tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31205001065869401622024-03-14T02:40:14.061-07:00Saint Dominic's RepublicAustinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-4634897086369631442013-04-12T19:40:00.001-07:002013-04-12T19:40:28.152-07:00Higüey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My aunt and uncle are here in the DR on vacation, and I took a trip out
to see them today. Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of them, but if
you don't know them, it doesn't matter, and if you do know them, you've
already seen them.<br /><br />Besides getting a nice lunch at the Hard Rock
Café (oh, yeah, and seeing those relatives...hi Aunt Karen and Uncle Dean!), I took the opportunity to
visit the eastern city of Higüey. Specifically, I visited the <span class="st">Basílica
Catedral Nuestra Señora de la Altagracia. I haven't made a point to see
many tourist destinations, but this was one I'd been meaning to check
out, mainly because it's a church and not just a spot for tourists.</span></div>
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<span class="st"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlELHILGVW1pChD2RMbPo6CKE3oyGeMI_w2rFt1mNQaKPntKRLWXlezyorZu4cbUKKCRX83lNnk-gWjjqqCqaP31h2L2BoX2059jDFJus3KOqJb9R0EgubyPjnxi0q_RdaVi0c5AbwDw/s1600/DSC03577.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlELHILGVW1pChD2RMbPo6CKE3oyGeMI_w2rFt1mNQaKPntKRLWXlezyorZu4cbUKKCRX83lNnk-gWjjqqCqaP31h2L2BoX2059jDFJus3KOqJb9R0EgubyPjnxi0q_RdaVi0c5AbwDw/s320/DSC03577.JPG" width="240" /></a> </span></div>
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<span class="st"> </span><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaI8CG78x4Mnl2KBYSNpBT4qx0lgYDFbBeQ4C8ou5TfctzUTPYt9mfqsQb68dof9fN5Mr7HinXSkZIgylGf7YK5bKgXDbmEjA-p9El06KjT4gbzEdFPLDP10TiVIuLxxtZvhX6LAyI5as/s320/DSC03578.JPG" width="320" /></div>
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As you can see, it has a modernist style, something that's often disastrous for a church, but it manages (especially inside) to pull it off while still having majesty and solemnity. I was repeatedly reminded of the principle of Catholic architecture drawing your gaze upward toward heaven.</div>
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It was surrounded by a beautiful and very well-kept park of palm trees, some of which you can see here. On the other side is a museum dedicated to the Basilica and to La Virgen de la Altagracia (the Virgin of High Grace), which is the title of Mary as patron saint of the Dominican Republic.</div>
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When I went to catch a bus home, I noticed street vendors selling something I'd never seen before, so I bought a bottle.</div>
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I was a little nervous when I read the label, because 'chicharrones' are deep-fried pig skin, and leche is milk. Chunks of pork floating in milk doesn't sound appetizing or sanitary when sold on plastic jars on the side of the road.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgku7rMLuMETdjDTPsFL_rIKmA7D1CDzDmQ8Yi0oiqSZm47968_vagLkG4qEAGiUj-Nl3kGN4-WSGrjyF0bEB3ECl7pbxQZbA1Y92UvEcfPTB-ZigojJ0hGHLoDNp0bl0hlNHJK-QhLw/s1600/DSC03599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgku7rMLuMETdjDTPsFL_rIKmA7D1CDzDmQ8Yi0oiqSZm47968_vagLkG4qEAGiUj-Nl3kGN4-WSGrjyF0bEB3ECl7pbxQZbA1Y92UvEcfPTB-ZigojJ0hGHLoDNp0bl0hlNHJK-QhLw/s320/DSC03599.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="st"><br />While chewing on the first one, I looked it up and confirmed that it doesn't pork (or any meat for that matter). They're a type of cheese curd floating in a light syrup, and as far as I know, they're local to Higüey. They're not bad, try it if you get the chance.<br /></span>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-3723619665960827572013-03-02T16:44:00.000-08:002013-03-02T16:44:14.687-08:00Independence DayFebruary 27 is Dominican Independence Day! The Dominican Republic gained its independence from Haiti in 1844, making it the only country in the western hemisphere that doesn't celebrate its independence from a European country.<br />
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Instead of fireworks, Dominicans celebrate Independence Day with noise. Lots of noise. They take the mufflers off of the few motorcycles that actually have them and tear up and down the street. Or they just blast music at full volume. Hey, it's safer than explosives, and nobody can sleep through this holiday!<br />
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There's also dressing up and dancing at Carnaval, but not much happened in my site this year. That's not to say there wasn't any festive spirit. Plenty of people got dressed up anyway.<br />
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And even the ones who didn't go for the crazy carnaval outfits found ways to have fun. <br />
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The Spiderman mask work particularly well with the Tinkerbell dress, don't you think? Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-12066785908950056832013-02-26T16:40:00.000-08:002013-02-26T16:40:37.442-08:00Chocolate Chip Cookies!When I was home for Christmas, I picked up an item that's a crucial part of American culture:<br />
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They don't have chocolate chips in this country, so they don't have
chocolate chip cookies. As a Peace Corps volunteer, it's one of my
duties to help Dominicans learn about the important aspects of American
culture (and the world at large) that aren't part of Dominican life. So,
obviously, I was obligated to bake cookies with some friends.<br /><br />I
got most of the ingredients (except the chocolate chips) from
supermarkets here in the DR. I didn't want to use up my friends' food,
but I did depend on them for bowls and pans and a stove (and gas for the
stove, which isn't always available).<br /><br />I started at the house of
my friend Eliza, who loves baking and has plenty of supplies. She's
mostly familiar with cakes, but picked up on cookies quickly and we
ended up with a good batch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As I said, she mainly bakes cakes, so we ended up baking cookies in cake pans!</td></tr>
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The next week, I went to my former host family. They weren't quite as
well equipped, and their oven didn't get very hot, and I didn't add
enough flour, but they were still the best chocolate chip cookies they'd
ever tasted.<br />
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Finally, I baked with the family of one of my first reading students.
I'd brought them the Spanish version of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,"
and that was where I got the idea of baking cookies in the first place.
They had the least supplies of anyone, but we made do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcndaPywkE9GWioWtqVt-_-pcjc8eoiU2-lriI3TbYtoLznKyqF4Yf7_CkMNblBuWJX9G4t5NkfaR1ggFw7usgVe9BSOb_iDpegZn9QpjMJFMmIEkYMTqCqkPqfShMKImr656_IqoHi0/s1600/DSC02562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcndaPywkE9GWioWtqVt-_-pcjc8eoiU2-lriI3TbYtoLznKyqF4Yf7_CkMNblBuWJX9G4t5NkfaR1ggFw7usgVe9BSOb_iDpegZn9QpjMJFMmIEkYMTqCqkPqfShMKImr656_IqoHi0/s320/DSC02562.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They didn't have a 1 Cup measure, so we filled a pitcher with 1 Cup of water, poured it into this cup, and marked it off with a pencil. I think we made it too small, but it worked. More or less.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn91KX6L_CAKoSesOWrLQKOwYjIAnENjxxUNSSiakeb75JVQUqG5mVW5tmEbHcGKBkgLRjVQY3u16rtq9y7mbB7j6jl3wSYWuZX822wrUXW08Y732GCf9i1sQVyKqAZcPG07QWYGSg3E/s1600/DSC02601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn91KX6L_CAKoSesOWrLQKOwYjIAnENjxxUNSSiakeb75JVQUqG5mVW5tmEbHcGKBkgLRjVQY3u16rtq9y7mbB7j6jl3wSYWuZX822wrUXW08Y732GCf9i1sQVyKqAZcPG07QWYGSg3E/s320/DSC02601.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />I left the recipe at all three houses, but I don't know how often they'll get a chance to use it (and they'll have to break up their own pieces of chocolate). It made me wonder which is worse: never having chocolate chip cookies at all, or only having them once?Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-12172656147985457372012-12-07T18:05:00.002-08:002012-12-07T18:05:38.754-08:00Flush Toilet!<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not much has changed recently. I've been doing literacy work with kids, and they've been learning, slowly but surely. Some more slowly, and some more surely. The semester is coming to a close, though, and they have tests to take, so I don't know how much more I'll work with them this year.<br /><br />I also don't know if I'll be working with them much next year. The principal called me in yesterday and wanted me to switch to working in 7th and 8th grade teaching English. My English classes in the school last year were not pretty, but she assures me that the 7th grade class only has 24 students, and they're well behaved and very manageable. I have my doubts, but students have been asking me to help me with their English worksheets, which include English words such as the colors 'bleu' and 'maron' (for blue and brown) and the animals 'superfly' and 'tigre'. If they're going to ignore their English class, they might as well be ignoring real English.<br /><br />Some good news from about a month ago: after more than a year of living in a toolshed with no bathroom, I've increased my standard of living...I'm now living in a toolshed *with* a bathroom! My landlord has been talking about building something since before I moved in, but I finally pointed out that I could give him an advance on the rent, but the amount of rent left to be advanced was getting pretty smaller each month. I was expecting a latrine out in the yard (he had a hole, all he needed to do was put up some walls and a roof), but they installed a flush toilet and a shower.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I still have no door, but since I live alone, it doesn't seem like an urgent need.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice the low-flow, environmentally friendly showerhead.</td></tr>
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<br />Seriously, I've got indoor plumbing. If it weren't for the mosquitoes, I wouldn't know I was in the Peace Corps. All that's missing is for all the water to be clean enough to drink and to come in any temperature I wish, immediately. And those machines that do your dishes and wash your clothes for you. Haha, as if things like that actually exist. How about a magic box that produces a hot meal in a couple of minutes, just by pushing some buttons on the side? What would people do with all their time?</div>
Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-54051816885578731622012-10-29T08:49:00.001-07:002012-10-29T08:49:49.087-07:00Update on my Goddaughter<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have an update on <a href="http://saintdominicsrepublic.blogspot.com/2011/12/happiest-post-yet.html">the girl who entered the children's home last December</a>. Unfortunately, it's not a very cheerful update.<br /><br />She's never fully settled in to life in the Home. She never really settled in here in my site either. From what I can tell, she misses her mom, who generally treated her well. But her mom is mentally unwell and not at all able to care for a 9-year-old daughter. Besides that, nobody's sure where she is, and there's conflicting reports about whether she's even still alive.<br /><br />Generally, my goddaughter is missing her family, so she insists that she wants to go back to live with her grandmother. She's smart enough to know that if she insists enough (and misbehaves enough), eventually they'll have to let her go. However, the grandmother was abusive and remains unwilling to take her in. Workers from the children's home drove to her house yesterday, and she wouldn't even go visit, instead sending her 13-year-old daughter. If she can't be bothered to visit for a day, surely she won't be much of a parent for the next ten years.<br /><br />I toyed with the idea of adoption before finding the Home, but that's sounding even less possible now. The social workers aren't really considering that option because they're worried about what she might do in a new family.<br /><br />And there aren't many other options. The host family here won't take her back, because her behavior is so problematic. We haven't been able to contact any other relatives. Nobody except the children's home is willing and able to take her, but she can't stay there unless she changes her mind (and her behavior). I hope that an encounter with her grandmother will make her change her mind, but the grandmother refuses to visit, and the rule is if a child leaves, they can't come back (otherwise they'd be dealing with lots more misbehavior to get extra vacation time).<br /><br />Prayers are very welcome.</div>
Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-81771403446637553992012-10-21T11:32:00.001-07:002012-10-21T11:42:41.845-07:00Cleft Palate<div style="text-align: justify;">
I wasn't actually very involved in this, but it's a story with a happy ending, so I'll share it anyway.<br />
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Almost a year ago, I was walking through the community with another PC Volunteer, the PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader) of the education sector, who had come to see my site. A woman called us over and said her grandson had just been born with a cleft palate, and wanted to know if we could help. Fortunately, Jean, the PCVL, knew of the Garrity Medical Mission that came to the country every year and performed the corrective surgery for cleft palate. I sent in some pictures and helped the family make an appointment for the upcoming February.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjHnCTEYAvkhXMtbzf1ddj4blwe1qhLzo7Ptss7g1Hgd-ERTvmZ5LcTqNckhyphenhyphenVx1L1de1LvAtMnYGS7ABqoI83z45Uay7AZGe0HlLxN0GHo_Wt-swguo62sMt5gGouDvU8wWN55NlaxgQ/s1600/DSC07797.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjHnCTEYAvkhXMtbzf1ddj4blwe1qhLzo7Ptss7g1Hgd-ERTvmZ5LcTqNckhyphenhyphenVx1L1de1LvAtMnYGS7ABqoI83z45Uay7AZGe0HlLxN0GHo_Wt-swguo62sMt5gGouDvU8wWN55NlaxgQ/s320/DSC07797.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The family was very proactive, and found another opportunity for the surgery at a local hospital. Unfortunately, the initial checkup appointments conflicted, and they missed the chance with the Medical Mission, and the other group decided they couldn't help. They were going to wait until February of next year to try again with Garrity, but managed to find someone else willing to do the surgery.<br />
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The boy's grandmother sells snacks in the school during recess, so I got updates every week from her, and it sounded like the date kept getting pushed further back. But after after about ten months of appointments, they successfully did the surgery this month!</div>
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When I visited, the boy was giving his new smile a lot of use.</div>
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Before:</div>
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After:</div>
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I've seen pictures like this before, but it was extra neat to see it right here in my community. And I almost had a hand in making in happen!</div>
Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-25405821932892941512012-10-14T11:21:00.000-07:002012-10-14T11:21:50.388-07:00Teaching Reading in 3rd Grade<div style="text-align: justify;">
I know it's been forever since I updated this blog, and I'm sorry. It's not forgotten, it's just...um...never remembered.</div>
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My main project here in the Peace Corps has been children's literacy, and this school year I've been extra busy, joining the 3rd grade class whenever it's in session. I've worked in 3rd grade the past two school years, but the first year I was only around for a month, and last year I had other projects and only went in once a week. I didn't see many results last year, so this year I'm focusing in and going every day.</div>
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I'm also actually organized this year. I made a list of all the students and their reading levels, which helps me chart progress and know what to practice with each student (it also helped the teacher prepare her roster and do her own literacy reporting).</div>
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There are over forty students enlisted in the 3rd grade class, and about 36 of them come regularly. They're at all difference reading levels, but at most two or three of them can truly read fluently. The Dominican educational system has a lot of problems, one of which is a law that doesn't allow anyone to be held back in first or second grade...this means 3rd grade can include students who aren't even ready to be in second. Also, there are a lot of students and not enough funding or teachers, so each student only goes to school for half a day, either the morning session (8-noon) or the afternoon session (2-5:30). This year, for the first time, there's only one 3rd grade session, which is in the afternoon. The same teacher gives 1st grade in the mornings.</div>
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My main struggle is trying to teach 30+ students to read in only 3.5 hours a day (significantly less time in practice, with recess every day, PE three days a week, and inefficiency constantly).</div>
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This is my view as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I sit in the back and call kids over one by one. I have a few different activities, but mostly I work from simple reading textbooks that can be bought in any supermarket. I try to focus on the kids who need the most help, but everyone wants their turn. A lot of time is spent shooing other kids away so my current reader isn't distracted.</div>
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I set up a camera on the shelf next to my table, so I can have a record of some of the kids' progress. The quality isn't great, but you can get an idea what class is like.</div>
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Being a Catholic country, our days start with a prayer. Here, a student is leading the class in the Lord's Prayer/Our Father.</div>
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These are a couple clips of students reading from the first few pages of the books. The girl is reading 'Papá ama a Pepe' (Dad loves Pepe), and the boy is reading a few simple 'P' words.</div>
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The kids are almost always eager to take a turn reading and generally focus really well while they're with me. But I don't want to give the idea that they're a bunch of model students...chaos and noise are a defining part of my experience. There's no way my little camera can capture the level of noise echoing around those cement walls, but it did capture a couple things in the background:</div>
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Off to the left you can see a minor fight. It's been a while since I was in elementary school, but I don't remember these being common in my classes. Here, there are several of these every day, and this one wasn't big enough for anyone to bother getting involved.</div>
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Then there was this guy, near the center of the video. I didn't notice him at the time, and it's too blurry for me to tell who it is, but I have a few guesses!</div>
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<br />My camera wasn't hidden. For the most part, the kids ignored it, but this girl called me out. She's kind of a troublemaker, but I like her. I spent extra time reading at her friend's house this summer, and she was often around for that. When I tell her I'm recording, she says, "Ay, no!" and then wants to see the clip. Later that day, I was mobbed by kids who watched themselves on fast-forward and laughed hysterically. I have a fun job.<br />
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Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-51981396942111100742012-06-25T18:17:00.001-07:002012-06-25T18:17:47.867-07:00Priceless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A perm in our host family's salon: RD$500 <br />
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Supplies for an epic cake: RD$300 (time and talent donated by the chef). <br />
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A crowd to help celebrate: 5 minutes of mentioning a party, and 20 minutes to let the word spread.<br />
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Grilled cheese and Coke to feed the crowd: RD$300 + 20 minutes of cooking.<br />
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Assorted presents: RD$400 <br />
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The smile on my goddaughter's face when I threw her possibly the only birthday party she has ever had: absolutely priceless!<br />
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<br />Halfway through the preparations, my host sister mentioned that if I ever have a daughter, I'll probably dote on her a lot. I don't know where she got a crazy idea like that.Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-70084615893398027742012-06-18T23:29:00.001-07:002012-06-18T23:29:25.656-07:00CCLF SHYG+YWAM+PCV=Too Many Acronyms<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJYfQByHpMGf6gK_mFLxcNLhZsXHqquAAr8oo1sstAWOh8iui7gVrt0JoxRBDOxNYhTB5HBcoFLXC8H9-1JCa5elarTyGWZwpP6TV4iTX1Ua_CRhXUSP7yuvuLlz4EPmoLw1xK4i4Dj4/s1600/DSC01519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJYfQByHpMGf6gK_mFLxcNLhZsXHqquAAr8oo1sstAWOh8iui7gVrt0JoxRBDOxNYhTB5HBcoFLXC8H9-1JCa5elarTyGWZwpP6TV4iTX1Ua_CRhXUSP7yuvuLlz4EPmoLw1xK4i4Dj4/s1600/DSC01519.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaxOvcveuaI3zrA28YQwTH51N8ZgBxvVa_wlluOM8qSaMF17Lgtc4CmqsITx7oosdrl-GrlJ07k46D5neCP7q06YZoPo_hQPd_mh77Oeq4lKMaDjb1eIIjEpN6fhKxYbmWefw72SX5UvA/s1600/DSC01523.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaxOvcveuaI3zrA28YQwTH51N8ZgBxvVa_wlluOM8qSaMF17Lgtc4CmqsITx7oosdrl-GrlJ07k46D5neCP7q06YZoPo_hQPd_mh77Oeq4lKMaDjb1eIIjEpN6fhKxYbmWefw72SX5UvA/s320/DSC01523.JPG" width="240" /></a>I had a nice treat last week: a group of high school students from my
family church back home came to build houses here in the DR. When I was
in high school, I did two mission trips with the same group and the
same pastor: one to Mexico and one to Costa Rica. They were awesome
experiences and part of what motivated me to join the Peace Corps.
Apparently, when they were planning trips this summer, they didn't pay
any attention to the fact that I was here, but still ended up coming to
work only about 20 minutes away from me!<br />
<br />
Best of all, they brought my brother and some other friends from church.
Obviously, most of their time had to be spent with the group working on
the houses they came to build, but I was able to pull out my brother to
visit my site all day Wednesday, and my friend Sabrina was able to
visit for a few hours on Friday. I spent Thursday with them finishing up
the construction.<br /><br />
My parents visited in February and spent a day getting to know my
community, but I think my brother Jason had a more complete experience
than anyone.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCa3-GX1Mh11vnCd1OP-uTtoJnHutZg90wRqUBStgJDqbxEh45bv1A5_CR_kITKnzdtVcOSy2mjZZtXpY8TNJZVfRCwqKH6FnYE3lYiDNmmw_f4VwcLKSPBcQue5exVj3ICOJp0PEwq8w/s1600/DSC01518.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCa3-GX1Mh11vnCd1OP-uTtoJnHutZg90wRqUBStgJDqbxEh45bv1A5_CR_kITKnzdtVcOSy2mjZZtXpY8TNJZVfRCwqKH6FnYE3lYiDNmmw_f4VwcLKSPBcQue5exVj3ICOJp0PEwq8w/s320/DSC01518.JPG" width="320" /></a> We rode with the church group into the city and got off in
front of the cathedral where I go to church. Then we walked through the
city (as I do every week) and caught a public bus up to my site. We
spent a little bit of time meeting almost everybody, and even made it
across the street to see some friends in the other batey.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCa3-GX1Mh11vnCd1OP-uTtoJnHutZg90wRqUBStgJDqbxEh45bv1A5_CR_kITKnzdtVcOSy2mjZZtXpY8TNJZVfRCwqKH6FnYE3lYiDNmmw_f4VwcLKSPBcQue5exVj3ICOJp0PEwq8w/s1600/DSC01518.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> Jason has
studied enough Spanish to be able to interact with people directly. He
especially connected with one of the local schoolteachers who has been
studying English; her English was about as good as his Spanish, so they
could communicate pretty comfortably between the two languages, and it
was really encouraging to both.<br />
<br />
Giving Sabrina the tour had a funny twist. I've told people in my site
that I don't have a girlfriend, but they didn't seem to believe that
when they saw me walking around with a pretty American girl. And unlike
other American women who have visited, I couldn't explain Sabrina away
as another volunteer; she was either a 'friend' or 'the aunt of my
godchildren' (which I think was interpreted as 'a particularly close
friend'). My landlady even mentioned that she had a spare bed
available...you know, depending on what the plans were for her visit. I
clarified that the plans were to meet a few people and then to rejoin
the group from church, and we behaved ourselves and followed the plan,
however countercultural that may have been. It does provide an
interesting look at Dominican male-female relationships. Apparently
there's only really one kind.<br />
<br />
Sabrina only met a few families, but I made sure they were fun families,
and (as I knew would happen) she connected really well with some of the
kids. But the time we were checking out the school, she had a young
friend under each arm. I wish there were someone like her to mentor some
of these young girls, because lots of them follow the culture and are
mothers by 15. I do what I can, but that's limited by the fact that I'm
not a woman. But it's late, and I digress.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJYfQByHpMGf6gK_mFLxcNLhZsXHqquAAr8oo1sstAWOh8iui7gVrt0JoxRBDOxNYhTB5HBcoFLXC8H9-1JCa5elarTyGWZwpP6TV4iTX1Ua_CRhXUSP7yuvuLlz4EPmoLw1xK4i4Dj4/s1600/DSC01519.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJYfQByHpMGf6gK_mFLxcNLhZsXHqquAAr8oo1sstAWOh8iui7gVrt0JoxRBDOxNYhTB5HBcoFLXC8H9-1JCa5elarTyGWZwpP6TV4iTX1Ua_CRhXUSP7yuvuLlz4EPmoLw1xK4i4Dj4/s320/DSC01519.JPG" width="320" /></a>The visits were fun, the group built three houses, and the trip was
considered a great success, which is awesome for me, because that means
they're planning to come back next year. <i>Si Dios quiere</i>, I'll end my
service in 11 months, go home for a month, and then come right back with
the church to visit again for a few days. This may even turn into a
regular trip for several years. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJYfQByHpMGf6gK_mFLxcNLhZsXHqquAAr8oo1sstAWOh8iui7gVrt0JoxRBDOxNYhTB5HBcoFLXC8H9-1JCa5elarTyGWZwpP6TV4iTX1Ua_CRhXUSP7yuvuLlz4EPmoLw1xK4i4Dj4/s1600/DSC01519.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>I know the transition back to the US
will be difficult for me, but this could make the shift a little easier.
And really, if the group has an alumn who's fluent in Dominican Spanish
and eager to participate, why wouldn't they keep coming down to this
tropical island?</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-29874307362724256902012-05-21T10:00:00.000-07:002012-05-21T10:00:58.084-07:00Hablando Dominicano<div style="text-align: justify;">
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This post is dedicated to my lovely
cousin Caroline, a Spanish student after my own heart. Spanish was
one of my favorite subjects in middle school and high school, and
I've had the chance to put it to very good use. In a few years, maybe
she'll get to use Spanish as much as I do, although I hope her
experience involves few mosquitoes!</div>
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<br />
<hr />
<br />
"¿Aonde tú 'taba?"<br />
"Mete lo guineo en la funda."<br />
"Paco 'ta 'cotao."<br />
"Dame un chin desa lechosa."<br />
"¡Mi mai 'ta guapa!"<br />
<br />
For those of you who thought you spoke Spanish, don't worry if you can't decode the lines above; they're written in Dominican, which sometimes seems like it should be classified as another language.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Living here in the DR, I've enjoyed not
just learning more about how the Spanish language works, but also
learning about what makes the Dominican dialect different from other
varieties of Spanish. In this post I'll be explaining some of the
features of Dominican Spanish which makes it different than the
Spanish I learned in school.</div>
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<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Phonetics</h3>
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Phonetics is a linguistic term used to
talk about the sounds used in language, and it's probably this that
sets Dominican Spanish apart more than anything else. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
1.) The most famous
example is the letter S: Dominicans almost never pronounce the S a
the end of a syllable.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">English</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Spanish</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican Spanish</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>I'm looking for the matches</td>
<td>Busco los fósforos.</td>
<td>Buco lo fóforo.</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Not all the S's disappear, but only the
ones at the end of a syllable. Also, it's the S sound, and
not the letter, so Z and C can also be affected.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">English</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Spanish</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican Spanish</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>tailor</td>
<td>sastre</td>
<td>satre</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>system</td>
<td>sistema</td>
<td>sitema</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>rice</td>
<td>arroz</td>
<td>arró</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>pencil</td>
<td>lápiz</td>
<td>lapi</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Not pronouncing S at the end of words
can cause some confusion. It's not always clear whether a word is
singular or plural, but that usually doesn't impact the meaning
enough to cause trouble. The real problem is with verbs, because an S
is the only difference between 'you talk' (hablas) and 'he/she talks'
(habla) or 'you have' (tienes) and 'he/she has' (tiene). In places
like this where the meaning would be unclear, Dominicans use the
pronoun (tú), even though pronouns usually get left out in Spanish </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">English</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Spanish</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican Spanish</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>What do you have?</td>
<td>¿Qué tienes?</td>
<td>¿Qué tú tiene?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>How are you?</td>
<td>¿Cómo estás?</td>
<td>¿Cómo tú 'ta?</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
2.) Most Dominicans know that more 'formal'
or 'sophisticated' Spanish has more S's, so they'll sometimes add
them back in when they want to sound more educated. The problem is,
they usually don't know where the S's are supposed to be, so they add
them in the wrong places! Linguists call this
'hypercorrection'...they 'correct' things that don't need to be
corrected.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My name is Agustín (ah-goos-teen)
which becomes Agutín (actually, when a word ends in N it usually
becomes NG, so they pronounce my name 'a-goo-teeng'). But my name
can pick up one or two extra S's and turn into Asgusting or even
Asgustins. I've had someone offer me a ride on a 'mosto' (should be
'moto' – motorcycle), and one little girl asked to borrow my
'cásmara' (camera).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
3.) Another common phonetic change in
Dominican Spanish is dropping the letter D from between two vowels.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">English</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Spanish</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican Spanish</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>tired</td>
<td>cansado</td>
<td>cansao</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>nothing</td>
<td>nada</td>
<td>ná</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>everything/all</td>
<td>todo</td>
<td>tó</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<h3>
Lexicon</h3>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Lexicon is the linguistic term for
vocabulary. Dominicans use a few words that don't exist in other
dialects of Spanish, although some of them belong to the whole
Caribbean, not just to the Dominican Republic. Here are some of the
common ones:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">English</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Spanish</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican Spanish</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>a little</td>
<td>un poco/poquito</td>
<td>un chin</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>bus</td>
<td>autobús</td>
<td>guagua</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>thing</td>
<td>cosa</td>
<td>vaina (sometimes considered impolite)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>small</td>
<td>pequeño</td>
<td>chiquito</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>banana</td>
<td>banana</td>
<td>guineo</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>papaya</td>
<td>papaya</td>
<td>lechosa</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>goat</td>
<td>cabra</td>
<td>chivo</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>tree</td>
<td>árbol</td>
<td>mata</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>dad</td>
<td>papá</td>
<td>pai (from 'papi')</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>mom</td>
<td>mamá</td>
<td>mai (from 'mami')</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>where</td>
<td>dónde</td>
<td>aónde (from 'adónde')</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>to where</td>
<td>adónde</td>
<td>pa'onde (from 'para adónde')</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br />
'Para' very often gets shortened to 'pa' or even just 'p'.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are also some standard Spanish words that have a different meaning here in the DR:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Word</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Meaning</th>
<th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican Meaning</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>guapo</td>
<td>pretty/handsome</td>
<td>angry</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>bolsa</td>
<td>bag</td>
<td>scrotum</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>funda</td>
<td>pillowcase</td>
<td>bag</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
Examples </h3>
Finally, here are the sentences from the start of this post, translated twice: first from Dominican into Spanish, and then into English!</div>
<table border="1" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Dominican</th><th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">Standard Spanish</th><th style="text-align: center;" width="33%">English</th></tr>
<tr>
<td>¿Aonde tú 'taba?</td>
<td>¿Dónde estabas?</td>
<td>Where were you?</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Mete lo guineo en la funda.</td>
<td>Mete las bananas en la bolsa.</td>
<td>Put the bananas in the bag.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Paco 'ta 'cotao.</td>
<td>Paco está acostado.</td>
<td>Paco is lying down.</td>
</tr>
<tr><td>Dame un chin desa lechosa.</td>
<td>Dame un poquito de esa papaya.</td>
<td>Give me a little bit of that papaya.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>¡Mi mai 'ta guapa!</td>
<td>¡Mi madre está enojada!</td>
<td>My mom is angry!</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-75673700861993130342012-03-03T09:35:00.000-08:002012-03-03T09:37:57.341-08:007 Quick Takes Friday, Volume 2 (one day late)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_r2y3K2lmS7Md2UDtFoujWjkJwmZcwDGCIaXbBTUwc2DwMnh530FXlb3OQE2WRLu6e0x9B889IHD2Wkbspmz-jV__-Dz_YmvXf3PKoBBCrj7kmxC-PnbD81vNGBaz7XFGj69-WV4tfo/s1600/DSC01024.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_r2y3K2lmS7Md2UDtFoujWjkJwmZcwDGCIaXbBTUwc2DwMnh530FXlb3OQE2WRLu6e0x9B889IHD2Wkbspmz-jV__-Dz_YmvXf3PKoBBCrj7kmxC-PnbD81vNGBaz7XFGj69-WV4tfo/s1600/DSC01024.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>1) My parents came to visit last weekend! They were only here for a few days, but it was a great to see them. We spent last Saturday here in the batey; I showed them the community and introduced them to a bunch of people they couldn't really talk to. And everybody gave us food. We had La Bandera (rice and beans), habichuelas con dulce, fresh coconut, dry coconut, oranges, juice, cheese and crackers, and some of my homemade pickles. Then we went back for dinner at the hotel, and most of the meals for the next three days were all-you-can-eat buffets. After my parents left, I weighed myself and found I'd lost a pound. Curse my skinny-person metabolism! At least I know that being underweight doesn't mean I'm malnourished.<br />
<br />
Anyway, everybody was happy to finally meet my parents in person, and my parents were happy to see my site and my friends. We spent a couple of days taking advantage of the fact that I live on a tropical island with warm weather and beautiful beaches (I took advantage of the air conditioning and warm showers). It was a great break from my typical routine.<br />
<br />
2) My cat is a chicken. Not literally, although he would fit in well here as the bird. He's a wuss, a wimp, a fraidy-cat. My parents could hardly meet him because he was frantically trying to get away from me so he could hide. Any time I have a guest, he makes an undignified scramble under my bed. He's supposed to be a fierce tomcat hunter that keeps away the rats and stray dogs. So far he just keeps away cockroaches (although the rats don't realize he's a wimp and they stay away). Oh, well, he's still small, maybe he'll get a bit tougher as he grows some more.<br />
<br />
3) A couple of weeks ago I was able to visit the children's home and see my <a href="http://saintdominicsrepublic.blogspot.com/2011/12/happiest-post-yet.html">friend</a>. She's still adjusting, but doing pretty well! She's always quiet when I first arrive...my host family had the same experience when they visited. It could be that she's upset that we 'got rid of her', but that just means it's more important that we visit to show that we do care. She manages to open up a bit after a while (and after I pull out some gifts), and it's great to see her in her new life. She's finally in school, and by all accounts is enjoying it. She has two or three close friends and some adults that she's really close to. I was officially there to help translate for sponsors who were visiting from the States, but I was able to step in as her sponsor and pull her out of school for the afternoon so she could join us for some of the activities (skipping school is always exciting). I got to show her off to some other PCVs who were there to translate, and we agreed that she was the cutest one there.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_r2y3K2lmS7Md2UDtFoujWjkJwmZcwDGCIaXbBTUwc2DwMnh530FXlb3OQE2WRLu6e0x9B889IHD2Wkbspmz-jV__-Dz_YmvXf3PKoBBCrj7kmxC-PnbD81vNGBaz7XFGj69-WV4tfo/s1600/DSC01024.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_r2y3K2lmS7Md2UDtFoujWjkJwmZcwDGCIaXbBTUwc2DwMnh530FXlb3OQE2WRLu6e0x9B889IHD2Wkbspmz-jV__-Dz_YmvXf3PKoBBCrj7kmxC-PnbD81vNGBaz7XFGj69-WV4tfo/s320/DSC01024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I love the organization. It's called Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos and it has homes all around Latin America. None of the kids are available for adoption, because they want to provide a loving family and a home that the kids will never lose. It was founded by Father Wasson, a priest from Arizona who gained custody of several boys instead of pressing charges when they stole from his church in Mexico. The man deserves to be sainted. He had a huge heart for kids and has made an incredible impact on the lives of thousands of children who came from desperate situations. Seriously, if I could invent from scratch an organization to take care of hundreds of needy children, I couldn't make any improvements on NPH.<br />
<br />
4) Everybody wants to learn English. I have several steady students and several more who are asking me to start a class that they may or may not show up to. I think I'll set apart a day to have a large class, and then I can tell people to go to that. If (when) they stop showing up, they won't be able to complain that I'm not teaching. But those who make a genuine effort can learn.<br />
<br />
5) It's good that English classes have picked up, because my work in children's literacy has hit a hitch: a local bureaucrat has banned me (at least temporarily) from helping with reading in the school. In a meeting with some school officials, she actually accused me of illegal activity because I was helping kids learn to read...from the wrong textbook. I'm not kidding. It seems there's a new government-mandated methodology, and I'm harming the kids by following the old one (which is how I learned, how most of these teachers learned, and the only method anyone at the school is familiar with). I may have gotten some of the other teachers in trouble because it came out that they were also supporters of the old method. But honestly, the situation is kind of funny, except for the fact that the lots of the kids truly can't read and somebody has to do something with them. I can wait until I get trained in the new method, or I can 'go rogue' and teach in the homes instead of the schools. I'm such a thug with my contraband textbooks. Fo shizzle.<br />
<br />
6) February 27 was Dominican Independence Day. I would tell you what it was like, but I was hanging out with tourists in the hotel, and nobody seemed to notice. Yeah, I should have been in my site integrating. Maybe next year.<br />
<br />
7) March 1 marked the 51st anniversary of the Peace Corps and the 1st anniversary of my leaving home. I didn't arrive here in the DR until several days later, because I was sick in Washington DC. But still, I'm a year into my PC experience, and I have about 14 months left. It's shocking that I'm almost halfway done.Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-34155101326994412102012-01-21T19:40:00.000-08:002012-01-22T15:18:58.025-08:00Medical Mission<div style="text-align: justify;">
I spent the first couple of weeks of the new year out in the mountains (in the province of Santiago) on a Medican Mission. There is a group from the University of Southern Maine (students, teachers, and local doctors and nurses) who come in twice a year to run clinics for several small towns, and they ask PC to send volunteers to translate. Medical Missions are always popular with PCVs, so I was glad I got the chance to go on this one. I wasn't disappointed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_VwZaiLQGniSK7mJV9h8pOv7a-4awv1HqzzeqklI90ARjTGBzmRpIzs5pFA5bAwV-mfiLZhTDE-kVYJ2SX8-DwD4s0twv_9TApsM72mLgbPTGOLmwVE9j5Dmdf_u-zOVUWYs-cNZFP8/s1600/DSC09117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_VwZaiLQGniSK7mJV9h8pOv7a-4awv1HqzzeqklI90ARjTGBzmRpIzs5pFA5bAwV-mfiLZhTDE-kVYJ2SX8-DwD4s0twv_9TApsM72mLgbPTGOLmwVE9j5Dmdf_u-zOVUWYs-cNZFP8/s320/DSC09117.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Everyone kept telling me how beautiful it is out in the Cibao (the central region of the DR). There really was some spectacular scenery, although the rainy/foggy ('Bellingham') weather often obscured the view. In a typical day, the ~80 of us would split into two groups and each group would visit a different community. Patients would line up and be shown in whenever a medical provider was ready. The providers were usually med students under the guidance of an experienced nurse, and whenever possible we (the interpreters) would stay with the same student all day. The patients tell us their problems, we relay it to the student, the RN guides them along if they have any questions, and they check with a Physician to be sure of the diagnosis and medications.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2Xy2R1E8H03GubSlnDRA_SkfD1oTLFmNftBgeXMuRk_ZbfxE2lP9MErye1t7T1FP_JO4MPZ58mgbPHZ3zNMd6x3kBF8Hfp3xvKv8-9ArUjLLVgSR7_DJrUVUpZ4ZsLRGkUZeV5LOn5A/s1600/DSC09343.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2Xy2R1E8H03GubSlnDRA_SkfD1oTLFmNftBgeXMuRk_ZbfxE2lP9MErye1t7T1FP_JO4MPZ58mgbPHZ3zNMd6x3kBF8Hfp3xvKv8-9ArUjLLVgSR7_DJrUVUpZ4ZsLRGkUZeV5LOn5A/s320/DSC09343.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A typical setup, this time in a church. We also set up in schools.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There was also a team of Athletic Trainers (and one Occupational Therapist) to help people with some aches and pains. They were notoriously difficult to interpret for, because they would describe obscure motions and excersizes and talk about ligaments and strange muscle groups. But they (along with everyone else in the group) were fun people to work with, so we could forgive their complicated language.<br />
<br />
I've never done any interpreting before, and I really enjoyed it, although there were some difficulties. Obviously, there was complications whenever a patient used a word I didn't know ('gallbladder' wasn't a vocab word in my high school Spanish class). Also, we were supposed to use 'first person' interpreting, which means when a patient says, "me duele la pierna," should say "my leg hurts," instead of "she says her leg hurts." That style of interpreting allows the interpreter to fade into the background a bit more, but it was really difficult to get used to. Especially when I was helping a female patient with a yeast infection, and I had to tell the provider about my itchy vagina.<br />
<br />
Besides translating for patients, I often helped run the program for kids. I opened with a short song, and then I translated while someone gave a quick lesson on nutrician and dental hygiene. We usually also painted their teeth with flouride and the doctors checked their hearts and lungs, but that was really just for fun, because if they actually had any problems or complaints they would have a full checkup along with their parents.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxl-1WPT0RYiy6Scr26tpcsXbmfTpMpAoq1a5Tm9ac4nGsh32V7ktVqD1kgXyrkqH8LFOcM0io4szjQVg8T8fQGQilB9SYPiNYdPVvI50kZiVUUJuC3gK2qKEgKvAAj-uRg3OUu7G2XQ/s1600/DSC09252.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxl-1WPT0RYiy6Scr26tpcsXbmfTpMpAoq1a5Tm9ac4nGsh32V7ktVqD1kgXyrkqH8LFOcM0io4szjQVg8T8fQGQilB9SYPiNYdPVvI50kZiVUUJuC3gK2qKEgKvAAj-uRg3OUu7G2XQ/s320/DSC09252.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kids gathered around for the nutrition lesson.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWYO735lFjWMrpsmbY7Vdp-23cgfkC6mds8pXFFPRgqx6FH2xkuTFat-ZkOK9rl-2p2EaxSW42ckSV7sKFQU-_mq__NN_NOwg-mrHG-qTWUu58xaCDGXJow_jz7Ile14N2cvY4CwGy2k/s1600/DSC09254.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWYO735lFjWMrpsmbY7Vdp-23cgfkC6mds8pXFFPRgqx6FH2xkuTFat-ZkOK9rl-2p2EaxSW42ckSV7sKFQU-_mq__NN_NOwg-mrHG-qTWUu58xaCDGXJow_jz7Ile14N2cvY4CwGy2k/s320/DSC09254.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our felt display, with some fruits and veggies in the 'good' category.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFeLeK2QcUpIk-6f_o6LTGAPOLnR4AnD_95r8nKthLwW1NWt-_GXZB14jxjuBGR2f8uBWZOCjtNVCgx4omqM_5loBFkG85eFpA3m_u2G3JGgsCNnu4ORbdARS5v67tGMx3KnmiHlpcDk/s1600/DSC09282.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFeLeK2QcUpIk-6f_o6LTGAPOLnR4AnD_95r8nKthLwW1NWt-_GXZB14jxjuBGR2f8uBWZOCjtNVCgx4omqM_5loBFkG85eFpA3m_u2G3JGgsCNnu4ORbdARS5v67tGMx3KnmiHlpcDk/s320/DSC09282.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first group I worked with, just before our song.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your truly painting flouride on a girl's teeth. It apparently tasted pretty bad, because they'd stay still until we finished, and then run off spitting.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEu9boTxoKh9fhR7ooHTdKgd-lxMNTgnMm5FBwUCE0d3DSkgLd2X2N98jl7ruL0925EnKtXM_GKn8F2Kb_1SbBj10WSYikteVQ7bjWfoK-3b4_fplxJBKPb1AP_vXgCsK-eP8iOZeIEU/s1600/DSC09354.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>There were also small groups (couple of students, a doctor, an Athletic Trainer, and an interpreter) who would go out on home visits. Patients who could leave their house could receive in-home care. In one home visit, I saw a family with a formerly alcoholic father, a currently alcoholic son, a severely schizophrenic son, and a daughter with Down's Syndrome who has refused to leave her bed for eight months (and believe it or not, the mom has high blood pressure). We were able to supply some medications for the schizophrenic man and his mom, but there wasn't a lot we could do for the others. On another home visit, we checked up on a man who had recently started chemotherapy. He already had the meds he needed, and his family was taking good care of him. My favorite home visit, though, was this couple:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEu9boTxoKh9fhR7ooHTdKgd-lxMNTgnMm5FBwUCE0d3DSkgLd2X2N98jl7ruL0925EnKtXM_GKn8F2Kb_1SbBj10WSYikteVQ7bjWfoK-3b4_fplxJBKPb1AP_vXgCsK-eP8iOZeIEU/s1600/DSC09354.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEu9boTxoKh9fhR7ooHTdKgd-lxMNTgnMm5FBwUCE0d3DSkgLd2X2N98jl7ruL0925EnKtXM_GKn8F2Kb_1SbBj10WSYikteVQ7bjWfoK-3b4_fplxJBKPb1AP_vXgCsK-eP8iOZeIEU/s320/DSC09354.JPG" width="320" /></a>He's 89 and after multiple strokes is very limited in mobility. His 78 year old wife is amazing. She helps him move around, prepares the few foods for which he has any appetite, keeps track of all his medications, and still manages the housework. Her only complaint was occasional back pain after chopping firewood(!). She said they'd been together since she was 13 and had 11 children together (many of whom are around and helping out), and "either he'll take me to the grave, or I'll take him to the grave." The world needs more people and more marriages like this one (actually, better that they start a little later than 13 year old, but besides that).<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEu9boTxoKh9fhR7ooHTdKgd-lxMNTgnMm5FBwUCE0d3DSkgLd2X2N98jl7ruL0925EnKtXM_GKn8F2Kb_1SbBj10WSYikteVQ7bjWfoK-3b4_fplxJBKPb1AP_vXgCsK-eP8iOZeIEU/s1600/DSC09354.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCT2j5M6ntmKvFDC74GtONcIoeeo7ttznr3cEPNKjF37aRwjQsG2jl08dF166nvDlhY4_KYCsW_0mbccldT5Ki4_Sab3pemZexEZ86QFbJpjqxKvZfU8zNw58ih2xYsb0_7ZTRZk5S0nQ/s1600/DSC09174.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCT2j5M6ntmKvFDC74GtONcIoeeo7ttznr3cEPNKjF37aRwjQsG2jl08dF166nvDlhY4_KYCsW_0mbccldT5Ki4_Sab3pemZexEZ86QFbJpjqxKvZfU8zNw58ih2xYsb0_7ZTRZk5S0nQ/s200/DSC09174.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidshEV27YQT1JhmYl6LcVgyqggidNvlNkgsBrb-qznYWOeyJ-Bitr1Y_7AD5fMFvlCfuve4GsUJjZly25ISjVkvMfmhgLSUzOpm1xn5FNiGJofwABNlQigIpQ1B6uazAK2ZxzbgX6d0W4/s1600/DSC09167.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidshEV27YQT1JhmYl6LcVgyqggidNvlNkgsBrb-qznYWOeyJ-Bitr1Y_7AD5fMFvlCfuve4GsUJjZly25ISjVkvMfmhgLSUzOpm1xn5FNiGJofwABNlQigIpQ1B6uazAK2ZxzbgX6d0W4/s200/DSC09167.JPG" width="150" /></a>The place we stayed was also really neat. It's a Claretian retreat center, and it had a wonderful serious of trails through the woods with signs displaying the Stations of the Cross. There was also a nice little chapel hidden back in the woods. The accomodations were fairly comfortable (at least by Peace Corps standards), we had hot meals prepared for us, and there was a group of women who did laundry every day. We Peace Corps Volunteers didn't get paid, but we also didn't have to pay anything to be very well taken care of for two weeks.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy was staying at the center with us.</td></tr>
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This was definitely an experience I want to repeat in the future. I got to see old PC friends (and make some new ones), to meet some quality people coming in to run medical clinics, to help out a bunch of Dominicans who don't likely have any other medical care, to see another region of the DR, and to try my hand at semi-official interpreting. And I got to speak English and eat PB&J, and no PCV can refuse that!</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-73363190034388648212011-12-29T20:12:00.000-08:002011-12-29T20:12:34.836-08:00Tropical Christmas<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here in the DR, the 24th is a bigger holiday than the 25th, and it's celebrated Thanksgiving-style: a massive meal with the extended family! My day started with brunch at a nearby volunteer's house. We had American food (pancakes!) and spoke English and I got to meet a couple of newly arrived volunteers. It's strange that I'm already a 'sophomore'.<br /><br />For the real meal later on, I had too many invitations (not a bad problem to have)! I started out at the house of my project partner. The food was delicious, and there was more of it than I have most days. Exactly how holiday meals are supposed to work!</div>
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From there I dropped by to say hi to some friends and went on to my former host family. Again, the food was delicious, and again there was a lot of it. I made it about 80% through this plate before I had to quit. And then the food coma set in...</div>
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I stopped by just to see one more family before heading home, and they borrowed my camera and got a bunch of good pictures of their beautifully laid out table:</div>
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Christmas was a fairly normal Sunday for me. I went into the city for church and had McDonalds for lunch. In the afternoon I Skyped with some friends and family, and my house was crashed by a bunch of kids (fortunately while I was talking to a friend who speaks Spanish, so they were able to chat for a bit). In the evening I made grilled cheese sandwiches again for one of the families I didn't get to visit the night before. And they had saved me a plate, so while they had grilled cheese, I had another heaping plate of holiday food.</div>
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Dominicans don't typically exchange gifts on Christmas (Jan 6 is the day celebrating the three kings who brought gifts to baby Jesus, so that's when the kids get presents). Instead, Christmas is a time to show off nice new clothes. Unfortunately, my camera always seemed to be either out of charge or not with me, so I only have one (blurry) picture of a girl in her fancy new dress with grilled cheese in each hand!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JQO6EtEXgoE/Tv05ND8qHYI/AAAAAAAAAP4/x9HYdyaOaNw/s1600/DSC08908.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JQO6EtEXgoE/Tv05ND8qHYI/AAAAAAAAAP4/x9HYdyaOaNw/s320/DSC08908.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-60057924825602675872011-12-22T16:46:00.000-08:002011-12-22T16:46:45.681-08:00El Seibo Visit<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQshtiGxwyA/TvPO7YFDTRI/AAAAAAAAANw/RROTpdx3YaM/s1600/DSC08464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQshtiGxwyA/TvPO7YFDTRI/AAAAAAAAANw/RROTpdx3YaM/s320/DSC08464.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such a lovely little town. It's a shame my site doesn't have views like this.</td></tr>
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This weekend I finally went back to El Seibo to visit my former host family. When we first arrived in the country we had ten weeks of training: five weeks in the capital (Santo Domingo), and five weeks in 'Community Based Training' (CBT) getting hands-on experience. For those of us in the education sector, our CBT was in El Seibo, a wonderful town in the east with 24 hour electricity and very low crime. I really loved the host family I lived with, and even requested to be placed in the East so I could go back and visit them. But despite getting my request, it took me eight months to get back there (I almost made it out in October, but they were sick when I was free).<br /><br />It was great to see them, and they're all doing well. They're not wealthy, but they've found some additional sources of income (selling paintings for a friend and selling meat pies from their house) and seem to be doing better than they were when I was living with them. But maybe it's just that my perspective has changed: they're probably wealthier than anyone in my batey. The house had been fixed up and repainted some though, and the mom is studying nursing, so I really think their situation is improving.<br /><br />We didn't do anything very exciting, but still managed to have fun. I taught them UNO and Kings on the Corners, and we made grilled cheese sandwiches one night. I visited some of the other people and places I knew. There used to be a cousin living with us, but he was back with his family in another town, so I didn't see him or the neighbor girl who moved away to live with her mom.<br /><br />I didn't get many pictures worth sharing, but I did want to show off the ghetto basketball hoop that my host brother (just turned 13) made with some neighborhood boys.</div>
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<br />Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-90508950502457671922011-12-14T17:37:00.000-08:002011-12-22T16:53:53.227-08:00Happiest Post Yet!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I haven't yet mentioned this on my blog for privacy and security reasons, but now that everything is resolved I'm going to share about a side project of mine that's been going on for almost 6 months.</div>
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On June 25, a young girl came to live with my host family (I was still living there at the time). I've heard conflicting stories about her history, but there was certainly abuse and neglect, and the police had finally taken her away from the grandmother with whom she was staying (when not left to roam the streets). My host brother is a police officer, and he brought her to our batey to live while somebody found her a permanent home.</div>
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Once she was no longer with the police, they forgot about her, so I became the 'somebody' who needed to find her a home. The nuns next door helped, and even found a couple of families willing to adopt her, but she refused to leave my host family, which was the best home she'd ever known (not that that is saying much). While I'm grateful to my host family for housing her for so long, there is a reason I moved out at my first opportunity, even if it meant moving into a toolshed. The way I see it is that there's a severe lack of love in that house, and the more this girl realized that, the more she misbehaved, and the worse they responded. While I don't believe they broke any Dominican laws, the psychological and emotional environment they created was painful for me, not to mention how hard it must have been for an 8 year old orphan.</div>
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She didn't have anywhere else to go, however, except back to the abusive grandmother (which was a frequent threat from my host family). I<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCWTfcviZPCnCuq4GrUfzl3K1VCIJE8SF1zIIAXKkSHT6upTZEEeINlU3a8X-dO4Ukz8PiW5gbm48jc8jI8PuEvmIr85MI9eFPeKOkFV7G4o4IBMnwiwqQEBvrjdIYznKC5Rqq94OI3Q/s1600/DSC04187.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCWTfcviZPCnCuq4GrUfzl3K1VCIJE8SF1zIIAXKkSHT6upTZEEeINlU3a8X-dO4Ukz8PiW5gbm48jc8jI8PuEvmIr85MI9eFPeKOkFV7G4o4IBMnwiwqQEBvrjdIYznKC5Rqq94OI3Q/s320/DSC04187.JPG" width="320" /></a> seriously considered adopting her: I have a better education, more money, and certainly more chances to make money than almost anybody in my community, and my interaction with kids doesn't involve whacking them with a stick. If my adopting her had been her best option, I'm not sure how I could have refused, but I found a nearby children's home that will be better for her than a 24 year old single guy from a foreign country.<br />
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Thus began months of slogging through the Dominican legal system. We're not her family, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBHLI70jRkHHQ5WN3i9WupU0wwUBlf8IXvJ0vBMLKZbFHZxddG6soEEAlry_h6-T49L1gLAVZhNGqi1JRa3-yhsiK908S7JYpMgiVY9GUa1qLvhHdiP4BMyi7jGLl5RpR1jmmFLm7hqU/s1600/DSC05305.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBHLI70jRkHHQ5WN3i9WupU0wwUBlf8IXvJ0vBMLKZbFHZxddG6soEEAlry_h6-T49L1gLAVZhNGqi1JRa3-yhsiK908S7JYpMgiVY9GUa1qLvhHdiP4BMyi7jGLl5RpR1jmmFLm7hqU/s320/DSC05305.JPG" width="320" /></a>and we didn't have the legal rights to send her anywhere, so we had to wait for the children's tribunal to prepare her documents. I don't know all the legal issues we had to deal with, but I made a lot of phone calls to a lot of people who all sent me to someone else. I went with the girl herself to the Tribunal to deliver a paper I wrote explaining her situation. I went to try to gather information from her grandmother. I went to the children's home to take pictures of all the playgrounds and homes to convince her that she wanted to go (she immediately did want to go...I think she was already realizing that the host family wasn't a good permanent option). <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The start of her brief school career</td></tr>
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I waited. I convinced my host family (repeatedly) to keep her for just a few more days and not to send her to her abusive relatives. We all waited. I found people to go with me to the Tribunal to convince the woman working there to hurry up.I found people to help me make phone calls so they could understand when people explained the situation in Spanish. The girl dropped out of school after a month because she was getting into too many fights. I tried (and failed) to convince my host family that violence doesn't teach people not to be violent. We waited, and called, and visited, and waited, and sent off to Haiti for a Haitian birth certificate, and called, and finally, FINALLY, I got a call on Dec 13 from the children's home saying she could come in the next day.<br />
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And fourteenth day of the twelfth month shall henceforth be a day of celebration throughout the land!<br />
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Today started with more drama, because a few days ago she finally ran away from the host family and was living with another (wonderfully gentle) woman (where she behaved like an angel), but my host family was still involved and upset. I hope this isn't the cause of another small-town feud, but some people just end up in conflict with everybody anyway. The girl and I and two social workers loaded into a truck and after 5 months and 20 days in limbo, my smart, beautiful little friend arrived at her new home.</div>
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As we drove up, she recognized the water tower from the pictures I'd taken and got really excited. She had already warmed up to the friendly social worker (who lives there). She immediately befriended the doctor who did her initial checkup, and laughed about how much one of the nuns there resembles one of the nuns here next to the batey. I think she knew what a big transition this was, because she knew that she wasn't going back and I was going to leave and not take her with me, but she remained happy and confident almost the entire time (she even told me to say hi to some of the people back in the batey!). I left her with people we both trust, happy, safe, and surrounded by toys. In Internet lingo, this was an epic win.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's actually there! This photo is one of the greatest rewards I've ever earned.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The only way I could possible imagine it going better would have been if she'd already made friends with some of the other kids, but she didn't have a chance to meet them before I left. There was already some chatter going around as I left ("She's 8? So-and-so was wrong, she said 6. What's her name?"). Every time I've seen her out of the influence of my host family, she's befriended other kids very quickly. I'm sure she won't have any problem among all those children who share similar histories.<br />
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The children's home has an elementary school (K-8), and they're building a high school<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf-taN2tMv0EKsONnD1n9sELwpQjsqsq5Aeg_5g4c1onL_p1IW3aC8Uy-1LKjmO3yXwqJfVI6d8EfaFpcP3IMVLod0_DkkAUzMc1WmigHhAiW1QifGp6FyjflEYLWPO2f3UcCXcqby2Q/s1600/DSC05294.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf-taN2tMv0EKsONnD1n9sELwpQjsqsq5Aeg_5g4c1onL_p1IW3aC8Uy-1LKjmO3yXwqJfVI6d8EfaFpcP3IMVLod0_DkkAUzMc1WmigHhAiW1QifGp6FyjflEYLWPO2f3UcCXcqby2Q/s320/DSC05294.JPG" width="320" /></a> (even though she's never spent much time in school, I started teaching her to read and she's a very bright girl. I think she'll be able to catch up quickly). They have doctors and psychologists. They have a church with a priest and nuns (it's a Catholic center). They're growing plants and caring for animals to produce their own food. The kids can stay until they're adults, and there's even money to send them to college. They've got everything. She went from being an abused and neglected orphan to having more support and better opportunities than any of the kids in my batey. And I'm floating! I think if I jumped high enough, I could fly over to give her a hug!<br />
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Today was a very happy ending to the 8 difficult years that have been her life so far, and a very happy beginning to her hopeful future. I can go in a week or so to visit and see how she's doing, and from time to time after that. And I'll be one of her padrino/sponsers once she enters their program in a few months. But my job is mainly done, and I'm very content with the result! I set out from the beginning to fight for her best interest, and by the grace of God, we got there. If my PC service ends tomorrow, I can hold my head high and call it a success!<br />
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UPDATE (One week later): I still haven't been able to visit her, but I've gotten a few updates, and things are looking good. She came down with some illness, but it was nothing serious and they've got good medical care there. She had a little trouble the first couple of nights, but is now by all accounts very happy. I just heard today that she's already made lots of friends! It sounds like she's adjusting quickly to her new home. What a Christmas present!</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-39497766395969320852011-12-04T16:45:00.001-08:002011-12-04T18:02:56.333-08:00Making American Food for Friends<div style="text-align: justify;">
The past couple of days, I've been sharing American cuisine with friends from my community. Part of my job as a Peace Corps volunteer is to share American culture with locals, so I decided to share grilled cheese sandwiches.</div>
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Actually, I started last night with pasta. There's an orphan girl who has been living with my former host family, and I've been trying to do what I can to help with her, mainly struggling through the Dominican legal system to get her to a decent permanent home, but also occasionally keeping her occupied so she gets in less trouble (keeping her out of trouble entirely would be nice, but I like making goals that are actually possible). Anyway, she and my host nephew came over last night and I made pasta while they watched part of <i>The Lion King</i> in Spanish on my laptop. </div>
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No, scratch that. I made pasta while the boy 'helped' by explaining how to make pasta, and how to open cans, and what all the things in my kitchen are for, and how to stir, and what ingredients we needed to add (when I was still living with them, he noticed my toothbrush and explained how to brush one's teeth. He loves explaining things, and sometimes even knows what he's talking about! He's among the 50% of fourth graders who know how to read, so I guess he's pretty smart). Meanwhile, the girl (who's only about a year younger but hasn't ever been in school, but who learns very quickly and is indisputably smart) searched through my things for 'gifts' she could beg from me with her puppy dog eyes. <i>The Lion King</i> didn't go ignored, however, because a neighbor boy of about 12 years (whom I've never really met and whose name I don't know) walked in the door with us and sat quietly watching the movie. In Dominican culture, you usually don't invite guests, they invite themselves, and you feed whoever happens to be around at mealtime, so I added some tomato soup to the pasta sauce and managed to feed four in my toolshed. Then my host sister and aunt showed up and scolded me for not saving any for them, and after chatting for a bit everyone left. It was a little chaotic, but really didn't take very long. My poor kitten could come out of hiding by the time Simba met Timon and Pumbaa. And the kids had fun and liked the food, so I'll consider it a successful night!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scar singing on the not-so-big screen.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute girl with leftovers. That's my host sister on the left.</td></tr>
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Given the size of my one-room home, though, I preferred tonights strategy. I picked up cheese and bread today while I was in the city for church, and I carried my supplies over to some (other) friends' house. They'd never had grilled cheese sandwiches before (honestly, they're probably too expensive), and they'd never even worked a can opener before, so I looked like quite the master chef as I whipped up some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Once again, the food was spread around to more people than I expected, but it doesn't take much food to fill the bellies of people too poor for grilled cheese. We had soup left over! And then I opened my homemade pickles, and they all got to try some of that. For sour vegetables, pickles are surprisingly popular, although there were a couple of the standard oddballs in the crowd who aren't pickle fans.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sous-chef slicing up the finished product.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our big pot of soup. They kept calling it 'salsa' because I told them to dip the sandwiches in it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some happy customers. I guess the guy on the left is sad that his is gone.</td></tr>
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<tr align="justify"><td class="tr-caption">They wanted me to document their full bellies. I'm also documenting the fact that very few Dominicans believe in zippers.</td></tr>
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Another very successful night. When people think 'Peace Corps,' I'll bet they usually think of digging latrines and building houses, but having dinner with friends is at least as important and at least as 'Peace Corps' as manual labor.</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-24558982778590807762011-12-02T17:53:00.001-08:002011-12-02T18:52:52.822-08:007 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm sorry I've been so pathetic about updating this blog. If you're still around to read this, thank you for sticking with me!</div>
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In order to cover all (ok, some) of the things that have happened in the three months since I last updated, I'm going to have a:<br />
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<a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.conversiondiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/7_quick_takes_sm1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b>— 1 —</b></div>
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As most of you probably know, I had my first trip back to the US from Oct 20 - Nov 7. I was home for both of my parents' birthdays, Halloween, the dedication of my youngest goddaughter, and an early Thanksgiving meal with our neighbors. I kept telling people that the two goals of my trip were to see lots of friends and eat a lot of good food, and I was successful on both fronts! At final weigh-in, I was almost 8 pounds heavier than when I first arrived home (I had lost a lot of weight in the PC, so I needed those 8 pounds back). Some friends were busy or far away, but I got to see most of the people I wanted to. Overall, it was a very good trip. I would have liked to stay longer, but I got my vacation's worth, so I couldn't really complain about coming back. Especially since I got to have another warm homecoming with all the kids here!</div>
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<b>— 2 —</b></div>
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Thanksgiving, being an American holiday, is a time when all the Peace Corps Volunteers get together to celebrate. We went in to Santo Domingo, swam in a fancy rooftop pool, ate traditional Thanksgiving food, had a talent show, spoke English, and caught up with friends we haven't seen in months.</div>
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Before my trip home, my major focus was teaching English and computers to 5th-8th graders in the local school. Computer classes weren't bad, but we only had 8 computers for about 150 kids, so they each got to share a computer for about 20 minutes, and theres only so much anyone can learn in 20 minutes. English classes were worse, because most of the students didn't actually care to learn, so I got the 'substitute teacher treatment' and nobody learned anything. I gave a test the week before I left and caught about 10% of the students cheating. About the same number of students passed. I was thinking of ways to rework the classes by selecting out the students who actually cared to learn, but when I talked to the principal, she just had me drop the classes altogether. Also, she didn't want so many students in the computer lab, because she didn't want anything to happen to the computers, so those classes were dropped too.</div>
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I was perfectly happy to lose English and computer classes, because that left me free to focus on what I really enjoy: children's literacy! I used to go in to 3rd grade once a week, but now I have time to visit 2nd and 4th grade as well. I sit in the back with some reading books and the teacher sends students over one by one. We read a few pages together, and that's the only one-on-one work many of these kids get. They love it (and fight over whose turn it is), and I've seen real improvement. Most of them won't ever use English, and those who have access to computers mainly surf facebook, but reading is a valuable lifetime skill. And I'm nice when I'm working one-on-one, but I had to get mean when I was dealing with mobs of students cheating right under my nose.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nNQWL95FyDzWPeK8hIbNGXJhHey0_a23Schca_X44k1Egd4oJ5sFir17b_oAFATU-Jz-NNBnfIqPkC7XB7LW6NeXfGUp3ZJjgBoOEc28NwdqRPPcNuqzeg7ooayu7IOknxNVtMbwR2g/s1600/DSC07804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nNQWL95FyDzWPeK8hIbNGXJhHey0_a23Schca_X44k1Egd4oJ5sFir17b_oAFATU-Jz-NNBnfIqPkC7XB7LW6NeXfGUp3ZJjgBoOEc28NwdqRPPcNuqzeg7ooayu7IOknxNVtMbwR2g/s320/DSC07804.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b></b>As of yesterday, I have a kitten! His name is Jerónimo, which is the Spanish variation of Jerome. Saint Jerome was a contemporary of Saint Augustine, so Jerónimo and Agustín go well together! He's tiny, and I have to wonder if he was ready to leave his mother, who lives with my former host family. They've been saying for about a week that he was weaned and ready, but he spent a lot of time hiding and yowling. Recently, though, they've changed from lonely yowls to demanding yowls, even after I give him chicken and salami to complement his cat food (most cats here get fed rice, I hope he knows how luck he is). Also, he's come out of hiding and started getting into trouble, so he seems to be growing up just fine. As soon as he gets a bit bigger, he's going to take charge of Homeshed Security and secure our borders from unwelcome rodents and arachnids. He's got the claws for it...take it from one who picked him up before he was ready.</div>
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It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, despite the warm weather and the fact that almost nobody here has ever even seen snow. There aren't many evergreen trees around, but some of the families get small fake trees, and lots of people put up lights. I'm happy to learn that most Dominican Christmas songs are just the classic English Christmas songs translated into Spanish. So there are glowing Christmas lights and familiar carols playing, and it's just enough to put me in the holiday mood.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxaLvTdVGCMVLQPQwergquXUe5nNA6sCvz3ERwaIhw_OAYXFhcmvyDVbZqMv52dUR3LdUlb2tyrm_ebTsChqEofWe8WYRz1CsSS59_g0hIQBER2EkNdQiSNUBXagHWoHK5__7FqZWsak/s1600/DSC07389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxaLvTdVGCMVLQPQwergquXUe5nNA6sCvz3ERwaIhw_OAYXFhcmvyDVbZqMv52dUR3LdUlb2tyrm_ebTsChqEofWe8WYRz1CsSS59_g0hIQBER2EkNdQiSNUBXagHWoHK5__7FqZWsak/s320/DSC07389.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b></b>I've learned how to make pickles. They're expensive here, and one of the PC doctors is from Bulgaria, and she told me the traditional Bulgarian method for making pickles. It's surprisingly easy, provides me with tasty veggies, and is a lot cheaper than buying them in the store. Now the Dominicans are getting interested, so I guess pickles will be one part of international culture that I share with my batey.</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-68879172738800003312011-09-19T21:21:00.000-07:002011-09-19T21:22:11.945-07:00Home sweet home!<div style="text-align: justify;">
This week I finally moved into my own place. Living with a host family has its advantages, but it also has plenty of downsides, and most volunteers move out after 3-4 months. In my batey, there are very few available homes, but a friend managed to find me a place: their neighbor's toolshed! No, seriously, he was using it to hold his tools, but it's nicer than your average toolshed. He cleaned it up, painted it, put in a new door, and here I am. It's about 12x16 feet with two doors and two windows, and it's connected to his house. He ran me a line from his inverter, so when the power goes out I still have a working lightbulb (which is plenty to light up my single room.</div>
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I build a table, a bed, and a shelf a out of cinder blocks and boards, and bought a table from a former volunteer, and that's enough to give me a kitchen, closet, sleeping area, and enough storage space (although I need to get around to organizing...I'm still in a just-recently-moved mess).</div>
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It's small, but it's a lot bigger than where I was living before, and I have more freedom. And after months of rice and beans, I'm happy to be cooking for myself. After some bean burritos, grilled cheese, scrambled eggs, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and my beloved oatmeal for breakfast every day, friends are already commenting that I look fatter (that's a compliment here in the DR).</div>
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The major downside is that there's no bathroom. They have a latrine, but the walls and roof blew down, so it's 'open-air' and not available for use. Until that gets repaired, I have to find other facilities, like the school where I work, the church across the street, or inside my landlord's house when they're around. I have a tub inside where I bathe, and that works for me. </div>
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Overall, I'm pretty happy in my converted toolshed. I've never needed a large or fancy home, and I can do without most creature comforts (that's why the Peace Corps was a good match), and my relationship with my host family wasn't great. My landlord and his wife are wonderful, and already feel more like family than my host family did. She brings me lunch, fresh bread, or ripe bananas, none of which is necessary, but it fits with Latin American hospitality.</div>
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Speaking of hospitality, I need to start entertaining, but my place is small, I need to practice my cooking, and I just moved in, so I haven't had many guests so far, except a few who came uninvited. First there was a large frog, then a huge moth, and finally a gigantic tarantula. Killing them seemed to go against the PC ethos, so I shooed them all out alive, but if that tarantula comes back he probably won't be as lucky the second time. The thing was enormous.</div>
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Some pictures. Pardon the mess; but given that I'm a bachelor living in a toolshed, it's really not that bad!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvIK81OW-Itp1sePUFk8xhID-zHfGh62YzJoMwjf6r4JY9bb8HRQVNUGmd3gVFcyL6jVfbIC4lZ21CJoDRLGx9saoCDwpZ37g2jZEcpOlG89BRdFIXXnn2-HYpNopW0H_XJLkix6BN5Dk/s1600/DSC05562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvIK81OW-Itp1sePUFk8xhID-zHfGh62YzJoMwjf6r4JY9bb8HRQVNUGmd3gVFcyL6jVfbIC4lZ21CJoDRLGx9saoCDwpZ37g2jZEcpOlG89BRdFIXXnn2-HYpNopW0H_XJLkix6BN5Dk/s1600/DSC05562.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before moving anything in, setting up my table. I'm standing in the front door.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGSkFSVUDSl7_PtHXjAtYSiGy1swp56FrDipiFk5aiJGvg8rGbiQemBLdP_snzM0KVC5sK8q-XOMSlEO4BTEjlthc78c8Fj5wE8qwfz3RO1MdNxREm2UltyoT2vSZIYZbhae1kp4kz3Y/s1600/DSC05563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGSkFSVUDSl7_PtHXjAtYSiGy1swp56FrDipiFk5aiJGvg8rGbiQemBLdP_snzM0KVC5sK8q-XOMSlEO4BTEjlthc78c8Fj5wE8qwfz3RO1MdNxREm2UltyoT2vSZIYZbhae1kp4kz3Y/s1600/DSC05563.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the opposite corner (my closet). The door on the left goes outside, and the door on the right goes into the other part of the toolshed (still used for tools), and then outside to the backyard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtruCMrDHFUV-jbERBs736T1Kc8Lr55hNjY8qJ47lUUxaI4tBN0AZV9LT5r8BmA85aQazhTm_OThiXgiQLe6EPVH9R7r2_MVAek8x553IHwA6MbSmhM0hbDzik89Yo3z7kwItVeDSlqJ8/s1600/DSC05565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtruCMrDHFUV-jbERBs736T1Kc8Lr55hNjY8qJ47lUUxaI4tBN0AZV9LT5r8BmA85aQazhTm_OThiXgiQLe6EPVH9R7r2_MVAek8x553IHwA6MbSmhM0hbDzik89Yo3z7kwItVeDSlqJ8/s1600/DSC05565.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most of the roofs in town are zinc. Since this picture, I added a tarp to avoid leaks and try to shield some of the sun.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirP3jT-7KqVAQ2v8HZBQLvasQAx1fg1RzPZQLbhMjyUBlcHXksCJnGKoxFwTPckUod5aCgy6QZ8fnHO-Smq_aaEG1Ks3YF_ByZ54VTkBvL4QKkScBLSshjS7JHXlRwxnyHukTy1Slj9JE/s1600/DSC05599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirP3jT-7KqVAQ2v8HZBQLvasQAx1fg1RzPZQLbhMjyUBlcHXksCJnGKoxFwTPckUod5aCgy6QZ8fnHO-Smq_aaEG1Ks3YF_ByZ54VTkBvL4QKkScBLSshjS7JHXlRwxnyHukTy1Slj9JE/s1600/DSC05599.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first guest. Dominicans are scared of frogs.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKDIPqOhSKsgpL_geJmQxCSTt-y4eMqoXl37RuN4Opw90rfcdTv5a-0d2iz1r7NrApiEw26npJi8_Ias2gtOZRRbbvYGUYVpsfN6na4bbeKmIZAR9-O9e5DFnbfTYY32DN_C0-uFjdEQ/s1600/DSC05600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKDIPqOhSKsgpL_geJmQxCSTt-y4eMqoXl37RuN4Opw90rfcdTv5a-0d2iz1r7NrApiEw26npJi8_Ias2gtOZRRbbvYGUYVpsfN6na4bbeKmIZAR9-O9e5DFnbfTYY32DN_C0-uFjdEQ/s320/DSC05600.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't think they're very scary, so I put my foot in the shot for scale.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcejNgKUwGckOoVEwlGqcGCvSuYcWkS09k-2HlVq_rcAMWFxGnz23dWfy9J33ui4z2EdNx74pWq0iJjZ6Pd-DgwarbihNIYpj4Ijiw3wuWLWH9HkmaCzC4gz5TC3VJzr6kkSulkIa5jw/s1600/DSC05602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcejNgKUwGckOoVEwlGqcGCvSuYcWkS09k-2HlVq_rcAMWFxGnz23dWfy9J33ui4z2EdNx74pWq0iJjZ6Pd-DgwarbihNIYpj4Ijiw3wuWLWH9HkmaCzC4gz5TC3VJzr6kkSulkIa5jw/s320/DSC05602.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I haven't done much to make my place feel 'homey,' but I did get these dishtowels, which reminded me of a little girl I know who loves cows.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jQPJPr-Wxg2hUlOh82XfwNW_eNR_KpmHHC3kzwCpU6V1tVnK366VXuyIzd76x53GVMDLA4HnJvxZiNAmPE9YIjgWzwu-IZq5kYY77ZsURte-InQ-S3bWc36wcfs65ajUi1dBfJXAbLc/s1600/DSC05603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jQPJPr-Wxg2hUlOh82XfwNW_eNR_KpmHHC3kzwCpU6V1tVnK366VXuyIzd76x53GVMDLA4HnJvxZiNAmPE9YIjgWzwu-IZq5kYY77ZsURte-InQ-S3bWc36wcfs65ajUi1dBfJXAbLc/s320/DSC05603.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My second guest.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsdAJNuYjWmiu7ql7PstqgY8vvoyYvA2xaCTCoAockhMirLf7qU901hCHOdBJUiSq5oEC7OLdUkxWZT5DbjIPI40SLZYm7_wKcFuLDTeYNxwQj1ALkLPUCeLswX2TPe70Qp1-RRpqNnM/s1600/DSC05606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsdAJNuYjWmiu7ql7PstqgY8vvoyYvA2xaCTCoAockhMirLf7qU901hCHOdBJUiSq5oEC7OLdUkxWZT5DbjIPI40SLZYm7_wKcFuLDTeYNxwQj1ALkLPUCeLswX2TPe70Qp1-RRpqNnM/s1600/DSC05606.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I shooed him outside three different times, and he kept finding his way back in. I finally caught him in a box and didn't let him out until I turned off the lights and went to bed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAC211LuScxufcqbzIuYzJHAXID5ZPVdIRyCJvX9V5467-NOeLwSyX5-M3f4jG5rfwO8GqDnuvuMcCT3Q9UjE88WIFr37JHHHh8vZBxl56w_1ADpHVQNuWpBvEG7qmxOzQ3URaZ1YFreQ/s1600/DSC05607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAC211LuScxufcqbzIuYzJHAXID5ZPVdIRyCJvX9V5467-NOeLwSyX5-M3f4jG5rfwO8GqDnuvuMcCT3Q9UjE88WIFr37JHHHh8vZBxl56w_1ADpHVQNuWpBvEG7qmxOzQ3URaZ1YFreQ/s320/DSC05607.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My kitchen: gas stove, bottled water, a cooler, and a bowl of soapy water. What more do you need?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEQ3GgmDTe-3uY3fc3AdVzoqHBzO2Wi0NimDYWdsbssMSpIFWyztMVMocLiU_w8dsw4ZkHX3wekF0T_Gb6noeviVukKb4gJTALknhGci_ta-KBLpuJMTGlJg_LLWzL5vm5nDL208kk_k/s1600/DSC05609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEQ3GgmDTe-3uY3fc3AdVzoqHBzO2Wi0NimDYWdsbssMSpIFWyztMVMocLiU_w8dsw4ZkHX3wekF0T_Gb6noeviVukKb4gJTALknhGci_ta-KBLpuJMTGlJg_LLWzL5vm5nDL208kk_k/s320/DSC05609.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New view from the front door. The kitchen is to the right.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsK4FZ-J9sFnpISMlYf23ajQcBWX6vKmJEh0W5B8k8MgoxnOO4IaeX7K-C0aweQnH8Yyh6td2AZsxRTXPXUWh71vKrtrP5P5yWCsb2-FUdxoexFedkNWfFaQnJYD45qDd_1kXcfhGAqU/s1600/DSC05610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsK4FZ-J9sFnpISMlYf23ajQcBWX6vKmJEh0W5B8k8MgoxnOO4IaeX7K-C0aweQnH8Yyh6td2AZsxRTXPXUWh71vKrtrP5P5yWCsb2-FUdxoexFedkNWfFaQnJYD45qDd_1kXcfhGAqU/s1600/DSC05610.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bed. Netalie and I have now lived in four different homes together.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9lVpFuI05JbAyhYvy04C6PxrWFluvLOcRLuWfK-SF_JOgJuke8NThLqojg0e4jnHbyRVCX7IXPFYhW_zCXrE6G9io81pNxVOsq12gD4haKWnvN9P2mhYu8350auq-KMQzxit4JEBPv8/s1600/DSC05617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9lVpFuI05JbAyhYvy04C6PxrWFluvLOcRLuWfK-SF_JOgJuke8NThLqojg0e4jnHbyRVCX7IXPFYhW_zCXrE6G9io81pNxVOsq12gD4haKWnvN9P2mhYu8350auq-KMQzxit4JEBPv8/s320/DSC05617.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My third guest. I was literally sitting at my computer editing the pictures of the frog and the moth when this guy came in. God has a funny sense of humor.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqg0CeUJVeebO657fisancfGi2Ox5Ld9DrVsqfK6ytqxfvDzr-sgxALW1pTZbSroEorITegNlp0QJhMsITvcBNZoF-Zeek6vqo3Gfpd-DZ57YrJ7cNLUjIucJLQ3gfLWweJlqF48_jUEo/s1600/DSC05616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqg0CeUJVeebO657fisancfGi2Ox5Ld9DrVsqfK6ytqxfvDzr-sgxALW1pTZbSroEorITegNlp0QJhMsITvcBNZoF-Zeek6vqo3Gfpd-DZ57YrJ7cNLUjIucJLQ3gfLWweJlqF48_jUEo/s1600/DSC05616.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I put a can opener in the shot for scale, because I, um, didn't feel like using my foot. He's the biggest tarantula I've seen in the country, and I think that makes him the biggest spider I've ever seen in person. Have I mentioned how much I love my mosquito net?</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx2u2-BxKvvf6PgMimPM_jnyBLoO4w6s0omcghRGzODXIqbt_KXt_peH2-F5X3f6f8-2GPg16gJcfAyu_8ZIQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fortunately, he didn't move very fast, and when I started taking pictures he decided to find a more peaceful place to sleep and creeped his way out. Actually, he was just going to wait in the corner, but a long broom and I encouraged the rest of the way out.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />Actually, I have had other guests: when I moved the table in, it came with a flock of six children who helped me organize and sweep and eat my chocolate. Actually, they managed the chocolate by themselves, but that's ok. Apparently, most of the town avoids my (former) host family, so people are more comfortable coming to visit me now that I'm not with them.</div>
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There it is! Home sweet home.</div>
<span id="goog_27667878"></span><span id="goog_27667879"></span>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-67301768494995264312011-09-12T19:34:00.000-07:002011-09-12T19:34:36.678-07:00Singing in the scattered showers<div style="text-align: justify;">In honor of the latest storm that's passing through, and of the rainy season in general, here's a quick post to present:</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Four Reasons It's Better to Shower in the Rain</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-size: small;">Conserve Water. Around here, the water isn't treated, </span>it can give you nasty diseases, and it's free, so it's not exactly precious. However, saving water is a good habit to get in, and it would be embarrassing if your bucket ran out of water halfway through bathing, so rainwater is a great way use less of the greenish stuff from the bucket.</li>
<li>More Privacy. My shower has a window at about head level, and there's an excellent view of our front gate. Even if they can only see my head, there's something awkward about making eye contact with someone while I'm bathing. Fortunately, nobody goes out in the rain, so rain showers are pleasantly solitary experiences.</li>
<li>Cooler Weather. Most of the time, it's really uncomfortably hot down here. And most of the time, I'm sweating. Like, almost constantly. It's frustrating to dry off from a bath and immediately start sweating again, but the rain brings cooler weather and that means I feel clean for longer!</li>
<li>The Real Shower Feel. It may be a bit chilly, and it may be open-air, but if you close your eyes, you can almost convince yourself that you're enjoying the luxury of a cold shower!</li>
</ol>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-38273651856484710592011-08-18T18:25:00.000-07:002011-08-18T18:25:27.144-07:003 Month IST (In Service Training)<div style="text-align: justify;">Last week I was in the capital with the rest of the education volunteers who were in training with me. It was a lot of fun seeing everybody, hearing about their sites, speaking English, and eating something besides rice and beans. We stayed at a Jesuit retreat center, which was beautiful and peaceful and had real toilets and showers (although no hot water, not that you want it during Dominican summers). It felt like quite a luxury!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> The occasion was our 3 month In Service Training, which wasn't just for us to get more training, but also for us to present our <a href="http://saintdominicsrepublic.blogspot.com/2011/07/community-diagnostic.html">community diagnostic</a>. My presentation was well received, largely because I kept it under the 12-minute limit and included plenty of pictures of cute kids! Honestly, though, it wasn't a high-pressure presentation, because nobody had to approve anything or give me a grade; it was really just to prove I was making progress in my community.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some of the interesting things I learned about my community in the diagnostic were:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><ul style="text-align: justify;"><li>The #1 cited problem in the batey is the muddy street, which <a href="http://saintdominicsrepublic.blogspot.com/2011/06/broadband.html">is already being repaired</a>! (Progress is slow, but it is moving along.) </li>
<li>The #2 problem is the lack of employment, which is truly the bigger issue. There was some interest expressed in a Peace Corps microenterprise club/class, so I'm going to find the documentation for that and hopefully help some people start there own small businesses.</li>
<li>The #1 reported benefit of our community is the '<i>tranquilidad</i>' (tranquility). With so many people up in arms about crime rates and delinquency, it's nice to know that our batey is relatively safe.</li>
<li>70% are legally documented, and most of the remaining 30% are already in the process of getting their papers. (Without documents, they lose a lot of rights, such as schooling for kids and the use of public transportation.)</li>
<li>Only about 21% of the batey speaks Haitian Creole. Bateys are associated with Haitians, but this appears to be a very 'Dominican' batey.</li>
<li>Everybody and their brother wants to learn English and computers (but nobody actually wants to show up for class...).</li>
</ul><div style="text-align: justify;">None of my plans really changed after my diagnostic; I've known from the beginning that I would be teaching English and computers, and that's still going to be my main focus. I also have plans for the small business club, helping kids with reading and math, and trying to teach effective parenting strategies (i.e. not beating your kids again when they didn't learn from the first beating).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite having to sit through more presentations and classes (I thought I'd left college and the corporate world), I had a lot of fun at the IST, and it returning to the batey was a little disappointing. The average Peace Corps volunteer is a lot more...um...peaceful than the average bateyano. Although the IST suffered from a severe lack of cute kids!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyqi6dCtcSln6pc-rp8zLmeOO7OD-2NoW04OrhSXpxHpYOrfSiVzJuK2Iu_L2G-lKui65jX9q3uEhTnTHXiIZDFLH_e9H9pQmodxOs-WCb2e0V5VjhxIQjHWVUZf8mBK5tmJMvXrrZPk/s1600/DSC02981-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyqi6dCtcSln6pc-rp8zLmeOO7OD-2NoW04OrhSXpxHpYOrfSiVzJuK2Iu_L2G-lKui65jX9q3uEhTnTHXiIZDFLH_e9H9pQmodxOs-WCb2e0V5VjhxIQjHWVUZf8mBK5tmJMvXrrZPk/s320/DSC02981-2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-42067529854188991192011-07-30T21:05:00.000-07:002011-07-30T21:05:17.626-07:00My Birthday!<div style="text-align: justify;">Today was my first birthday in the DR. I took a break from my diagnostic and <br />
from teaching, which was partially my choice and partially necessitated by crazy amounts of rain we had: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiisn3tnL6qoMz2LqhXDd4EBNdSQX1PlJhu5IOtrfCdOr61G8-eXGuQv62VXn69IEtqufsg1p54ZjPPqdyziNybgWmgCzt_emg_Z5V13hab5gcTISz-OEdLnJSypA7eXUTYLpKdnTW-FvI/s1600/DSC04725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiisn3tnL6qoMz2LqhXDd4EBNdSQX1PlJhu5IOtrfCdOr61G8-eXGuQv62VXn69IEtqufsg1p54ZjPPqdyziNybgWmgCzt_emg_Z5V13hab5gcTISz-OEdLnJSypA7eXUTYLpKdnTW-FvI/s320/DSC04725.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DQQGHkL6J5IX4VMzw4Oul1b_ylHA_ynij39g6mIL17vcAa2HAGNtCvMFxWk-dP_yga0W6oX2iUCl6bb7OFyxWPQ05-ut058Nwzt7O8QQUJ7D7vwjlFZfDgI8hlRpPsEYhhubv3PWK8w/s1600/DSC04727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3DQQGHkL6J5IX4VMzw4Oul1b_ylHA_ynij39g6mIL17vcAa2HAGNtCvMFxWk-dP_yga0W6oX2iUCl6bb7OFyxWPQ05-ut058Nwzt7O8QQUJ7D7vwjlFZfDgI8hlRpPsEYhhubv3PWK8w/s320/DSC04727.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The <strike>path</strike> river near our house</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_EWWFCA4IRc8m6ZNuZSkMH_hkSjTvCRk3nMXVCX6MhqaJCRYS7LugAdrkP84I-qdJ73Ghdl1XEk5iecTpnyMCSW4h_BhsYoJ86polLpmo-bd-KKzMUk2_ilnvYiE40XaOWw5WQM-wsU/s1600/DSC04729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_EWWFCA4IRc8m6ZNuZSkMH_hkSjTvCRk3nMXVCX6MhqaJCRYS7LugAdrkP84I-qdJ73Ghdl1XEk5iecTpnyMCSW4h_BhsYoJ86polLpmo-bd-KKzMUk2_ilnvYiE40XaOWw5WQM-wsU/s320/DSC04729.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I never wore crocs in the US, but I couldn't manage without them here!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VRwujuz0BzL-b7tKD5BKWkL-pbe6blNUZpeqHLRiDyL_oXUrNwwQqaJ2HY7hwaxdTdvLOOxw4-GeFxk4Qv4csaoNeuMJjW68aPtVXTSbFlL_c6ed3axwzLc3klIxzhDTiKYmZPVmlmg/s1600/DSC04731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VRwujuz0BzL-b7tKD5BKWkL-pbe6blNUZpeqHLRiDyL_oXUrNwwQqaJ2HY7hwaxdTdvLOOxw4-GeFxk4Qv4csaoNeuMJjW68aPtVXTSbFlL_c6ed3axwzLc3klIxzhDTiKYmZPVmlmg/s320/DSC04731.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our yard</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorZIwOkUPTXWnb-Hz-98C6u-4tUgGfh4cFHEqmzCisJ3ct-MTeIfiCCHqwMZevyfOAtt-VtWS6tgVTMkoIo3JrQXH-ivmUhMx86EDQxas9gTLGyxgdrGiQM1UgjOd2JnONbdgj9588v4/s1600/DSC04735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorZIwOkUPTXWnb-Hz-98C6u-4tUgGfh4cFHEqmzCisJ3ct-MTeIfiCCHqwMZevyfOAtt-VtWS6tgVTMkoIo3JrQXH-ivmUhMx86EDQxas9gTLGyxgdrGiQM1UgjOd2JnONbdgj9588v4/s320/DSC04735.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My host sister sweeping water to get it moving out of our yard (and house).</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKqNV2VDVYjp_XhDpGT6tIdKULE8A88TbPyd0P-qnMY9ZaLncybOcwPRVoeBVIy0rXtWPiK7Mu8EXp2VgaW1FiFaN1pI3KfXWhEVbRfBD3zH0P457aAwyBAvRDG7gLeeWCSp_rCfpsCY/s1600/DSC04732.JPG"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKqNV2VDVYjp_XhDpGT6tIdKULE8A88TbPyd0P-qnMY9ZaLncybOcwPRVoeBVIy0rXtWPiK7Mu8EXp2VgaW1FiFaN1pI3KfXWhEVbRfBD3zH0P457aAwyBAvRDG7gLeeWCSp_rCfpsCY/s320/DSC04732.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nrcdLYgn7ezy-EbBBd68YFQfljEMcTl4ORTOQyJdVyNkE9NpjuYFyO5vsiEXeZfW3nLq2S5KnC64kT9KaIsEiwqsBzUpZKaT7iKE7ss64wUuiQclQYELTvv0dHKYNaqa9_1uki3bdNw/s1600/DSC04754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nrcdLYgn7ezy-EbBBd68YFQfljEMcTl4ORTOQyJdVyNkE9NpjuYFyO5vsiEXeZfW3nLq2S5KnC64kT9KaIsEiwqsBzUpZKaT7iKE7ss64wUuiQclQYELTvv0dHKYNaqa9_1uki3bdNw/s320/DSC04754.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweeping muddy water and feeling very Peace Corps!</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">When the rain and mud let up a bit, I went out to visit some friends. There are a couple of families living right next to each other; I teach some of the kids reading and math, another teenage daughter is learning English, and their mom is teaching me Haitian Creole.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9iX97oZWwI7c9ux0_jmGh14GhcsBU5nC3vZ45NFX6VUzireQ1ffgNSn8eNblOTdUH-ST7l9SibwanMgCqV1V1Habe3WZXMsy2vMX2KekzCR2DO11f6XUJhIE1I7fva8mhSbSx9ZH7RU/s1600/DSC04791.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9iX97oZWwI7c9ux0_jmGh14GhcsBU5nC3vZ45NFX6VUzireQ1ffgNSn8eNblOTdUH-ST7l9SibwanMgCqV1V1Habe3WZXMsy2vMX2KekzCR2DO11f6XUJhIE1I7fva8mhSbSx9ZH7RU/s320/DSC04791.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> The teenager (who avoided being captured in any photos) gets credit for remembering my birthday, and ran out to buy something. Haitians living in a batey don't have a large budget, so I was honored they were spending money on me, and I love what she came up with using only a few cents at the tiny local store:</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNuMnagkErvfqRnBdUr7CoWzqgcoTKI9eQLsAdqljUjLKm34sBbp7LJDm_9RTq-9EZPvdGPkG6Kd0ZW_wCKi6opeYg7olf0fX6G20NJ_0zB0Z7vVGx0F_-KYp1SYi6rXy5GqOLIy1RxA/s1600/DSC04777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNuMnagkErvfqRnBdUr7CoWzqgcoTKI9eQLsAdqljUjLKm34sBbp7LJDm_9RTq-9EZPvdGPkG6Kd0ZW_wCKi6opeYg7olf0fX6G20NJ_0zB0Z7vVGx0F_-KYp1SYi6rXy5GqOLIy1RxA/s320/DSC04777.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheese puffs and candy, with a candle!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsq0uNaczs6e0I5ZPfsEOvYS7pnXh55-oOmXtnoNB3jIY3uKvYB-ojC8KO_A986EZBuYmqcFOK1m4aBAyS8dr1mzaSVNeoAhoxlfb-zdDtS2XummCro_mP-yuSXii3N3Pnzad-vcs4pyk/s1600/DSC04782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsq0uNaczs6e0I5ZPfsEOvYS7pnXh55-oOmXtnoNB3jIY3uKvYB-ojC8KO_A986EZBuYmqcFOK1m4aBAyS8dr1mzaSVNeoAhoxlfb-zdDtS2XummCro_mP-yuSXii3N3Pnzad-vcs4pyk/s320/DSC04782.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proof you don't need a cake to feel loved!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"> They sang "Happy Birthday" in Spanish and English, but the English version was something like "Happy baby yoo yoo!" Then we played some games and they insisted on me taking more and more photos:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TbmCyQwPPqWJI0e9wCzo2NDhJc7HMerKlO9exZ1D6Ln2OUQua3aM5_3a_kA8AMqlbWOUsRXWL9mR74Vl-OxDpviK_kk-ht9yu0ye58NwzQgKFizfCrfE4b3NN7pBxkPXDr-YpjrdgsM/s1600/DSC04796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TbmCyQwPPqWJI0e9wCzo2NDhJc7HMerKlO9exZ1D6Ln2OUQua3aM5_3a_kA8AMqlbWOUsRXWL9mR74Vl-OxDpviK_kk-ht9yu0ye58NwzQgKFizfCrfE4b3NN7pBxkPXDr-YpjrdgsM/s320/DSC04796.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Showing off for the camera with a song from church</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Then I went to another family's house. These people get even more credit, because they saw me coming, hid inside, and then all ran out cheering when I got there! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSulH9Eu6t56O5hMnSHj-52kI4tAeEahbnwthkPzw7ZDtSW33Iy5l6YTNN-bDGhcrOTd7IKkrerxNXhpO0GSJSqEQI5o87ZQO3tBXY-p0gTv9IDs6_tIeX1eXdl6VoxHnlGe4ix5y4KBo/s1600/DSC04797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSulH9Eu6t56O5hMnSHj-52kI4tAeEahbnwthkPzw7ZDtSW33Iy5l6YTNN-bDGhcrOTd7IKkrerxNXhpO0GSJSqEQI5o87ZQO3tBXY-p0gTv9IDs6_tIeX1eXdl6VoxHnlGe4ix5y4KBo/s320/DSC04797.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> Then <a href="http://saintdominicsrepublic.blogspot.com/2011/06/friends-birthday.html">someone</a> commandeered my camera</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraQ9jVhE6qw4dWD4Vb6kV0ehKp-5PdphomPcCTnpcl9SvsmoA-mIS1Slfi6aFDcFRrRs7nW-_E-81q4DEkWVu0pNOjLxCtOXqjOmUPN3QiVccyURDuPjVoR25hnWKCPRQ93fCyU21L5s/s1600/DSC04819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraQ9jVhE6qw4dWD4Vb6kV0ehKp-5PdphomPcCTnpcl9SvsmoA-mIS1Slfi6aFDcFRrRs7nW-_E-81q4DEkWVu0pNOjLxCtOXqjOmUPN3QiVccyURDuPjVoR25hnWKCPRQ93fCyU21L5s/s320/DSC04819.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">and proceeded, as she always does, to take a bunch of photos of everyone and everything:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_A6ibmRQo9N7aP4BAH_AefcskzCjjvGgvBy7ydH7jvliLALkFQBO5_B8u6pfiAEoyAEi3rxzY8j3X7l9HLnG4JC0XG8Lz4J78eC_y0ASoxRecqvhKcEjLGn4pA8jzJDkhh4D1dykwu0/s1600/DSC04824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_A6ibmRQo9N7aP4BAH_AefcskzCjjvGgvBy7ydH7jvliLALkFQBO5_B8u6pfiAEoyAEi3rxzY8j3X7l9HLnG4JC0XG8Lz4J78eC_y0ASoxRecqvhKcEjLGn4pA8jzJDkhh4D1dykwu0/s320/DSC04824.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom in the kitchen</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstHlP2iNK257S0pd2-d_KMohRhe4Ejp7Y1c1sy68R2VKl-FcZtzrx4pi-8a50tMoAqCP9WIgLMKGBI6_idktLPw0nSmGDUaz15GLKn21qDRLpnxEfwAxXlepJvE9sA74beUyIETPEJ5Q/s1600/DSC04828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstHlP2iNK257S0pd2-d_KMohRhe4Ejp7Y1c1sy68R2VKl-FcZtzrx4pi-8a50tMoAqCP9WIgLMKGBI6_idktLPw0nSmGDUaz15GLKn21qDRLpnxEfwAxXlepJvE9sA74beUyIETPEJ5Q/s320/DSC04828.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJcqoAfGyI31CPfVIu74NiYKtpoZrzFZo2lmxHIG8sbV-9a6eVrZ2EB5kHhh4oO7kJeQ5OdqlC6tu6mCa8UtJJ99BvS4GiyDi_HZ85M724527ZCqYo_QdWqnUcJrzdmPukMrIIQqknqI/s1600/DSC04837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJcqoAfGyI31CPfVIu74NiYKtpoZrzFZo2lmxHIG8sbV-9a6eVrZ2EB5kHhh4oO7kJeQ5OdqlC6tu6mCa8UtJJ99BvS4GiyDi_HZ85M724527ZCqYo_QdWqnUcJrzdmPukMrIIQqknqI/s320/DSC04837.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad's motorcycle (and another <a href="http://saintdominicsrepublic.blogspot.com/2011/07/volunteer-by-any-other-name.html">sister</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6LNxBlG8cERFr3elOIihCN7HMplBE9R88O2hqo9Z4K_po25rdka5TLeRC0DqFEAWbEc5yxAJ4QyYHVldjDpII7C6BqCHqHxgJe10BoYwjxCNjUR3XaVWCHnd7VDFrdul-8sK2bGQOiE/s1600/DSC04854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6LNxBlG8cERFr3elOIihCN7HMplBE9R88O2hqo9Z4K_po25rdka5TLeRC0DqFEAWbEc5yxAJ4QyYHVldjDpII7C6BqCHqHxgJe10BoYwjxCNjUR3XaVWCHnd7VDFrdul-8sK2bGQOiE/s320/DSC04854.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousin</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">I decided not to include all the pictures of the ceiling, floor, rocks, dark corners, the same people over and over, and blurry shots of who-knows-what.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Meanwhile, that mom in the kitchen was cooking sugared cherries:</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwErMYqg8CLH7Awk55cx-rTtyoggNcNd8QNAdg83t9uxzyttA2m5dQY6dO4JQpMjg6U1iQGlLyYcJLiO5jbGOdZGHa4V9CY78bEW1UOeSUuehcpTFlmxwNRyUTTnd7bY3ynrxYtKlMWs/s1600/DSC04867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwErMYqg8CLH7Awk55cx-rTtyoggNcNd8QNAdg83t9uxzyttA2m5dQY6dO4JQpMjg6U1iQGlLyYcJLiO5jbGOdZGHa4V9CY78bEW1UOeSUuehcpTFlmxwNRyUTTnd7bY3ynrxYtKlMWs/s320/DSC04867.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
So they gave me a cup of that: <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fxggaacfPOm8pq-ZmQL-wTqC16HYFdm-4DwQLUCkRcWRy6fQ6w8AGxtKQVS7wBZ5zBLn_GuMiJnz9KgaVgQreKnG3Ql8wA2n3fFaCECzIOVmfD_zoygYY2s6gsvvIjuYdI2NM1UVvmc/s1600/DSC04868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fxggaacfPOm8pq-ZmQL-wTqC16HYFdm-4DwQLUCkRcWRy6fQ6w8AGxtKQVS7wBZ5zBLn_GuMiJnz9KgaVgQreKnG3Ql8wA2n3fFaCECzIOVmfD_zoygYY2s6gsvvIjuYdI2NM1UVvmc/s320/DSC04868.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've had this several times here in the DR. It's similar to the filling in cherry pie, but a bit more sour...it's pretty good!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2khaNRcwIf5coi0tRDvtu3Cr-TJgFn8648gmsoz7U-FJq0zUFmHAcAUzdYyoFLgRfxM0C8KOLLsewbQD4d9eN5ETFHrbh-s-0CMa79FZwLHXJPMsfLXxn5UbGtn2SrWdgD_4NsTlIQ6g/s1600/DSC04899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2khaNRcwIf5coi0tRDvtu3Cr-TJgFn8648gmsoz7U-FJq0zUFmHAcAUzdYyoFLgRfxM0C8KOLLsewbQD4d9eN5ETFHrbh-s-0CMa79FZwLHXJPMsfLXxn5UbGtn2SrWdgD_4NsTlIQ6g/s320/DSC04899.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Someone' was pouting because her extra-long turn with the camera was over.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Overall, I'd call it a good day!<br />
<br />
<div class="fbJewel " id="fbNotificationsJewel"><a class="jewelButton" data-target="fbNotificationsFlyout" href="" name="notifications" rel="toggle"><span class="jewelCount" id="notificationsCountWrapper"><span id="notificationsCountValue"></span></span></a></div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-68865039965366054162011-07-27T15:00:00.000-07:002011-07-27T15:00:53.702-07:00Community Diagnostic<div style="text-align: justify;">I've been busy with several things recently, but the main task has been my Community Diagnostic. I'm supposed to visit at least 100 houses in the community to meet people, introduce myself, and learn about the batey and what the people here need. As of today, I've visited 81 houses, so I'm making good progress and should finish on time to present during our reunion August 9-12.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's been a good experience so far, and I can see why the Peace Corps requires it: I've met a lot of wonderful people whom I would have never noticed otherwise. It's easy to walk past a house every day and never stop to think about the people living there, but not when you have to sit down and ask about their interests and struggles.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Coming up with good questions is one of the hardest parts of the Diagnostic; if they're too personal, some people may get put off and not answer honestly, but if they're too general, you don't learn very much. I've realized that some of my questions aren't very helpful, but others have been really interesting. Here are my 12 questions, translated into English:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li>How many people live in the house?</li>
<li>What do you do in a typical day?</li>
<li>What work opportunities are available to the members of this community?</li>
<li>Do you speak Haitian Creole? (I would like to learn!)</li>
<li>What are some strengths of this batey, or the benefits of living here?</li>
<li>What are the biggest problems in this community?</li>
<li>Are you Christian?</li>
<li>I'm currently fixing up the computers in the school, because they're in English and I need to put them in Spanish. When I finish with that, I hope to give a basic computer class (just teaching how to use a computer) and a class in Microsoft Office (teaching how to create documents). Are you interested in either of those classes?</li>
<li>There are some clubs that Peace Corps volunteers occasionally give. One is for learning even more about computers so that when I leave there can be people to manage the computer lab. Another is for learning about and taking care of the Environment, and and third is for learning how to start and run a small personal business. All these are possibilities if there's enough interest.</li>
<li>I visited the local nuns to ask about the documentation of children, because I know that's a big problem here, and the system in this country is very difficult. Do you have everything taken care of, or are some people still missing birth certificates or other documents?</li>
<li>What forms of discipline are used in this community? When children behave badly, what happens?</li>
<li>What health resources are available in this community?</li>
</ol><div style="text-align: justify;">The Creole question is helpful for connecting with them on a personal level. Most are Dominican, and some even start to get offended to be mistaken for Haitians, but once I talk about wanting to study the language, they open up and share a few words they know or laugh about how they still can't understand the language after being around it their whole life. If they're Haitian, I can tell them in Creole that I'm studying the language, but I can't say very much!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The question about Christianity helps me gauge their response to question 11. Child abuse occurs among Christians and nonchristians, but most of those who join me in opposing it are Christian, and most of those who seem dangerous are not. I've never had any problems personally, but there have been a few houses where question 11 is really uncomfortable, and I'm happy to leave.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Harsh physical discipline has been one of the hardest things for me to deal with here, and I want to do something to address the problem while I'm here. <i>Gracias a Dios </i>I've met many wonderful people in this batey who see the problem and want to help me fix it, and question 11 is what brings them out of the woodwork.</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-12572083541050555632011-07-07T18:31:00.000-07:002011-07-07T21:00:08.656-07:00A volunteer by any other name...<div style="text-align: justify;">Most Dominicans have a very hard time with the name 'Austin,' so partway through training I started introducing myself as Agustín (ah-goo-STEEN), which is the Spanish equivalent. Both names came from Augustus/Augustine, they just evolved in different directions in the respective languages.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the Dominican dialect of Spanish, the 'S' often disappears, and words that end it 'N' sound like 'NG,' so lots of people call me 'ah-goo-TEENG.' Young kids, who always find their own way to pronounce things, have called me 'ah-gwee-stee' or 'ha-woo-teeng.'</div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtl2Y_pPYZyUKnfzhjVdof7L43rK9xpPDW9auFc1C1eNuJU2qR_62kPQ6u4ft549u3NUGk_qNqxy5uKwQpUXrzDAoZcCH0mrAUEtW4B-PQR1oFi7uNeHgYmmSezihhldZcHzN7a-NFG0I/s1600/DSC03196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtl2Y_pPYZyUKnfzhjVdof7L43rK9xpPDW9auFc1C1eNuJU2qR_62kPQ6u4ft549u3NUGk_qNqxy5uKwQpUXrzDAoZcCH0mrAUEtW4B-PQR1oFi7uNeHgYmmSezihhldZcHzN7a-NFG0I/s320/DSC03196.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">And this glorious two-year-old just cheers TWEEEEN!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwtzMC1eAyPDm3gswFXmrrgWNvCRtXbWKgYYOrHxqCdVfiWT9RFFbP-7Y76Kxm3-LEExtex8N_GnNvh-Gb58wnPMWxh1op7S0dovxKxY4X-fy1pVLij8Wv5FGAaADJ7SGQaHX72lEe0o/s1600/DSC03953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwtzMC1eAyPDm3gswFXmrrgWNvCRtXbWKgYYOrHxqCdVfiWT9RFFbP-7Y76Kxm3-LEExtex8N_GnNvh-Gb58wnPMWxh1op7S0dovxKxY4X-fy1pVLij8Wv5FGAaADJ7SGQaHX72lEe0o/s320/DSC03953.JPG" width="240" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">'Tween' has caught on, and most of her family calls me that now. It may be my favorite nickname ever! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy13-6ynYIQcOtn17KVHGA7sn1xjHOw1BoxYL0uCD2kiJ46h5-Ubj7HjrnAWcIQ5bQGhybKebbA1f1kCeX-BRzLO81x2y6wUqyXiPb25RaoZmf88F25x0Tty_f-pRxQHLlYMBu_5WAQf4/s1600/DSC02874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy13-6ynYIQcOtn17KVHGA7sn1xjHOw1BoxYL0uCD2kiJ46h5-Ubj7HjrnAWcIQ5bQGhybKebbA1f1kCeX-BRzLO81x2y6wUqyXiPb25RaoZmf88F25x0Tty_f-pRxQHLlYMBu_5WAQf4/s320/DSC02874.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yeah, I'm awesome."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-83900018637824078632011-07-04T16:50:00.000-07:002011-07-04T16:50:37.709-07:00Happy Fourth!<div style="text-align: justify;">Every year, most of the PC volunteers get together to celebrate this American holiday with people who actually are aware it's a holiday. I stayed in my batey, partly to stay with my projects and friends here, partly to save money, and partly because I'm just an introverted weirdo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My day has been less than cheerful...I woke up to the news that my host cousin, a 3rd grader whom I'd helped practice reading, died early this morning. First reports blamed cholera, but it turns out that wasn't the case. Even though she died of dehydration, her only symptom was a pain in her stomach that got worse all night, and she died on the way to the hospital. They buried her today, and, true to the mood, it rained all day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Eerily, a few days ago, I had a strange pain in my stomach, and I urinated so much that night that I actually worried my body wasn't processing water. It's probably just a coincidence, but thanks anyway to everybody back home who's praying for my health and safety. Also, thanks to everyone who saw my facebook status and prayed for the girl and her family.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Her teenage sister was also taken to the hospital, but appears to be making a recovery. Since it's not cholera, they're encouraging the family to bring her home.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, just a friendly holiday reminder that life is short and fragile!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Not wanting the day to pass by with nothing but gloom, I visited the family of some friends who are not related to the deceased girl, and passed out apple slices. Sixteen of us shared 4 apples (costing about $1 total), and the 5-year-old who had her birthday last month led the chorus in singing <i>feliz cumpleaños</i> to our country!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tomorrow is my host nephew's birthday, so I can pass out the rest of my apples then and spread some more happy thoughts for America around the batey. I'm such a good government employee!</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120500106586940162.post-91727103613839532342011-06-29T16:58:00.000-07:002011-06-29T16:58:03.543-07:00Dominican Culture through the Eyes of Children.<div style="text-align: justify;">I was just at a neighbor's house (teaching more math), and listened in as two girls clapped their hands and sang a song. I think it provides a pretty good perspective on how young girls see the roles of various people in this community:</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era bebe, bebe, bebe,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yo lloraba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era niña, niña, niña,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Me pegaban, aban, aban.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era joven, joven, joven,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Coqueteaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era madre, madre, madre,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cocinaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era vieja, vieja, vieja,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pateaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era muerto, muerto, muerto,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yo pestaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era angel, angel, angel,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yo volaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era Dios, Dios, Dios,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yo mandaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cuando era el diablo, diablo, diablo,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pelliszcaba, aba, aba.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Translated, the verses mean:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was a baby,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I cried.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was a little girl,</div><div style="text-align: center;">They hit me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was young,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I flirted.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was a mother,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I cooked.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was old,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I tottered around.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was dead,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I stank.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was an angel,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I flew around.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was God,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I gave orders.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div> <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">When I was the devil,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I pinched people!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">(at this point they attack each other with pinches and the game collapses into giggling).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Knowing that their about to make the transition from little girl to young person, they add in more hip shaking than is becoming on nine-year-old girls. Also, notice that there's no transition between 'young' and 'mother.' Fifteen-, fourteen-, and even thirteen-year-old mothers are not unheard of here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Basically, they cry, they get beaten, they get treated like objects, and then the only possibility for their lives is housework until they're too old to do anything useful. And God is nothing but a demanding tyrant (not to mention the sketchy theology about turning into angels and then into God...and then into the devil).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">While I have some disagreements about what happens after they die, the rest of it is depressingly true. More than teaching English and Computers, I feel the need to teach the community not to beat their children for the same bad behavior that the adults constantly (shamelessly) model. I'd like to teach them to overcome the oversexualization that starts at a disturbingly young age and teaches that there's nothing in between 'I like them' and 'We're having babies together.' I could even take a page out of the not-so-radical-feminist book and teach them that women can, in fact, work outside of the home, if they so desire (or their body).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was another game I found myself playing a couple of months ago, which they called '<i>malcriada</i>' (badly-raised/misbahaved child). It was something like playing house, except there was a mom and a daughter, and the mom was beating the daughter: kicking her, pulling her hair, telling her how stupid and worthless she was while the daughter cried. I ended up joining in as the 'good' parent, and then the daughter would hide behind me and cry while the mom shouted insults and tried to hit her. I usually like playing with kids, but I didn't like that game, and I ended it early.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm probably overreacting to this kids' game, but it's really wearing me down to be constantly surrounded by (what looks to me like) child abuse. And seeing the kids accept it as normal and incorporate it into their games doesn't make me any happier.</div>Austinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07379681475713290751noreply@blogger.com0