Thursday, March 31, 2011

Motos and Santeria

I want a motorcycle.  I have never had this desire before, but #1. They are fun!  #2.  Everyone has one.   And #3.  Women look really cool driving around town on their motos.  They are also generally wearing 5 inch heels and skinny jeans, which I don’t really own.   At least my hair blows in the wind…

Alas, I am not allowed to drive any vehicle the entire time I am here as a volunteer, so I’ll have to settle for riding on the back of motoconchos to get around town.   (And, of course, always wear my Peace Corps-issued helmet.)   It is kind of funny to walk into the high school here and see the entire front lawn full of motorcycles.   You know, normal.   And at night people just drive around in circles on their motos looking for something interesting to happen.   Literally. 

We’ve been in this town for about a week, and nothing too crazy has happened yet. Last Friday we were sent on a scavenger hunt around town to take pictures of things such as:  an entire family on a moto, someone carrying something on their head, a farmer with a machete,  a Santeria shop, a woman in rollers, etc.etc.  Normal DR stuff.  Anyway, my group ended up with a tour guide – some joven who took a liking to me and another volunteer.  This seemed harmless, until we found ourselves led to a smoky building down by the river where a bunch of people were sitting around a fire.   (Note: fires generally aren’t lit in 88 degree weather.)   It appeared that our new buddy just wanted to show us Americanas off to his friends, though he told us he was taking us to see the baseball field.   The people around the fire were very hospitable… and invited us to the fiesta de palo they were having the next night.

Fiesta de Palo:  Satanic ritual that calls the dead?  Something along those lines.   Dominicans give very mixed reviews of the whole thing.  Some are like, “Only Satan worshipers go to those!”  Others are like, “Nah, they’re good people, they just like to dance and drink, no biggy.  Oh, they do call on spirits too, but whatever.”   Tu sabes.

No, I did not go to the fiesta.   Though it would be cool to go to one with a group of Dominicanos that I have confianza with at some point.  I’ve got two years to go in a non-sketchy manner.

Conclusion:  I got back to my house and told my “cousin” and her boyfriend about this guy who was leading us around, and the fiesta de palo and the Santeria shop.   Her boyfriend was like, “Ay, Dios.  Conociste Richard.”  Um?  “Yeah, he’s a thief.  He was in jail for a little while for robbery.”  Awesome.   This is the kind of person who will offer to take a picture for you and then run off with your camera.  Good thing we didn’t let Richard use the camera… 

Woman in her Santeria shop. 

Fire by the river... location of the Fiesta de Palo.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Some photos of mis hermanitos in Santo Domingo...

With Katy and Lili on the roof in Los Cocos

Typical night: dominos and dancing on the porch.   All locos. 

Katy, Fradul, Lili

A view of the barrio from the roof.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

My job and stuff.


I’m in a new town with a new family.   El Seibo is pretty darn nice.   24-hour luz, no roosters outside my window (at least I haven’t heard any yet), no colmado across the street… tranquilo.  And thank God for that, cause the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with me.

Despite that, it was pretty sad to leave host family numero uno this morning.   My brothers both had la gripe (ie. a cold) and sat on the couch watching me get myself together, coughing a lot, and saying “No te vayas.”  Very sweet, in a pathetic sneezing kind of way.  Last night Katy, Lili and I played our last card games and drank our last habichuela con dulce together (ie. Beans + lots of sugar + blender = dessert. Looks gross, but is surprisingly delicious).   And when I say “last,” I mean until the end of April when I go back to this family for a week…  so really they should stop being so dramatic about it.

Also, to conclude that whole “you would look good in this dress” story:  I got back from visiting Bani (a small city in the south, only about an hour from Santo Domingo) last Sunday, conveniently too late to go shopping with mami.   She sadly told me that she had looked for the dress and couldn’t find it, buuut...  She did get me a bright blue tank-top that says “Baby” across the front in gold sequined script and is way too tight.   SO DOMINICAN.   I haven’t convinced myself to wear it in public yet, but I’m sure that day will come.  Love it.

Back to the present:  I am in El Seibo, under my mosquitero… with wi-fi.

You might wonder why Peace Corps has placed me in a house that has wireless internet.   Personally, I wonder why a house that has wireless internet doesn’t also have water coming through the pipes.  But such is the Dominican Republic.   I will master the art of the bucket bath in no time.   Flushing the toilet is a different story.

Anyway, we are in this nice, calm town with 24-hour luz (this literally means “light,” but that’s what they call electricity here) for training because we can’t sit around all day waiting for the luz to come back when we have limited time to learn what we need for our jobs…  Which I realize I have not even mentioned since starting this blog.

MY JOB:  I am here as an ICT (Information/Communication Technologies) Volunteer.  That’s what it says on all my papers anyway.   In actuality, I will be focusing more on adult literacy, which I am really excited about.  ICT volunteers are supposed to work in basic computer education/projects, largely with youth but also with other demographics.  But they are starting to just call my sector “Education” because that is the overarching theme, and adult literacy is emerging as a big project for the sector.   I don’t know exactly what this will look like yet, but I’ll generally be developing literacy programs, working with teachers, teaching some stuff myself… maybe building libraries…  Vamos a ver.   I could also very easily be working with computers and youth as well.  I hope I can do it all actually – youth are fun.  But I won’t know the details until I am holding my site placement and project details in my hands, which won’t happen until the end of training… so check back in May to find out where I’ll be living and what I’ll really be doing for the next two years!

To put this all in perspective – despite the fact that I have internet, and am in a country that half of you have probably been to for vacation, the Dominican Republic ranks 129 of 133 countries in education. So… every country that you think has a horrible or non-existent public education system?  The DR is worse.  (Except for those last 4 countries, obviously.  I have yet to find out what they are.)  Many, many people reach adulthood (which could be as young as 15, if you happen to be a girl who gets pregnant and can’t go to school anymore) without learning how to read.   And if you can’t read in your own language, who cares about using a computer or learning English? 

In short, I am excited to work on literacy because it is the most basic of all education needs.  If I can develop a sustainable literacy program somewhere (by working with teachers, not just teaching classes myself), I will have accomplished something real in this country, even if it is only for a small group of people.  So, that’s my hope for now.  

And I think I’m going to have a pleasant 5 weeks in this town. 

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

A note on tigueres... and being treated like a princess.


Being a woman here, especially a white American woman, kind of means being in a danger zone.   It’s not that I am in danger (unless I do stupid things), but the “tiguere” culture is such that men are extremely aggressive and women’s reputations are really important.  ie. The possibility of having male friends (who agree that we are just friends) is kind of unlikely.   I’m hoping it will be possible to be friends with Dominicans my own age (male and female) in my community, but it is really more likely that my best Dominican friends will be children/teenagers, and woman above 35.   Educated guess.  Women my age will most likely already have children and be really busy.   And if I hang out with men my own age, all the women in the community will probably hate me (or at least not trust me), and all the men will think I’m “that kind of woman.”  A slippery slope.  I was hoping that this was kind of exaggerated, but my experiences so far are confirming it.   Then again, this is only the beginning of week 3...

Tiguere is a really interesting word.  It is generally used to describe men, but can range from extremely positive to extremely negative.  Tiguere could describe someone who is really smart and successful, but it could also describe the lazy guy sitting at the colmado all day, drinking a beer and yelling piropos (come-ons) at every woman who passes by.

Some examples:
1. Our language classes took a trip to downtown Santo Domingo to visit the Peace Corps office.   This required walking out to the road to catch a guagua (bus), which they keep filling with people until there is no chance of anyone else squeezing in there.  (The general philosophy of public transportation in the DR:  “We can fit one more!”)  My teacher walked us really far down the road, away from the other groups, to catch the guagua first.  As we rode past, waving at the other groups from our full bus with bachata blaring out the open windows, another teacher yelled to ours, “Eres un tiguere!”   More or less meaning, “You jerk!” in a joking way.  

2. When I play dominos with my hermanitos and the little one mocks all the others when she wins, and starts dancing around the patio in victory, she is a tiguera.  ie. She has a big personality and attitude… I think she’s hilarious.   She is also definitely a tramposa.  (Cheater.)

3.  If I were to get into a crowded carro publico and have my wallet stolen by some ladron, he would also be a tiguere.  In a bad way… 

So this word is ingrained in the culture here, and means a million different things depending on context and tone... 



In other news:

My life with this family is kind of loco.  I mean, they are extremely nice and wonderful, but I also feel like I am being put on some crazy pedestal above their own children.  This makes me uncomfortable… for example, as I write this, I am sitting on the couch with mami, papa, Frendi and Katy.  They are treating me like a princess.  Mami is literally petting my hair as I write this, papa just served me a glass of some vanilla milkshake thing he concocted, and Frendi is telling me that I would look good in some dress they are looking at in a magazine.  I am trying not to laugh.   

This weekend I am going to visit a volunteer in another town to see her project and experience how she is living a year into her service.  Now mami is asking me if I will get back early enough on Sunday to go shopping with her so we can buy this dress that Frendi thinks will look good… Katy says, “Mami!  Why don’t you take me shopping?”   Um, weird.   

Also, mami just changed my sheets and gave me a SILK pillowcase.   When I got here the bed definitely was not made with silk sheets… now I get silk.  She also handed me a pineapple and told me that she traveled to the best mercado in a different neighborhood to buy it, instead of our local mercado because apparently that wasn’t good enough.  They were too small or something.  Oy vey.   How many times can I say, “Gracias!  No necisitaba hacer eso!”  They are very sweet.  But it really is like I am constantly being watched, my happiness level constantly being evaluated.   Good thing I’m pretty happy.

So all this is how I know my family loves me… after two weeks.   And in one more week, I move to another town for community-based training (as opposed to the general group training we are doing now) and I’ll have a different family for the month of April.  Then I come back here for a week and a half before being placed somewhere in the country and living with ANOTHER family for my first 3 months in my community.  This family is actually the one that I will spend the least amount of time with, and they are already asking me if they can call me when I don’t live here anymore.  I hope I get along with my next two families as well as I do with this one.

Ahora, the kids are in the kitchen singing and doing the dishes and inserting my name into children’s songs… “Laura la exploradora,” “Laura tiene una banda, ei-ay ei-ay oh.” “Entonces Laura, entonces Laura…” (I don’t think that last one’s a children’s song actually…)  They keep looking over at me to make sure I’m amused.  I am.






Thursday, March 10, 2011

Home life


As could be expected, the internet did not come through in the house (Dominicans have a way of saying yes to things when they really mean "probably not") and I am once again in the cafe down the street.  Shocker.  But I wanted to give an idea of my host family, so here is what happened my first Saturday in Santo Domingo:

I woke up at 7:30 because los gallos wouldn’t shut up, and also because my body is conditioned to wake up around 7 these days.  Everyone else (meaning mis “padres” y four “hermanitos”) was already awake – Don Pedro (mi papa) was out in the calle con sus amigos, Doña Elba (mami) left around 5 to sell her café on the corner, and I have no idea what the kids were doing, with the exception of Frendi (18) who was going to work a half-day in the factory.  I have yet to figure out what he makes, though he tried to explain it to me.

I sat out on the patio for a while, reading and writing a bit… trying to anyway.  It’s hard for me to concentrate on things like that when I’m in a new place.   So I kind of just sat on the porch for a while, listening to the bachata that was already blasting from the colmado across the street until the girls, Lili (10) y Katerin (13) showed up and we mixed up some eggs with onions and peppers to make breakfast.  Mami was really happy when she walked in at 9:30 and found me cooking with her daughters. My other “brother,” Fraduh (15), made fun of us for being women in the kitchen… par for the course.  

After a bit of relaxation, mi madre wanted me to go to the market with her.  So we took a 10-minute ride in a stuffed carro publico (basically a taxi that picks up tons of people and drops them where they want to go – I was squished next to some woman in the front seat and mami was in the back with four other people), and ended up at a crowded outdoor market.  Loud, smelly, claustrophobic… basically what you’d expect from an outdoor market in Santo Domingo or anywhere else.  It was cool to see it, especially with a Domincana who holds my hand in a crowd like I really am her daughter.  (So mom and dad, you can rest assured that I am being very well taken care of for the time being – she gave me a long talk today about how dangerous it is to walk around alone and how I should always be with other volunteers or Dominicans.  Also she calls me “mi amor.")  I definitely got the perspective of locals, watching as she did her shopping for veggies and fruits and spices, etc.  She keeps asking me what I like and is really pleased when I say “todo.”  After a few more weeks of eating Dominican food maybe I’ll find things I don’t like (probably involving animal organs), but that hasn’t happened yet.  

When we finally got back to the house, she cooked a creamy pasta dish and some fried plantains, and after everyone ate we all took a siesta.  When I woke up she made me coffee with lots of sugar (sugar with some coffee might be more accurate), and then we embarked on our second shopping trip. This time we went to an actual supermarket – it’s probably the most America-like place you can find around here.  Got a few more things and came back around 6:30.  I proceeded to spend the next 2 hours playing dominos with Lili, Katerin y Frendi.  We took a little break for dinner and then continued with the game until we couldn’t ignore the music BLASTING from the colmado anymore.  Lili started it – I have never seen a 10 year old with moves like that.   She is seriously impressive, and super fun.  They all are really.  The four of us danced for a long time around the patio, living room, kitchen to bachata, reggaeton, merengue, whathaveyou.  My moves and ability to sing along to a lot of the songs earned me some street cred with the hermanos, so gracias a Dios for the last year and a half in DC.  We had a legitimately great time.  By 1 AM, I was sitting on my bed under my mosquito net (a simple, yet ingenious invention), with no possibility of sleep for at least another few hours because that colmado was STILL raging.  I probably won’t spend another Saturday night in the house while I’m in Santo Domingo… it’s better to be out dancing at the party than trying to sleep through it.  Though our kitchen dancing was a solid substitution. 

In conclusion, I got lucky with my first host family.  Sometimes mi madre is a little too welcoming – giving me the biggest plate of food and keeping a few special glasses for only me to drink from!  It makes me really uncomfortable when, for example, she tells Katerin to cook me breakfast or something.  I insist on at least cooking the breakfast together, and doing at least some of the dishes.  Also, my Spanish is a lot better than I thought.  I'm not having much trouble communicating, and I sometimes find myself speaking Spanish when I mean to speak English... so that's cool. 

That was last weekend.  This weekend will (hopefully) involve the beach, some fiestas, and a guided tour through the old city.  Also I'm being dragged to an Evangelical church on Sunday night with mi madre.... I've heard it will involve lots of screaming and I'll probably have a headache by the 3 hour point, but I'm all for new cultural experiences. 

Sidenotes: 
- In case this wasn’t clear, colmados are little stores with open fronts that sell some food, drinks, etc, and generally play loud music.  On Saturday nights (and many other nights), they all turn into fiestas.  There are tons around the barrio and there happens to be one directly across the street from my house.  It’s really affecting my life right now. 
- Also, so you don't think that Peace Corps is just some big party in the barrio, I am having actual training during the week, and it will get a lot more intense very soon, but more on that later.... 

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Here, safe, happy!

Hola todos!

I´ve been trying to post something here almost since I got to Santo Domingo, which was exactly a week ago today!  It feels like much longer already, in a ¨It was winter where I came from?¨ kind of way.  So much has happened in the last week.  To summarize (a lot):

I am living with a big, crazy Dominican family in a barrio in Santo Domingo, attending training every day with 51 fellow Peace Corps volunteers, and generally having a great time.  Who doesn´t love tropical weather, speaking Spanish, and dancing every day?  This culture is kind of ideal for me... although I could do without the bachata and reggeaton blasting from the colmado across the street from my house when I´m trying to sleep at night.  And the roosters crowing at 3 AM, 4 AM, 5 AM, 6 AM, etc etc.  So my main problem is exhaustion really.  On the plus side, my family definitely supports the siesta, which (as many of you know) I take advantage of as often as possible. 

I am running out of time at the internet cafe, but my ¨brother¨ tells me he´s going to hook me up with internet tonight in my house... that promise has been on the table since day 2 though, so I´m not holding my breath.

Hasta pronto!  (I hope.)