On milestones

Here's a timeline of the most momentous occasions in my Peace Corps Dominican Republic adventure:

October 2012: Submitted my application for the United States Peace Corps, a dream I've had since I was in high school.

November 2012: Interviewed with the Boston recruiter and she sent me a formal nomination for health, education or environment sectors.

April 2013: After months of waiting and no word on Peace Corps' end, I received my invitation to serve in the Health sector in Peace Corps Dominican Republic

May 2013: Invitation accepted!

August 20, 2013: Attended staging in Washington, DC.

August 21, 2013: Arrived in country confused and tired.

August 21 - September 9, 2013: Pre-service training in the Capital.

September 9 - October 18, 2013: Community-based training in El Portón.

October 20, 2013: Discovered our site placements! I'm going to Manzanillo, in the province of Montecristi in the northwest! ¡Lejos!

October 25-28, 2013: Spent my first weekend in Manzanillo.

October 30, 2013: Swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

November 4, 2013: First day in my very own apartment/bedroom above an amazing host family's house.

November 28, 2013: Thanksgiving with my PCDR family, one of the best ones yet.

December 25, 2013: First time I've cried in country. I was missing Idaho snow and Christmas food with my parents. But I got over it as soon as we slaughtered and ate my Christmas pig, Canchito. Yummmm. ¡Que rico!

February 11-14, 2014: 3-month In-Service Training. Wow, I've been in site for three months already. Time has come to formally start my projects.

February 28, 2014: Turned 23 and celebrated it on the beach with great friends.

March 23, 2014: Received a $3500 PEPFAR Grant to start and facilitate projects focusing on HIV/AIDS with women and youth.

April 4-6, 2014: Attended my first conference, Brigada Verde, to promote sustainability and environmental education with two youth from Manzanillo.

April 9-12, 2014: Traveled with a group of youth to the capital to see "politics in action," complete with a trip to the National Palace and Supreme Court.

April 22, 2014: Planted 56 trees in town to celebrate Earth Day.

May 28, 2014: Graduated 8 adult English language learners from Bea's English School.

June 6-7, 2014: Hosted my very first youth group exchange in Manzanillo with Elana's group from Clavellina, Dajabón.

June 14-15, 2014: Planned and attended my second youth group exchange with Julie in Palo Verde, Montecristi.

July 19, 2014: Graduated 36 youth in Manzanillo's very first Escojo Mi Vida graduation.

August 2, 2014: Last beach day with the original Montecristi crew, as Julie is leaving for America!

August 6, 2013: Graduated 16 women in Copey's very first Hogares Saludables graduation.

August 12, 2014: Received $3,000 grant from World Connect to construct 30 stoves in Copey.

August 20, 2014: Graduated 24 women in Manzanillo's very first Hogares Saludables graduation.

August 28-30, 2014: Brought 2 students to a Deportes Para la Vida (Sports for Life) Training of the Trainers, learning how to teach HIV/AIDS prevention through sports and exercise.

September 2, 2015: First day of stove construction!

September 14-24, 2014: Home to America for the Blog It Home Tour and visit from my momma.

September 25-28, 2014: One-Year Celebration with my swear-in group!

October 30, 2014: One year since swear-in, strange time - one of much reflection.

November 4-7, 2014: One year In-Service Training (IST!)

November 24-28, 2014: Selected for the coveted Thanksgiving Baking Team, spending a week making green bean casserole and macaroni and cheese in the house of the director of the USAID DR mission. Can someone say hot water, wifi and a fridge full of snacks?!

November 29, 2014: Escojo youth leadership workshop for superstar youth - promoting sustainability and leadership within Escojo Mi Vida!

December 6-29, 2014: Back to Idaho for Christmas!

January 10, 2015: Finished all 30 stoves in Copey and applied for a grant to do another 40, what was I thinking?

January 17, 2015: Ran my first 5k race in country, what an experience.

February 19-23, 2015: Climbed Pico Duarte, the tallest mountain in the Caribbean (or the 79th tallest in the world).

February 28, 2015: Turned 24!

April 29 - May 1, 2015: Chaperoned youth at a business conferences called Construye Tus Sueños, Build Your Dreams.
______________________________________________________________

Since this was published, I have also done the following:

June 3-5, 2015: Coordinated and co-facilitated a stoves training for the new group of volunteers.

June 5 - July 4, 2015: Second time in my service that I've completed the "30-Day Challenge" of staying in my site for an entire month without leaving. It's harder than you'd think! In that month, I was extremely productive, making cookstoves, facilitating first aid trainings and compartir-ing like a true Dominican!

June 24, 2015: Hosted my "daughter" Gissaury's birthday party and first time organizing children's play.

Where will I go from here? COS is 65 days away! 

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

On smiling lots :)

¡Buen día mi gente! 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about happiness. Something a friend said to me a while back really stuck with me and has acted as a guiding principle these past few months. He was describing driving home to Seattle from Idaho, a routine and mundane task, but explained that periodically throughout the drive he’d get an overwhelming sensation of happiness (especially when blasting “Uptown Funk”) . There was nothing especially happy or even special about the moment, but perhaps it was memories that welled up, the beauty of the drive or just the simple moment that brought a smile to his face.

Sure there are times when I’m frustrated here, but more and more lately, I find myself smiling. Just finding these beautiful moments and grinning to myself like I’m the only one who’s been told a secret. I have my own inside jokes that light me up inside and I spread an outward grin. Sometimes my grin comes out when I’m eating rice and beans and thinking to myself "Damn these are tasty", or when my little adopted daughter calls me Beita, which means “Little Bea,” an affectionate derivative of my name. It appears on my face when a doña gives me coffee and already knows I take it without sugar, when I learn all the words to a bachata song and sing it out loud to amazed spectators, when I spend the entire month of February memorizing the words to the DR’s national anthem and get it right just in time for Independence Day! I smile when watching kids invent baseball games with plastic bottles and dirty socks, being told I'm a good dancer, not feeling awkward at 24-hour funerals, bucket bathing, not washing my hair for five days and people still saying, “God bless your hair, Bea,” realizing how fully I can express myself in Spanish, saying something people think is really funny for an American to say, being called a tiguera. For these and so many more precious small moments everyday, I smile. And at the risk of sounding like the song “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music, I’ll stop there.

My best friend and fellow PCV, Dante, reminded me today – “Bea, appreciate every single day here because once you leave, there will never be anything else like it.” Every day I’m going to find something to smile about even if the only person I get to share my happiness with is myself. Christopher McCandless from Back to the Wild got it all wrong. His dying quote, “Happiness is only real when shared,” is only partly true. Yes, friends and family and society give us so much, but I’ve felt so much recently that I am the source and true appreciation for my own happiness.

I hope you find those simple moments of happiness and just smile and appreciate your surroundings and your own self. Because, after all, you are the only thing you get to take with you everywhere! To end with a quote: “When each day is the same as the next, it’s because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises.” Also, it’s Monday so show your feelings, spread love and give someone special a big hug!

In other news this week: 

- My project implementing a rural 911 system is going swimmingly. Nine wonderful first responders have been trained and are now actively responding to emergencies in Manzanillo and the outskirts. It's a soft opening because we still need to do a lot of testing on our Beacon system, but the most important part is that the people are trained and responding. We had a beautiful graduation on the beach full of fried fish, tiny shrimp, conch, lots of fried plantains and plenty of dancing! (Photos below). 

- I am the town's new aerobics instructor thanks to a serendipitous phone call from the town mayor asking me to start on Monday. I've been trying to start a women's aerobics group for a while now, but the best part is he's been announcing it around town so hopefully there will be quite the group! 

- My grant to build 40 more improved cookstoves was approved. Now it's just a waiting game until Peace Corps HQ transfers the funds, but it will be a wonderful summer project. Thank you to all who already donated! The first 30 stoves are done and being well-used! 

- It's almost Semana Santa (Holy Week) so town is abuzz with visitors from afuera (abroad) coming or making plans to come. The beach is always full and the mood is jovial! It's a wonderful time to be a Manzaniellera! Special food for this time includes habichuela con dulce or sweet beans, a scrumptious pudding type thing only made during this time of year. 

- Four of my best friends from America are visiting this week! Queue vacation! We're off to the beach to relax but it will be a bittersweet visit before one of my friends (Alix) takes a job with the Clinton Health Access Initiative in SWAZILAND! Congratulations!!!! 

Sending all my hugs and kisses, 

Bea 

You can't even begin to imagine the amount of tostones I made with this bunch of plantains!

The boys in my life. Love these lil dudes!

A forgotten photo from carnaval celebrations the 27th of February

Three girls waiting for Mama Julia to give a Catholicism class teaching the cross and hail Mary's to five year olds. I sit in on the class too, because it's embarrassing to go to church and not know how to say all the stuff in Spanish. 

My chaotic family! 

First Aid graduation at the beach! Dancing! 

Another proud moment, one of our graduates, Victor, gave a presentation to a group of 8th graders about the importance of first aid, community service and helping thy neighbor.

The graduates showing off their certificates. Proud teacher moment! 

On funerals and life lessons

¡Saludos mi gente! 

Sorry for such a delay since the last mensaje, I've had technical difficulties, my computer's been dead for a week now and the charger blew up due to a big 'ol power surge and mega high voltages. I know more about lowering and raising light now that I ever need to and I'm definitely going to think twice before plugging my computer into an unprotected socket. But such is life in a developing country. Since we last spoke, I've climbed a really big mountain, celebrated the DR's infamous carnaval celebrations and Independence Day on the 27th, turned 24(!!) on the 28th, and welcomed the newest group of volunteers to country! This week I want to chat about funerals and what death has taught me about life. 

Peace Corps Volunteers go to a lot of funerals. In small towns and villages, because everyone knows and is related to everyone, you must pay your respects at every death in town even if it’s fulano’s brother’s sister’s cousin’s mom that you only ever said hi to from the back row in church. Especially if you don't know the person who died but you know the family, you’re expected to go cumplir and sit for hours and hours in someone’s house talking to family members, seeing the dead person in their open casket and eating lots of food. Funerals and death work differently here than they do in America. While we are used to embalming the body or cremating someone and then having a celebration of life ceremony months later, everything here happens very quickly. 

Here’s a cheat sheet to death in the DR step by step:

1) Immediately after death: When someone dies, the family prepares the body and it’s ready and in a casket at the house within four or five hours. Friends, neighbors and distant relatives spend the day with the immediate family and pull an all-nighter to wake up with the family in the morning. This is known as the velorio and is done so that the close family doesn't have to wake up alone in their own grief. The community comes together to support the family. This part of death includes lots of porch sitting, food, coffee and story telling. 

2) The next day: The day after death, the body is taken to church for mass (if there is a church in town, if not, someone speaks words over the body and there's a ton of praying) and then on to the cemetery, usually led by a hearse and hundreds of community members walking behind. The body is then entered into the family’s plot while close family members scream, cry and touch the casket until the last possible moment. Instead of being buried underground, each family reserves a certain amount of space in the cemetery and they build a huge shrine with little shelves where the caskets go. If you run out of space, the family just keeps building cement shelves on top of the others. Then, the funeral organizers close up the shelf’s slot with cement. This is called the entierro.

3) Nueve días: For the first nine days after a person’s death, a vigil is held with close family members every night. On the ninth day, there is a large mass and more food/family time. This is called nueve días and is the second time (after the velorio) that the entire community comes together to pray and send the body safely to heaven.

4) Each month after death: Then, on the date of the death each month for the next year, the close family takes flowers to the grave site and has a vigil in the home with candles and prayer. This is the cunplemes.

5) Each year after death for seven years: On the anniversary of someone’s death each year for seven years, close family brings more flowers to the grave and eats more food in close company. This is the aniversario. Usually there is a huge mass in town on the 1st anniversary of death. 

Addendum: The close family members must wear black, gray and white for at least the first 9 days of mourning. Then, an individual will decide how long they wish to continue mourning, some choose to do so until the first month anniversary, others choose the full seven years (it's rare to mourn this long, but some do in the case of the loss of a child). This is called luto. During luto, you can't dance, drink or play loud music and community members have to respect the time you choose to mourn and not encourage you to dance, sing or dress up. People are in general, very respectful during this time. 

Last week, Máxima, one of my favorite old doñas who was about to turn 99 years old, died. Reflecting on her death makes has helped me understand just a little more about life. Here are three things doña Máxima taught me about life.

1) Life is long.

There’s plenty of cheesy sayings explaining how very short and precious life is, but I believe thinking about life in terms of it being long and full of adventures, relationships, experiences, etc. actually helps me live better. Máxima’s life was long and she lived every moment of it. She was the brightest and happiest doña I’ve ever met, even though she was 90% blind, had a croaky voice no one could understand and sat on the couch all day every day. She liked to sit right by the window overlooking main street and she’d yell and greet the people she knew walking by. Every time I walked into her house and greeted her with a big “HOLA MAXIMA” she would know it was me by voice and hug alone. She always offered up whatever she was eating and made sure to keep a spot on the couch open right next to her for visitors. She lived a long and good life, and I hope to live like she did up until the day I hopefully turn 99. Knowing how very long life can be, I would rather live it like Maxima, happily and kindly, making the most of every relationship that I can. So much time to learn and grow! 

2) Staying in bed is easy.

This isn't a comment so much about my good friend Maxima (who quite literally stayed in bed or in a rocker all day) but it's to say that Maxima’s death lit a fire under me to compartir more (which may sound funny to some of you who think that I literally compartir all day and don’t actually work – this is not the case). My whole community is out there and it's often much easier to just stay in bed/at home watching TV shows, reading good books or drinking vats of coffee and not visit neighbors. And I'd been rather good about visiting Maxima lately but there was a time when I avoided her house because it was the one with all the tigueres out front and I hated getting cat-called and hissed at. I rationalized not stopping by her house more than I motivated myself to get up and go. And when the news of her death came, I felt guilty. Yes I'd visited her six times in the last month, but I only ever stayed long enough to update her on life and then I rolled out. I know people always feel guilty about not visiting loved ones especially when they pass away, but most people don't have a community of old lovely people within a ten minute walk. Maxima’s death will remind me to visit my beloved community members with more regularity and take that part of my job just as seriously as I take the measurable "work" part.  

3) Just imagine how much life Maxima saw.

And by this I mean, it’s truly incredible how much doñas know about life. From secret remedies and weird concoctions to drama and town gossip, Maxima knew everything. She was the queen of her little perch on the couch and saw hundreds of people pass by her house everyday. She also probably had upwards of 10-15 visitors a day stopping by to besa mano, blow kisses, and update Maxima on their families, children, ailments, etc. Doñas are sage members of society, well versed in love, sadness, happiness and every other emotion on the spectrum. And Maxima carried her wisdom beautifully.

Maxima's death was sad, of course. But when there is so much death around me, it becomes less ominous and overwhelming. The most important take away I'll have from an endless stream of velorios is learning how to productively reflect and grow from each death. Maxima was a great teacher in life and even more so in her death. She will be forever missed!  

So there you have it, my reflection on life, death and my favorite doña Maxima. In the vein of talking about living life, I hiked the Caribbean’s tallest mountain, also known as Pico Duarte, the 79^th tallest mountain in the world, Mud Hell Mountain, or the hardest hike I’ve ever done. I didn’t believe other volunteers who said it was very difficult and they wished they’d trained. Phew, I thought, they’re just weak and out of shape. Well, needless to say, they were right, I should have trained! It was a grueling 55 kilometer, three day, mud filled adventure that just kept getting better! I went with three other volunteers and my best friend from America (thanks for all the snacks!). The only training I did was not wash my hair for five days in preparation for no showers. Como quiera it got greasy. I am really lucky to have been placed in this beautiful country with diverse geography, affording me the opportunities to climb mountains, sit on beaches and swim in river. If y’all haven’t visited, you really should!!!

On the coffee culture

Getting emails that are not from listservs, political campaign, daily newsletters or random articles from my mom is like getting a present on Christmas morning. My technological life is that dull. So, I was excited when, the other day, a Peace Corps friend of mine who also won the blog competition (currently serving in Thailand) wrote to me asking if her friend could interview me for her blog about food in the Peace Corps and if I had a specific theme I wanted to cover. I said I would love to, and that my area of expertise was coffee. Here's the interview below! 

Name: Bronwen Raff

Site: Dominican Republic (small town of 5,000)

Service dates: August 2013 – October 2015

If a visitor from America was coming to your site, where would you take them for their first meal in the Dominican Republic? 

Right when they land in the airport, I’d be waiting with plantain chips and a big Presidente beer to enjoy while adjusting to the heat and humidity. From there, we’d grab a street empanada in the city. I’d whisk my visitor away and we’d head to my site where I’d have a lineup of neighborhood doñas (old ladies) who would have prepared us a feast! We’d wander from neighbor to neighbor eating 1) mashed boiled green bananas (mangu) and fried cheese, 2) la bandera dominicana or rice, beans and chicken, 3) sambumbio, a delicious bean stew with meats, yucca, bananas and plantains or 4) arroz con leche, rice pudding. And no meal would be complete without sugared-up coffee to wash it all down.

What is a typical meal at site like for you? (Do you eat out or cook? Eat alone or with neighbors? What foods do you eat most often?)

I lived with a host family for the first 7 months of my service, 3 months in training and 4 when I first arrived at my site. Every morning without fail, I would have two hotdog white bread buns with two boiled eggs and a cup of hot chocolate with real cows milk (after two cups of coffee, that is). For lunch, it was rice, beans and chicken (sometimes a salad if I was really lucky). And dinner would be a plate of mangu (mashed bananas) with fried salami, fried cheese or fried chicken on top. That was it, without fail. I like to call that period of my life “214 days of the same old vaina (s*&#)” and probably gained a solid ten pounds. As soon as I moved out on my own I started cooking my own breakfast (oatmeal) and dinner (vegetables, boiled pumpkin, scrambled eggs, or whatever else the nearest colmado (bodega) has). I still eat a nice hearty lunch (rice, beans, meat) cooked by my favorite doña because I’m a working girl and ain’t nobody got time to start cooking lunch at 10:30am every day!

Tell me about coffee culture in your region!

Ahhhh coffee. I could go on for days, Dominicans love their coffee! Coffee is typically prepared in a greca, I’m not really sure what it translates to in English – maybe percolator? Sounds right. Anyway, the beans are often toasted on an open three-stone fire, sometimes with hazelnut, cinnamon or sugar roasted. Then the beans are ground, prepared in the greca and boil up through the percolater. Tiny little thimble-sized cups will be waiting on the counter and one greca can prepare coffee for up to five Dominican guests or one American (if you drink as much coffee as I do). Dominicans will scoop one or two tablespoons, yup tablespoons, of sugar into the cup and fill it only enough to wet the sugar.

To be social here, one must drink coffee. Dominicans take time to sit on their porches, colar un cafecito and spend time in the company of friends, neighbors and family. Dominicans will drink coffee in the morning, twice...directly after lunch, around five, six and seven in the afternoon and any other time a visitor comes over to the house. At first, my personal coffee preferences (I drink an entire greca by myself and take coffee without sugar) got some serious stares and maybe even made me enemies as Dominicans are entirely confused why I would ever drink coffee without sugar and fill my (big) mug all the way to the top. But word spread fast and now the whole town knows that whenever Bea comes over, they better not put a drop of sugar in my cup!

On your blog, you wrote about the cultural concept of compartir, or sharing time and food with those around you. Have you shared American foods with people in your community? What was the reaction?

Compartir is a central value to families here in the DR. Spending time with people often revolves around food, or at the very least, coffee. People are always gifting a portion of their daily meal to neighbors and friends, even more so if it’s a birthday or special occasion. I share a kitchen with a family and unfortunately, I don’t get to do much American cooking. I never really was much of a chef, nor do I really like cooking, so that’s fine by me. However, I have introduced baking to my community. Whenever someone comes to visit or sends me a package, I request easy-bake brownie, cake and muffin mixes that I can make with families around town. Sometimes (when I get paid), we make pizza. Our biggest problem stopping a lot of these cooking endeavors is the price of propane, it’s super expensive and most families don’t like to use/don’t have ovens. I just finished a project in which I constructed clay cookstoves for families and I wanted to try out some soup recipes out on that.

Surprisingly (or perhaps not given all the American media presence here), most people in my town have a perception of Americans as eating only chips and drinking soda. They think its nuts that I don’t drink soda and hardly ever buy chips. I try to eat healthy, or at least talk about food in a healthy way. I try to lead by example and have spent a lot of time convincing women to add more vegetables into their daily meals. In that way, I hope that I’ve shown them a different kind of culture around food that they may have never thought of before. But how can the American not drink soda, that’s insane, that’s not what we saw in that one movie!

As a health volunteer, part of your job is to promote healthy eating and good nutrition, as well as safe cooking practices. What kinds of nutrition and cooking projects have you worked on with your community? 

One of my main projects is an in-depth course for women called “Healthy Homes” and a major part of the curriculum focuses on nutrition and obesity prevention (surprisingly, obesity is one of the worst health problems facing Dominicans, unlike many other Peace Corps countries who face opposite issues of malnourishment). I encourage women to incorporate leafy greens in their rice and beans, use less oil in all areas of cooking, cut back on added salt, and exercise thirty minutes daily! We had a breakthough moment when a group of women and I were cooking a pasta and one woman was supposed to bring the oil. She brought just the tiniest amount and the entire group began to yell at her telling her she messed up and didn’t bring enough. “LOOK!” I said, “She brought just enough to fry up these onions and garlic...I’ll show you.” They were in agreement; it wasn’t so bad after all! It is a little thing, but just watching how little oil we used might (fingers crossed) help them make a change the next time they go to fry up some onions. Small steps! And speaking of steps, I’ve noticed more women out walking in the morning since this time last year when I started educating them about the benefits of exercise, so that’s another win right there! Little by little...

Anything else?

It is often extremely difficult to be a health promoter in the Peace Corps. Sometimes I (we) feel like, “How am I ever going to change these people habits when they’ve cooked with oil for years and years,” or “Why would someone listen to me about the health benefits of exclusive breast-feeding when I’m not a mother myself.” But the sooner I realized that the information I had to give was valuable, the quicker I found success in my projects and at my site. There is no way I’m going to get an entire country to stop adding salt to their ramen noodles, or adding sugar to natural juices, or drenching salads with soybean oil, but I can make a dent and the information we have to impart is of extreme value.

See the actual blog post here: http://cookinginthecorps.tumblr.com/post/109531038508/dominican-republic