La Quinceañera

I went to a quinceañera on Saturday night. Quinceañeras is like the Spanish equivalent of a Sweet Sixteen birthday party, except for 15 year olds. Boys don’t really have them, and the girls use them as an excuse to dress up and dance with all of their friends. This was my first one in Baoba (birthday parties are extremely rare because the families here don’t have enough money to spend it frivolously on a party), so I was excited to attend.

Yaritza, the birthday girl, told us the party was to start at 4 in the afternoon. This was a little depressing because I teach my English class at 5 so I gave her my regrets and told her that I couldn’t make it. Yamel and Elizabeth (two girls, who were also invited to the party, yet were in my English class) and I stopped by Yaritza’s house at 4:15 on the way to the English class. Yaritza, decked out in a full-length gown, was getting her hair and makeup done by a friend and the rest of the family was busy putting up pink and white balloons all over the house. We wished Yaritza good luck and then went to class.

After the English class, at 6:30 pm, we passed by Yaritza’s house. The party still hadn’t started! So we decided to stick around and wait to celebrate the quinceañera. It was dark outside, and there was no electricity this night, but the Yaritza’s family had borrowed a generator. About 15 kids had gathered at the house, all eager to dance and eat cake, but the generator wouldn’t start. So everyone just sat there complaining about the fact that there was no music for at least 30 minutes. Then I kicked into volunteer/party host and announced that we should play a game while we waited for either the generator to work or the lights to come back on.

I had no idea what game we could all play, but luckily they had already planned one. The game was kind of like a sexier version of high school superlatives. There were two bags (one for the boys and one for the girls) full of various characteristics like “prettiest smile” or “smartest.” A boy and a girl had to each pull out a characteristic from the bag and then kiss (preferably on the cheek since I was playing as well) a member of the opposite sex that fit that particular description. I won for “best hair” (I was the only blonde), “best eyes” (they were the only blue ones), “person who likes to be alone the most” and “person who dresses the most old-fashioned.” I also voluntarily won for “ugliest” because I simply couldn’t believe that someone was going to get called out for that, so I quickly told the boys to choose me for that one.

After the game, which lasted about an hour, they lights still hadn’t come back on. So we all gathered around the candles to eat a snack of two saltine crackers, a glass of soda and a lollipop per person (that’s a little different than the food at our American birthday parties, right??) There was also a cake, but the custom generally is to cut the cake the next day and pass it out to everyone who came to the party. I happened to get gypped and Yaritza never brought me cake, which to be honest, made me a little upset.

By this time, the boys had figured out how to make the generator work, so we cranked up the reggaeton music and everyone danced until about 9:30 p.m., and then everyone left.

La Brujeria

Kirsi está mala. My neighbor, Kirsi, is sick. She’s 26 years old and just had her first child this past March. About 3 months ago, Kirsi began to feel sick. Her entire body hurt, she was nauseas and dizzy and tired all day. Basically she didn’t feel like doing anything, but luckily she lives with her parents and younger siblings so they all help take care of baby Yunilka.

They have taken her to the clinic in Nagua numerous times, and each time the doctors run all sorts of bloodwork and analysis and can’t ever find anything wrong with her. The last time she went to the clinic, the doctor told her that it was a mental thing, a problem with anxiety, and they should take her to see a psychiatrist.

My (un)professional opinion is that she has post-partum depression. While she has her family’s help in taking care of the baby, she lacks support from the baby’s father, Yunior. She and Yunior have been together for 3 years. However he still lives in Nagua with his wife and children. He comes to visit Kirsi about two days a week, but this wouldn’t really be my ideal relationship, and I’m sure it’s not hers either. And having children and taking good care of them is such an important part of a woman’s life here that I imagine it can be stressful if a woman feels like she’s not quite up to the job.

She, her family and the town of Baoba think she has been possessed by an evil spirit (a spell cast by her boyfriend’s wife). I went, along with four older women, to Kirsi’s house to pray for her. It was basically an informal exorcism, where we all prayed for the evil spirit to leave Kirsi’s body. It was very moving, and after the prayers, she seemed to be healed. The women said that their exorcism worked. However I think it was just helpful for Kirsi to know that these women were praying for her and loving her and supporting her.

But now Kirsi is feeling the same symptoms again. The family doesn’t want to take the doctor’s advice and take her to see a psychiatrist because “ella no está loca.” I tried to explain that sending her to a psychiatrist does not mean that she’s crazy, that even I have been to see a psychiatrist because of a problem with anxiety, but they are not interested. What they are interested in is taking her to see a witch so that she will cure the evil spirit that haunts Kirsi’s soul.

The belief in la brujeria (witchcraft) is extremely common here in the Dominican Republic, especially in the small campos, like Baoba. Just today, one of my kids pointed out an older woman to me. “Ella es una bruja,” she told me. I asked how she knew that this woman was a witch, and her response was that her feet were burned. Apparently the rumor is that this woman was flying in the night and someone was cooking on the fogon (outdoor stove) and when the woman flew over the fogon, she burned her feet.

Hopefully Kirsi will feel better soon. Although if she is cured soon after visiting the witch, everyone in Baoba is going to tell me “I told you so” because I have been so vocal in my non-belief in witchcraft and superstitions.

While The Cat's Away...

I had to go to Santo Domingo on Wednesday morning for an appointment with the American embassy to get my green card (I’m one step closer to coming home! Yay!). However the trip meant that I would miss my Wednesday night Escojo meeting. Four of the girls were going to teach the rest of the kids about sexually transmitted diseases and HIV/AIDS, and I had faith that everything would go smoothly without me there. Remember, my goal is that the group continues even after I leave here, so this would be great practice to see if the group really could function on its own. Upon my return, the girls immediately pounced on me, eager to tell me about all of the drama that happened while I was away. I now have my doubts about the longevity of the group. Ok, here’s what happened:

Four girls were scheduled to give the charla on HIV/AIDS and sexually transmitted diseases. I have a manual with all of the information and they had supposedly been studying the material all week. Before I left I went to Marlene’s house to give her all of the supplies she needed and answer any questions that she might’ve had. She told me not to worry, that she had it completely under control.

The charla was at 7 pm. Every Wednesday night our Escojo meetings start right on time. After me being here a year, the kids have now learned that I am punctual and still work on American time. I don’t believe in this silly Dominican schedule where everything starts about an hour after it’s supposed to. About a handful of Escojo members showed up at 7, and the four girls who were in charge of the presentation in my absence, told them that tonight there would be no charla, that I had canceled it. So those people left. Sandy (my co-leader) showed up around 7:30 and told the girls that of course there would be a charla tonight and that it was up to them to give it. The girls later told me that they thought Sandy was jealous of my leadership, and he wanted to prove to me that he could hold a successful Escojo meeting without me.

So the girls started giving the charla. Although they have known about this presentation for over a month and have had all of the materials to study for a week, not one of them practiced beforehand. So they read from the book. Elizabeth (11 years old) is a slow reader, and the kids in the group weren’t paying attention to her reading. So Marlene (19) ripped the book from Elizabeth’s hands and told her “Lauren said you don’t know how to read, so I’m going to read it for you.” Elizabeth ran to her house crying. About five minutes later, Elizabeth’s mom Nila marches up to the group, grabs her son Brian and says “You’re going home Brian. These whores(!!!) don’t know how to properly give a charla and you’re not going to stay and listen to this disaster.”

The girls that Nila called whores are her nieces (by marriage), so basically this started a family feud with about everyone in my neighborhood since everyone is related. I went house to house, explaining that it was my fault, that I shouldn’t have left the group alone without a leader. I talked to Elizabeth and Nila and explained that maybe it would’ve been better if Nila talked to the girls in private and not called them whores in front of every other member of the Escojo group. And I explained to the other girls that everyone is in the group to learn, so maybe it would’ve been better if they were more patient with Elizabeth and helped her with her reading. Everyone apologized, and the family is now reunited.

A Frog Went A-Courtin'

Have I mentioned how almost every guy here in Baoba “is in love with me.” I am not being vain. It’s the truth. Of course most of them haven’t even said one word to me, but they see a blonde haired, blue-eyed American running in her knee-length shorts in the morning, and they are immediately hooked. Basically I ignore all of the catcalls and whistles because the guys who I really care about and who know me, they know I don’t like the attention. And sometimes I resort to my sassiness and tell the tigueres why their behavior is disrespectful. It’s easy to be sassy when the guys are cocky and rude, but I have now been faced with an even more difficult situation: there are nice guys that like me too, and I can’t bring myself to be rude to them. This leads to the courting process as they try to get me to fall in love with them. I have an example.

Yovani is 21. He’s a really nice guy. He knows a few English words and is in my latest English course. He also has a 2 year old daughter (sidenote: the daughter is a hermaphrodite and just recently went to the capital to remove her boy genitalia to officially make her a girl). He left high school before graduating and occasionally works harvesting coconuts. He’s not really my type (but that I mean I’m not into guys who are younger—and shorter—than me, have kids, did not graduate from high school and lack a reliable source of income).

The courting process started with him crashing my dominoes game and kicking out whoever my partner was so that we could be partners. This actually happens a lot. A guy sees me playing and wants to be my partner so that in the case that we win, he can say something cheesy like “we just understand each other, we make a great team, etc, etc.”). I didn’t really make anything of it until he started visiting me in my house. He would always visit in the early evening, around 6 pm, and there would always be other kids hanging out in my house, but there was a huge signal that perhaps he was looking for something more. Sitting on the front porch at night with someone of the opposite sex basically means that the couple is dating or about to date. And he would always bring me a little gift. During the courting, the boy always brings the girl some little gift to accompany the porch sitting time. Yovani would bring me gum and ice cream, and coconuts….lots and lots of coconuts.

I didn’t want him visiting me at night because I didn’t want the community to talk about “my new boyfriend” and also didn’t want to give the wrong impression and lead him on. So I asked a couple of 18 year old boys what I should do. I didn’t want to offend Yovani by telling him that I didn’t want him to visit me. He was a student in my English class and my job as a Peace Corps volunteer is to not shun anyone away. The boys told me that I should lie and tell him that I have a boyfriend. But if I used that lie, I would have to say that the boyfriend was someone in Baoba because if the boyfriend doesn’t live here, Yovani (like all Dominicans) wouldn’t feel threatened and would of course continue his visits. I think the boys I was talking to just wanted me to use one of them as my fake boyfriend so that they could tell people we were dating.

So Yovani came over one night with one of his friends. I was playing cards with Brandy, my 8-year-old neighbor. Because he was with his friend, I wasn’t going to say anything about him not visiting me because I didn’t want to embarrass him. But then Yovani started asking me if he could bring over this wine for us to drink. And later when some of my girls were over here, we were all talking about condoms and how to use them because I had just given them the presentation for Escojo. And Yovani asked me how old I was when I first used a condom. I was speechless. But Dominicans are blunt, and he is no different (sidenote: I was at a funeral once and the lady who was sitting next to me – who I did not know – asked me if I was a virgin. Dominicans say what they are thinking with no respect to whether it is appropriate or not).

So after the wine and condom comments, I felt like this game could not continue. I told Yovani that he was welcome to visit me anytime he wanted during the morning or afternoon, but he could not come visit me at night. I said that people were gossiping about me (which may or may not have been true- I hadn’t heard anything, but that doesn’t mean much), and that I had to protect my reputation. He told me that he understood and since then has stopped by a few times to say hi, but never at night. And he’s still in my English course, so everything seems to have worked out okay. His feelings weren’t hurt, and I no longer have to feel uncomfortable with him visiting me.

Paseo

I mentioned briefly in my last entry that I have been doing some traveling with Dominicans lately. For some reason, various families keep inviting me to spend the day with them as they travel the country. And of course I keep accepting the invitations.

Las Galeras, Samaná

The first invitation I received was from Sofia and Miguel. They’re my 50-year-old neighbors, and both of them grew up and met in Las Galeras, Samaná. They have five children (26, 24, 22, 16, and 14 years old) and all of them were born in Las Galeras before Sofia and Miguel moved to Baoba. Up until this trip, 13 years had passed since the entire family had returned to Las Galeras. 15 (children, grandchildren, and a few family friends) of us piled into a pickup truck and we made the 3-hour trip to Miguel and Sofia’s hometown.

One of the most interesting things about the trip I noticed was how everyone was dressed. For those of you who don’t know, Dominicans absolutely love to look their best. I was dressed comfortably in jeans, flip flops and a sleeveless shirt, but all of them were dressed to impress with stilettos and tight, sexy outfits. However the minute we arrived, they all went to change into more comfortable, everyday clothes. So the only people who saw them all dressed up were the same ones who were traveling with us. This seemed a little ridiculous to me, but oh well.

During the day, Sofia toted me around to all of her family members and old friends, bragging that she was now friends with the Americana. I didn’t mind this because people kept wanting to impress me so they kept giving me stuff: rice, beans, milkshakes, oranges, peanuts and a bunch of bananas. It was great. And around 4 o’clock we all piled back into the truck to get back to Baoba in time for them to watch their telenovelas (nighttime Dominican soap operas).

Santo Domingo

The next paseo was to the capital, Santo Domingo, with Valerio and his family. (Sidenote: Valerio is the guy that shot off his gun at the Patronales festival in one of my previous blog entries.) I have been to the capital many times and I always dread the long trip, but this was my first time going in a private car. Not having to deal with public transportation for the first time here seriously changed my whole perspective of the city.

We took the scenic route, stopping at various “attractions,” one of them being a Catholic church that has the statue of a Jesus that apparently does miracles. I took pictures of the statue and of a Jesus on the crucifix because they told me to. It was then that I realized that I was invited to share this family vacation with them because I own a camera.

Once arriving in the city, we went straight to the zoo. We ate lunch standing in the parking lot (chicken and various vegetables that Sylveria, Valerio’s wife, had cooked the night before), and then were ready to go. The zoo was okay. It was a much smaller zoo than most of the ones in the US, and a lot of the animals' cages seemed too small for them. But we got to see about 15 different animals, so that was cool. Seriously, the animals in the zoo were: 2 lions, 3 tigers, a bear, 2 rhinoceroses, 3 monkeys, 2 chimpanzees, 5 snakes, 4 hippopotamuses, 3 ostriches, 2 crocodiles and a bunch of pigeons, flamingos and water buffalo (or as Valerio called them- “weird-looking cows”).

After the zoo, we went to the aquarium, which was basically just a bunch of fishbowls. There were two sharks and two turtles, but every other animal in the aquarium was some type of fish. And I believe that if you’ve seen one fish, you’ve seen them all. Valerio and his family were all amazed by a rare species called the “Pescado Gato” and they were even more amazed when I told them that Dad used to fish for them in my grandparent’s lake house and then eat them.

One interesting thing about both the zoo and the aquarium was that they each had two separate entrance fees: one for Dominicans and one for foreigners. For the zoo, the price for the foreigners was three times the local price, and the price was double for the aquarium. So I basically just hid in a corner while Valerio bought all the tickets, so people wouldn’t know I was a foreigner. I don’t know if you all are aware, but my pasty white skin tone tends to stand out in this country of beautifully tan brown people.

And the last attraction before heading back to Baoba: riding the metro! President Leonel Fernandez apparently decided that the one thing his developing country was lacking was a metro. He spends only 2% of the national budget on education (this includes paying teachers salaries, building new and repairing old schools, buying books, etc.), yet he has somehow found billions of dollars to fund this cool transportation system in the capital.

This was my first time riding the Dominican metro, and it was definitely the first time riding “el tren” for Valerio and his family. (It was also the first time they had ever ridden an escalator, and watching them hesitantly step onto the moving platform was a very amusing experience for me.) Before all of the girls got on the metro, they all sprayed themselves with perfume and touched up their lipstick, powder and eye liner. They all wanted to look GOOD before this big adventure. And they absolutely loved it. We bought one ticket (40 pesos= $1.25 US) and just did a round trip and rode through all of the stops until we arrived back to where the pickup truck was parked. After the metro trip, it was 5 o’clock, so we called it a day and headed back to Baoba.

Family Spotlight: Chavela y her grandchildren

Broken families are such a common occurrence here in Baoba. They’re common in all parts of the country, but even more so in Baoba because it is a coastal town. When Dominicans think of the United States or of Puerto Rico, they think of a better life for them and their families. Therefore many people leave in yola (illegal boat crammed full of Dominicans) to get to the US and send money back to their families here in Baoba.

One of those people is Fabiana, the mother of three of the kids in my youth group: Meri (19 years old, went with me to the Escojo Regional Conference in Jarabacoa last May), Yan Carlos (17 years old, has a crush on my sister Jordan) and Yoansi (16 years old, troublemaker). Meri is finishing high school in a special program that puts her junior and senior year together. Yan Carlos is a sophomore and I can tell he is just itching to leave school and start working. And Yoansi is in 7th grade…imagine 16 years old and in seventh grade! He has a lot of problems with school and with bad behavior and I think it’s due to his mom leaving when he was 11. He was the youngest when she left so he’s had to deal with basically growing up without a mom. Fabiana lives and works in New York City, and has been there for the past 5 years old.

It’s very hard to find work here in Baoba, and Fabiana left because she thought she could better provide for her family if she was getting paid in dollars. When I look at Yoansi’s problems with school, I often wonder if it’s worth it. Which is better- to have your kids grow up with parental love, support and discipline or send money to them?? It’s such a hard choice, and it’s a choice that almost all of the families here have to make. They almost always choose the money.

The three kids live with their grandmother (and my domino partner) Chavela. And I actually live in Fabiana’s house (if she ever gets caught and sent back here by US immigration). Let’s all hope she doesn’t get sent back here until after next November because otherwise I will be needing a new place to stay.

Piolin, the kids’ father, lives here in the Dominican Republic, in Puerto Plata. But as Yan Carlos explained to me, he is their father and not their dad. He helped to conceive the kids, but after that he has not done anything to support them. Fabiana sends them about $50 each month (sometimes less, depending on how her tips working in a bar are that month) and all of that money goes to Chavela to pay for the food. If the kids want anything special- shoes, clothes, school supplies – they call their mom and hope she sends them more money or they hit up their aunts or uncles for spare cash.

There have been a couple of times where they have been unable to go with me on a trip because they can’t afford the 50 pesos (about $1.50). I have offered to pay for them to go, but their pride and stubbornness refuses to let them accept the money. (It’s actually very ironic here that the people to whom I want to give money never accept it, and the people to whom I refuse to give money never stop asking.) I do however constantly send over whatever platanos or bananas grow in my front yard. Technically, as the renter, the plants and trees are mine. But I don’t eat that much, so I feel better sending food their way.

Another reason why Fabiana left was because she was dating a yola-captain. I’m not sure if she was dating him because he could give her a free ride (passage on a yola is usually extremely expensive) or if he gave her a free ride because she was dating him, but either way, they started dating and then left for a better life in the US. After about two months in New York, she broke up with him. And here’s the shocker…he sent an assassin to kill her! She found out about the plan, paid off the assassin when he came asking “where is Fabiana,” and everything turned out alright, but geeez what drama!

Quick Update

I'm here at a internet center and don't have much time. However I feel guilty if I'm every on the computer and don't update my blog, so here's a quick rundown on what's going on in my life right now.

I still have my Escojo (sex-ed course) group, meeting every Wednesday night. Now there are a lot more kids that want to join the group, so I'm reteaching the course. But there's a catch: I, personally, am not teaching the course again. The kids who have already graduated from the course are going to teach the entire course to the newbies. We'll see how that goes. And in October, I'm taking two kids (Frank and Nanci) to Santo Domingo for the 5th Annual National Escojo Conference.

I am tutoring about 8 kids (one hour a day, two days a week) in basic reading and math skills. This is going a lot better than my summer school because I only have to deal with one kid at a time.

And English class has restarted. I really did not want to teach english again, but the people here have not stopped bugging me. So it's another basic english class. It's set to last two months, and the kids probably won't learn anything except "hello. how are you?" And judging from how the last course went, I'll be very frustrated by the time the course is over. But luckily, the course ends just one week before I am headed on a plane to the US! YAY!!

And I have been traveling. I went down south to Barahona with about 15 girls to celebrate another volunteer's upcoming wedding. We had a makeshift bachelorette party, peace-corps style, and lots of time at the beach. It was the first time here that I've really felt like I was on vacation, so that was nice. And I also went out to Samana with a few of my Dominican neighbors. About 20 of us climbed in the back of a pickup truck to meet Sofia and Miguel's family, who live in Las Galeras. Pictures of both of these events are posted online.

Celebrando el Cibao

Yuliana, Henri and I just returned from spending three days in Jarabacoa at the Celebrando el Cibao camp (August 24-26), and everything ran smoothly. A lot of what we taught the kids seems like common sense, things that Americans learn at an early age, but here the whole “thinking-outside-the-box (or in this case, island) doesn’t really exist. Here is a quick rundown of what we did and what the kids (hopefully) learned:

• A presentation on water contamination. We talked about all of the pollutants that can be in a river, even in a river that looks clean and clear (washing motors in the river, dumping laundry and dishwashing detergent, trash, flea-ridden dogs swimming, etc.) and how we can prevent those things from occurring. Then we all went down to a river and swam for a couple of hours.
• A gameshow called “Quien es ese Americano?” (who is this american?). The kids were given descriptions of one of the 22 volunteers that were there and had to guess who it was. An example: this volunteer was born in Tennessee, her parents were born in China, she studied social work, and wants to be a doctor when she leaves Peace Corps…who is this American??? Afterwards, we all pointed out in what state we lived and what countries our families are from. Everyone in the Dominican Republic thinks that America equals “Nueva Yol” (New York), so it was good to explain that the United States is a lot bigger than just that one part. And after explaining that our families all emigrated from different countries and we all therefore have different backgrounds, one girl asked us if we were satisfied with the diversity in the country. We all explained that yes, it is one of the things we are most proud of about the US.
• Guest speakers came to tell about the religions of Judaism and Islam, which most of the kids never even knew existed. The only religions that people usually know about here, especially in the smaller campos, are Catholicism and Evangelicalism.
• A group of Koreans who are in the Dominican Republic volunteering came to teach us how they greet each other in Korea. All of the kids practiced bowing and then saying “Ahnyahng!” (For you Arrested Development fans, it was hilarious to see 50 Dominican youth yelling “Ahnyahng” over and over again.)
• All of the volunteers did a short presentation on a country, and the kids had passports and traveled around the world, learning interesting facts about all of the countries. I taught the kids about Finland (in honor of Ms. Noora Lento) and the facts that everyone liked were that they have a female president and that in part of the country there are 50-plus days of no sun in the winter, and in the summer that are 70-plus days of constant sunlight, and that all males have to serve in the army once they turn 18.
• Kung Fu experts came and gave a martial arts demonstration.
• We toasted s’mores (or in Spanish- s’mas) over a bonfire. My kids had never even eaten a marshmallow before so that was a totally new experience.
• And of course we had a talent show, complete with a limbo contest. It is basically a requirement to have a talent show at these camps because the kids absolutely love to show off their singing, dancing, and poetry reciting skills. And they all loved doing the limbo, which I don’t think any of them had done before.

Trainee Visit

A new group of youth volunteers (well, as of now, they are just trainees) arrived in the Dominican Republic two weeks ago, and as part of their 3-month training, all of them went to spend 4 days visiting one of us old volunteers. The purpose of the trip was for them to learn how to use public transportation, and basically just to find out what youth volunteers do and how we live.

Andrew showed up at my house on Thursday afternoon. I had been eagerly awaiting his visit, as had every single teenage girl (and some of the adult women- one woman told me that she would ditch her husband and marry Andrew) in Baoba. Up to this point, I have only had girl visitors, which made all of my teenage boys happy. But now the roles reversed, and it was my teenage girls who had the opportunity to flirt with an Americano.

It took only a few minutes after Andrew’s arrival for the visitors to start arriving. First came all of the little kids, ready to play with the new kid. And then came the teenage girls, eager for me to introduce them.

Basically I used the weekend to show Andrew how extremely tranquilo my campo life is. We sat on my porch and chatted; then we went to the neighbor’s porch to sit and chat some more. On Thursday night, we went over to Sandy’s house (the lawyer who is helping me lead the Escojo group) and he cooked dinner for us us and all of the Escojo kids. Andrew was a hit that night, teaching all of the kids a new game called Zoomie Zoomie.

On Friday, we went to the high school in the morning and wrote a few country names on the map mural that the kids and I did earlier in the summer. Andrew got to hear the school principal basically ask me for every single technological thing he could ever want. (“Lauren, could you ask America if they could send me a laptop and a printer and a scanner and a copy machine and a projector and big screen.”) In the afternoon, we met up with some other volunteers and their trainees at DuDu, the freshwater lagoon that is close to Baoba. The easier way to get there is by motor, so I asked Yan Carlos, a 16-year-old kid to take us there. He had never been, so I paid the 50 peso entrance fee for him, and he was happy to hang out with us for a couple of hours. And then on Saturday, Andrew and I trekked down to the beach with all 15 of the Escojo kids (and about 6 dogs because the boys wanted to wash them in the river/ocean), which was a TON of fun. I was a little hesitant to take all 15 kids and be responsible for all of them down at the beach, but it was definitely one of the most fun things I’ve done here in Baoba.

I don’t really work on weekends, but about 80% of my job is just hanging out with the people in Baoba, especially the youth, so I’m glad Andrew got the opportunity to see that aspect of my job. Although I think after 4 days, he was probably getting pretty bored. He said he would prefer to live and work in a larger city, and while I feel that the slow campo life is perfect for me, I definitely understand how someone else might need to live at a little faster pace.

Unfortunately, I got a stomach virus on Saturday night before Andrew left (Brandy, the 8 year boy who I shared my birthday with later told me that he had the same stomach virus on Friday, so I’m pretty sure that’s where I got it.) And Andrew called me on Sunday night to tell me that he was sick with the same stomach flu. Poor kid. But I guess I gave him a pretty accurate description of my life here – sit on porches, visit with neighbors, go to the beach, hang out with teenagers, and get the occasional illness.

And of course now I’m getting the aftermath of my first male visitor. Lots of questions about if Andrew and are dating or even married, and lots of gossip about where he slept those three nights (on a borrowed mattress on the floor in a totally separate bedroom). Pero así es la vida.

El Peaje

I'm taking two kids to another 3-day conference. This conference, called Celebrando el Cibao, is to teach Dominican youth about other cultures and social ideas. I decided to take Henri (22 years old) and Yuliana (15 years old) because they got the highest grades on my final Escojo exam that I gave to the group way back in May. The conference is not directly related to Escojo Mi Vida, but hopefully Yuliana and Henri will come back and be able to teach the rest of the Escojo kids what they learned.

Because it's a conference run entirely by volunteers, we have had to do a lot of fundraising. And like most volunteer-run camps, each community has to bring $1000 pesos. This money should not come out of the volunteers' pockets, but the kids should fundraise so that they are invested in the conference. This also is a good excuse to teach the youth group how to fundraise so that they can raise money themselves once I leave Baoba. We did a raffle to raise money for Camp G.L.O.W., so for this camp, we decided to do a peaje.

A peaje (pronounced "pay-ah-hey") is technically a toll booth. With the permission of the mayor, we held a long rope across the highway with signs saying that we were doing a fundraiser, and when the cars would stop, the girls would go out and collect the money. This is apparently a very common fundraising method in the Dominican Republic, and surprisingly we raised a lot of money. In total, we raised $3525 pesos (about $100), not including the various drinks and snacks we bought during the 8 hours of standing in the hot sun. So with the extra $2525 pesos the kids want to plan a trip.

The outcome of the peaje was great. We collected more than enough money. However, actually doing the peaje was a headache. We were out on the highway at 7:30 amm because we got a bola (free ride). And we worked through lunch and stayed out there until 4 pm. We would've left a lot sooner, but because we arrived to the highway via bola, we were stranded until someone else came to get us. And let me tell you, by 4 pm these kids were hot, hungry, tired and GRUMPY.

And I got sunburned. During the heat of the day, there were 14 kids sitting down on the shady side of the highway and me and one guy standing on the sunny side of the highway. The kids kept telling me, "Lauren, why are you standing in the sun? Come sit in the shade with us." But if I went over to that side, there would be no one to collect money on the sunny side. So I stayed.

Also the kids thought we wouldn't raise money if the people knew were collecting money to send only two kids to a camp in Jarabacoa. So we lied and told everyone that it was for their graduation from Escojo Mi Vida. Most people didn't even read the signs or ask why we were raising money; they simply threw coins at us as they drove by, so I don't know if that would've mattered or not. But it wasn't worth arguing about with them. If they thought we would get more money for a graduation, so be it. And also, just so y'all know, not only did I lie to get people to donate money, I was very much promoting my girls to act and dress as sexy as possible to coax money from all of these male Dominicans. And I believe that is why we were as successful as we were.

Patronales

Here in Baoba, we are in the midst of celebrating our Patronales. Patronales is a 9-day party with live music and of course lots of drinking. Technically, Patronales is supposed to be 9 days of religious services for us to celebrate Baoba’s patron saint. But like with all Dominican religious holidays (see previous entry on Semana Santa), it’s just another excuse to get drunk.

Patronales started on Friday the 14th and ended on Sunday the 23rd. As a general rule, I try to stay away from the Patronales. Since I’m supposed to be a role model for the kids here, I don’t like to become associated with parties with alcohol, drugs, and dirty dancing. So I usually go to the religious services and then head home before the real partying starts.

On Wednesday night, I made an exception. The girls in my Escojo group wanted to do two of their choreographed dances in front of everyone at Patronales. I have seen these dances a million times and even danced with them a few times, so I wanted to be there at Patronales to support my girls. The church service ended at 9 pm, Patronales started at 9:01, and the girls danced at 9:30. They did a great job, and afterwards we all stayed and enjoyed listening to the music.

Around 10 pm, I was talking with Valerio, the father of one of my girls, and he pointed out a group of people, mostly teenagers, that were all crowded in a circle, smoking drugs. He came in a pickup truck, so we decided that he and his daughter and I would head on home before any trouble started. As we started walking to the truck, a huge fight broke up between the people who were smoking. I knew that Valerio always carried a gun with him, and when I saw him reach for it on his belt, I very calmly walked far away from him and the fight.

The fight was getting intense- one kid had a baseball bat- and Valerio shot his gun into the air to break up the fight. This of course caused panic with all of the other Dominicans, yet did nothing to break up the fight. Two more shots were fired by someone else, and everyone started running. I didn’t run. I was partially hidden behind a tent so I just stayed there and watched the action, ready to flee if necessary. But I thought that running hysterically would just cause more panic.

Valerio came and got me and told me we had to leave right then. I had planned on going with him and his daughter and leaving the rest of the kids at the party to enjoy the Patronales. But after the fight broke out, there was no way I was going to leave my kids alone. So I told Valerio that he had to wait, and walked around and found every single one of my 20 teenagers and sent them all home in the pick up truck.

We all arrived home safely, and when I got home, it finally occurred to me how dangerous that situation could have been. The next night, we all went to the Catholic mass, and went straight home. No one was going to stick around Patronales to see if another fight would break out.

No hablo espanol (bien)

I was doing a teambuilding activity with my Escojo group the other day. They all had to grab each others' hands, making a knot, and then unravel the knot without letting go of the hands. So after everyone was tangled into this huge human knot, I told them all to "desnudar." I did not know the word for untangle, but "des" is a prefix that means undo, and "nudo" means knot, so in my mind, it all made sense. However when the kids gave me weird looks and the boys started jokingly taking off the clothes of the girls, I soon realized that "desnudar" means to undress. Oops.

Along with learning Spanish, I have also had to learn Dominican Spanish. Dominican Spanish is a language all its own. Instead of saying "poco" meaning little, they say "chin." Another example: In Spanish, the word "guapo" means cute or handsome. But here, it means angry. So whenever one of the girls in my girls' club would tell me about her boyfriend, I would ask her if he was guapo, if he was handsome. They all told me no. I thought they were all telling me me that their boyfriends were ugly, but they thought I kept asking them if their boyfriends were angry. Oops.

When I first arrived in Baoba, the question that everyone asked me was if I had lived with a man before. I was confused as to why this question was so important, and I answered yes, I had lived with my dad for 18 years, before I left for college, and for some reason, this answer was not socially acceptable here in the Dominican Republic. Later I found out that to live with a man means to have sexual relations. It does not simply mean what the words say - to live in the same house a man. No wonder everyone thought I was wierd when I said that I had lived with my dad. Oops.

Camp G.L.O.W.

Camp G.L.O.W. (Girls Leading Our World) is a 5-day, all-girl camp. And it was intense, for both the volunteers and the girls. All of the other Peace Corps-run camps are only 3 days, and we sleep in comfortable dorm rooms. But at this camp, we all slept on the ground in tents with our girls.

I brought 4 girls- Marlene (19-years-old), Maria (17), Leidi (16) and Valeria (12). And they were all great. They participated in all of the activities and had positive attitudes throughout the stressful week. I was so protective over all of them, especially when traveling. I really just felt like a mom with my 4 daughters. I'm just going to skip over the charlas and lectures and presentations that they all learned and tell the interesting parts of the camp.

These girls are all used to sleeping in beds with pillows, and for all of them it was their first time sleeping outside and camping out. Also, there were only 4 bathrooms/showers or 60+ girls, so that was a difficult experience as well. Especially for Dominican girls who like to bathe at least twice a day.

And the rain started. And didn't stop. Our tent was the only tent didn't flood. During the storm, the other girls slept in a roofed shelter (although it didn't have walls, so the girls still ended up getting soaked), but we stayed mostly dry. However due to the intense thunder, lightning and wind no one slept that night. The next day, nearly all of the girls wanted to pack up and go home. But not my girls. They were troopers and wanted to stay to finish out the week.

On the last day, there was a little drama. Regina had brought three girls from Matancitas, and Regina and I thought that our girls all got along. They've met each other at Escojo conferences and various trips between Matancitas and Baoba. But apparently that was not the case. My girls came to me upset that the girls from Matancitas were spreading gossip about them and telling people not to clap for them when it was time for them to get their certificates or when their pictures came up on the last day's slideshow.

During the last night, we had a bonfire. One of the Matancitas girls had to be removed because she started fighting with another girl (not from Baoba, thank goodness). During the bonfire, a few girls stood up to thank the volunteers and tell what part of the camp they liked best. My girls stood up and thanked me for bringing them there, and then added "We liked the presentation on how to resolve conflicts because in Baoba we want to resolve conflicts and not cause them," which I think was a deliberate stab at the Matancitas group. I have no idea what really happened between the two groups, but it is safe to say that they will not be going to Matancitas anytime soon.

On returning home, we ended up waiting at the bus stop in Santo Domingo or two hours. Buses kept coming, but Dominicans don't believe in lines, so there would be a mad rush and the bus would fill up before I could get all of my girls on. At this point, we were all sick (thanks to sleeping outside in the rain), and Marlene had a fever. So I went up to the bus driver and told him in my bossiest tone that I am in charge of bringing these 4 girls home and one of them has a fever and he better let us go home. And TADA! The next bus came and the driver escorted us all to our seats before he let any of the other people on.

More Pictures

I have now run out of (free) space on my other picture Web Site. More updated, awesomer pictures are now at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/LRintheDR

Mi Cumpleaños

On July 28th, I turned 23 years old. Here is how I celebrated my birthday in la Republica Dominicana:

Fiesta Numero Uno
On Monday, July 27th, I went to Regina's site in Matancitas and met up with a couple of volunteers there. We cooked tacos (it sounds simple, but ground beef is a huge luxury here), made guacamole, and had a great dinner. After dinner, we all went down to the beach to a big discoteca and danced merengue with the locals. When the merengue music stopped, we hopped in a car with a group of (rich- they had a car!) Dominicans and went to the park in Nagua and hung out for awhile, watching Michael Jackson videos on a huge outdoor screen. And around 11, we went to the sports bar in Regina's site for ice cream and asopao (a Dominican mixture of rice, tomato sauce and chicken), and then we called in a night.

Fiesta Numero Dos
I arrived in Baoba around noon, and immediately all of the girls came over to my house to wish me a happy birthday and to tell me what to wear to the night's party. We were going to have a party to celebrate my birthday, Jose's birthday (he was turning 23 also) and Brandy's birthday (he was turning 8). I wanted to wear jeans and a tank top, but the girls told me I had to wear a dress and high heels, so that's what I did.

I then went to the colmado to buy everything I needed for the party. Even though it was to celebrate the three birthdays together, I was the one paying for the majority of the food. Brandy's mom, Nila, was going to make the asopao for the estimated 50 guests. To make the asopao, I bought six pounds of rice, 8 pounds of chicken, and various seasonings.

Throughout the day, the various little kids gave me presents and cards they had written. Leo, an 8-year-old boy, gave me a 2-liter bottle of soda; Jerry, my 11-year-old neighbor, gave me bracelets, earrings and a hair clip; Yamel, my 13-year-old neighbor, gave me a silver chain purse and hair clips; and Danielito, a 9-year-old boy, wrote me a note that simply said "Te amo." And a couple of my older boys cleaned my front yard, cut the grass (by hand, with a machete), and chopped of old, dry banana tree leaves as their gift to me.

I started getting ready for the party around 6 p.m., but was interrupted by Marlene and Yuliana. "Who told you that we got you a birthday cake?" they yelled at me. They day before, Brandy had told me that all of the kids in my Escojo group had been saving money for the past three weeks to buy me a birthday cake as their present to me, but it was supposed to be a surprise. "You got me a cake?? That's great! I had no idea, thanks so much!" I said, feigning surprise. But they knew that someone had told me. "You're a horrible liar," they told me. So I confessed that Brandy had let the surprise slip out, not knowing the repercussions of this statement. Once Nila found out that it was her son that had "ruined" the kids' surprise for me, she spanked him and then forbid him to go to the birthday party - his own bitrhday party. I went and talked to them and explained that just because I knew about the cake, doesn't take away from the generosity of the gift, but everyone was still upset.

So the party started around 7. We all danced - bachata, merengue and reggaeton. The cake the kids bought for me was beautiful, and everyone that I cared about here in Baoba came out to celebrate. About an hour into the party, Javier (for those of you who have read the blog entry entitled "Javier se va," he postponed his moving to Bavaro so that he could be here or my birthday. Aawww.) called me up in front of everyone and told me that the group had another surprise for me hidden beneath the cake. They had written me a card and made me read it aloud, which was difficult because I almost started to cry, the gesture was so sweet.

The card said: Happy birthday Lauren. On this special day, we want to tell you - although your family isn't here to be with you and support you - this day is an important day for you. Wwe hope that the day goes well and that you feel good celebrating it with your youth and your neighbors. Today we want you to know that we are your family. And in the little time that we have known each other other, we are so proud that you are our volunteer. We hope that you aren't lonely or sad today; only that you are happy. Happy birthday, from your jovenes.

Around 9:30, a special guest arrived: one of Baoba's mayoral candidates. Lala (strange name, huh?) and three of his campaign buddies came by with a huge bag of rum, beer and wine. I have no idea how he heard about the party, but I guess he thought the Americana's fiest would be a great campaign stop. He passed out the alcohol, shook hands with everyone, and even sponsored a reggaeton dance contest between the girls, giving the winner $200 pesos. I was a little annoyed that he came because some of the older women who should've been attending to the party were more concerned with what Lala needed. "Let me know if you need a glass of water, " they told him. Meanwhile I'm sick with a slight fever and a cough (I had gripe) and culd've used a glass of water. But the next day, Lala came over to my house with three bottles of antibiotics, so that was pretty nice of him.

Around 11 p..m., we passed out the asopao and a lot of people left. Then the kids lit the candles on the cakes. Yes, there was more than one cake. When the kids were being sneaky and planning the surprise, they asked me what kind of cake I liked better - chocoalte or vanilla. I knew they wanted to get me one, so I said that I liked both so that it would be easier for them. Therefore, they bought a vanilla cake for the party. But they also gave me two pieces of chocolate cake since I had said that I "wanted" both. Just as I was about to blow out the candles, Javier put some icing from the cake onto the tip of my nose. This started a chain reaction, and all of the kids in the youth group ended up covering my face with icing.

After I blew out the candles, everyone left the party except for me and the youth group. We stayed until midnight, dancing reggaeton, and then we all left. Everyone was too full from eating the asopao to eat cake, so we saved the cake until the next day to pass it out to everyone who came to the party.

Javier se va

It's been awhile since I've been lonely, so I guess the time is overdue. I just heard (not from the primary source, but from people in the barrio) that Javier is leaving. He's leaving Baoba - he's leaving me - to go work in Bavaro. I understand that it's a great opportunity; there aren't many work options available in Baoba, and it will definitely be good for him. But selfishly, I want him to stay. I want him to stay here and go to school and go with me to Escojo conferences.

What makes this news especially sad is that John Carlos and Meri left today to live with their father in Puerto Plata. And while Meri is only planning on staying there for 15 days, until school begins again, John Carlos is going to live and work there. Once again, it's a great opportunity for him - to work during the day and go to school at night - but I want him here with me.

I think it's common knowledge here in Baoba that I like the boys more than the girls. I can just sit and talk with the guys. They tell me like it is, and there's no drama. With the guys, I can watch baseball on tv and don't have to pretend to be all involved in the Dominican soap operas. And of course, the endless flirting with them doesn't hurt my ego. And out of all of the guys here in Baoba and in my Escojo group, Javier and John Carlos are my favorites.

They visit me in my house. They help me with whatever I need (killing termites; driving me around Baoba; hammering nails in the house). They participate in Escojo meetings and make and make sure that everyone is listening to me. They dance with me at parties. And they tell other guys that I don't like the constant "pssssst gringa" when I walk past. In short, they take care of me. And even though they're both younger than me (Javier is 18 and John Carlos is 17), they're probably my best friends here. I highly doubt that they realize how much I appreciate them, but they are two of the reasons why I look forward to returning to Baoba whenever I am in the capital.

It's so hard for me to make good friends here. Sure, I have people who want to use my stuf (ipod, straightening iron, blow dryer, computer, dvds, books, etc.) and I have my "students" who are in my English class and summer school. But friends - real riends, who I can trust and who have the patience to listen to me slowly work out what I want to say in Spanish - are hard to come by. So when I find those people who I can talk to and be myself around, I attach myself to them. And now my two best friends - my two brothers - are leaving, and the loneliness is returning.

La Pijamata

Last night I hosted a pijamata at my house. In the United States, a pijamata is a simple concept known to everyone – a slumber party. I think by the age of 10, all Americans (especially the girls) have been to a slumber party and the majority have probably hosted one. Well here in the Dominican Republic, that is not the case. La pijamata is a rarity, and I think I can count on one hand the number of girls here in Baoba that have been to one.

Yesterday was the 14th birthday of my neighbor Nancy, the little sister I never had (ha-just kidding Jordan), and I wanted to do something special to celebrate the occasion. Birthdays are not a big deal here either, and often people are lucky if they get a special dinner, much less a party with gifts from family and friends. So I hosted a slumber party for her and 4 of her friends.

First let me tell you that it was a hassle just to get the parents to let their daughters stay at my house, and I had to promise that I would lock the girls in the house so that they wouldn’t leave. But once all of that was settled, we started the planning. The girls arrived at my house around 10 pm, after a special mass in the Catholic church. I made popcorn (stove top, of course), poured soda and we all settled down to watch a Dominican horror movie called Andrea. After about 40 minutes in the movie, the girls were too scared and made me turn off Andrea and put in one of my favorites- Love Actually. One of the girls fell asleep during the movie, so the other girls painted her face with blue tempera paint.

The movie ended around 1 am, and then the real party became. The girls danced, listened to music, and modeled in their underwear in my full length mirror for about 2 hours, and then we all crashed around 3 am. I slept in my bed, and they all slept on the floor. And around 6:30 the next morning, they all left.

All 5 girls told me that they all loved the pijamata, and surprisingly it wasn’t as stressful as I thought it would be. Although I hardly slept because I kept listening for them to see if they were going to try and leave in the middle of the night, but alas nothing scandalous occurred. We did have two male visitors stop by around 12:30 am, but those guys (Javier and Fausto) are more my friends than the girls, so that didn’t worry me too much. And now the girls are asking me to have a pijamata for my birthday, but that is definitely not going to happen. I enjoyed the pijamata, but it is definitely not how I want to celebrate my birthday. (FYI: I want to celebrate my birthday by dancing bachata and merengue on the beach.)

Escojo Graduation

Thirteen weeks ago, I began a course to teach the youth here in Baoba how to make healthy decisions with the hope that one day they could stand in front of their peers and teach them the same themes. And after thirteen weeks of coaxing the kids to come to the course on time and to pay attention, the kids have finally graduated. Kids here don’t often get the chance to graduate from something, so I wanted this to be really special. We made invitations and gave them to all of the family members and friends that lived in our neighborhood, and up until the graduation began, I was constantly harassing all of the parents to make their way to the church to support their kids in the graduation (I seriously mean harassing- it was extremely difficult to get these parents to show up). And to my delight, we had a great turnout, with about 30 family members and friends in the audience.

The kids all arrived at the church at 3:30 to prep for the graduation, which was set to begin at 4 (and in reality, began at 4:30). I didn’t want the graduation to just be me talking in front of everyone for two reasons: 1) I don’t speak Spanish that well and didn’t want to have to write a long speech, and 2) this course was for them to learn how to give lectures to the community so it would be good practice for the kids to speak in front of their parents at their own graduation. So that’s what we did.

The program for the graduation:

• Meri and Marlene gave the welcome and opening remarks, along with a guest appearance by Sandy for a little dinámica. (A dinamica is a short little song that gets the audience up on their feet singing and dancing. Dominicans love these, and I will teach them all to you when I get back home.)
• Brian and Franklin spoke on what we learned during the course- values and self-esteem; sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV/AIDS and how to prevent them; teen pregnancy and how to prevent it; abstinence; drugs and alcohol; and how to use condoms.
• Henri and John Carlos spoke on what we did during the 13 weeks- went to La Capilla to participate in a march for International Women’s Day; hosted the group from La Capilla for a presentation on discrimination; went to Jarabacoa for a 3-day regional conference; and went to Matancitas for an all-day conference with 4 other Escojo groups.
• Andy and Leidi spoke on the groups plan for the future- to give presentations and lectures to the community; to have a talent show; to have a community march; and to present dramas to the schools and churches in Baoba and surrounding communities.
• The two regional coordinators, Joamver and Felix, then spoke more about Escojo and the benefits to being in the group. I invited these guys, who live about 2 hours away, to come and say some encouraging words to my kids for the graduation.
• Nanci and Yamel then presented the drama that the kids did in Matancitas, and the kids then repeated the drama so that all of the parents could see it as well.
• Then I said a short little speech telling the kids how much I enjoyed teaching them and presented all of the certificates.
• Javier and Elizabeth then gave closing remarks and invited everyone back to my house for cake and juice.

The After Party:

The after party was a huge hit. I had spent all morning making 5 gallons of juice with melon, apples, bananas, coconut and pineapples. And the day before I went into the closest large city to buy and decorate (yes I actually decorated the cake. They called me into the back kitchen of the bakery to draw my Escojo design with the icing because the bakers didn’t know how to do it) a 3 pound cake.

After serving the cake and juice, we all spent the next 3 hours dancing bachata and merengue. And towards the end of the evening, my kids were even able to drag me onto the dance floor to booty-dance with them to Dominican rap music.

I was extremely proud of how well the graduation and after party went. During the graduation, all of the kids spoke loudly and articulately, and at the after party, everyone behaved. I had told them beforehand that this would be the one party where alcohol would not be allowed, and surprisingly they stuck to this rule. I was also proud of all of the parents who showed up to support their kids. I feel like we take it for granted that our parents would show up at our graduation or a sporting event, but here the kids are pretty much on their own for that sort of thing. I could tell it really meant a lot to the kids for them to stand up in front of their friends and family and present what they have been doing for the past 3 months.

Thank you, Captain Obvious

As a basic generalization, Dominicans are extremely observant. And they love comparisons. When Jordan was here visiting, almost every single person that we passed by told me that Jordan was taller than me. Then they went to look at the pictures in my photo album and they told me that Jordan has always been taller than me. I was already aware of this fact, but they love to state the obvious. After Jordan left, a 6-year-old girl came up to me and told me that Jordan and I have the same feet. When I asked what she meant, she replied that we both use red nail polish and our toenails rise up.

Another example of their observant nature: Everyday I get an update on my weight from all of my neighbors. “Lauren, tu eres más gorda hoy.” (You’re fatter today) or “Lauren, tu eres demasiado flaca. Tu estás moriendo.” (You’re too skinny. You’re wasting away.) And while it’s nice to know that all of my neighbors are paying close attention to my eating habits and my health, hearing about how fat I’ve gotten in the past 24 hours gets a little old.

Other comments that I’ve recently gotten:

• “Wow Lauren, you sure are sweating a lot.” (I heard this from multiple people as I returned from my morning run.)
• “Lauren’s nose is very thin and pointy.” (This was not said directly to me, but was said as if I was not even in the room. I was in fact sitting next to the person talking.)
• "Lauren, did you know that you have love handles?” (Yes, I did know this.)
• "Lauren, you didn’t wash your hair today.” (No, I didn’t. Is it that obvious?)

Seriously, when recruiting Peace Corps volunteers for the Dominican Republic, there should be a disclaimer: Self-conscious people need not apply.

Ok, so Dominicans are observant. But ironically, they think all blonde-haired, fair-skinned people look exactly the same: like me. I was watching a movie that had Claudia Schiffer in it, and they told me that I could be Claudia Schiffer’s twin. This was extremely flattering, especially since they just got done telling me that I’ve gained weight. And they think all Americans look the same: blonde-haired, blue-eyed. They are shocked when they come across a picture of an American with African or Asian heritage, and it’s impossible to convince them that they are American. Or even just extremely tan people (like Shannon and Liz), they don’t believe are Americans because they don’t look like me.

Mango Season

Mango season has finally arrived. From the moment that I arrived in Baoba (back in November), everyone has been telling me to just wait until mango season, and so I have been anticipating it’s arrival. Everyday kids in my neighborhood bring me at least one mango, and I cannot eat them fast enough. On my run this morning, a little 8-year-old boy that I didn’t even know just stuck out a mango in his hand as I passed by for me to grab mid-stride.

Unfortunately, with the arrival of mango season comes the arrival of rainy season (and with rainy season, comes mosquito season). Apparently May is the rainy month in the Dominican Republic, and June begins hurricane season. Hurricane season will last until November, and people are already talking about whose sturdy-block house we’ll go to once a “cyclone” comes through. Because of its dirt roads and its proximity to three large rivers, Baoba has the tendency to flood, or at least to make the roads impassable. However I’m not too worried about it. Peace Corps has consolidation points for us, and if a bad hurricane is getting ready to hit, I will be called into San Francisco, a large city about 1 ½ hours away. And while Baoba will be fending for itself, I will be relaxing in a nice hotel where rumor has it has tennis courts, a swimming pool, and room service. Depending on when I get the call to come into San Francisco, it might be difficult to travel to the city, but if Baoba is really flooded and I can’t leave, they will (like, they have in the past) send a helicopter to fly me out to safety. And to be quite honest, I’m kinda hoping for the helicopter ride.

Intercambio de Matancitas

I am exhausted. Yesterday I had the overwhelming task of taking 18 kids (ages 12 - 22) to Matancitas, about an hour away from Baoba, for a huge Escojo Mi Vida event. Regina (the volunteer in Matancitas) and Laticia (the volunteer in Los Limones, about 2 hours away) and I had planned an all day conference for our Escojo groups. The plan started out with us three having about 40 kids, and then it grew to include 2 more Escojo groups, so there were about 70 kids total.

Unlike the regional Escojo conference in Jarabacoa (which had a 70 kid-12 volunteer ratio), it was up to us 5 volunteers to plan and pay for all of the activities. My group left Baoba around 8:15, as soon as church was over. I climbed in the back of the pickup truck with all 10 of the boys, while the 8 girls sat up front so that their hair wouldn't get messed up. We arrived in Matancitas at about 9:15, the last group to arrive.


At 9:30, the activities began. The Escojo group from Los Limones gave two charlas: one on how to use a condom and another on the consequences of pregnancy in adolescents. Two of my kids, Franklin and Melvito, were called up front to show that they learned how to successfully put on a condom (on a plantain).

Next, 10 of my kids acted in a 10-minute drama. In the drama, there were three couples. All three had sex, however only one couple used of condom. Thus, one couple ended up getting HIV and the other couple ended up pregnant. Moral of the drama: use condoms.

After the drama, the group from Salcedo gave a charla on sexually transmitted diseases and HIV/AIDS. The group from Matancitas acted in a dance/drama. And I concluded the educational activities with a Jeopardy-style game on all of the topics that they had previously learned.

Then the fun began. We had a talent show, which basically turned into a dance-off. My girls had spent the past week practicing a dance and came prepared with costumes (jean shirts, tank tops and neckties). After about 4 dances, we had to cut the talent show off because one of the girls (not in my group!) started stripping and waving her shirt in the air. She had on a sports bra, but we decided that wasn't really acceptable behavior at a conference that emphasizes healthy decision-making.
We then ate lunch, which was buffet style and included (50 pounds of) rice, chicken, pasta salad, spaghetti, and potato salad. We paid women in Matancitas to cook all of the food, and ended up spending $7000 pesos (about $200 US dollars) to feed all 80 people. We played a few games after lunch, then corralled everyone out to the beach. We tried to have structured activities on the beach, but it started raining so we just gave them the afternoon full of free time. I spent the time sitting in the rain watching my kids who were swimming to make sure they didn't drown. So by the time 5 p.m. rolled around, I was cold and tired and couldn't think in Spanish anymore, and that's when I knew it was our time to head home.

Overall the day was a huge success. I love taking my kids places because they are so well-behaved. They participated in all of the activities, they helped clean up after lunch, they listened to all of the charlas, and most importantly they listened and respected me. Not all of the volunteers can say that about their group, and I feel very lucky to have such a good group of kids in Baoba.

A Day in the Life of...

I’ve gotten a lot of emails from you recently about what I actually do on a day-to-day basis, so here is what I did on Monday, April 27, 2009

• 7:30 am: Wake up, take bucket bath really quick because there’s light! Am able to blow dry my hair, and already the day is off to a great start.

• 8 am: Brandy, my 7 year old neighbor shows up. I brew us a pot of coffee and we sit on the front porch and share my breakfast of pan y café (bread and coffee)

• 8:30 am: There are now 5 kids on my front porch playing card games. I ignore them and read my book, “The Canterbury Tales”

• 9:30 am: I force all of the kids to leave except for Brandy. It’s time for our tutoring session. Today we work on writing the alphabet and saying the correct letters.

• 10:15 am: Brandy leaves and Leo arrives. It’s time for his tutoring session, and we work on reading words with the “ch” sound.

• 10:30 am: The lights go out. No big deal, except now the water in my refrigerator won’t be as cold as I would like.

• 10:45 am: sweep and mop the house. The kids return immediately after the house is clean to color in my coloring books. My house now needs to be swept and mopped again.

• 11:30 am: time to eat! Take out the rice and guandules from the fridge. Mix that with a salad of lettuce, tomato, bacon bits (thanks mom!) and oil and vinegar, and it’s “a buen tiempo.”

• Noon: wash dishes immediately after eating so that the ants won’t swarm my kitchen

• 12:30 pm: Nancy, my 13-year-old neighbor, comes to visit and chat. We sit on the front porch and discuss why she didn’t go to school today (headache) as we eat honey straight from the honeycomb.

• 2 pm: It’s time to make the rounds. I walk down the street to visit Manolo and his family. I help him and his wife shell guandules for tomorrow’s lunch, and as a thank you they give me some to cook tomorrow.

• 2:50 pm: Rachele, another volunteer, calls me to plan out her next Escojo meeting. We decide that STDs and HIV/AIDS is a lot of information for one 1-hour lecture, but neither one of us wants to break up the information and teach an extra class. So we both decide to just cram it all into one hour. I’ll let you know how that goes.

• 3:30 pm: Walking home from Manolo’s, I see about 6 of my Escojo kids sitting outside. I go sit with them.

• 3:45 pm: Trenita, another volunteer, calls me. She has to give a lecture on conflict resolution at the next Escojo regional conference, and needs some real-life conflict scenarios. She decides to use two from my group (our little fundraising problem and my catty teenage girls who always arrive late to my meetings). It’s a good thing my Escojo group is very conflicted so that I could help her out so easily.

• 4 pm: I go play dominoes with the old people of the neighborhood. I lose.

• 5 pm: I go visit Mingo and his wife Alessandra. They sell cleaning and bath products, and I want to buy a bar of soap. But they don’t have anymore, and I’ll have to wait for the next shipment to come in.

• 5:30 pm: I go visit Sofia (Nancy’s mom) who just arrived from out of town.

• 6:15 pm: I go to the colmado to buy 1 pound of sugar (to make coffee tomorrow morning), and to refill my 50-gallon botellón of water. This costs 50 pesos (about 2 US dollars). Frank, the 13-year-old son of the colmado owner, mopeds the water over to my house. (I bet y’all didn’t know that I could turn moped into a verb).

• 6:45 pm: Dinner is peanut butter and crackers. Yum!

• :00 pm: The lights come back on! Shut the front door and hide out in my back bedroom so that I can actually get some work done. Get ready for my English graduation party tomorrow. Write the student’s names on their certificates, and write their final exam.

• 7:30 pm: Finished with work for my English class. Now start studying for Wednesday’s lecture on sexually transmitted diseases and HIV/AIDS.

• 8 pm: Try to de-clog my shower drain by pouring boiling water down it. This does not work.

• 8:10 pm: The lights go out. Listen to music and type this journal entry on my computer until the battery dies.

• 9 pm: Double check that the doors and windows are locked and that the gas tank is turned off. Go to bed, say my prayers, and try to sleep without a fan in this sweltering heat.

Peace Corps News

Wanna know the latest Peace Corps DR happenings?? Well, here they are:

• One of the volunteers was in a bad motorcycle accident. Lori, who had just finished her two years here and decided to extend her service for a few more months to finish up a project in Puerto Plata, was riding a motor with her boyfriend at night. They crashed into a dog that was in the middle of the street, and her helmet wasn't fastened well and flew off. She was conscious but not in stable condition (she was only speaking in Spanish) at a hospital in Santo Domingo. She stayed there for about a week until she was stable enough to medical evacuate her to a hospital in the U.S. Please keep her in your prayers.
• On a much lighter note, one of the volunteers who came here with me in August is already engaged to her Dominican boyfriend! They met in November when she first arrived to her site, and immediately started dating. Peace Corps is currently doing the required paperwork and background check on the guy, and if all goes well they will be married by August.
  
• I have already booked a flight back home December 15-January 5. Write those dates down because I want to see everyone in those three short weeks!!
  

Camp G.L.O.W.

Dear Friends and Family!

It’s our pleasure to be writing to you today. Imagine the Dominican
Republic, strengthened, empowered and succeeding in the hands of
powerful, young female leaders. Peace Corps Volunteers committed to
Camp GLOW, a world-wide Peace Corps initiative, are preparing this
year’s event. GLOW is short for 'Girls Leading Our World,' and here
in the DR, we call our event '¡Campamiento Estrellas de Hoy!" (Camp
Stars of Today). As volunteers involved in this year’s Camp GLOW
event, we’re planning talks, workshops, games, and bonding activities
for over 50 young Dominican women.

All this takes place during a weeklong camp where the girls have the
opportunity to hear and talk openly and honestly about life goals,
life planning, healthy sex and relationships and much more. From yoga
to HIV awareness, the camp will be life-affirming for all our
participants, and a much needed respite from social and economic
pressures. Many young women in the Dominican Republic have children
and are married or otherwise involved in a domestic partnership far
before age 18. Camp GLOW aims to introduce and reinforce their power
to make healthy choices.

The girls themselves raise funds to participate, and the PCV’s seek
corporate sponsorships, as well. Yet, it’s still the generous
contributions of our Stateside communities that make ends meet. Your
contribution will pay for lodging, food, materials, and convey to
these young ladies that the world cares about their well-being!
If you’re able, please consider sponsoring a camper by securely
donating money at the Peace Corps-sponsored link below and send this
email on to at one other person. Donations from $5 or more are warmly
welcomed one and all. If your auxiliery club is interested in making a
donation, we encourage you to contact your volunteer before using the
website.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=517-303

We would love to send donors Thank-You cards and a photo from camp in
appreciation of your generosity. If you would like to receive one,
please be sure to fill out all the contact information on the donation
web form. Thanks so much for taking the time to consider it!

Warm Regards,
Your Volunteer, the girls, and the whole Camp GLOW family

The Scavenger Hunt

Lily, the Peace Corps volunteer in La Capilla (about 30 minutes north of Baoba) has an Escojo group in her site as well. Lily came to the Dominican Republic the August before I arrived so her group has already graduated and they are now giving lectures to the community. My Escojo group went to her site to help with a parade and a presentation on March 8 for International Women’s Day, and this past Saturday her group came to Baoba to repay the visit. Her group gave an hour long presentation to my kids about discrimination and diversity, which helped me out because it’s one less theme that I need to teach my kids before they graduate. After the lecture and the snacks (crackers, salami, cheese and soda), we had a scavenger hunt, which was a huge success.

Let me explain about the scavenger hunt. We divided all of the kids (36 total) into 2 groups: one group went with me and the other with Lily. Each team had a list of things they either had to search for or actions that they had to do, and we had to take pictures of each activity. Each activity completed earned the group a specific amount of points, and the team with the most points won. Here are the activities:

• Find the oldest person in Baoba and take his/her picture. -The team earns 1 point for each decade the person has lived.
• Hold a doña in your arms. Her feet cannot touch the ground. - 3 points
• Form a pyramid with beer bottles – 1 point for each level of the pyramid
• Put on your school uniforms – 2 points for each person in the photo wearing his/her uniform
• Find the stray dogs of Baoba – 3 points for each stray dog in the photo
• Fill bags with trash from the ground – 2 points for each full bag. If the bag is filled with leaves, it doesn’t count.
• One person has to hold live chickens – 4 points for each chicken held at the same time
• Fly a kite. – 10 points for each flight flying in the photo.
• One Peace Corps volunteer has to ride a horse – 5 points
• Climb a tree. Feet cannot touch the ground – 3 points for each member of the group who is in the tree.
• Put rollers in the hair of a man. – 3 points for each roller.
• One Peace Corps volunteer has to ride a pig. – 8 points
• Gather the most family members together at one time and take their picture – 2 points for each person.

My team lost by 5 points. We didn’t fly a kite because we didn’t have time to make one, and for the school uniforms, they only put on their shirts, not their complete uniform therefore we didn’t get any points for those questions. But the kids loved the activity, mainly because they got to see me ride a pig. And I liked the activity because they collected trash from the ground (and then burned it), learned to work as a team, and it gave me the opportunity to play with the kids. Sometimes I feel like all I’m doing is acting like their teacher or their mom, so it’s nice to be able to goof around and relax with them.

The group from La Capilla only stayed in Baoba for a couple of hours (2 – 5 p.m.), but afternoons like these are great for the kids here. They get to visit old friends and meet new ones, and it really breaks up the monotony of the campo life. Their days normally consist of school, work, and chores. And so this gave them an excuse to simply play and act their own age for the day.

Fundraising 101

My Escojo group has been working on fundraising so the group will have money. We have a lot of things coming up in the month of May that we need to pay for. The Escojo group from the neighboring town of La Capilla is coming to give us a lecture on discrimination and then the two groups are going to compete in a scavenger hunt, so it is our responsibility to buy snacks for the meeting. We also have our big graduation party coming up at the end of May, so the group needs money to buy a cake, refreshments, and graduation certificates. Thirdly, we’re planning on going to Matancitas, a town about an hour away, to visit the Escojo group there, so we need to pay for the transportation of the group. AND the group wants t-shirts made so that we can all look cool.

The group does not know that I have applied for a $16,000 peso grant (about $500 US dollars) to use for the Escojo group. I refuse to tell them until absolutely necessary because they need to learn how to raise the funds themselves. Once I leave, they aren’t going to be able to get grants from the US government, so they need to learn how they can raise money.

So in the regional Escojo conference, Andy and Meri learned how to make bracelets out of string and beads. We decided that a fun and simple fundraiser would be to make the bracelets and sell them to the students in the school. So I went to Nagua, bought $1000 pesos worth of materials, and spent 1 hour teaching the 20 kids in the group how to make them. Everyone made 3 or 4 bracelets and left the meeting excited to sell them. In larger towns, Escojo groups are selling the same bracelets for $40 pesos, so we decided since Baoba is a smaller, more rural campo, we were going to sell them for $35.

A week passed, and at our weekly Escojo meeting, I asked everyone to pass forward the money they got from selling the bracelets. The grand total of our fundraising efforts: $50 pesos or less than $2 US dollars. I was hoping that we would make enough money for me to make my $1000 and then the rest would be the group’s profits. But as the results were a little less than expected, I decided I would be fine with losing my $1000 pesos and all of the money that the group got from selling the bracelets would be their profits. Because I was angry and disappointed, I then turned my normal sex-ed class into a basic business lesson and led a discussion into what went wrong with selling the bracelets. The lessons learned?

• Our price of 35 pesos was too high, and we would’ve sold more if the price was at 25 pesos.
• We cannot sell the bracelets on credit, especially to little kids. They will never pay the money owed.
• We cannot teach the kids how to make the bracelets themselves because then they will make their own bracelets and won’t buy them from us.
• If we sell a bracelet, we cannot spend the money on snacks or other things sold in the school. This completely defeats the purpose of group fundraising and is in fact like stealing money for the group.

I then asked the group how we could solve the problem. The group from La Capilla arrives in Baoba in one week and we only have 50 pesos to use to buy snacks for the meeting. So the group decided that everyone will bring 50 pesos to the next meeting. So now the group has a little bit of money, yet they still have absolutely no idea how to fundraise.