I’ve had a great week! I’ve been meeting still more people everyday and I’ve officially lost any shyness, or vergüenza, that I had when I arrived. I have come to think of my job right now as the best practice I’ll ever get for my future political career, sticking my hand out and saying hey to everyone! Fascinating people live in this world! This week’s blog is about a few things I’ve come to realize are corrupt.
On lights and politics:
Supposedly, there’s a regular schedule for electricity here in Manzanillo. One day it comes on at 8am and lasts until 1pm, then is gone until 6pm and leaves again at 10pm. Then you’ve got lights from 2am to 5am (stupid time for lights) and then again at 1pm to 6pm the next day. And then the schedule starts over again. That’s confusing enough if you ask me. What’s more is that 100% of the time it doesn’t come on when it’s supposed to and you’re left without lights for twelve to eighteen hours a day. To address this problem, an organization I now belong to, COPRODEMA (Coalition for the Development of Manzanillo) has been working on putting together a petition to ask the government for twenty hours of electricity daily. I asked why and they responded, “Because asking for twenty-four would be asking too much.” If I learned one thing in my college negotiations class, it’s to shoot high in order to get what you want in the end. Starting out asking twenty hours and we’ll be left where we started. So as mildly as I could (so as not to seem like an intruder), I suggested in the weekly meeting that we ask for twenty-four and see what happens. The next day when the government representative came and the coalition asked for a full twenty-four hours, which I’m darn proud of. In the end they settled for a negotiated eighteen hours. We’ll see if anything changes, but it’s sure better than eight.
So why is the amount of lights related to politics? The realization came about last week when we had an above average amount of electricity for five days in a row and when I asked what was up, someone pointed out that the President, Danilo Medina, was up in the north for business and therefore we were getting at least twelve hours a day for five days instead of the average eight. Seems unjust? Yes, it is. And apparently, during election cycles every four years, there’s running water and electricity twenty-four hours a day in all parts of the country so that they can say, “Look! We’re doing something for you countryfolk, vote for us!” How you can just turn on and off the electricity for mass amounts of people I’ll never know, but it’s extremely frustrating, especially when it’s all wrapped up in politics.
On clothing donations and Toms shoes:
You know how you feel good about yourself when you buy a pair of $50 Toms shoes because another pair goes to a kid in need? Yeah, well that “kid in need” happened to be me last week. I went to this border town called Dajabon, known around the country for it’s weekly market where Haitians cross the border and sell everything from ginger, Crocs and ramen noodles to oddly stained bedding, Christmas themed pillows, broken microwaves, fly swatters, Purell hand sanitizer from Korea, and knockoff Prada purses. It’s a barterer’s dream come true! I thought it was going to be my worst nightmare, but it wasn’t so bad. I’m used to markets where people are trying to sell you everything and shoving it in your face, but the Haitians selling their goods were pretty tranquil, usually just lying on top of their merchandise taking a nap or protecting it from thieves.
There was lot’s of used clothing that looked just like it had just come from the insides of the Planet Clothing bin a few blocks away from my college apartment in Boston. I asked around, and sure enough, the clothing items were all donations that Haitians bring into the DR to sell for their own profit. My first thought was that this was rather depressing, that we are sold this image of being a do-gooder if we send our old jackets and t-shirts to resource scarce people in underdeveloped countries and here they are selling that right back to me. But here’s the thing – they don’t need winter jackets or worn out swimsuits, they need to feed their family. They don’t need ramen noodles, bars of Dove soap, or Prilosec medicine. They want to eat food they know, like pollo criollo and huevos sancochado. They need prescription drugs and often hard to find diabetes medications. They need what we can’t give them by donating old t-shirts, Ritz crackers and multivitamins.
So when I finally left the market, with Crocs I bought for $2 and a pound of ginger for 25 cents, I felt okay about the cycle of international donations…until I got home and started talking to others about it. Apparently, it’s worse than I thought. The international bundles of clothing, culturally inappropriate food and useless medicine are sent to ports where a handful of rich Haitians collect the goods and bring them to a warehouse where poor Haitians go to buy the stuff, lug it to the border and sell it finally in the DR. It’s a business (a lucrative one for an already wealthy few) and one of the best arguments I’ve found to date against international aid.
Oh, and Toms shoes. Yeah, they were selling those things like hotcakes. Maybe they keep a pair or two for themselves, but I’m pretty sure any good Tom thinks he’s doing by giving a pair of shoes to someone in need, is being undone by sending them to rich Haitians who sell them for profit to poor Haitians who sell them for profit to poor Dominicans. And I’ve got two pairs sitting here on my floor, eugh.
On motivation:
I’ve been talking to my other Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) friends and they all echo the same sentiment, this is hard work. There is usually something really awesome and really challenging about someone’s site. For instance, my good friend Grayson lives in a highly motivated community with a bunch of women ready to kick ass and start a health group, but they lack a lot of financial resources as a community to make it happen. My friend Chaz has a million resources at his disposal because he lives an hour away from the capital, but he doesn’t know what’s the most useful way to spend his time helping the community. My friend Dante lives in Santiago and his town is huge, but he gets to work in a high school and partner closely with the school psychologist to start his groups and use space for meeting in the school.
And in Manzanillo, the good: a women’s group that already functions, a high school with a great director and 200 energetic students, a middle school without a sex-ed curriculum, and two health clinics. The challenge: no one seems very motivated. I went to health clinic and met with the two health promoters who are supposed to visit homes in Manzanillo and check for proper sanitation and hygiene. When I asked how often they work, they replied, when the government sends us toothbrushes. What? I asked. They replied, “When we get toothbrushes sent from the capital, we go to the elementary school and hand them out. That’s our work for now because we’re too tired to do more than that and it takes a lot of time.” Yes, I thought to myself, that’s why it’s called work, it should take eight hours a day (is that my capitalism side coming out too strong?). And in the women’s group, there is supposedly a group of fifty but I’ve been to three weekly meetings and have yet to count more than seven. And at the high school, well, they’re adolescents, nuff said. And in COPRODEMA, there’s no organization because they’re in debt. Basically what I’m hearing from people is “Ain’t nobody got time for that” and what I’m seeing is people sitting in chairs. So why the lack of motivation? I have yet to figure it out but it’s my job to find it and put it back in the capable hands of Manzanielleros. And all this finding motivation in others takes a lot of motivation on my part. So far I’m going strong, hope to keep it up until I can get my group’s started, rolling, and excited by early February.
That’s enough food for thought for this week! This weekend should be a good one. Tomorrow, a huge town-wide baseball tournament (with series of games everyday until January 16th) begins with with a parade down main street and I'll be taking part. And on Sunday, my host cousin and friends Jhanna and Macho are getting married, so that'll be fun! Then on Wednesday, I'm off to the capital for Thanksgiving with other PCVs, yummmm!
As always send updates from your lives!
Sending peloteras, warmth from the Caribbean sun, and dembow mixes.
Missing toilets that flush, drinking water from the sink, and being cold.
Mil besos,
Bea
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