On a top ten list from the campo

A new top ten list from the campo!

1- I am obsessed with soap operas.
My favorite, La Patrona, just ended last week and I am torn up about it. The acting is horrible and the drama is daft but I am addicted. Unlike US shows, soap operas here only have one season and the TV station has free control over how long they want that season to run and when they want to repeat a section. Makes no sense to me but its a fine example of how an elite few control this facet of Dominican life.

2- Getting sick here is a real bummer.
I knew it was too good to be true. I didn't get sick- no diarrhea, common cold, weird rash, etc for the first seven weeks in country. And then, probably because I jinxed it, I got sick in a matter of days. I got a weird mix of all sorts of internal stomach problems, horrible body aches, and nasty eye goop. My host family was convinced it was the yogurt I ate from the factory down the road, but I'm 95% sure it was some random vegetable that was still contaminated or non purified water I swallowed in the shower. The common household remedies here are interesting. For diarrhea, my mom gave me a cup of coffee with half a lemon and a tablespoon of salt (read: gave me a laxative with acid for an upset digestive tract). For the common cold Mamí gave me cilantro tea with sugar for its "healing properties." For bloating I got licorice tea, and for a headache I got vanilla tea with salt.  People here have little access to health resources when they are sick and have learned to live with natural remedies for illness. Whether or not they work was unconfirmed by my bouts of sickness but I'll alert you when I find one that actually works.

3- Part of our project framework as Peace Corps Volunteers is to work on combatting non communicable diseases like diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and chronic respiratory illnesses.
This rocks! For the most part, the way to cure these preventable diseases is through diet and exercise. Part of my job is to create an appropriate way of doing this bearing in mind cultural differences surrounding obesity and nutrition. Many Dominicans don't want to lose weight because being fat is a sign that you can afford to eat and some truly believe that if they get their heart rate up enough, it might explode. I will be debunking these myths over the next two years. I have a really great opportunity here to work with community members on weight loss challenges, fitness groups, goal planning, and obesity prevention which affects almost one in four Dominicans. If any of you have workout ideas, nutrition plans, or other useful information- send it my way!

4- The United States government shut down while I was here and it was embarrassing to have to explain.
When I mentioned to Dominicans that our government shut down (thanks to those who kept me in the loop whilst this was all happening) they looked at me perplexed. First, they hardly cared, but since I'm a loud mouth, I told anyone who would listen (in basic Spanish terms keep in mind so I hope I did the ACA justice). Secondly, none of them understood why our government would rather shut down than provide citizens with access to health insurance. It doesn't make sense to me either. But in all seriousness, the gravity of the shutdown in our country will have detrimental effects on this country and my work here. For instance, I will be starting a project to make improved cookstoves that use less combustible and are safer for women and children because they eliminate harmful fumes that cause pneumonia and respiratory infections abundant in the DR. These stoves need to be heavily subsidized with grants from the US but because of this shut down business, I won't be able to apply for them for another 6-8 months, rendering a huge part of my job impossible. So to any legislators out there reading my blog (here's lookin' at you Joe Kennedy, returned Peace Corps Volunteer Dominican Republic) get your vaina together and fix this lio.

5- I should be a professional cow milker.
In Spanish the verb for "to milk a cow" is ordenear, que chulo! And did I ordené or what! We live next to a farm and our vecino invited us to try it one morning. Most newbies don't echar any leche but I got the milk to come out first try. After joking with everyone that I milked three whole cows and got five gallons out of it (really I milked 1/2 a cow's udder and got barely an inch of the bucket full) I told the owner he should hire me. He said he'd send over my contract but I'm still waiting.

6- Dominicans are afraid of the water and the sun.
Whenever I go anywhere here, the first thing my family asks is "Dónde está la sombrilla?" To which I reply - "It's not going to rain why do I need an umbrella?" And then you hear a chorus of neighbors and family members yelling- "Because the sun stings mija!" In a country where being dark skinned is considered worse than being of a lighter shade (read: albino white people are the "best" people), its no wonder no one wants to head into the full sun in the middle of the day (more to come on race issues in a next blog edition) It's incredible the versatility my umbrella has here. Dominicans (especially women who only wash/do their hair once a week) hate the rain because they despise getting wet. Most Dominicans have no idea how to swim either, adding to the great fear that rain will wash them away. And when you schedule a meeting and there's rain or beaming hot sun- there's a 100% chance no one will show up.

7- Kids don't go to school on days when their parents (read: mothers) do the laundry.
This seems absolutely ludicrous to me, but when the uniforms of children are being washed, the kids will excuse themselves from a day of school. I asked my host cousin why she didn't just use another uniform (a simple blue collared shirt and khaki pants for every public school in the entire country) and she told me that her extra was ugly. What a shame that the educational productivity of this country's children is linked to the laundry their parents do.

8- I'm finally used to having ten mosquito bites at any given time, lines of ants crawling on me, cockroaches in my bed at night, lizards sliming up walls in my house, flying beetles, and scary wasps. 
Unfortunately I don't think I will ever get used to the tarantulas. Yuck!

9- I'm almost sick of avocados.
It's hard to believe, it really is, but I eat at least an avocado a day- sometimes more. Avocado season is almost over so the good news is that I just have to aprovechar the time I have left with these delicious being and soon they'll be no more.

10- I love to dance.
Not really surprising, but I'm obsessed with dancing to bachata, merengue, salsa, dembow and reggaetone. It was a regular affair for us to dance until 2 in the morning with my host cousins, friends, and harmless tigueres on Fridays and Saturdays in the campo. To check out some of my favorite canciones, google Propuesta Idecente by Romeo Santos and Ayyy by Amara la Negra.

11- Going to the salon is an absolute ordeal.
Lots of Dominican women head to the salon once a week to get a good wash and valuable gossip time. So on my last day in the campo, I went with my sister and cousin. They lather, rinse and repeat- three times. Then it's off the the rolos where one's head is covered with rolls and stuck under the dryer, giving me the impression I'm stuck in old school chick flick. It's 45 minutes under the wretchedly hot dryer which burns like hell so I threw a fit and made them turn it off after fifteen minutes. Finally hair gets straightened then wrapped up in what's known as a tubie and trapped under a hair net to protect it from sun/sweat/rain. Women only take their hair out of the caps I they're going out, dancing, or showing off. The whole process took 3 hours. Torturous I tell you!

12- I cannot wait use a machete.
Machetes are used for just about everything- cutting firewood, mowing the lawn, opening a coconut, killing rats, etc. As a final community project, Mamí suggested that we cut the weeds and clean up the street with machetes. I was all for it, but unfortunately my compañeros weren't so thrilled by my valiant offer to use machetes and cut weeds. Instead we held a community Zumba class which was probably safer anyhow. One day I will report back on my advancing machete handling skills.

13- Not having Internet for five weeks was liberating.
Apparently we are the most tech savvy and dialed-in group the Peace Corps staff here has ever seen. Everyone has an iPhone, a computer, gadgets, kindles, iPads etc. and we are on them all the time. Being thrown into a campo without access to Internet changed all that for me. My computer broke day two in the campo and it hasn't been fixed nor am I in a huge hurry/need to do so. Unfortunately that left me writing this blog post on my iPhone, but definitely an inconsequential problem in comparison to others in the world. The majority of you will never get the liberating chance to disconnect for five weeks because the realities of our lives in a capitalist society don't grant us that freedom, but if you do, embrace it. Embrace the hundreds of conversations you will have uninterrupted by unexciting text messages and spam email alerts. Embrace the moments in which you wont have google to figure out who sings that one song, what jello is really made of, where in the world you are on a map, which republican is trying to ruin the country today, or how you can make icing without powdered sugar. It's a life changer and the creativity that comes with having to invent your own entertainment and enjoy the company of others is extremely gratifying.

14- I love the Dominican Republic.
Being in the campo gave me the chance to experience how the majority of Dominicans live and to see what my service in a small town will be like. Campesinos are friendly, warm, welcoming, sincere and compassionate and although they don't have much money or physical resources, they are truly happy and content people. I really love the culture, people, scenery, way of life, food, music, and even the crazy fashion styles that make me feel like this country is permanently stuck in the 80s. I feel blessed (all this church-going has really gotten to me) to have been placed in this vibrant and dynamic country for my Peace Corps service and I am excited to see what I can do here in two years. The Dominican Republic is my home now, I feel comfortable, happy and content to be exactly where I am. And after six weeks in the campo- I really truly feel like I can call it mi hogar.
So there you have it! My campo experience and six weeks of Peace Corps training in one blog post. Phew! And on Monday I find out the details of my site placement and home for the next two years. Then finally on Halloween we graduate from lowly Trainees to real living breathing Volunteers!!!  More to come later this week when I find out and head to my new site/home!

A baby from the campo! My nephew, Adrian!

On eating and befriending grandmas

It's been a while!!! I'm still living in the campo but we took an excursion to the beach today (google Playa Juan Dolio to live vicariously through me) and we got a few minutes of Wifi. Here's a short(ish) compilation of my life as a campesina. 

Let me start by saying that I absolutely love the campo. Highlights of the campo life include wide open spaces straight out of a Dixie Chicks song, cows in the middle the road on my way to work (this is 100% like the sheep that stop traffic once or twice a year in my hometown in Idaho but substitute cows for sheep and it happens everyday), chickens, dogs, cats and goats in my backyard,  a patio full of fruit trees, the sounds of crickets instead of 24-hour merengue, the smell of burning trash (okay jk this ones gross!), the tranquility, the sense of community, the avocados continuously gifted to me by neighbors, the donas who send my host mom leftover food because they know I'm around, the first name basis I have with everyone here, the cows I can milk in the morning (see photo evidence), and what's best are the fifty houses that make up my small campo community! Ah, I love it all. 

My host family and host community is amazing- the world's best host family and host neighbors. My mom- warmly known to everyone as Mami, my dad Pedro (called Viji by anyone who has known him more than ten minutes) and my host sister- Ani (who's 25) are the sweetest, funniest, funnest, coolest people in the DR. From the second I set foot in my community of El Portón (don't think you can even google this place it's so small) they made me feel right at home. I stepped off the bus and was greeted by hugs, kisses, cake, coffee and running water! 

What's more is my host mom is trying to fatten me up to fit in with the Dominicans (her words not mine) so I get the best and richest cooking around. Highlights include bollos (cornflower and coconut milk tamales), la bandera (rice, beans, meat), beets (enough said), avocados on avocados on avocados, avena (oatmeal), natilla (chocolate pudding made with real cow's milk), arroz con leche (sweet rice and milk), ayuama con huevos sancochado (pumpkin and eggs), la berenjena frita (fried eggplant), lechosa (papaya), morir soñando (orange juice and milk), and jugos de guayaba, chinola, avena (guava, passion fruit and oatmeal juice). Ahh I could stay here forever (or at least until the heart attack kills me). 

Enough about the food- let's talk about my set up. Nestled in the middle of two small towns off a nice dirt road 45 minutes from Santo Domingo- El Portón consists if one road, two small corner stores, one house that sells hair ties and calling cards from the front porch, two churches (Catholic (90%) and Evangelical (10%)), one dance patio (known fondly by the people  as 4-P (cuatro peh)), one gambling center, and supposedly 58 houses according to an informal census but I have yet to count more than fifteen. We don't have a school or a pharmacy or a restaurant but we've got glits and glam! My backyard even comes equipped with a beautiful outdoor shower shared by six neighbors and characterized by a cement box with a piece of tin roofing that is lifted and placed in front of the opening to serve as the door. Not to mention the outdoor kitchen we've got outback. And the patio of chickens/cats/dogs/lizards we keep. And the house wouldn't be the same without the five fruit bearing trees we tend to and make juice with- coconut tree, orange tree, manzana de oro, naranja agria, and passion fruit! My digs come complete with unreliable "24 hour" electricity and "running" water. It's not actually reliable at all and we seem to have water and light as often as we don't have it but the grid was established by an international development organization which gifted a lifetime of free water and electricity to community members. It's a huge benefit for the community but the electricity often shuts off for hours at a time (in a place where people expect 24 hour electricity this becomes a problem because people aren't ready/prepared in case the lights go). Also the water comes minimally so most people collect, purify (sometimes), and drink rainwater.  

Because I have been gone a while and cant possibly write about it all- Here's a top ten list of musings so far. 

1- Patricia, my host cousin/best friend here gave birth to a baby boy named Adrian. 

I don't really like babies because they frighten me but I have to admit that being a part of Patricia's life during the last few weeks of her pregnancy and the first few weeks of motherhood was amazing! Patricia is only 18 and her mom is only 37 but the two are a dynamic duo. Patricia is the kindest and most mature 18-year old I've ever met and it was awesome to be able to give her nutrition lessons and maternal health information as part of my work here. She really was interested and dedicated to learning about infant health, pregnancy, family planning, and nutrition. 

2- Celebrating Ani's birthday. 

My host sister turned 25 while I was here and it was great to be part of the celebration. She told me in passing that we were going to kill a sheep and I thought she was serious so I went around inviting all our extended family members to her sheep roast. As it turns out there's no sheep roast and apparently not ever family member was invited to the shindig. My family made fun of me for a week asking me what I was going to cook for all the guests I invited. I let them know I'd cook up a pork roast and now they're under the impression I actually have cooking skills. They've been sorely disappointed thus far. 

3- Becoming BFFs with Noelma. 

Noelma is my grandma here. She rules. She is Mami's mom and lives 2k away in the town of La Reforma. We have our technical training sessions everyday at a school in La Reforma and whenever I have a break I make sure to head to her house for her big smiles and awesome cooking. Since she knows I love avocados, she usually has a ripe one waiting for me and if not will usually ask the neighbors to gift me one! I made a big effort to get to know Noelma and it paid off. She introduced me to lots of other community members and all the extended relatives in our family. She's also a firecracker ready with sassy comebacks, witty sayings, and all the love a freshly aplatanada Peace Corps Trainee could take! 

4- The three most important issues to work on here pertain to water, environment, and teenage pregnancy. 

We visited a local hospital in the nearest town of Guerra where we met with a bad ass doctora. She walked us through the halls opening every door to every room without shame- exposing us to a pregnancy woman about to give birth, a newborn breast feeding, a child with diarrhea, and a man screaming in the emergency room. After the visit she thanked us for the work we will be doing and emphasized the need in this country for education on how to collect and purify water given that 1/4 Dominicans have diarrhea at any given time. Another huge problem in this country is the fact that everyone burns their trash here leading to respiratory diseases that she sees all the time in her practice. Finally, she lamented the alarmingly high teenage pregnancy rate. 1 in 4 women in the DR have been pregnant before age 20. I though back to my high school days and I knew maybe one or two people who had been pregnant. Here, I already know more than ten. 

5- Women expect men to cheat on them. 

This is definitely one of the hardest things to wrap my head around here. Every woman I talk to - be it a high school student, a teenage mother, an older doña, or an abuela talks openly about the sex their significant other has had with other women. Many even have second families- or another wife and child that they support on the side. As awful as it sounds, I have yet to find one woman who has not been cheated on by her boyfriend or husband. In the less educated areas (aka the campo) the stereotype is that a man can do whatever he wants and the woman must be obedient, available, and faithful. 

6- Gun control doesn't exist here. 

Once when I was in a dance hall- I went to the bathroom only to find a pistol in the sink "in case of a fight breaking out" I later learned. Well good thing because only a few days later during a patron saint dancing festival, someone broke out a gun and opened fire on the dance floor. One police was shot in the leg but thankfully no one else was hurt. 

7- Si Dios quiere. 

This phrase literally means "If God wants it" and Dominicans use it for everything. The response to "See you tomorrow" is always "Si Dios quiere." If you invite someone to a party, instead if saying yes, no or maybe- it's always "Si Dios quiere." This has made it particularly frustrating to plan meetings and events because no one takes accountability and just leaves it up to God's will. I've started retorting some of these with "Oh, Dios quiere" (Trust me, God wants it). Seems to do the trick. 

8- My hair can be done in any number of awesome ways. 

First there was my trip to the salon which was a riot because seven women were all cramped into a 10x10 box waiting for a deep wash, hair rolls and blow dry under the massive salon machines looking like an artifact from the 60s, then a straighten, topped off with a hair wrap and cap. To wash and dry my hair took two hours- not the most efficient thing I did with a Saturday but it was an awesome experience hanging with Dominican ladies and my BFF Patricia (the pregnant one). 

Fast forward a week later and my hair is in corn rows. My neighborhood friend did it for me and took twenty minutes to braid the top. Impressive! 

9- I've been going to church. 

Mostly just to spend time with the neighborhood doñas, I head to church on Sundays. It's usually a nice message that I can learn a lesson from or take away new Spanish vocab and it's a nice way to share time with my host mom and sister. 

10- Everyone has an apodo (nickname). 

Dominicans are born with one name but use another. Most of the bames are completely nuts and without reason (like the guy named Tresnoventa which literally means 390) and others are adopted from a persons physical traits (like my friend people call Flaca or Skinny). Other notable nicknames include Miracielos (Heaven Watcher), Feo (Ugly), Mami (her real name is Juana but she's the oldest child of 12 and aptly named Mommy), Viji (real name = Pedro), Ani (real name = Carmelina), the grown man named Bebe (Baby) and the trio of sisters named Uva, Piña and China (Grape, Pineapple and Orange). Then you've got the names that don't mean anything special like Monchi, Conena, Cirilo, Tatika, Tinita, Wande, etc. I guess even I have an apodo since I go by Bea here. My favorite part of meeting people is figuring out they're nicknames versus given names. I kept telling y grandma about my host dad Pedro and she finally stopped me to ask, "who's Pedro?" I looked at her confused and said, "you're son in law" thinking I was going nuts. "Ohhhh she said, you mean Viji." Gotta be careful with those apodos!

Also, send any notes, updates and noteworthy news from the states- I've been disconnected for quite a bit! 

On my new normal

Hola! Today is my three week anniversary in country!!!

Last week (Thursday through Sunday), I ventured out of the capital and into the mountains to visit a current volunteer in a small rural village called Sabaneta. It is about 45 minutes away from a town called San Juan de la Maguana (where the current President Danilo Medina is from). Surprisingly, the DR has four mountain ranges (who knew!) and a pretty temperate climate in parts so it’s technically considered a subtropical climate – not the tropical beach vacation y’all probably had in mind when I told you I was headed to the DR. I digress. 

I had an awesome visit with a kick-ass young lady named Laura from Indiana. She’s a nurse, a cat-lover, motivated, dedicated, aplatanada (Dominicanized), and a bomb cook! I am very thankful for my visit and the awesome time I had visiting another region of the DR. Seeing her life made me more confident in the life I can and will lead here over the next two years. I saw first hand the true integration that Peace Corps volunteers are able to experience and the lasting impact that volunteers have on their communities. Laura was truly a part of her community and very well-respected by the families and women of the small community.

While visiting, I was able to take part in a women’s health group and see the ways in which she has connected her interests in health to the needs of the community. This was inspiring and left me confident and excited in what I will be able to accomplish with my own women’s groups. However, when I was in Sabaneta, we were supposed to make outdoor cook stoves for two families but the mason had to work on Saturday, making our efforts null and we couldn’t even start the projects. In addition to seeing the successes Laura has had in her community, I also watched the frustration and adaptability that a volunteer needs to have. Even though we couldn’t begin the cook stove construction, Laura was flexible and used the time to work on other projects, spend time with community members, and take us to waterfalls, caves, and lakes!

My visit to Sabaneta illustrated a serious need for me to keep an open-mind throughout my service. There are so many ways to become frustrated, be it when the culture seems misogynistic/racist/uneducated/poor/machismo or when I feel sick/homesick/frustrated/angry but in these moments, it will help to remember that I can learn from another culture, and that it’s not “better” or “worse,” just different. The Peace Corps has set high goals for us volunteers, including integrating fully into another culture and community, developing a plan for community organizing, impacting national policy and curriculum development, and mitigating the effects of poverty by realizing that being poor does not mean being sick/unhealthy. It’s a lofty set of goals, but seeing Laura one year into service showed me that these goals are actually possible to achieve...thank god!

Tomorrow, I am heading into the campo (rural village) for Community Based Training (CBT). We will be in the campo for five straight weeks, living with a new host family and training in a new center. I’m stoked! We will be building stoves, teaching and presenting health and nutrition to women and youth groups, gardening (!!!), and learning other technical health skills. It’s going to be a fabulous change of pace from the city living – which has regularly included being woken up at 6am by Evangelical preaching from subwoofers attached to trucks driving through the streets, never being able to fall asleep from the blaring reggaetone and merengue that reverberates throughout the neighborhood until 1am even on Sundays, and the poop, trash and sewage that seeps into the streets as I walk to class everyday. 

To me, most these things have started to seem normal, but it took me heading to the mountains to realize that this country actually is full of clean air, beautiful mountains, green rivers, agriculture, and a slower pace of life. As more strange things start to become “normal” to me here in the DR, I’ll take time to make a list and point ‘em out!

·      I eat almost six eggs a day (two for breakfast, one-ish on top of a salad at lunch, and two for dinner). Yikes cholesterol!

·      White bread has become one of my main food groups – (along with plantains, and did I mention eggs?)

·      My doña consider “a good meal” to be one with two loaves of white bread with margarine and salami inside

·      My host sister washes her hair every two weeks

·      I wash my hair every four and it’s considered "excessive"

·      We don’t have water to use for showering/cleaning/washing clothes right now

·      Frozen yogurt here is almost as good as fro-yo at BerryLine in the US

·      I hand wash my own underwear

·      I am considered “rubia” or “blonde/yellow” in skin color

·      The walls in my house don’t go all the way up to the ceiling

·      40% of Dominicans live on less than $2/day

·      Six huge jugs of clean drinking water (5 gallon jugs) costs $1, but many people in rural communities cannot afford to buy it

·      Coffee costs $0.40/cup

·      Gasoline costs more than $6/gallon

·      The DR has stricter and harsher laws for immigrants than the US

·      People don’t often talk positively (if at all) about rights for homosexuals

·      There is systemized and deliberate racism against Haitians

·      Teenage pregnancy rates here are exponentially higher than other Latin American countries

So now I’m off to the campo for five weeks and don’t know how reliable internet access will be. I’ll try to post a few times or just save my posts/picts for when I return! As always, send me updates and news and events in your life! Would love to hear from you.

I'm sending all my best - especially today on the anniversary of 9/11. 

On fitting people in guaguas

The title of this blog pertains to two types of ridiculously complicated public transportation here in the Dominican Republic. It’s been more than two weeks, and I’m nowhere closer to figuring it out.

First, you have your carro públicos (public cars) which are serious beater cars (think pre-airbag/no air conditioning/roll-up window/older than me type cars) that hold up to seven passengers and the driver. There are two in front and at least four in back, if not five or six (depending on size of the passengers). These carros run up and down popular roads and cost 75 cents no matter the distance you want to go. You’ve got to be careful with these, because there are plenty of pirate carros, which are places to scam and rob people. They’ve told us the way to ensure a legit carro is to check for the licensing sticker and make sure the top is painted green or yellow. Well, most of these dilapidated cars have let their official stickers fall or rust off, so it gets very confusing. My best bet is to see which ones look full and go with them. I’ve been told not to trust any type of public transportation that doesn’t have people piling out of its windows. Ahh...yes, sound advice.

Then you’ve got your guagua, or bus. Now don’t go thinking “school bus” or “charter bus” type buses...think “barely bigger than a mini-van” or maybe “15-seater” bus. And these buses fit more people than you can count on your (and 3 other peoples) hands. There are always five in the back and they call it the “cocina” or “kitchen” because it’s essentially an oven/roasting pit. Then each of the following four rows have at least 5-6 people across. Then there’s the 10 people that can stand basically on top of all the others sitting down and we haven’t even made it to the front where 4 people sit next to the driver and at least 10 more can pile in the entryway.

The best/worst part about these types of transportation is that you get to tell the driver where you want to get off, there are no official or recognized stops. Makes it hard to catch public transportation because you never really know if you’re on an actual car or bus route, it’s mostly just hope for the best and flag ‘em down. And when you happen to be in the very back of the bus and need to get out in the middle of the highway route and off a full bus, you scream up the bus “Dejáme donde pueda, conductor” or “Let me off wherever you can, driver.” Then you’ve got to crawl over 40 other people who are not getting off and it takes about 5 minutes. It’s a mess! But it works...somehow.

To fit all these people in said guagua and to charge them for the ride, there is a cobrador (person charging money) that accompanies the guagua and hangs out the door screaming the route on the highway and trying to get people to hop aboard. You’ll even hear the cobrador scream “Peguénse como anoche,” a crude phrase loosely translated to “Get together like you did last night” when trying to get more to fit into his lucrative little bus. Y por eso (And that’s why) the title of this post is aptly named for a saying here that goes, “you can always fit at least one more in a guagua.”

On my life in Pantoja, Santo Domingo

They say a pictures worth a thousand words. Well this one's for Ma and Pa who sometimes have a difficult time imagining what my life here actually looks like. Below are pictures of my life in during Pre-Service Training (PST) in a barrio of the capital called Pantoja, Santo Domingo: 

My goofy sister, Kiara, on the porch where we "do yoga" together

The bathroom and bucket using for bathing and flushing the toilet! We're in a drought and the water only comes once a week so I only get one small bucket full for washing hair, body and flushing the toilet. Ah!

The kitchen - check out them dishes! ¿Pero quién va a fregar?

My host sister Kiara putting on a mustache while we make friendship bracelets on the porch!

The back porch doubles as a living room and laundry area

Hello from the porch - doubles as my workout area!

Laundry room and kitchen table

The view of the street. 

Another view of the street! It's a pretty sketchy neighborhood but I've come to enjoy the noise, occasional gun shots and tigueres.

Our neighbors backyard. Looks like the campo!

And just in case you thought I might not make friends, here's proof that I did!

On my job

So all this talk about the DR and it’s people and my very vague idea of a project. What the heck have I been and will I be doing for the next two years? Well, so far, I have been living in Pantoja (a poor neighborhood north of the center of Santo Domingo) for what is known as Pre-Service Training. I wake up every morning around 6am and am out the door (fed and full of coffee) by 7:30. I go to “school,” where 46 of us learn Spanish, technical health skills, and core skills like water purification, cross-cultural competencies, approaches to international development, the Peace Corps’ approach to development, and leadership training. Around 5pm, I walk home and wait for Kiara to come home from school as well so we can do yoga on the porch or chat in Spanish. Sometimes I take an evening walk around the neighborhood (dependent on whether or not I want catcalls and people staring at me) and then I’m usually in bed reading, watching a movie, doing homework, or writing a blog by 8:15. Lights off by 9:30...repeat.

Next week, I am heading to a town in the province of San Juan (north of Santo Domingo) to stay with a current Peace Corps Volunteer (I’m a lowly Trainee still). The idea of this visit is to see where a volunteer project site might be and to grill them about various health projects I can take on, and different aspects of Peace Corps life. Oh, and I get to take a “motoconcho,” or motorcycle taxi, to get there! The Peace Corps Dominican Republic is one of the only (or maybe the only) countries that allow volunteers to ride motorcycles because they are mission critical and imperative in getting from site to site.

On September 12, I pack my bags and head to the campo (countryside) to live with another host family for five weeks. Here, we are doing what is known as “technical training,” basically all the health skills I’ll ever need to know to complete my projects for the next two years. Training includes assembling and teaching health concepts to groups of doñas (women) in the countryside, learning how to present about HIV/AIDS to youth groups, organic gardening techniques, and much more! This also called Community Based Training (CBT) and is set in the rural parts of the DR so as to mimic what our project placement sites will likely be...small, and rural. I’m beyond stoked for this part, but a few of my companions are extremely nervous to head to the campo. Growing up in Idaho gives me street cred(it) here, thanks ma and pa!

At the end of my five weeks in the campo, I head back to the capital (Santo Domingo) where I will be given my site placement. This is where I will live in the DR for the next two years!(!!!!!!). And I could get a million sites. Options range from bateyes (very very small farming towns of about 300 people usually with migrant workers from Haiti), to campos (small towns of about 900 people in more rural locations like the mountains, or on the border of Haiti), to pueblos (villages ranging from 5,000-12,000 people usually with unreliable amenities), to barrios (suburbs of larger cities with upwards of 60,000 people in a one kilometer radius). My preferences are to be in a campo setting in the mountains to the north of Santo Domingo, but from what I hear, placements are a total crapshoot. I have no control or say over my placement, and will be given a location by the Associate Peace Corps Director for Health (or the head honcho of my sector). I cannot wait to get a placement and know where my project will actually be, but I’m really getting too far ahead of myself! 

On October 30, 2013, I will officially be sworn in as a Volunteer. Then, I pack my bags, say goodbye to Santo Domingo, and head to my site. I will live with a host family for the first 4 months I am in my site. The first 3 months on site consist of performing a diagnostic, and from what I can tell, this includes a lot of chatting with doñas on their front porches, drinking coffee with señores, and playing dominos with kids. And finally, after three months of pre-service training and another three months conducting a site diagnostic (to see the needs of my community and their basic health concerns), I begin my projects.

All Health Volunteers have two primary projects: 1) Escojo Mi Vida (My Life, My Choice) - a youth group specifically designed to teach sex education and HIV/AIDS prevention and empower high school students and 2) Hogares Saludables (Healthy Homes) - a women’s group designed to teach mothers about nutrition in order to improve healthy outcomes for kids and families. Apart from these two projects, I can do whatever else I want! I am thinking about starting my own version of a Lean In circle (a women’s empowerment and entrepreneurial group), perhaps a yoga clinic, and definitely a community garden. All things to think about over the next six months – any ideas, tips and helpful info would be much appreciated!

So that’s where I’ll be over the next few months and beyond - it's my job, can you believe it?! More specific updates to come!

My job includes teaching these fabulous young ladies all about the reproductive parts and safe sex. 

And how to use condoms!

And when we plan a huge regional youth conference for World AIDS day, we feel proud!

I also get to teach senior citizens to read.

And on special days, I get to draw and paint!

I also get to make floor cleaner as an income generation project for unemployed women.

And I always take my conference calls on the beach because why wouldn't you?

On statistics and setting the scene

I want to take some time to set the scene. It feels like an injustice to have started this blog without giving background information, history and statistics about the Dominican Republic, so here I go, with fun anecdotes, too!

I’ve been to the DR before, for spring break, during my sophomore year of college. We (eight college friends and I) landed at a tiny airport (probably Punta Cana regional airport, but I don’t even remember) and were whisked away by a tour bus and dropped off at an all-inclusive resort in the hot-spot beach destination known as Punta Cana. Even then, I remember thinking how odd it was that we were being taken from the airport and passing by migrant workers, poor families selling mangos on the highway, metal roofed dwellings, and naked children playing without shoes on only to arrive at a fancy, beautiful, and clean all-inclusive resort with running (hot and cold) water and electricity. I remember thinking how strange it was that I was passing kilometers of impoverished people only to head to the land of luxury and white sandy beaches. In the moment, I didn’t have much that I could do about it, so I’m not gonna lie, I went ahead enjoyed my all-inclusive spring break beach vacation just like the next vitamin-D deprived American college student. Two years later, I suppose the time has come for me to redeem myself. I’m here again, only this time I’m here to experience the country for all it truly has to offer - the colorful personalities of the people, their festive traditions and wonderful dancing, and the insecurities and instabilities of a developing country without proper and reliable sanitation, education, and health services.  

The Dominican Republic is a small country in the Caribbean, with a population of only about ten million. The entire landmass of the DR itself is about the size of New Hampshire and Vermont and occupies 2/3 of the island of Hispaniola, with Haiti to its left occupying the remaining 1/3. It’s a vibrant country known for it’s rum, meringue and bachata dancing styles, bananas, and beaches. In terms of development areas, I’ll focus on a few – education, health, and women.

Education - 
UNESCO ranked the DR 129^th out of 133 countries for education (that’s not good). Here, children go to school in shifts, because there are not enough teachers or physical classroom space to serve the children here. That means that 1/3 of children are in school from 8am-12pm, another third attend from 1-5pm and the final third go from 6-9pm. Usually, children receive about 2.5 hours of education a day, but if it’s raining, or a kid has to help around the house, he/she will not attend school. Some kids go once a week, some not at all. And only about 86% of children make it past 5^th grade, and only 60% finish high school. My host sister, Kiara, for instance, is in fourth grade. She started school this week, and walks on a busy highway to get to school. There is no bus and as she puts it, “Nadie le importa si llegamos a la escuela” or “No one cares if we make it to school or not.” She started the school week with 15 students in her class, but by the end of the week, she said there were about 25 kids who had at least shown up one day or more that week. I asked her how many attend daily and she said about 12.

Women’s health - 
In addition to the primary education problems, in the past few months, the government here has become preoccupied with the alarming and increasingly large number of teenage pregnancies. According to the United Nations Population Fund (UNPF), 105 in every 1,000 teenage women become pregnant in the DR, much higher than the world average of 49. The other day, I read about a southern migrant community of about 20,000 people, where there were 1,811 teenage pregnancies between April and June of this year. And when these young mothers need maternal health services, there are few clinics for them to attend. In terms of maternal health, the DR ranks behind every Latin American country in terms of access, sanitation, and services.

Health - 
With a GDP of almost $9,000 per capita, the Dominican Republic falls well behind the regional (Latin American) average of more than $25,000 per capita. Poverty is concentrated (for the majority) along the entire border of Haiti. Some unmet basic needs are related to housing, overcrowding, wastewater and solid waste disposal, and access to potable water. The prevalence of HIV/AIDS here is also much higher than the regional average, with 440 cases per 100,000 people compared to 319 in the region. Per person, $529 is spent on healthcare in the Dominican Republic, compared to the United States which per capita reaches almost $4,000.

The needs here are abundant, and I’m starting to see them first hand. I’ve been given all of this knowledge and what I do with it next is the important part. In a training session on the volunteer’s role in development, we talked a lot about how our attitudes are going to make or break our service. We are here to learn, adapt, integrate and facilitate, but if we do that with the wrong mindset, the mindset of “us” helping “them,” we’re here for the wrong reasons. I am here to work with Dominicans in a spirit of cooperation and to empower them to motivate change within their own communities. I am not the answer, I am a part of a long-term effort to create sustainable change in a country with scarce resources. And as I’m told, sometimes that can be extremely frustrating because I may not see immediate (or any) results. I’m a part of something much larger than myself, and when the going gets tough, remember this will help. 

An amazing quote stuck with me from the training last week. It went, “If you’re here to help me, you’ve come to the wrong place. If you’re here because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let’s get started working together.” (Very fitting that a feminist Australian Aboriginal woman wrote it). For now, that’s a little background about the DR and my role in development here with the Peace Corps. More information and statistics to come for sure!

The DR occupies 2/3 of the island of Hispaniola and shares the other 1/3 with Haiti. The island is about the size of New Hampshire and Vermont.

The shape and flag of the DR.