Goals

I have about a month left of my diagnostic period, and I’m definitely ready to start some of my own projects.   The literacy program is in need of a complete overhaul, and working with a large organization (which has little understanding of the reality of their projects) makes community work very difficult.  I need some smaller and more achievable endeavors to keep me sane as I continue to try to keep half the community (and four other communities?) motivated to learn to read.  Yup… I’m working on staying positive.  In the meantime, I’ve had a lot of time to think about all the things I’d like to do during my time here in Tabara Arriba (and in the Dominican Republic in general):

·      Teach some people to read. 

·      Work with youth!

o   A health education program, covering topics such as AIDS, sexual health and safety, violence, alcohol abuse, etc.  Seriously needed, especially family planning…

o   An art program for kids.  Something to inspire them to actually be creative.  It would be cool if this could involve a mural of the world on some wall… most people have no idea where anything is in the world, including half of their own country.  (You might be able to say the same thing for a lot of Americans actually.)

o   A business plan!  Peace Corps has a business plan competition for youth, in which a group comes up with a plan for a business they think is feasible in their community.  After participating in a 3-month course and writing a full business plan (definitely the longest and most detailed thing they will ever have written), they may qualify for the Peace Corps competition, in which the winners receive a little funding to start their business!  I can’t teach this course until next summer, but it’s on my list.  (To those of you who are thinking, “Laura? Business? What?” Have a little faith!)

o   Whatever else comes up.

·      Try to inspire some teachers to actually want to do their jobs/give them more tools and training to do them.  (Probably my most challenging goal…)

·      Go on a medical mission:  Peace Corps volunteers have the opportunity to go on medical missions to act as translators for foreign doctors!  These are generally week-long missions with different focuses, depending on the doctors.  There are eye missions, cleft lip missions, etc, etc.  I’m really excited about this prospect.

·      Learn Haitian kreyol and work with Haitians.   (And go to Haiti.  This is forbidden during my time as a volunteer, but I fully plan to cross to the other side of this island in 2013.) 

·      Get a computer lab up and running in the high school?  We’ll see about that one.  Right now there’s computer graveyard in the high school…

·      Help the neighboring community build a library?  Perhaps.

·      Teach yoga/pilates?  At best, my community would get super into it and we’d end up with a workout revolution to burn off those rice and plantain bellies.  At worst, it would be amusing and some women would learn to stretch.  Nutrition classes could be a hit too… 

·      Climb Pico Duarte (the highest peak in the country, involving a 5-day camping trek with a guide and a donkey…)

·      See a lot of other volunteers’ sites, which range from mountains to beaches to the Haitian border to an island off the coast of this island… The DR is a pretty diverse landscape.

·      Learn a lot and become a much stronger facilitator in general.

I’d also like to attempt reading groups for children and parents, especially those who are in the literacy classes.  People don’t really have books here… even though my town actually has not one, but TWO libraries.  They’re tiny, and one of them doesn’t have many books, but the other has a pretty solid shelf unit full of literature. Only problem:  people can’t take books out.  No one is responsible enough to return them, and/or no one ever tries to take them out anyway.  I’ve spent some time in the libraries at this point… haven’t seen too many others hanging out there.  Reading’s not really a thing here.  People are concerned that I read too much and it’s going to drive me crazy.  Really.  There is a local crazy man (like, wanders-around-cackling-to-himself-and-drinking-coffee-in-every-house-on-the-block kind of crazy), and people like to tell me, “You know, Keki wasn’t always crazy… he used to be really smart.  He did really well in school.  But he studied too much and didn’t eat, and it drove him insane.”   Right.  They also claim that he can speak English.  Let me tell you, when Keki tries to speak English it comes out like, “Lkiseh, oieuwm msgehiblah!”  Then he lights a cigarette and blows smoke in my face and falls into a laughing fit, chattering about birds or something.  (This is actually funny… most people have to laugh when Keki laughs.)

Sidenote: almost everyone here has a nickname.  And once they have their nickname, which may have absolutely nothing to do with their actual name, most people forget their real name.  There’s Chepi, Pompa, Keki, Buton, Papo, Prieta, Moreno, and on and on and on.   Who knows any of their real names?  Their own families don’t remember!   Their best friends, cousins, siblings, children… half the time don’t know their real names.   People don’t really get why I find this so amusing.   But then, I find lots of things extremely amusing that people in my community don’t notice.  Like a man wearing a woman’s blouse or shoes that he doesn’t know are meant for a woman.   Or a tiguere driving down the street on a motorcycle carrying a bunch of babies.  How many people can we fit on this motorcycle?  Well, three regular size people, if we pegar como anoche (literally: “squeeze like last night.” Such a Dominican saying.), but if we’re talking about babies… we can fit at least six babies!  This is funny because of the number of babies, but also because of the punk who’s carrying them… Love it.  Tigueres here are still beloved members of the community, despite their delinquency.

Also, assuming that they’re mostly harmless, sometimes it pays to have enamorados – especially ones with motorcycles and lots of free time, or ones who really like to go looking for fruit.  I have a chinola man who is apparently half crazy… he asked my host mom where I came from and what I’m doing here (something that lots of people are probably still confused about…) and she was like: “She’s from the United States.  I wrote to them and asked for an American and they sent her right away.  All I had to do was go to Santo Domingo to pick her up… you should ask the U.S. for one too!”  His response: “Wow!  Que bueno!  Here, I brought her more fruit, make her a batida (milkshake)!”   I laughed pretty hard when she repeated this conversation to me (and handed me my batida).   It’s also kind of mean, trying to engañar some loco who brings us bags bursting with chinola and pineapple from the loma so that we can make tons of delicious fresh juice.  You too can get your very own American!  Ha.  My host mom’s pretty cool.