it is really lush, and the stars are beautiful at night with the clear skies. With the rain come the bugs as well though, which were tough to deal with to be sure. We are all almost out of bug spray, and Jen's ankles are actually swollen and radiating heat at this point. It is not as bad now as it was the first couple of days though, so I hope that we will get used to it. I get up every day and go jogging through the mud at 6 AM because the dogs are still asleep, but the roosters are already up, so sleeping is just not an option anymore. I kind of like having this part of the day for myself too, because I get to get around, and it makes me feel more at home. At 7:30 we make our 30 minute walk to the Forestry School ESNAFOR (Escuela Nacional Foresta) where we meet up with our training director, Eli, who is the cutest 40 year old man that you ever met, and another PC volunteer, Chris, both of whom teach at the forestry school. Chris is probably the most qualified forestry volunteer I have ever met, as he has a degree in it and has worked in forestry before coming to the DR, which is a nice treat. His service is up in 3 weeks, and none of us is qualified enough to take his place at the school, but he has done some great work here. He is moving to Colorado to become a smoke jumper for the forest service, which I think is really cool. Everyday Eli and Chris take the seven of us and teach us various things that we will be able to do in our sites. It is the most useful and applicable instruction we have had since being here, and it is a very welcome change. So far we have learned how to: start a compost site, fertilize the soil for a garden, build a fence for a garden, use our Americana charm to get the local farmers to give us free seedlings for our garden, build a germination bed, plant a garden, use oxen to plow land for a tree farm, transplant plantain and banana trees for our farm, make insecticide and fungicide to eradicate a common plantain tree disease, wield a machete for innumerable purposes including but not limited to cutting bamboo, fern trees, banana trees, making posts for fences, splitting wood, fending off amorous forestry students, etc. I should send a picture, because I look pretty badass with it, I'm not going to lie. We have also visited a number of lumber yards and pine tree farms used for wood production, and we are still planning on learning how to build efficient wood stoves out of clay and make natural soil fertilizer, as well as other things that I haven't even heard about yet. We are busy all day long, and are eating a ton because we are working constantly, and it has been really great. I like being in a smaller group too, because I am really getting to know the people in my group. I live next to my friend Lauren, because our host mothers are sisters, so we basically do everything. She has definitely become my best friend here, and it has been really nice having someone around to vent with. Yesterday was the first time I really started to let the life get to me, and it was great to have her here to put things in perspective for me.
Okay, as a side note, I take back what I said about the houses being relatively the same as in Santo Domingo. In Santo Domingo I didn't have to worry about chickens laying eggs on my bed. In Santo Domingo I didn't have rat poop on my dresser. In Santo Domingo termites didn't leave wood shavings on my pillow. But hey, I guess this is the price we pay for paradise, right? Right.

En espanol, como una Dominicana!

En este ensayo voy a escribir en espanol para que puedes ver como va mi aprende. Estoy empezando en la segunda parte de mi entrenamiento manana y creo que sea muy emocionante. Me voy a ir a Jarabacoa, un pueblo en el centro de la Republica Dominicana. Oi que este parte del pas esta muy linda, y este pueblo es uno de los unicos pueblos en todo el pais que puede ganar dinero en ecoturismo. Este es un gran cosa y algo muy importante para la economia de la RD porque ahora la mas efectivo tipo de ganar dinero en el pais es el turismo, y si puede convencer gente a visitar el centro y las montanas en vez de solo las playas y los gran hoteles, mas gente pueden ganar dinero del turismo. Jarabacoa esta situado a la empieza de un parque nacional que tiene la montana mas alta en, no solamente la isla, pero tambien toda la costa este de las Americas. Se llama Pico Duarte, y es por eso que mucha gente extranjera viene a Jarabacoa. Hay muchos negocios all que ofrecen sus servicios como guias en el parque y turistas solo pueden subir la montana si tienen una guia, y esta regla es que gana dinero por la comunidad alla. Dura tres das para subir Pico Duarte, y este aventura es algo que todos los voluntarios dicen que necesitamos por lo menos una vez durante nuestro servicio. Pero eso es no lo que me voy a estudiar. Tambien en la parque nacional hay una universidad forestal donde el gobierno ensea sus profesionales agroforestal. Este universidad es el lugar donde vamos a aprender sobre los tecnicos de agroforestal y tambien continua con nuestras clases de espanol. No se como ser las acomodaciones alli en las montanas, y no se si puedo usar una computadora alli, pero me voy a ver cuando llegare manana y si puedo, escribir y dar fotos de mi nueva casa y pueblo lindo. Ser emocionante tambien porque en las montanas el clima esta mucho mas fresca, y frio tambien durante el noche. Creo que sea mejor que aqui en Santo Domingo donde tengo mucho calor siempre y esta sucia tambien. Vamos a ver. Hasta luego!(Don't worry, the next one will be in English, Mom)

Update

Okay, so that first weekend was a little dramatic. But hey, it made a good blog, right? That is what it is all about. I am sure that I am going to get a big talking to from my mom about it though. Things are feeling a bit more normal these days too, so hopefully she won't worry so much. My training is almost over in the capital, which will be nice, because the worst part of this place is the cities. Poverty is most evident when you are surrounded by trash and pollution and the most pathetic excuses of imitation "Nueva York" that you have ever seen. While the campesinos may have next to nothing in comparison to those in the capital, it is a lot easier to have nothing if you are surrounded by lush green mountains and beautiful flowering trees all the time. This is the new perspective that I have after having gone to visit another volunteer in the Cordillera mountain range last weekend. She lives a very simple life, and I had to walk up a very steep hill on a very small dirt path for over an hour to find her, but it was worth it, because that is what I was hoping for when I dreamed of Peace Corps. She has no electricity of course, but shockingly she does get running water thanks to an aquaduct project a peace corps volunteer started before her. She lives on a ridge in the most fertile and oldest mountain range on the island. Her immediate neighbors are only about 10 families that farm this ridge for cacao, coffee, platanos, guineas (bananas), yucca, cassava, etc., but she works with about 4 other communities that are all over the mountain, but within walking distance. And that is pretty much what she does day to day. Walks. Up and down, from house to house, stopping in to trade a cup of the herbal tea she makes every day from her garden for a cup of strong caf that she saw drying in the yard the day before. The word of the year is "compartir", which means "to share". Because she can't walk by without discussing the weather and the food and music and the local kids with every woman she sees. But that is the way people work here, and they all truly believe that they are her mother and are responsible for her. In this light, it makes sense that they would need to know everything about everything. There is NO sense of personal identity or god forbid personal space. Everyone shares everything, and that is just something that I am going to have to get used to. She has started a youth gardening and environmental awareness project with all the kids at the local school, and is working with all of her mothers on a stove project that will get them to stop building open fires on the floor of there houses and give them a more efficient and healthy way to cook. Spending time with Alison showed me what I have to look forward to, and while I will have to adjust to the pace of life up there, and I know that I will be very lonely at some times, I think that it is going to be an amazing and very valuable experience for me and my community when the time comes. But first I have to learn how to build the stoves. So, this weekend I am moving from Santo Domingo to Jarabacoa in the center of the island close to the highest peak at this longitude to do technical training. We will learn how to use worm farms to enrich the soil, how to combine different crops to increase the efficiency of the crop cycles, and how to build these stoves that have made such a difference for the women in Los Lirios. I hope that I am up to the task, but at the very least I am very excited about moving into this next phase. I will try to keep you all updated.

A copy of my journal: Day 1

Well, I am really here. I am finished with a lot of the logistics and I am spending my first weekend with my Dominican family. I live on an off-ramp on the only major highway in the DR, the Autopista Duarte, frontage road, mile 15.5. If you are in the area, you should stop by. It is a nice place to visit if you are in the market for spare sheet metal, radiator repair, or even a little cockfighting. Dona Isabel is an excellent mother here, and apart from a few minor issues, we should get along just fine. Just to get them out of the way, I will list the less than desirable attributes of my new home:1. Cock fighting on the roof at 6:00 AM (just not very helpful with the jet lag)2. The Dominican idea of a bathroom door is a clear shower curtain. Not as helpful as you might think in certain situations.3. Used syringes sticking out of stuffed animals in the bathroom. I don't know if she is just doing that to freak me out, but it is working.4. The homeless woman that lives under the tree in what could graciously be called the "side yard" is always trying to sit on my lap on the porch. I wouldn't mind, but she really smells terrible.Luckily there are a number of benefits that have the opportunity to balance out some of these minor issues: 1. Freezing cold bucket baths (If I thought that I was going to have a problem feeling awake in the morning, I shouldn't have worried).2. The Red Cross Ambulance and storage trailer is just across the alley from my house. I have never seen it move however, and I think that they use it to store slop for the pigs that live in the dump right next to it.3. Beans and rice. If you ever worried about running low on energy from lack of carbohydrates, you should relocate to the Dominican Republic. Twice a day, every day, always coupled with potatoes, plantains, yucca, or something fried. I think that she would feed it to me for breakfast if I let her.In short, I have absorbed and gotten used to a lot in the last two weeks. The fact that the power only works from 7 PM to 7AM doesn't even bother me anymore. I mean, you don't really need power during the day anyway, right? And running water is way over rated. I will only be here for two weeks more though, and then it is off to the mountains for this Dominicana. And from what I have gathered, as far as amenities go, this is as good as it gets Dominican-style. But the weather is supposed to be really nice there and I have heard it is beautiful, so I think that I will give it the old college try. After all, if you are going to be dirt poor, you might as well do it on the top of a mountain in the Caribbean right? Not too shabby, in my opinion, so don't go feeling sorry for me. I'll be just fine. When I got to Miami, I was worried that everyone would think that I am a stuck-up bitch for bringing so much stuff. I admit it- I brought too much. When I saw three girls walking towards my shuttle at the airport with their one backpack and a guitar case, I knew that I was in trouble. However, I paid my penance in overweight charges at the airport ($200 in total, thanks Mom), so I figure that I should make it worth my while. I won't have to do laundry very often at least, and I won't have to buy much for awhile, so I figure it evens out in the end. Just as long as I don't have to take public transportation to get to my site. Because that just straight up isn't going to happen. If my electric toothbrush turns out to be merely decorative, my parents can always take it back at Christmas. Christmas- that is weird to think about. Almost a year away, and so much is going to happen between now and then. After all, my career with the Peace Corps almost ended in the matter of a few hours when we were in Miami.

One week in....

Well, I will have been in this country for a week starting tomorrow, so I think that is a milestone. I have already had a ton of shots and medicine and eaten a lot of things that the Peace Corps Medical Officer says that I shouldn't, so I guess that I am beginning to get used to it. I can't believe how much I have to say and how little time I have to say it in. Suffice to say, my spanish is getting better, though it is nowhere near where it should be. Also, my Dominican family is very friendly, and very welcoming, so it has been a great experience. My living conditions are "developing" as they say here, with cold bucket showers in the mornings and nights, roosters crowing all hours of the day, and mosquito nets being my most favorite posession I have. (And if you saw everything I packed, that is saying something.) Anyway, I will take some time to write more but I just wanted to give you all a short update before too much time has passed! Oh, and a new milestone today- I learned how to use the bus! I am on my way.

Oh, the terror of bureauocracy

So, today I got into Miami to meet all the new people that I am going to be training with, and I am so excited. My new roomate Lauren is really cool and we had a lot of fun being the silly ones at the meeting. The volunteers run the gamut from meek and shy to crazy and stupid, so there is a little bit of fun for every occasion. Basically it is just a lot of meetings, but there is a lot of bonding too. There is a slight discrepancy in regards to my medical paperwork, but I hope to get it all sorted out tomorrow morning. Okay, I am kind of tipsy from dinner, so I am not really capable of being eloquent, so I am going to shut up and come back to this when I have a better grip on things.

Pre-Departure Jitters

Well, I leave tomorrow morning, and I can't seem to make myself get up and finish packing. I cried for the first time this morning too, which I am sure is only the beginning of what is going to be an emotional whirlwind of a 24-hour period. Mom decided that should wouldn't be able to take me to the airport, which, though dissapointing, is understandable. After all, once she gets going, then nothing will stop me from making a huge scene at the airport. (You should have seen me at Dulles when I left for Prague. Absolutely hysterical, and not in the hilarious kind of way; however, I do think that Mike was laughing at me for making such a scene.) I just have to get onto the plane and it will be all gravy from there. Wish me luck- I will be seriously dehydrated.