On marrying for money

I spent the better part of the morning translating text messages that my Spanish-speaking neighbor sent to his English-speaking bride in the Bahamas. He approached me as I was doing laundry and asked if I could help him translate. I usually get approached for weird gigs like this and I always say yes - whatever I can do to help I guess, a su orden. Usually people ask me to read their medicine bottles, expired medications they bought off the street and were probably once donations to the earthquake relief fund in Haiti, electronics instructions and high school English homework.

This time started out no differently, but you know those moments when you jump into something and it’s only after it ends that you realize what really happened? Well that’s what went down. Only after a few translated messages did I realize that I was negotiating a business deal between a man who married a woman (actually that’s a generous description, she is a 19-year old pregnant girl) for business. He is getting his papers to be able to work and live in the Bahamas, and ironically enough, send money back to his wife and four children here. He’s a fisherman, by no means wealthy but also not poor. He travels for 8-10 months of the year, sending money back to support his family and visiting for a month after every six months abroad.

Most of the text messages comprised of this child-bride saying, “I need money to go to the immigration office, I’m pregnant and won’t walk there.” And him telling me to respond, “Tell her that she needs to go to the office and ask for my papers. Tell her that she needs to convince them that she needs me to go there.” And then she’d say something about not having money again and he’d say, “I can’t give you money if you don’t get me the papers.” After half an hour, they were at a standstill. She wouldn’t go to the immigration office without transportation money and some kind of down payment (I can only assume) but he couldn’t get her the money until he was there. In my head, I kept thinking, even if this was legal, which it isn’t, this is a horribly thought out plan. Who just marries some young girl, doesn’t give her money or instructions, and expects her to walk miles down to the immigration office with a bulging baby belly and no plan?

Do I feel guilty about aiding my neighbor? Kind of. Do I feel weird about how I now see my neighbor? Yes. Do I feel like I can do anything? Nope. Maybe his heart is in the “right” place (in my mind, I interpret “right” as his desire to support his family), but I still refuse to believe that it’s the only option. And then there’s that girl sitting in the Bahamas, married to a flaky Dominican who can’t even send her money she thought would come easily once they were wed. And what of her sanctity? The part that really gets me is how easily my neighbor can talk about it, like he’s gabbing about the weather, and how unaffected he is by falsifying something as strong as marriage. I’ve never been one to know with all certainty that I’m going to get married. In fact, for much of my life I’ve been vehemently opposed to the idea. However, living on this island for two years has given me new perspective on the concept of marriage. That’s a damn strong bond, both legally and emotionally. It’s not easy to get out of and yet I watch so many people here marry for money, visas, the chance of a “better life.” But once that “life” happens, how do you backtrack? How do you then bring the people you truly love to America, or make enough money to stop fishing in the Bahamas and live here with your real family? How much does it cost to get out of a marriage? All of these things were on my mind as I sent the final text to this woman in Nassau, Bahamas waiting for her legal husband to send her money to support her actual family. My neighbor turned to me after and he said, I’m fucked aren’t I? I told him I didn’t really know but it did seem that he jumped into this business deal quite prematurely. She doesn’t know how to get you papers, I told him. Is “I’m sorry” the correct response? Who knows, but I said it anyway.

I walked away and thought to myself, shall I ever decide to marry, it’ll be because I truly deeply have thought about the institution and the person to which I would be committing myself. But not a millisecond later, I realized how lucky I am to have that option – to marry should I wish and to not marry if I don’t. My fortunate background and culture have given this option to me, but the world is a vicious place, one where this backwards-moral-means-to-an-end is ever too abundant.

On a tribute to the Montecristi crew

To get materials for groups, decent food options, a solid internet connection, or delicious fried chicken, I have to head to the nearest town - Montecristi. It's a beautiful beach town a motorcycle and bus ride away from me. Here are some shots of the big pueblo!

Salt mines - you can buy a 5lb bag of salt rocks for $1USD.

Ocean water is pumped into salt flats and the sun dries it out in a few days, leaving salt crystals for workers to shovel up in wheelbarrows and deposit in these storage huts.

Montecristi has beaches, but the best part, perhaps, are the seven sand bars just a 20 minute boat ride off the coast. 

Friends and beach, what could be better?

I took the path less traveled by...

And that has made all the difference. 

Sand bars off the coast of Montecristi!

Only one hour after this and we'd be gorging ourselves on tour guide Soraya's homemade cheese-filled yuca balls, rice, fish and natural seven-fruit juice.

Andy and I during carnival celebrations, don't leave me Andy!!!

The crew - Lauren, me and Andy...only missing Julie, who left us last August :( 

Beach selfie!

Julie! In a photo I resurrected from our last true beach day in August 2014.

Lilo - our favorite restaurant and the only place to go for solid, reliable internet in the entire province.

And sometimes I take youth here for an escape from the campo. 

And we take goofy pictures on the dock.

Oh yeah, and I do actual work like youth conferences here sometimes!

But I mostly just come for this, El Zapato, and the most beautiful view in the country!

There are currently only 4 volunteers in the entire Montecristi province, whereas some provinces close to the capital have upwards of 30. But - I have the best crew in the world and a beautiful site I wouldn't change for the world!

On interruptions...um rude.

¡Olé!

I live in a loud and obnoxious culture. Loud because there are motors, cars, horns, music, chickens, goats, dogs, babies and people yelling at every street corner at every hour of the day. For example, my friend lives in a house on main street right in front of the largest colmado in town. At least once a day, some car with a huge bass and amazing sound system (ways people choose to spend their money in a place with such poverty will be the subject of another mensaje entirely) parks in front of the house and spends 15 minutes with music blaring, much to the dismay of said friend. She told me the other day, “I’m pretty sure I could do all my work in half the time here if only there weren’t so many interruptions.” Oh girl...I feel you!

The top five most notable common interruptions are as follows:

1) In the middle of a meeting, someone will show up late and scream “SALUDOS/GREETINGS”  and walking from participant to participant kissing them on the cheek (sometimes catching up about families and children) while breaking everyone’s concentration and starting a waterfall of mumbled “hellos” and “good day my friends" and rendering it nearly impossible to get back on track, especially when the interruptions with people showing up late for meetings happens for at least an hour after said meeting starts. 

2) When you’re on the phone with someone, it’s more than acceptable to start and finish a conversation with someone face to face in the interim. This one doesn’t make sense to me because cellphone minutes are really expensive here and everyone is super stingy with their cellphone time, so I don’t really understand why people think it’s okay to interrupt and bombard other peoples minutes. This interruption has caused much headache to American callers who want to kill me when I say, “Hang on, one sec, someone’s calling me, be right back, lemme just finish this conversation, ah I can’t hear you, someone’s yelling at me.”

3) During class, a student from another course will walk in and say, “I need to talk to so and so” or “Can I borrow a pencil?” and just strut on in, interrupting whoever’s speaking with no care in the world for the lesson at hand, teachers present, or people doing their work. Also related, during at least 1 or 2 school days a week, something “important” will come up and the school lets out for the day a period or full afternoon early. Some of these important interruptions include: the food for the day wasn’t enough and 2 entire classes were left without food, the food sent from a nearby cafeteria for all the students is rotten, the teachers have to cash in their paychecks in the town over, it might rain, or the teachers need to discuss something as a group. 

4) When you really need electricity for something (laundry, internet, hair drying, cooking something, blending, ironing) and it goes out in the middle of your chore. They say we are on a lights schedule here in Manzanillo but I can’t tell what it is and sometimes I can get all my laundry done before it goes out, otherwise it’s an interrupted laundry day where I just have to leave wet, soggy, mushy clothes in the hot sun to get moldy and grody. Or, I'll be having a much needed conversation in English with a friend from home and all the sudden, boom, no internet! No electricity, take that! 

5) If my door is open, no matter what I’m doing, people can enter. Favorite moments include when I’m sweaty and doing a workout video and children just come and watch me from the balcony. Or when I’m working and tell kids to leave me in peace until the afternoon and they’re back in five minutes just checking in, “When can I come back, when are you going to be done, can I help, can I color on the floor, can I just watch you, can I interrupt you?” I still don't have a solution to this one because I hate to close the door because it’s a) rude and b) hot, but dayumm, sometimes I just have to to get things done!

Let's be real, I don’t really mind all the day’s little interruptions, they add flavor and spice to the day's happenings! I only ever feel bad when I’m on the phone talking to an American and I keep having to yell during our conversations. Apologies for all of you this has happened to! It’s just the way it is here, and it all boils down to culture.

Gotta go, being pulled out by little girls who want to color!

Until next time,

Bea