This has got to be a joke. This is the fourth time (that I know of) since February that I’ve been robbed in this country, but this time, I don’t know when it happened or who it was.
I guess I’m just too trusting of people. I let them into my house, give them coffee and food, listen to them talk about the rain, the work, the lucha (struggle)… and I should have learned by now that leaving my wallet out is not a good idea. One of the problems is that I am not used to having to be so vigilant with my things especially with the people I trust. Every person that has been in my house the past 2 days (which is when the incident happened) has been someone who I trust and who I thought I had confianza with. I guess no matter what amount of trust I have with these people, in their eyes, I am still an American with money.
I have to find a good hiding place for my valuables, but it is sometimes tough in this one-room, tiny house. Many PCVs have a rule that people can’t come into their bedrooms and they just keep their valuables in there. Unfortunately, my bedroom is my living room which is my kitchen and my dining room… so it’s somewhat difficult for me to rope off a place (maybe a corner?) in the house from these people and someone with sticky fingers knows that and took full advantage of it by swiping my wallet.
Anyway, luckily we only have one week left of September, which means I’ve spent most of my monthly stipend. Unfortunately, the ladron took all the money I have left for the rest of the month. Gracias a Dios, I still have some pocket change which will buy me a few eggs and some bread.
The part that sucks the most about this is not the money (in fact, Peace Corps will probably help me out if I need it); it’s the feeling of being violated in my own house by someone that I know and trust. This happened to Rita (my good friend here from Spain) a couple of years ago. Someone broke into her house and stole all her valuables. It was someone who knew exactly where she hid everything (a friend who had to have visited her a few times) and since she never found out who it was, it’s someone who she still greets on the street and treats as a friend and probably has over to her house. Though on smaller scale, that is what’s going to happen for me. One of my “friends” will continue to be “friend” and might even be invited back over for coffee or a chat or one of my delicious meals (mac ‘n’ cheese, anyone?)… and I will just have to be creative about keeping my things away from those sticky fingers. Or maybe from now on I will just tell everyone that Peace Corps is tired of me getting robbed and told me that I can’t have people in my house anymore. Think they’ll buy it?
Bienvenida to your second year here, Tarita! It’s a great start. What would another year in the Peace Corps be without a little bit of drama anyway?
Cheers!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!
Today, September 13, is the one-year anniversary for the group of 50+ volunteers who arrived in country with me on this day last year. The intense range of emotions that I felt at that time still reverberate inside of me – from excitement for a new adventure to anxiety about what I’d encounter, from ecstasy that the day had finally come to sorrow from leaving friends and family. I worried about a hundred different things as our plane flew over the ocean to the island I would soon call my home: Did I bring the right clothes? Did I pack the right things? Will Dave be able to visit me soon? What if my host family doesn’t like me? Is it really 3 whole months of training? Why? Where will I be placed? What kind of project will I be assigned? Will I like the people I work with? Can Dave and I make it through this? Will Spanish come back to me after 2 years of not using it? Will they have tofu? Will I be able to go home for a visit? Am I really going to make a difference there?…etc. All of these questions ran through my mind repeatedly, but my main uncertainty was “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” followed closely by, “How am I going to make it the 2+ years that I signed up for?”
Actually, I sometimes still ask myself those last two questions, but after reflecting on a full year of living in one of the most beautiful countries and in some of the most difficult situations, those uncertainties have faded and are overshadowed by an overwhelming sense that this journey has been the most influential life experience that I’ve had so far in my 25 years on the earth and definitely well worth it. This experience has been significant not only in the skills I’ve gained from actually living and working in a developing country, which definitely poses challenges that I must deal with in my everyday life, but also in the way this experience, as a whole, has aided me in furthering my personal quest of personal growth, so that I will leave this world a better soul.
Okay, so just what has this crazy gringa learned in her first year (I can’t believe it’s already been a year!) of her Peace Corps adventure?!?
Well, I have obviously learned a great deal about the Dominican Republic – the people, the culture, the politics, the food… and I’ve grown to love it, in spite of the things that really bother me about the culture (machismo, for one, corruption for another). I’ve learned that I can make very good Dominican friends in spite of our cultural differences, but that I would probably not make a very good Dominican wife. I’ve learned that I love bachata, I need more salsa practice, and that merengue is kind of boring (unless your dance partner is a very good leader). I’ve learned that I love rice and beans, that I still don’t like meat (though I’ve learned to eat it), that I love viveres, that I cannot get enough of DR avocados, and that I actually can drink a whole cup of coffee, if it’s offered to me (ew!).
Although I do love it here, I have gained a newfound respect for where I’m from. I’ve come to realize how incredibly lucky I was to be born in the USA, to be raised with the experiences that I’ve had and to have the opportunity to do the work I’m doing today, which would not be possible without my parents, who have provided for me everything I’ve needed and more. My parents have given me love and support throughout the years and the many decisions I’ve made (whether or not they’ve agreed with them). They’ve let me have my freedom and choose my life path, which is not a characteristic common in many cultures, or even in all families in our country. For their incredible influence, I am grateful… and I realize that they would not have had the chance to raise me the way they did without the freedom that our government (as imperfect as I feel it is sometimes) gives us. We live in great country, and sometimes it just takes being away from it for a long period of time to realize it; that is certainly what has happened for me.
Anyway, apart from the love that I’ve gained for the DR and America, I’ve come to know and love myself more this year as well. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I definitely have felt a personal growth spurt this past year, in which I have learned more than I can describe (I couldn’t possibly put my lessons into a comprehensible summary; besides, my words wouldn’t do it justice) about myself and my personal relationships.
When you’re stuck in a situation where you are forced to be alone, which often happens in Peace Corps – and I’m not talking about physical isolation, where there is just simply no one around (I am surrounded by people almost every day); I’m talking about an loneliness which results from having no one around you that knows where you’ve come from, that knows anything about your culture (besides the latest Shakira songs), that understands your need for privacy or vegetarianism… that basically understands why you are who you are because of your shared cultural background… when you’re stuck in that type of situation, you are forced to make friends with the one person around that really understands you – YOU. And I think all volunteers have come to know themselves better through this experience, myself not excluded.
Part of this personal growth has come about because of the many life experiences I’ve been through this past year:
- Fighting dengue fever (and getting lost while trying to make my way, on legs that barely moved, from Moca to the Peace Corps medical office in Santo Domingo) after only 10 days of being in country; it was so tempting to pack up and go home. I learned pretty early on that this journey was going to require my “fighter” side.
- Getting mugged in the streets of Santo Domingo on my 25th birthday – another moment when I called mom to tell her I wanted to come home. Also another moment when my Darwin “survival of the fittest” instincts kicked in, which resulted in me chasing the guy in my jean skirt and cowboy boots through the dark alleys of Santo Domingo (perhaps not the smartest move); at least we can laugh about it now.
- Living without hot water, tile/wooden floors, paved streets, an oven, a microwave, a toaster, a TV, sometimes electricity, sometimes water, a washer and dryer (or at least a Laundromat), fast food (esp. Taco Bell and Subway), a feather mattress, a car, regular access to internet, a good cell phone plan… oh wait, an income… and realizing that those luxuries are just that – luxuries – and people do live without them all over the world, and so can I.
- Coping with loneliness, at which I’ve never been very good, but I must say I handle pretty well now, to the point where I actually kind of like it sometimes.
- Abbie Mae. Owning my first dog… … well the first one that is mine – not Brad’s or Allie’s or Mom’s. She has brought me so much joy and companionship every day, as well as a sense of responsibility that I’ve never had before. (Note to self: if dogs are this much work, wait to have kids.)
- Losing the biggest love of my life and having to learn to let it go – not an easy task at any age/place/time, and definitely not helped by my current situation. I still do find myself missing Dave some days, and I can’t decide if it was the magnitude of our love that has made the break so difficult or my circumstances that have not allowed me to let go as quickly as I would have liked to (it’s not exactly like I have a group of my closest girlfriends to go out with every night, which has always helped in the past with break-ups). At any rate, it was my biggest love, and the break-up has been one of the most challenging experiences I’ve ever faced. However, I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and the universe provides us with experiences like this to strengthen us. I know that this is the best possible situation for me at this time in my live and no matter what happens in the future, Dave and I share some amazing memories together and a truly special place in each others’ lives – and that cannot be taken away from me.
- Feeling the butterflies of “new love” again and being able to recognize them for what they are – just butterflies.
- My first meditation and exploring spirituality in new ways.
- Going through and overcoming a tough depression, which led me to meet the most amazing psychologist, who is partly (if not mostly) responsible for everything I’ve learned here.
- Practicing patience like I’ve never done before – in everything, from public transportation to projects for work.
- Learning how to say “no.”
- Visiting, listening to stories about, and watching my Aunt Pam, who is struggling with cancer, but, in spite of it all, has an incredibly upbeat attitude and pleasant demeanor, which I have faith will pull her through it.
- Having RD$500 stolen from me by my 10-year-old neighbor, teaching her better alternatives for earning money (baking brownies), and watching her react to her own mistake and learn from it with grace and humility. A big lesson learned for both of us.
- Finding happiness within myself, during the good times and the bad; I’ve come to realize that true and lasting happiness can only come from within – not from relationships with others, not from money, not from toys or possessions, or alcohol or drugs… people can be perfectly happy without any of those and that is one of my goals for my second year here – to learn how to obtain that lasting happiness which comes from within and cease from depending on outside factors for it.
- Working with an incredible group of volunteers who share my beliefs and passion for life and who inspire me every day to be a better person.
- Making the best friends I’ve ever had, who accept and love me for who I am, who are always on my side and don’t pass judgment for things I do or have done. I love my friends here and feel so lucky to have them in my life.
Well, those are just a sample of the experiences I’ve had so far in this Peace Corps adventure, which have forced me to feel, to laugh and cry, to love and hurt, to soar and crash, to live life fully and honestly and, most importantly, to grow into the person I’m becoming, into the person I will be years after this experience – an experience which will undoubtedly leave a deep mark on my soul and become engrained into my being forever…. and I am so happy for that.
It’s only been a year (we aren’t even halfway!), but I know I could leave now and come away with much more than I expected to get out of this two-year experience. I understand now why they tell us in training that often times a volunteer comes away from his experience feeling as though he gained so much more than he has given. I certainly feel that way. I only hope that in the next year I can influence these people and this country one tenth of the amount that they have influenced me. Wish me luck!
Peace and Love to all!
Recommended Readings:
Zen and the Art of Happiness by Chris Prentiss
Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui by Karen Kingston
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
Actually, I sometimes still ask myself those last two questions, but after reflecting on a full year of living in one of the most beautiful countries and in some of the most difficult situations, those uncertainties have faded and are overshadowed by an overwhelming sense that this journey has been the most influential life experience that I’ve had so far in my 25 years on the earth and definitely well worth it. This experience has been significant not only in the skills I’ve gained from actually living and working in a developing country, which definitely poses challenges that I must deal with in my everyday life, but also in the way this experience, as a whole, has aided me in furthering my personal quest of personal growth, so that I will leave this world a better soul.
Okay, so just what has this crazy gringa learned in her first year (I can’t believe it’s already been a year!) of her Peace Corps adventure?!?
Well, I have obviously learned a great deal about the Dominican Republic – the people, the culture, the politics, the food… and I’ve grown to love it, in spite of the things that really bother me about the culture (machismo, for one, corruption for another). I’ve learned that I can make very good Dominican friends in spite of our cultural differences, but that I would probably not make a very good Dominican wife. I’ve learned that I love bachata, I need more salsa practice, and that merengue is kind of boring (unless your dance partner is a very good leader). I’ve learned that I love rice and beans, that I still don’t like meat (though I’ve learned to eat it), that I love viveres, that I cannot get enough of DR avocados, and that I actually can drink a whole cup of coffee, if it’s offered to me (ew!).
Although I do love it here, I have gained a newfound respect for where I’m from. I’ve come to realize how incredibly lucky I was to be born in the USA, to be raised with the experiences that I’ve had and to have the opportunity to do the work I’m doing today, which would not be possible without my parents, who have provided for me everything I’ve needed and more. My parents have given me love and support throughout the years and the many decisions I’ve made (whether or not they’ve agreed with them). They’ve let me have my freedom and choose my life path, which is not a characteristic common in many cultures, or even in all families in our country. For their incredible influence, I am grateful… and I realize that they would not have had the chance to raise me the way they did without the freedom that our government (as imperfect as I feel it is sometimes) gives us. We live in great country, and sometimes it just takes being away from it for a long period of time to realize it; that is certainly what has happened for me.
Anyway, apart from the love that I’ve gained for the DR and America, I’ve come to know and love myself more this year as well. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I definitely have felt a personal growth spurt this past year, in which I have learned more than I can describe (I couldn’t possibly put my lessons into a comprehensible summary; besides, my words wouldn’t do it justice) about myself and my personal relationships.
When you’re stuck in a situation where you are forced to be alone, which often happens in Peace Corps – and I’m not talking about physical isolation, where there is just simply no one around (I am surrounded by people almost every day); I’m talking about an loneliness which results from having no one around you that knows where you’ve come from, that knows anything about your culture (besides the latest Shakira songs), that understands your need for privacy or vegetarianism… that basically understands why you are who you are because of your shared cultural background… when you’re stuck in that type of situation, you are forced to make friends with the one person around that really understands you – YOU. And I think all volunteers have come to know themselves better through this experience, myself not excluded.
Part of this personal growth has come about because of the many life experiences I’ve been through this past year:
- Fighting dengue fever (and getting lost while trying to make my way, on legs that barely moved, from Moca to the Peace Corps medical office in Santo Domingo) after only 10 days of being in country; it was so tempting to pack up and go home. I learned pretty early on that this journey was going to require my “fighter” side.
- Getting mugged in the streets of Santo Domingo on my 25th birthday – another moment when I called mom to tell her I wanted to come home. Also another moment when my Darwin “survival of the fittest” instincts kicked in, which resulted in me chasing the guy in my jean skirt and cowboy boots through the dark alleys of Santo Domingo (perhaps not the smartest move); at least we can laugh about it now.
- Living without hot water, tile/wooden floors, paved streets, an oven, a microwave, a toaster, a TV, sometimes electricity, sometimes water, a washer and dryer (or at least a Laundromat), fast food (esp. Taco Bell and Subway), a feather mattress, a car, regular access to internet, a good cell phone plan… oh wait, an income… and realizing that those luxuries are just that – luxuries – and people do live without them all over the world, and so can I.
- Coping with loneliness, at which I’ve never been very good, but I must say I handle pretty well now, to the point where I actually kind of like it sometimes.
- Abbie Mae. Owning my first dog… … well the first one that is mine – not Brad’s or Allie’s or Mom’s. She has brought me so much joy and companionship every day, as well as a sense of responsibility that I’ve never had before. (Note to self: if dogs are this much work, wait to have kids.)
- Losing the biggest love of my life and having to learn to let it go – not an easy task at any age/place/time, and definitely not helped by my current situation. I still do find myself missing Dave some days, and I can’t decide if it was the magnitude of our love that has made the break so difficult or my circumstances that have not allowed me to let go as quickly as I would have liked to (it’s not exactly like I have a group of my closest girlfriends to go out with every night, which has always helped in the past with break-ups). At any rate, it was my biggest love, and the break-up has been one of the most challenging experiences I’ve ever faced. However, I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and the universe provides us with experiences like this to strengthen us. I know that this is the best possible situation for me at this time in my live and no matter what happens in the future, Dave and I share some amazing memories together and a truly special place in each others’ lives – and that cannot be taken away from me.
- Feeling the butterflies of “new love” again and being able to recognize them for what they are – just butterflies.
- My first meditation and exploring spirituality in new ways.
- Going through and overcoming a tough depression, which led me to meet the most amazing psychologist, who is partly (if not mostly) responsible for everything I’ve learned here.
- Practicing patience like I’ve never done before – in everything, from public transportation to projects for work.
- Learning how to say “no.”
- Visiting, listening to stories about, and watching my Aunt Pam, who is struggling with cancer, but, in spite of it all, has an incredibly upbeat attitude and pleasant demeanor, which I have faith will pull her through it.
- Having RD$500 stolen from me by my 10-year-old neighbor, teaching her better alternatives for earning money (baking brownies), and watching her react to her own mistake and learn from it with grace and humility. A big lesson learned for both of us.
- Finding happiness within myself, during the good times and the bad; I’ve come to realize that true and lasting happiness can only come from within – not from relationships with others, not from money, not from toys or possessions, or alcohol or drugs… people can be perfectly happy without any of those and that is one of my goals for my second year here – to learn how to obtain that lasting happiness which comes from within and cease from depending on outside factors for it.
- Working with an incredible group of volunteers who share my beliefs and passion for life and who inspire me every day to be a better person.
- Making the best friends I’ve ever had, who accept and love me for who I am, who are always on my side and don’t pass judgment for things I do or have done. I love my friends here and feel so lucky to have them in my life.
Well, those are just a sample of the experiences I’ve had so far in this Peace Corps adventure, which have forced me to feel, to laugh and cry, to love and hurt, to soar and crash, to live life fully and honestly and, most importantly, to grow into the person I’m becoming, into the person I will be years after this experience – an experience which will undoubtedly leave a deep mark on my soul and become engrained into my being forever…. and I am so happy for that.
It’s only been a year (we aren’t even halfway!), but I know I could leave now and come away with much more than I expected to get out of this two-year experience. I understand now why they tell us in training that often times a volunteer comes away from his experience feeling as though he gained so much more than he has given. I certainly feel that way. I only hope that in the next year I can influence these people and this country one tenth of the amount that they have influenced me. Wish me luck!
Peace and Love to all!
Recommended Readings:
Zen and the Art of Happiness by Chris Prentiss
Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui by Karen Kingston
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Rain, Rain, Go Away!
I have always loved rainstorms. I guess I still do under normal circumstances, but rainstorms in the DR have started to become a bit of a pain in the ass. First, there’s my house. Every time it rains, I end up with a nice little lake inside my house and a flowing river in front of my house, which runs past my house and fills my neighbor’s house with water as well. So I spend a good majority of the storm not enjoying it, as I would like to, but sweeping water under the door so that the “lake” doesn’t overtake my little casita. Furthermore, all of the moisture in the air from these storms has caused mold to grow in interesting places – the walls, the door, the windows… my purse?
(My town gets ready for Hurricane Ike by pulling the boats ashore.)Then there’s my door. You see, it’s made of wood – the kind of wood that expands when it’s wet. So after each rainstorm, I can’t close my door, and when I finally do close it, I can’t open it (this 
has led to me having to sleep a couple of nights with my door slightly opened… might be a safety issue). I generally have to enlist help from one of my neighbors with a machete and a strong arm to help me open the door from the outside and then yell to someone walking by my house “AYUDAME… EMPUJE DURO!” (HELP… PUSH HARD!) to open the door from the inside. And when door no longer actually fits the frame and really doesn’t close, I have to call my landlord to come shave part of it off, which he does unenthusiastically with my kitchen knife.
And finally, there are the streets of my wonderful little pueblo… fabulously unpaved and thus incredibly muddy and sometimes completely flooded, they make for interesting walks whenever I need to go somewhere – the colmado, my friend’s house, a meeting. Quite a different experience from rainstorms in the US, where I’m generally safe in my car or in my house or at work without having to worry about sinking in the mud when I have to go from one place to the other.
We’ve had quite a few rainstorms lately, since we are in the middle of hurricane season. Hurricane Ike was the latest, which didn’t do as much damage as we thought it would. Unfortunately, I had to cancel my kids’ camp which was going to take place last weekend, with lots of fun activities, including a snorkeling adventure. Instead I was called in to the capital for consolidation, which lasted from Friday until Monday, and was, as it turns out, completely unnecessary for me. Apparently in Bayahibe, it was a beautiful, sunny weekend – perfect for a snorkeling trip.
And I was stuck in the capital, which usually isn’t a bad place to be for consolidation. Last year, when Olga came, we were consolidated in a nice hotel in the capital – Barcelo Lina, with hot water, a buffet, feather mattresses, AC, cable TV, a casino, etc. This time we were put up in the pension (where volunteers usually stay when we come to the capital because of its cheap rates), which is like a hostel, and possibly my least favorite place in the world… definitely in the country. The rooms are damp and uncomfortable, with as many as 10 people crowded into one room, each of us with our own twin-sized bed, terrible mattresses and pillows, cold water, mosquitoes and the rudest staff imaginable. (In fact, due to the rude staff, I’ve actually made it a point on several occasions to spend more money and stay at a hostel called Bella Epoca, which, although is more expensive and further from the Peace Corps office, is more pleasant because of the people who work there… just so you get an idea of how much I don’t like this place.)
But, in spite of the less-than-ideal living situation, we made the best of it. A few of my friends and I decided to welcome Hurricane Ike with a hurricane party, complete with hurricane drinks and a sancocho – a typical Dominican dish, which is basically a soup with every meat thinkable (which I happily left for my meat-eating friends) and every type of vivere (platanos, potatoes, yucca, etc) found in the DR. We mixed some hurricanes (151, Rum and chinola concentrate, blended with ice), devoured the sancocho and waited for the rain… and waited… and waited for the wind… and waited. Nothing. No rain. No wind. Nothing. So after we finished off the ingredients for the hurricanes, we left our dance party of 
American music mixed with bachata, salsa and reggaeton to go to a concert of a local Dominican band called Toque Profundo (Deep Touch). It was awesome – a great way to spend the evening, which I had originally thought would be spent staying in and watching a movie while it poured outside. It finally rained while we were at the concert but only for 2 minutes, which wasn’t enough to make us leave.
The downpour happened the next night, when a few of us went to a hookah bar – such a great find in this country. We actually got rained in at the restaurant; the cabs literally stopped running and the Santo Domingo streets flooded with water. So 
we ordered another bottle of wine and waited it out. When the rain finally stopped, we left the restaurant to find ourselves traipsing through knee-deep water back to my friend’s apartment. Quite an adventure.
So, after a trip to the capital, a hurricane party and a flood, Hurricane Ike is over for us, headed for the states, apparently, and I’m back in Bayahibe and back to work… at least until the next hurricane graces us with her presence.
Hope all is well on the home front. Miss you all!
*PEACE*
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