Darlene

A group of American doctors (the Geheraty Medical Mission) recently came to Santo Domingo to perform free plastic surgeries on both kids and adults. The patients had problems ranging from cleft lips to extra digits to burn scars. These amazing doctors come every year to the Dominican Republic to stay two weeks helping those who are less fortunate.

Darlene is a 7-year-old girl in my site who has an extra finger and a extra toe. The extra finger doesn’t bother her. But the extra toe makes it difficult and painful for her to wear tennis shoes (which are required as part of the school uniform). When I heard about the medical mission, I thought that she would be a perfect candidate.

I found out about the medical mission when I was in the capital on Friday. Patient registration was the following Sunday. So I rushed back to Baoba to talk to Darlene’s mom. Darlene’s mom is a single mother who has two jobs: cleaning and cooking for a private home and working in a nail salon. When she heard about the opportunity, she told me that she would love for Darlene to have the surgery but unfortunately with the short notice, she couldn’t afford the trip or get off work. So I volunteered to take Darlene by myself.

We had to be at the hospital at 7 am on Sunday, so Darlene and I left Baoba on Saturday night. There was no way we could arrive on time if we left Sunday morning. This was only Darlene’s second trip to the capital, and she clung to me every second of the way. I traveled prepared for anything. I brought Dramamine, band-aids, Tylenol, mosquito repellent and anything else I could think of that she might need. Luckily she needed none of that. What she did enjoy however were my various forms of entertainment. I brought with us a deck of playing cards, a coloring book and crayons, the story Curious George and my ipod full of Dominican music. We got to the capital around 6 pm and went straight to dinner. I took her out for pizza because she had never eaten it before and she loved it! Afterwards, we just went back to the hostel and went to bed.

We woke up early on Sunday. I brushed and braided her hair, and we headed to the hospital. We arrived at 6:30, were given a ticket (number 68) and sent to stand in a line outside. I found the doctors, told them I was a Peace Corps volunteer, and they quickly changed my ticket to number 1 and moved us to a more comfortable waiting room. The doctors confirmed that they could perform the surgery on Darlene and scheduled us to return on Thursday.

We left Baoba early on Thursday morning (6:30 am) and arrived at the hospital around 11. For this trip, Darlene’s mom, Alexandra, also came with us. Once they put Darlene in the hospital gown, she became to cry because she was so nervous. So I went and put on hospital scrubs and told Darlene that I would go with her in the operating room and not leave her side until it was over. This seemed to calm her down.

We walked into the operating room and everything was going well. About two minutes after she received the anesthesia and fell asleep, I started feeling woozy (did you all see this coming?) so I tried to leave the operating room. But on my way out a nurse stopped me and asked me to open up a packet of gauze for her. This seemed to push me over the edge. My vision narrowed, I started sweating…and BOOM! I passed out on the operating room floor. So instead of taking care of Darlene, the doctors now had to worry about me. I woke up about 15 seconds later, lying on a hospital bed with a doctor holding my legs up in the air. Once everyone saw that I was ok and that I didn’t hit my head during the fall, the surgeons went back to the operating room. The Dominican nurses however stayed around me, offering me candy and Gatorade, and telling me that I was dumb for skipping breakfast that morning.

I stayed on my own little hospital bed until Darlene’s surgery was done and she was coming out of the anesthesia. Because I was at her side when she fell asleep and when she woke up, she thinks I stayed right there the whole time. She stayed in the recovery room for about 30 minutes, played with all of her gifts that the doctors gave her (a Barbie doll, 2 stuffed animals, stickers, coloring book, ball, jewelry), and then we returned to Baoba. Everyone keeps asking me how Darlene did in the surgery, and I can only reply “she did better than I.”

Only in the DR, Round Dos

My doña refuses to give me a glass of water to drink whenever I’m eating food that is served hot, like soup or rice pudding. When I asked her about it, she said it was because she knew someone who had gotten cancer and died from drinking something cold after eating something hot. In the same token, whenever I come back from running to the beach or doing some type of exercise, I am not allowed to open the refrigerator myself to get a glass of water. Because my body temperature is so hot, if I stand in front of something cold, like the fridge, I will die.

All Dominicans love the lottery. Every host family I’ve been in stops what they are doing every night at 9 p.m. to watch the lottery on television. Yet not one of those times has anyone ever bought a lottery ticket. They also repeatedly yell out the numbers in case anyone who happened to turn away from the tv for half a second missed the revealing of the numbers. The next day, everyone talks about the numbers that were selected.

I brought two photo albums with me to the DR: one full of pictures of my friends and me, and one with pictures of Jordan and me. These two photo albums sit on my counter for everyone to look at and marvel at how beautiful Americans are. I was feeling homesick the other day, so I went to look at the pictures. As I flipped through the photos, hundreds of tiny termites came running out of the album. Apparently they had nested in the felt background of the photo albums. So I sprayed the photo album and all of its plastic coverings with RAID in the hopes to kill the bugs (and not ruin the pictures!)

As I mentioned before in my journal entry on Baoba’s Patronales, a few of my girls were asked to dance at the town’s celebration. In the original dance, there were 5 girls, but for Patronales, only four of them were able to dance. Leidi’s mom wouldn’t let her dance because the sponsors at our little town’s festival were not going to pay the girls. So Leidi had to sit out on the sidelines simply because her mom was greedy and wanted some sort of compensation for her daughter to do what she loves.

Alvino had been bothering me for 2 months to start another English course so he could enlist. After all of pleading, I finally consented and signed people up for the course. The course lasted 4 months, and he only went to two classes. This made me so mad. I hadn’t wanted to teach another English class, and then the one person who convinced me to do it didn’t even attend the class regularly. After the course ended, I asked him why he never attended. His response: he was in love with me and being so close to me during the class made him nervous and gave him an upset stomach.

"Busca el colin"

When John Carlos (my 17-year-old handyman) came over to take care of my house’s termite problem, I got a little more than I had bargained for. I had been hounding this kid for 4 months to come over and kill all of the termites. I had the poison and the spray bottle, and all I needed was a muchacho to do the dirty work for me.

So I finally convinced him to come over by baking a chocolate cake and promising him two pieces as payment. He showed up, climbed up into my “attic” (which is really just like an open crawl space above my living room) and started spraying the insecticide. Just as he was about to finish, I heard him say “Whoa!”

“What is it??” I asked.

“Lauren, it’s nothing,” he replied. “Pero busca un colin rápido.” (translation: run and get a machete!)

I was a little confused as why he told me there was nothing, yet sent me to find a machete. But I quickly complied without asking more questions. As Frank once taught me, if everyone behind you starts to run, don’t stop to ask them why they are running; just run with them.

I gave him the machete, and went outside. Whatever was going on up in that attic, I did not want to be near it. After about two solid minutes of hearing the metal repeatedly clink against the wooden beams, I heard a soft thud. In my living room floor was a 3 foot long black snake (now a beheaded and bloody mess).

John Carlos threw the snake outside in the community trash pile, threw some bleach on my bloodstained floor, washed his hands and asked for his cake, while I stood there in shock, creeped out by the fact that a snake had been living in my house for who-knows-how-long.

When I went to return the machete back to my neighbor, I explained about the snake and she asked me what we did with it. I told her that we had thrown it in the trash pile and she informed me that (the superstition is) we have to burn the snake as a warning to all other snakes in the area. Otherwise more will come. So then she and spent the next hour going through the trash to find and burn the snake. We never found it, so I’m just hoping that the other snakes will see their buddy beheaded and get the message even without setting it afire.

America is AMAZING!!

Tomorrow I head back to the beauty and warmth of the Dominican Republic. While I am definitely not ready to leave the luxuries of America quite yet, I am ready to leave this cold weather. Right now (at 9 p.m.) it is 73 degrees in Santo Domingo.

I just want to thank everyone who made the time to visit with me and hear about my travels; everyone who bought me a drink or dinner (or a bowl game ticket!); everyone who cooked and baked me delicious food; and everyone who gave me books or art supplies to take back to Baoba. I truly would not be able to do this job without the love and support of all of you.

I am blessed to have such amazing family and friends and to live in a country where running water, showers and electricity are the norm. Can't wait to see you all again in November 2010, and don't forget that I am always welcoming visitors.

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.