I am en route to Santo Domingo, the capital for my third and final Thanksgiving in the Dominican Republic. Volunteers agree, Thanksgiving is probably the holiday that pretty much all Americans agree upon as a good time, with little reason for debate, conflict, or stress, (unless, of course, you are the aunt or uncle hosting the event). As such, it is a holiday best enjoyed at home with the family, however, it is really pretty hard to imagine any thanksgiving that could beat out Peace Corps DR as second best to Moe and Jim’s house back in Michigan. Aunt Kelly does not send us chocolate trifle, and I have to pay for all my own beers!!, so there is no way that it could take first. But the event is a very good second. This year it is even more special for me. I am ‘aprovecharing’ = ‘taking advantage of’ the holiday by combining it with my Close of Service Medical exams. So, perhaps, the climax of the week will be running a turkey trot Thursday morning, playing soccer, eating turkey and any one of 20 or so pecan pies, and living up to my Peace Corps superlative “The Whitest Dominican” by destroying all competitors on the dance floor. However, there are other hidden treasures in this package deal. First the Close of Service Medical and dental exams:

Today: I will visit the doctor, put my head to the side, and cough.

Tomorrow (Wed.): Drool all over as the Dentist confirms (miraculously) that I have not gained any cavities during my second year of living on a diet of brown sugar and carbohydrates.

Marathon event: For three days, I will poop on command into a cup, once a day. The doctor’s want to know what is or isn’t living in my stomach that enables it to eat or drink almost anything with no detectable negative consequences. If they do find something, I’m not sure if I’ll want parasite medication, (perhaps it is a symbiotic relationship).

Besides the medical, I will also be taping hundreds of hardware store receipts individually to sheets of copy paper and turning them in with reports to close out grants for funding of our water project. I would prefer to use that cup a few more times and be double-checked for hernias rather than fill out grant reports, but they won’t let me.

My final extra fun in the capital?: Developing a hundred or so pictures of Dominican birthday patis, baby showas, beauty pageants, and generally ridiculous portraits for neighbors and other kids in my community.

There are a lot of annoying tasks and details like these that have to be taken care of at the end of Peace Corps service. I also have to decide what from my house I will give away (and to who) and what to sell. My community has also started preparing for my going away party (December 17th or 18th) it is likely to be over the top and a good time, but I expect it will somehow cause me a couple stressful days in the process. Amidst all of this, I am FINALLY getting data collection done for my master’s research. I have interviewed 60 homes in one community, asking all sorts of questions about where they get water and how to make their lives’ better (with respect to water). I have to visit another community next week for another fifty surveys, this time on the beautiful peninsula of Samaná. I’m hoping to get those done with a day or so to spare and go to a waterfall and some famous beaches over there. I have become very good at saying some tricky, long words in Spanish by repeating the questions so many times. My favorite is ‘Disponibilidad’ = Availability. Anyways, those of you who feared I may never return home, I am. I have already bought my ticket. I will once again see the sunny skies above Detroit on December 22nd – briefly, before the plane plunges into the perpetual winter cloudbank for landing. I am on schedule for getting my research work and everything else essential done here. I also think I learned my lesson about arriving on time for international flights, and do not plan on pushing this one back.

That’s enough of the boring details of what I’m actually doing here though, as I wrote in the beginning, I am on the way to the Capital on a ‘Caribe Tours’ bus. It is no tour, although it is comfortable enough – currently. I’d like to explain the unfortunate chain of events that has allowed me to sit here and write to you today.

I tossed my backpack filled with a good 30 pounds of books to return to the office in the luggage hold, and got in line to get on. As I waited in line to pass some random kid my ticket stub, I realized that the attractive woman who had been waiting for the bus as well was in line behind me. “Perhaps I can maneuver to sit by her and talk” I thought. There was no one else I saw walking down the isle that I felt like sitting next to, so I got my seat with an empty one to my left. The woman, of course, came almost all the way to my empty seat and halted one row ahead. After some milling about she sat down next to this old guy with goofy hair. Just my luck, fukú, I thought. Then I realized that he was the guy I saw getting on with a guitar and also realized he was a foreigner (from somewhere in South America perhaps). I forgave her for not sitting with me, deciding that he was a reasonable choice as someone better to sit with than a 6’3” gringo that - if one had to bet- would be incapable of communicating with a Dominican.

So I sat, happy at least that I’d still have some space to use my computer. Then she reclined her chair, I wasn’t going to complain, but now my chance to work depended on maintaining the open seat. I considered intentionally putting on that face that I imagine all American travelers have that says:

“I’m too big for this seat, look at my backpack!, I’m afraid you’ll steal my laptop. Hablo ‘un poco’ de espanyol. I’m afraid, I probably have B.O. Be afraid of me, don’t sit here!”

So, I was working up that mean, frio, face, when another girl came down the aisle looking for a seat. I was unprepared. She sat down in the Bolivian guitar virtuoso’s seat first – he’d gone to check on his guitar. Woman #1 politely informed her that the seat was taken. Again, I was unprepared, already having turned on my Mac Book, staring uselessly but intently at the screen, what I should have done was immediately offer to girl #2 that she sit next to me, but I couldn’t about face quickly enough from my cold, shy American persona I had been working up to deter other passengers. She found a seat one or two ahead. Failure again! At least I had the space to work.

Immediately he was upon me – an overweight man in a tucked in plaid shirt (all they wear here these days), seeking a seat to sit near his wife who had sat in the aisle across from me. He sat down next to me; I was hemmed in, by the reclined seat of Lady#1 in front of me and plaid shirt to my left. K Vaina- fukú – bad luck. This would be my journey. I tried to make the best of it. Somehow in about an hour I typed (at the speed of a second grader) two useful emails. As I typed, my left elbow jabbed into his chonchas (spare tire/ love handles). That must be annoying I thought, but I was almost done. When we stopped in La Vega (about halfway on the journey), some spaces open up and the couple found somewhere to sit together.

So, it is worthwhile to be persistent and look for any way to save a situation. I completely struck out in my efforts (or lack thereof) to get either woman to sit next to me. But with a couple emails and a couple elbow jabs, I secured my own seat and thus wrote you this horribly organized blog. I’m about done and we are entering the capital. A little short on time, so I’ll have to hurry to make sure I get a thorough hernia check.

I need to put things in perspective though. I have never ridden a greyhound bus in the US. I think if I did, it would be unlikely I would be looking for a date on one. So So why am I doing so here? I should also admit that Lady#1 had some sort of leopard print dress on – this is forgivable in Latin America, of course… but… It comes down to two truths. 1) Busses in the D.R. and Latin America are simply more mainstream and popular than at home, which means that there are actually good looking, well educated women to be found on them – going back and forth from university, etc. 2) Living in the campo (middle of nowhere, rural town) here is sort of like living in a small town in the Great White North (be it Houghton, Paradise, or the North Pole) – there are a lot of men and only so many women. So, you get on a bus to Santo Domingo (or imagine, a Greyhound to Detroit) and suddenly the prospects improve.

So, I couldn’t completely finish the blog before getting off the bus. I have since begun the process of my medical exams. I went to a very fancy building to see the Doctor, who gave a quick, painless exam. However, the building itself gave me quite a few challenges. I got in the Elevator – I guess that’s what they are called. Six or so Dominicans got on after me, each of whom probably spends more money on clothes monthly than I am paid, and we had a cramped ride up to the sixth floor. I wished I didn’t have my backpack with me -- as if I were going to scale the building and camp on its summit. I would have felt almost as a peer without the backpack. After escaping the elevator, I found the office of Dr. C. The door was locked. I puzzled momentarily until someone else said I had to push the buzzer. When the door unlocked, I walked through and said a mumbled gracias – either to the electric door opening mechanism or to the waiting room of people (they were sitting very nicely). After the visit, I had more issues with the elevator, clearly a novice compared to the other passenger. In conclusion, once again, it is time for me to go home. Elevators and door buzzers should not be cause for stress in one’s life.

Enjoy your Thanksgiving! I will certainly enjoy mine. If I can work the elevator to get to the roof of the hotel where apparently there is a swimming pool. Yes, it’s true. One more time - turkey at the pool.

Ryan

This past week, my group of volunteers who all arrived in country in August of 2009 held its ‘Close of Service’ Conference. It was three days at a nice hotel near the airport in the capital (closer to home?) eating good food, sharing with friends, and thinking about what has happened in two years here and what will happen in our futures. At one point we broke into small groups to give each other advice on career choices based on our strengths, skills, and interests. When it came time for people to give me ideas, a good friend told me “Ryan, what you do here as a volunteer fits you perfectly, you simply need to find a way to do the same thing, but get paid more for it!” I agree with her in many ways, I have enjoyed immensely being the combination of a municipal engineer and celebrity superstar in the small community I work and live in. I think I also prefer working with a community and getting my hands dirty on a daily basis rather than work for a large organization filled with polo shirts and vague objectives. However, as much as I enjoy sitting on my porch listening to the neighbor’s blasting bachata music while contemplating the minute differences in flavor between a plantain and a banana and slipping on my boots to troubleshoot the latest repairs to a water system, I also miss greatly sunny days on the beach with my family, skiing in the woods, acoustic jam sessions at school, and even the structured comfort of working at a desk in an office, with no distractions save facebook. So, although I probably would be relatively happy sitting around here in Rio Grande developing one community project after another while perfecting my dancing skills for years to come, I would also like to go home. I will be going home on December 20th , 2011 or a couple days after. So, please excuse me for not writing much, as I’ve been busy working and enjoying, and will keep on doing so until I leave in December. If I don’t stay busy, I won’t be able to come home. And I really want to go home. Before I slip into non-communication for the next few months, I thought I’d share a list of things I need or want to do before leaving (or so I can leave) the island.

• Buy plane ticket (this way I have to leave). Will someone come to Detroit Metro to get me in December? I might be cold.

• Finish collecting data for research report. Doing alright, a lot left to do.

• Keep supporting my community, especially as the Water Committee learns to take care of its own responsibilities.

• Finish site development for (at least) three other water systems.

• Visit more volunteer friends

• Go windsurfing at least once in Cabarete

• See at least one good Bachata Band in concert

• Enjoy one last Thanksgiving poolside

• Find homes for eight puppies and one permiscuous female dog – just after getting them all fixed.

• Make lots of banana bread

• Learn to cook rice like a Doña does (why are Americans so bad at this?)

• Buy more ridiculous clothing – for instance, the t-shirt with President Obama’s head sort of glittering as if it were made of sequins and with this sort of Egyptian or Mayan bordering (it’s 4 U, Grandpa).

• Learn to drive a motorcycle – will do the day I officially become Not a Volunteer

• Roast a bunch of coffee to bring home

• Stop worrying about so many things, sit, smile, and laugh with Dominicans as if it were just my first day here.

• Don’t miss the plane (again). Haha jaja haha!

So yeah, a long list, but very possible. In any event, if I don’t feel like I have completed my work after going home, and don’t find that other job that pays money proportionate to the workload, I could always return to keep volunteering with the 70% of my fellow volunteers who have decided to just stay on as volunteers for a year or two more until the economy improves or we revert to a hunter-gatherer and trade/barter system.

I can literally hear various neighbors snoring right now, so it is time for me to call it a night. Take care, Ryan.

p.s. I posted a bunch of pictures with stupid comments as well in Picasa, you might look at them.

It has been a long time since I wrote any blog, so first I’d like to start with a quick overview of the last couple months and what is to come:

Lots of dirty work clothes

Really sweaty – there definitely IS a summer here

Delicious water by the pipefull

Swim in a river…

Jump in a boat – it’s our birthday – the 4rth

Puppies?¡¡¡¡!!!!?¿¡¡#¡

Huge party – dead cow, Inauguration (Am I president?)

Grab a mule and ride up the mountain – more work and more fun to come.

If you understood some of that or if you need to go to the bathroom, stop reading, because I’m about to rant and ramble on about the same things much less concisely, and it is past my bedtime -- this only makes for worse writing.

As work on the water system came closer and closer to an end, I only became busier despite promising any number of friends, coworkers, family, institutions, and other very important gente that I was just about to become much less busy. Just about every time I went to the hardware store, I see Dominican plumbers (their tight, rhinestone pants still somehow sagging down in the back) making purchases for jobs they are working on. They usually were buying five or six pieces and fittings for a single job. Meanwhile I was loading greasy galvanized iron parts to install water taps in 70 homes into my basket. To actually install all of the taps I had lots of wonderful and talented helpers, but I was still responsible for purchasing everything and making sure that everything necessary was available each morning. It was fun, but it’s sort of scary when the girls at the check out of both major hardware stores (think Home Depot and Lowe’s) in a city of thousands of people know your name and look up your account as you walk up (Is it Brayan, Bryan, Rian, oohhh, it’s Ryan – always forget). Anyways, during May, June, and July that is what we have been up to – installing indoor or outdoor taps in every home in the project as well as the school, clinic, and government office. We also have had to make lots of simple but time consuming repairs over the last month, as all of the problems with the pipeline (mostly manufacturing defects in the PVC pipes) surface quickly once the water system is operating at full pressure (in some cases 70 meters of head). It is all worthwhile though, as I now have a beautiful red handled faucet perched over my kitchen sink that can gush clean, potable water in quantities that a fireman would envy. I like to open the valve and just let the water flow for a few seconds and smile.

All of this work happened during what has to be one of the hottest two summers recorded in the Dominican Republic since I got here. For a few weeks in June I woke up feeling hungover every morning. This made me pretty mad because I wasn’t even drinking. Then I noticed my pee seemed to have the consistency and color of melted butter and decided I was probably dehydrated. Things have been better since then since melted butter is selling for a high price and I have been drinking a lot more water – especially from that cool tap in my kitchen sink. Anyways, at home I don’t think I ever would have had the experience of sweating through my pants and then them getting covered in dirt (becoming mud on contact). Dad, it’s really good that you got those extra Carhart`s for me, as I cycled through a lot of smelly clothing.

Enough about laundry, a good while ago the Water Committee of Middle Big River, as I refer to my peoples, scheduled an Inauguración. They wanted to have it on July 3rd, but I told them that July 4rth was mother’s day in my country (cultural exchange is important in Peace Corps) and I wanted to be with german surfers and be harassed by Haitian prostitutes on that special day. So we set the Inauguración for a week later – July 9th. This gave us some more much needed time for planning the big event and getting all that water to go where it needed to. It also gave me time for the following two adventures:

A1 – Another volunteer desperately needed emergency help to pour a ferrocement floor in one half of someone’s house in her community. I was up for the challenge. I braved the risk of perishing on the Dominican Dia del Corpo (it’s a Thursday in June, religious holiday – can someone explain?). I was at risk of dying on this day, because no one works on this day, it is prohibited, unless of course your job involves selling rum, selling rice, working at a mall or restaurant in the city, selling lottery numbers, or running a reliable transportation business. My bad luck was that I needed to use some public transportation that was known for not being reliable – and, my cell phone had stopped working a few days prior. I set out for Magee’s site in the province of Moca that Thursday morning with a borrowed cellphone from a neighbor, the knowledge that she probably lived in a small village to the North of the town of Moca, and the hope that we would get in contact before I got stranded somewhere. The plan worked perfectly. We made cell phone contact, I needed to get to Los Bueyes (the oxen).. Only catch was that there would be no more buses to Los Bueyes that day, even though everyone was going there to swim in the river for the holiday. Once I got to Moca on a little bus that moved way slower than necessary, I debated with moto-taxi guys how to get to Los bueyes. Their only solution of course was that I overpay them a ton to get to Villa Trina on a motorcycle before paying a ton more to take another moto to Los Bueyes. PC Volunteers keep each other informed, and I knew this wasn’t the best option. I needed a public car to Villa Trina or an attractive woman to pass the time with while waiting for a better option. I GOT BOTH! A college girl asked if I was going to Villa Trina and then said to just wait a minute as a car was coming along. She was going there too of course. Once the car arrived we got in and chatted while waiting for four more passengers to fill the Toyota Corolla. My new friend was going to her aunt’s house in Villa Trina and of course I could come over and hang out if I wasn’t in a hurry. She also wanted some help studying English. We studied English in the car on the way up the mountain squished in the backseat with two Doña’s and their grandkid on the way to a funeral (this is status quo). When we arrived at the girl’s house, the driver got out to open the door and calmly stated that we had a flat tire. I thought, this is destiny o somepin’, and got out as well. Figuring we’d be a while, I sat on the porch with Adeline and her aunt and chatted. Probably was about to get offered some lemonade, when I realized that the taxi driver was already finishing changing the tire. Dominicans are way more efficient and calm about changing tires than American as they have to do it all the time. Still, I think he could have been more considerate of me and taken longer. I got back in the car grudgingly but at least with a phone number and stretched legs.

In Villa Trina I quickly found a motorcycle willing to take me to Los Bueyes for $300 pesos. A 12 dollar moto ride is really expensive and a good indication that I was in for a long trip. It was. Also a really great abdominal work out trying to hold on to the motorcycle with a backpack on for an hour over a cobblestone, dirt, and rock road. It was a pretty ride, but I was happy when it ended. Maggee’s house was perched on a mountain ridge in the middle of nowhere, so I sensed it would be a relaxing place to spend a couple of days. That night we went to a community meeting about a water system construction project. It was a very heated debate, but was quite fun for me as I just gave my much appreciated expert opinion at some point and just sat and smiled inside, knowing that my community already had all of this struggle behind them. The next morning was the real treat though, I got to pour a very flat slab of cement-sand mortar over squares of chickenwire in a house. I was just there helping and being helped by a friendly Dominican mason and a couple Haitian guys who were quiet and didn’t complain. It was work, but methodical and relaxing – like vacuuming or washing dishes. You don’t get respect for vacuuming though.

Eventually Magee’s boyfriend, José, showed up. This was great, because he is not only an American PCV but also a Mexican, so we immediately made plans to drink a couple beers after work and then make pizza and drink wine for dinner. It was great, almost as great as concrete floors. The next morning I knew why masons are always so cranky as I could feel every muscle in my lower back. Nonetheless, José and I decided that I should go see one of the rivers before leaving. It was a long hike down the mountain but well worth it, as the blue water gushing over waterfalls and pools could not be described with words or pictures (so I use neither). It was beautiful and refreshing and I’m going back some day – enough said. After lunch I was lucky to hitch a ride back up to Villa Trina with a truck driver. As I wasn’t in any hurry, I figured I might as well call my new friend in Villa Trina before getting all the way there. After she remembered who I was, we agreed to meet in the park (I could find the park, right?). We got some coca cola and went over to her house. Was I hungry? I said I had already had lunch? Apparently this meant I wanted more. I wasn’t hungry, but the second lunch was delicious and it would have been really stupid to refuse. We sat around talking, this girl, her mom, and other random relatives or friends in their living room for at least three hours until we reluctantly both decided we had places to go. I headed back to Santiago with an invitation to get together the next time I was in Moca. This is a great idea, except that Moca isn’t on the way to anywhere besides cement floors in Los Bueyes. Also, still really don’t like the stupid ride between Santiago and Moca – short but painful. I’ll probably go back.

When I got back to Santiago (Saturday evening) I called up a friend for a place to stay and went to Burger King for free WiFi while waiting for him to finish grocery shopping. It’s really hard to explain, but it is really funny to sit in Burger King and watch really rich Dominicans park their SUVs and parade their kids in (90% of rich Dominican boys have a bowl-cut hair doo) to the VIP event area of Burger King for their birthday party. The menu includes extremely overpriced kids meals and…. A male clown in a orange hunting cap singing that song that Shakira made for the South Africa World Cup. I was speechless. The weekend still had more adventure in it, but I’ll skip that and move on to Chapter A2 – that is, Adventure #2.

A2 – 4rth of July, Mother’s Day, you know. Only a week after A1, I was a bit strapped for cash and really not up for the long travel to the beautiful Samaná Peninsula that so many volunteers were going to for the 4rth. There was just way too much stress in that last week and a half before the Inauguracion and I needed some real relaxation, not a long bus ride and a hundred drunk gringos. So, I got up at five thirty AM on the 4rth and hitched a ride with my host dad on his truck out to the main highway early in the morning. I smiled to see that besides bananas and washed clothing, he was also bringing 5 gallon bottles of water from our water system to family members living in the big city of Santiago (if only they had it so good as we do – water that is better than bottled and tastes like juice). Enough of that though, I was headed to Cabarete to meet up with just a few drunk gringos. Cabarete is only an hour and a half from where I live and is one of the most well known windsurfing beach towns in the world. I had never actually stopped there – so touristy! It was a good choice. Once I found my friends, we started our American holiday by going to a French Canadian run restaurant to eat some breakfast burritos. Well, that was after sardines and cinnamon rolls, mmmm. The big goals for the day were to drink, sit on the beach, and rent a sailboat. We began with the French Canadian bloody marys – avoid these. Arriving at the beach, things improved with a case of warm Brahma light beer. This is the absolute worst beer you could drink in a country with bad beer in general, but the quantity and price made up for that.

The beer was so warm we had to drink it fairly quick. After we’d finished enough to lighten the load we moved down the beach and convinced the renter of the hobie-cat that despite all the empty bottles, we were still sober enough to sail. I was designated captain. We did a great job, especially since it was the first time I had actually ever captained a boat while relatively drunk. I’m glad it wasn’t my boat! We wreaked havoc on novice windsurfer traffic as we cruised about sipping whiskey in good Canadian pirate fashion. The owner even let us go for an extra half an hour for free, so I must not have scared him much.

I arranged a good price for renting a windsurfer from a nice European lady in some future visit to Cabarete and then we headed back up the beach for lunch. We went to lunch at a place called Mojitos. The owner is Italian. She brought us some really great food, and the Mojitos were 2 for 1. Needed to take advantage of the deal we enjoyed the mojitos a lot. Verifying the bill, she said ‘Dieciseis Mojitos’ . We all said ‘ 16 Mojitos’, Ohhh. Of course, we Did drink 16 mojitos! Three for each of us plus one to share. Excellent. The evening continued with pizza, goofy clubs on the beach, and a drink special that we somehow managed to turn into a round of red, white, and blue shots.

Tuesday morning I woke up a bit later and pretty crummy feeling but headed right out back to Rio Grande for one last crazy week of work. I will warn you, public transportation in a tropical climate with a hangover is not fun at all, but might be worth it.

About the dog: My dog, a purebred Viralata named Loki or Loquita became romantic a month or so ago. If you ever get a dog in Latin America, avoid the females unless you like to suffer. For a couple weeks every male dog around was all about following Loki, or in some cases, me around. The corner of my porch became the preferred place to lift the leg. Although I have given Loki, well, birth control shots, these don’t prevent her from going into heat but hopefully prevent pregnancy. Anyways, while in heat she pretty much tore any dog’s head off that was sniffing around until she eventually found one she liked. The Dominican men said it only figured that she ignored her best friend, a small, brown playful dog completely, and decided to mate with a bigger, white dog (the only white one around) that had never been nice to her. Apparently this reminded them of what women do, however, I mentioned that male dogs are probably more easily compared to how Dominican men act regarding relationships. So… apparently some bigger dogs were about to kill the white one one day when Loki strayed from home. A neighbor saved him, but weeks later he still has a leg that appears to be broken or badly infected. The price of Love, I guess. Over the last couple weeks, neighbors, volunteers, and I have debated whether or not Loki is pregnant. I hope I don’t have to deal with puppies, but lately I have been content that there are no longer dogs whining at me and peeing on my house.

Back to the main story – the dog thing has been an issue in the background for a while now. The inauguration was scheduled for the Saturday after the 4rth of July. This is the really big, expensive ceremony where the community goes all out to celebrate the completion and good function of their new gravity fed water system. A month before, invitations had been sent out across the country to volunteers, other communities, project funders, government leaders, and community groups. Early in the week, we finished preparing award certificates for community members that were particularly helpful during the project. Only a few days before the event, a cow was finally located. Canela (cinnamon), as I heard her referred to cost $15,000 pesos and was estimated to have 300+ pounds of meat. I mostly spent that last week running around the community with plumbers finishing everything we could on the water system. On Friday, the community slaughtered and butchered the cow, cleaned two hundred pound sacks of rice, and boiled hundreds of pounds of potatoes, carrots, and beets for salad. I had been so busy all week that I ended up making notes for my speech the next day on an ATM receipt while waiting for a haircut.

When Saturday morning came, I had no idea if things would turn out well, but I was already happy and calm, knowing this was all coming to an end one way or another. After cleaning my house with the help of some wonderful neighbors and taking my usual bath in the stream, I put on my new clothes and headed down the hill to the party.

I spent the morning chatting with all kinds of people I had met from different rural communities but who I didn’t remember that well. I thought I would have had more time to elaborate my speech which was still written on that ATM slip; I didn’t. We started late, in usual form around 11:30, and things went pretty well. They should have spent more time preparing the program and speakers, but really, people are there to clap, then eat a bunch, and then dance. We had speeches by the water committee, peace corps director, me, the mayor, and Banco ADEMI – a Dominican project contributor.

We thanked the Dominican supporters of the project (local government, Banco Ademi, cooperativa de rio grande, and of course the community itself)

Community members also thanked support from the US including friends and family (of Ryan) who donated to the PCPP grant and the Club Rotario de Ludington, Michigan. (Thanks a lot!)

Then I helped give out awards – which were great except that the guy who made them for us made a couple of duplicates and forgot other people to be recognized. Fixing this is still causing a bit of stress. Over all though, it went well, and I think people liked my speech because it was fairly funny and I wasn’t nervous about speaking, since I knew everyone was pretty happy with me that day. The mayor said they would make a monument to my work if it were possible. I thought this ridiculous, but it was the general tone of the event. After eating and greeting a bunch more people, the fun party started as four consecutive merengue and bachata bands played and the bar sold ridiculous amounts of beer and rum. The high point for the Americans was probably when I brought out a cold six pack of microbrews from home to share amongst about twenty people. Despite the ridiculous heat and humidity I did manage to dance to five or six songs which is pretty good for an afternoon. Dominicans and Americans alike agreed that it was a successful event.

The fun continued in the morning with a pancake and hot chocolate breakfast for visiting volunteers. Sunday afternoon when everyone started leaving my house I couldn’t have been much happier with how things had gone over the weekend and couldn’t remember the last Sunday I had actually been so relaxed.

Work with the water committee and water system will continue until I leave (when?). Being around after initial completion of construction is considered to be pretty helpful for the sustainability of a water system and its committee. For instance, today we went around informing project members who are not up to date with monthly payments that the next visit will be to lock their taps if not paid. In a culture very much founded in giving to your neighbors (and lack of accountability) it is not easy to begin to turn off friends and relatives’ water service – they need a cold hearted American who everyone loves anyways to help them get used to being a little mean when necessary.

Tomorrow (Saturday) I am traveling through the mountains on mule with a group of friends from my community to attend another water project inauguration in La Descubierta on top of the mountains and overlooking the Caribbean Sea. I’m excited to go to another inauguration at which I will have no responsibility. The mule trip should be entertaining too and it is a bit cooler up there than where I live.

From here on out I am also digging into research for the completion of my master’s degree at Michigan Tech. As I do so, I’ll also be helping out a bunch of other volunteers with projects, visiting different parts of the country, and trying to catch some good concerts and beaches while here.

I hope you all are having a fine summer – Cojelo suave! (take it easy)

Ryan

I am sitting in a pink house. It’s my friend Gabe’s house. In his town, “La Descubierta” = ‘The Discovery’, people call him GRabRiel. And we though Gabriel was a pretty standard latino name. Of course, they call me BRAYAN, or at least that’s what the court orders say that came from the big town of Altamira, asking Señor Brayan and others to come talk about some problems with “a Property and some Water Pipes”. So, I’ve been counseled by Peace Corps that I shouldn’t get envolved with legal matters pertaining to the water Project – that’s the communities’ responsibility- even though my name is sort of on the court papers and I’m pretty much involved with everything in the project. So, my friend GRabRiel asked me to come up and help build the intake works for ‘Water System Discovery’ today. Really though, I know that he just knew that his pink house made of a palm tree or two is just a good place for me to hide out in the woods like a fugitive. And it is, to get here I had to take two motorcycle rides to a town called Pescado Bobo (“Dumb Fish”). In DumbFish, I rendezvoused with a Dominican named ‘Cha’li’ like Charley without the ‘R’ . Cha’li and I walked an hour and a half up and down mountains and across rivers to discover La Descubierta. You can tell your really getting to the real ‘campo’ (Kuntry wit a K) because the kids stop wearing clothing. Not because of poverty, just because it is unnecessary.

When we got here, I ate a bunch of Yucca mush (really delicious) for dinner, and settled down to enjoy Gabe’s (is it broadband?) internet card. Today I got up early, ate a bunch more, and spent the day throwing around concrete mortar in a tiny, wet cave. This turned me into a large, wet, grey, smelly man. I was almost as disgusting as an American or European backpacker in Latin America living for three weeks without deodorant – but not quite that bad. So after we finished the work of art, called a work of take for some silly reason in Spanish (Obra de Toma), we stumbled down the mountain to the pink house again, washed up and ate a whole ton of starch in the form of fried plantains and bread, with some fried cheese. They sell ‘cheese for frying’ here, and I would have never thought to fry cheese in oil.

So I felt sort of guilty about having all that fun in the tiny-wet cave and not sharing the fun with anyone back home, so I called my family to tell them I will probably end up in a Dominican jail. They say they are a lot like a Mexican jail, but the food is worse – however you can still dance and drink rum; so it’s a toss up.

GRabe, as he likes to be called, has paid me for my hard work with a small bottle of rum and a cherry sucker. So then I felt bad about not sharing the cherry sucker with anyone (Dominicans always share their suckers), so I thought I’d share my story with you.

Tomorrow I will leave the pink house, eat a bunch of startch and tumble, slide, and roll my way back down the mountains and over the rivers home to Rio Grande. Although no one really gives me suckers at home in Big River like they do here in The (spaceship) Discovery, I still like it. We have a lot of fun -- cooking spaghetti and bananas on the riverside (Italian style boiled bananas), going to funerals, and drinking Wiki (try to figure out what that means) at merengue parties. Life is simple because the only cool colors to wear are purple and yellow and it’s OK to leave the tags on your clothing. AND – life is about to get even better, because my life’s greatest work, the Rio Grande al Medio Water system will be finished in May. That will let me catch up on more important tasks like buying more purple shirts and new jeans with ugly holes in them.

My sucker is finished and I don’t want more rum, so I think I’m done. Happy Easter, and good night. I’ll finish with a classic Dominican Blessing: “May your overcooked eSpaghetti always be accompanied by boiled, unripe bananas and cherry suckers.” Amen

I really need to go to Punta Cana. Apparently it is where the University of Michigan and alumni vacation. I'll bet you can buy hats with a yellow M on them, although the hats would probably also have some sort of confusing reference to the yankees or new york on them as well. I always wonder how dominicans in the country end up with nice UM apparel - now I know, Punta Cana.

Anyways, as the Title mentions, my life is far from Punta Cana at the moment. If your visiting PC, let me know though - some sort of miracle might allow me the time to visit you there. I've been ridiculously busy since returning from the States in early January, but I'm happy working hard and enjoying my days here which become fewer and fewer much quicker than I'd like. So if you were worried, I have not flown off a mountain road on a motorcycle crashing through the banana trees. Nor have I been kidnapped by a dominican girl in canary yellow high-heeled Converse All-Star Sandals (they exist). Hopefully these will happen someday though, as each sounds like a bit of fun.

Yesterday I ate two lunches and two dinners, with a papaya smoothie after the second dinner. Oddly I didn't feel that full - although certainly would have been happy with less food. The trouble here is that the harder I work - especially when walking around the community, the more people want to feed me. Exercise would have to be the worst plan for trying to lose weight for someone who didn't have a black hole in their stomach like me. for every unit of work one does here, the food on your plate expands exponentially.

So, as the water system nears completion - really, we're close! - my workdays span from 7am to 11:30pm. I don't work the whole time of course - there are a couple hours in there for eating, a couple hours for sitting or lying in my bed exhausted at mid day, and a period in the late afternoon when I see everyone around me sitting around relaxing. During that afternoon period I remember that I am a Peace Corps VOLUNTEER living on a tropical island and should really spend a couple hours relaxing with little brain activity and even less physical movement in good local fashion.

Life is good! So are washing machines. I decided to wash a few things MYSELF and by HAND yesterday afternoon. It's not that hard to do, but certainly takes some time. I needed some snazzy clothing to go to a water project inauguration saturday, the electricity was out, and I didn't want to bother my dominican supermom - Thelma- with washing anything. Anyways, I think I raised a few eyebrows - dude washing his laundry and by hand. here we usually wait for electricity but I couldn't go dirty or poorly dressed to the party! Well, perhaps I will be poorly dressed, but that is for someone else to decide. The funny thing about it was that my family had been washing that day, and I realized they were using a fleet of three "economic, efficient" dominican washing machines. they are portable, like a cell phone. Transportable on a motorcycle like everything else here. Anyways, they are very involved to use, hardly less work than washing by hand. Anyways, I would have to agree with my (real) Mom's comment while visiting that they should just buy a real washing machine! you know, the American kind where you put in clothes, soap and water and it just works. it would have to be cheaper than a fleet of those... porta-washers. I'll try to make a photo album of the clothes washing process here for you. how exciting, right?

I need to get back to my home for a 4pm meeting and to eat lunch (only 1 lunch today). Just wanted you to know that all is well here. I'll try to write something more meaningful next time.

Not sure if I’m in the right mood for writing anything entertaining right now. I’ve been a bit overwhelmed lately by the following series of events. Not sure exactly how many weeks ago this all started but life is approximate at best.

A number of Wednesday’s ago:

My community and I are preparing to start the 5 day uninterrupted process of building a 10,000 gallon water tank.

All the usual – will it rain? Who has a donkey without a lame foot for transporting materials? (No – one – ok, we’ll carry cement on our backs). Can the mayor buy the cement? Oh, it is raining.

The next day we began the uninterruptable process and were initially stalled by the rain. This was OK, since Dominicans are slowly learning thanks to the US Peace Corps, that they won’t actually melt like witches if they get wet while working. Peace Corps then calls me. really they couldn’t call me but I found out through gossip – I am to be ‘consolidated’ in the Capital with all other volunteers on Friday for a training on Cholera awareness and prevention.

I rushed off to the capital Thursday night, drank a few beers, and learned that I really should wash my hands. I returned to my community Friday night. The masons and work brigades had successfully ‘poured’ the tank floor without me – Gracias a Dios.

For the next four days I didn’t really have time to contemplate or discuss much how someday soon Cholera would probably be on the Dominican side of the Island making things less fun. We mixed sixty 100 pound bags of cement with the other ingredients (sand, gravel…) all by hand, yelled at each other a lot, and drank at least a gallon of rum on Sunday to keep the workers happy about losing their day off.

Was it Tuesday?:

Then the Peace Corps decided that Americans might actually melt if we get rained on. (Peace Corps volunteers are generally a bit ‘colder’ than the average Dominican and also make people work a lot, so we could be easily taken for witches.) For fear that we might get stuck in our villages working in the rain as we should, the Peace Corps ordered volunteers in the region to head to a hotel in Santiago to wait out ‘Hurricane (what’s his/her name?)’. Obligated to be in Santiago by 3pm and also obligated to finish the roof on the tank, the community and I said the hell with it and made a great last stand to finish the roof. It was beautiful and chaotic. Women were carrying materials up the muddy hill after five days of rain. A small underestimate of sand and required us to borrow the donkey once again from it’s now drunken but complacent owner at 6 in the evening as night approached. Feeling sort of silly about not having people bring more sand up earlier in the day when it was easy to do, I decided to help remediate by making two trips up the slippery slope with a bag of cement on my back. As I raced the donkey up the hill (I won), the drunk men at the bottom pondered my chances of success – “He’ll never make it!”…. “Hombre!.. Of course he will, he’s a horse”

The masons and I finished the tank as the last light of day disappeared. We headed down the hill covered in mud in near silence – a mixture of outrage and elation in the air. To amend things, I ate a third plated of rice and spaghetti for the day. At home, I packed my bag in 5 minutes and threw a couple buckets of rainwater over me to get rid of the worst of the mud and cement. I got into Santiago on the last bus of the night. Walking into the hotel six hours late, I was surprised that the other volunteers in the lobby were not overly surprised at my nighttime arrival. Not much surprises us though, and the condition of my hair probably explained that I had been working. A hot shower made a good end of the day.

As we waited out the hurricane, I waited for my mom to arrive. She got into the beach town of Puerto Plata Thursday morning as planned. I took the bus from Santiago, picked her up and as the sun shown on a pleasant day explained that we had to head straight back to lockdown in the hotel in Santiago on the interior of the country – There’s a hurricane don’t ya know. We spent a couple nice days in Santiago at the hotel eating more vegetables than I usually get in Dominican dishes. I think my mom liked talking to all the interesting Americans, even if one did intentionally fart for her, thinking that she was just a new volunteer (that would make it ok?).

On Saturday when we finally escaped back to my community, we went out to the street at night to my host brother’s birthday party. The traditional birthday party involved really loud music, beer, and a stew called Asopao prepared at 11pm. We walked about and my mom met my neighbor’s as well as she could without understanding a single word. Just as the stew was about ready, it started to rain – and rain – and rain. We waited out the storm at the general store. The stream by the store is known for flooding. We were moated in by water sitting at the Domino table with the guys. The rain had also caught a crab and a rat by surprised. Washed down the stream, we saw them crawl their way out of the water before being swept into the culvert. We caught the crab and contemplated eating it. I don’t think mom was interested. It was really a great introduction to my life for Mom, especially when three hours later; we decided to just walk home in the rain. When she realized how close we were to my house, Mom just about lost it. She didn’t realize that we had been waiting out the rain simply for fear of getting wet.

After a few marvelous days in the ‘campo’ (think Eckerman) eating bananas and salami while painting my house blue and yellow with a professional crew of 5 to 17 year olds who were happy to work for a glass or two of coca cola (beer for the big people), we were ready to see the real Dominican Republic. We got on motorcycles (yes, she did ride a motorcycle taxi not once but twice), and headed for the beach. We checked into a random All-Inclusive outside of Puerto Plata. This was my first time at an All-Inclusive. For those of you familiar with the movie (or the concept) of Sanky Panky, it was pretty much exactly like that – even a dude in a chicken suit.

Fortunately, I was saved from my righteous self, by a group of girls from Toronto that I initially mistook for Dominicans. I was really only sure they were Canadian and not Dominican when one asked for gravy on her french fries. Spent a couple nights dancing to music in English that I am far too detached from to know the words to. On Friday, my Mom and I went on a Catamaran Snorkeling cruise, complete with 15 German couples, American style ground beef tacos, and no wind. We had a good time, I think my Mom and I out-snorkeled the Germans without contest. I’m glad I don’t have an open-bar on my own sailboat – I would have drowned in Lake Superior long ago. During a long walk on the beach Saturday, a realtor offered to sell us property on the only undeveloped stretch of beach around (this was why we wanted to walk there). Not interested in purchasing the Sheldrake River mouth (a close resemblance – Don’t sell it Grandpa), we bought some jewelry from the realtor instead. Yes, he sold beachfront property and fishing line necklaces.

After dropping off my mom at the airport and chilling on the beach some more, I crashed at a volunteer’s house in the city of Puerto Plata. Arriving in my community, I was a bit hung-over from the general excessiveness of two days at an all-inclusive (how does one spend a week there?). I missed my Mom, felt an urge to visit Toronto, and still felt uncomfortable about Germans, but I had work to do.

Monday morning I spent staking out pipeline with my trusty neighbors while the remaining ‘boys’ dug trench. With one day of work at site complete, it was time to leave again. Tuesday morning I headed for the cold mountains of Constanza for a one year in service training with other volunteers. It was cold, which was amazing. We had a fireplace, marshmallows, and pine trees. I was very happy to have long underwear with me (I might freeze solid when I arrive in Detroit on December 18th). We gave each other advice on our projects and did some ‘research and development’ on improved cook stoves. The Peace Corps helps families build stoves that use less firewood and don’t coat your lungs and cookhouse with black soot. The one we were building at the training didn’t get past a lump of clay (see photo album) but I really hope I can work more on this project in my remaining year here.

Anyways, it is Saturday, and I am just happy to have a few days back in Rio Grande. Today’s work was pretty standard – ditch digging and me running around getting tools and materials to cross a small stream. Hopefully I’ll be caught up enough with my job as ‘Engineer’ to go back to digging the trench with pick and shovel along with everyone else (if I don’t get back to manual labor my biceps won’t fill out my Dominican t-shirts).

While writing this, I’ve run out of time to get into town to post this on the Internet – it’ll have to wait till Monday. Until then it’s breathing smoke in the kitchen, a sip of rum, Mass in Spanish, Sunday pork rinds, and catching up on gossip.

Today was pretty nice (tal vez chevere nays!).  I got up at 6:20am, put on my cleanest pair of dirty pants and sombrero, went to the neighbor’s house for the ritual cafecito (morning shot of extremely sweetened coffee), called the dog and headed out to work.   I figured the morning would go well as we all arrived around the same time and not I nor anyone else complained about being late, early, hung over, or otherwise incapable of digging.    After a few hours of uneventful trenching, my water committee president showed up to get me to go meet with the mayor.  I was prepared as I had put on my cleanest dirty jeans – now dirtier and with new holes in the knees – and changed into a dry t-shirt.  We strolled into the Ayuntamiento (Town Hall) side by side, the president in dress slacks and me sporting the best sweat and mud in town.  Shortly after entering I had to run towards the door and give Loki a weak kick in the rump with my rubber boot.  I don’t think she knew that dogs aren’t allowed to talk to the mayor.  After coffee #2 of the day we were quickly shuffled in to Julio’s office.  The new mayor confirmed the continued support of the project by the government. We agreed that he would buy the cement for our water tank construction coming up at the end of October and that he would also send the government work brigade as requested, starting Monday.  We left with a victory against corrupt government and a bit closer to project completion.   I hiked back up the hill to the work site and dug some more, sweating through that second dry shirt.  At mid day we had placed six 3” distribution pipes and the Tee for the connection to the first home in the distribution system.   At home I ate some predictably tasty rice, beans, and meat.  Sitting on my porch, the day only got better, as the afternoon rain fizzled into a drizzle.  The dry afternoon allowed us to have our monthly community water project meeting.  It also went surprisingly well. We started on time and discussed, pondered, bickered, and decided on a number of topics.  Afterwards I sat in the little park in front of the general stories and traded insults and jokes with the guys.   It is after ten o’clock and I am decidedly happy.  Despite realizing how ridiculously over salted the eggs were for dinner today, I can’t complain – because I’m not complaining, I don’t think I even yelled at anyone today.    It’s hard to be unhappy when I have cookies and snow to look forward to at Christmas!   P.S.  for any of you prone to assume that I must be suffering here in the Peace Corps in a ‘developing country’, don’t over think me looking forward to going home.  I think I’m about as bummed about missing the holidays here, as I am excited to go home.  I’ve decided to try getting some Dominican Christmas celebration in early December  -- I will have to eat potato salad and roast pork and go out dancing and drinking rum ‘puro’ before my plane leaves.  I’m sure some Dominicans will help me out as they understand that in the US people have no fun and can’t make noise and can’t break any rules.  This happens to be entirely true – although I disagree entirely.

I am thankful today that the Dominican Republic is at the very least, a poorly functioning democracy. Tomorrow is August 16th, Inaguaration day for the various politicians who were elected or reelected during the ridiculous month of May. But why am I thankful? It’s a Holiday! The Monday holiday makes a ‘puente’ (bridge) or long weekend. I have had two straight 6-day workweeks with trenches, concrete, hundreds of boiled bananas, and lots of walking uphill in the morning with calculations, organizing, and hurried trips to the city in the afternoons. I have today and tomorrow off. This Sunday morning, I slept in until at least 6:30am, and then read a book for a bit listening to everyone else get up before me. It was great. Tomorrow there is a party after the inauguration – or perhaps more as part of it – of course. The party should be fun, as will starting off fresh again in the trenches on Tuesday laughing at guys working hung over.

Dominican- Y como va el trabajo? Ya empezaron? (How is the project going? Did you start construction?)

Me (yo) - No (No)

Dominican – y cuando, entonces? (when then?)

Me (yo) – Casi casi, ya pronto arrancamos. (almost, soon we’ll start!)

This is the conversation that all ‘water’ volunteers repeat 100s of times during their first 6 months to a year on site. Now it’s really fun to respond something like

‘Ay piipoo, hace mucho! Ya tenemos como dos meses faja’o! Tu no supiste?’

(Whoa, started a long time ago! We’ve got like 2 months of work in. Where were you?)_

So here’s a summary of what we’ve accomplished

1. moved sand and gravel to tank site

2. moved sand, gravel, and cement to intake works site

3. Constructed smaller intake works

4. Constructed larger intake works

5. Connected two sources/ intake works

6. Crossed large streambed with a buried pipeline in concrete

7. Placed 250+/- meters of PVC pipes in trenches buried 1.5 to 3 feet deep

8. Crossed over two temporal streams in the air with galvanized pipes.

9. Gotten Ryan’s clothes really dirty every day

The next kilometer or so to reach the tank site should go much quicker. I think we can get pipes there in about a month at which point we will either start on placing distribution lines or build the tank. Since we have gotten started, a number of families have joined the project (skeptics…), which will make the work go quicker and the benefits greater.

Thanks again to anyone who donated to the ‘PCPP’ Grant for the project through the Peace Corps site. We have actually received the money now and I am just trying to find time between work and afternoon rainstorms to buy 700+ more 19’ PVC pipes with the money.

Excuse me for lack of communication over the last month or so – being tired and busy – and now rain – makes it hard to get out to use the internet or find phone service. At least I think about calling home every day!

To finish up, here are some things, besides work, that have kept me happy lately –

· Seeing a cool green frog on a big leaf that no one wanted to kill (Dominicans are very afraid of things that jump)

· Other dudes remarking with surprise that my machete is sharp “pero CORTAAA..”

· Ripe bananas

· ‘Swimming’ in the river – it’s not all that deep

· bathing in the stream – nice and cold

· Some of my plants (peppers, oregano..) are actually growing!

· Motorcycle trips on hot days (there’s always a breeze)

The afternoon storm has begun, so I think I will take a nap until the rain passes. Hopefully I can make it into town today to post this blog.

-Ryan

I had to come to the capital today to get a green card, as my visa was about to expire. It feels good to have fresh, new legal residence in the Dominican Republic. Unlike some fellow volunteers, my ID photo showed that I have not become significantly fatter or skinnier since arriving.

Yesterday, after finishing the intake works for our water system, I asked if it was likely to rain that afternoon. My friend said that it was more sure that it would rain than that I would eat lunch that day (I always eat lunch). Over the past three weeks we have struggled with unpredictable rain that makes the muddy trails up to the water source difficult for animals carrying materials. It also makes working with concrete challenging as rain damages dry cement and can wash away recently placed work. Fortunately we completed the job without any big problems. It just took a little patience. We decided to use a mason from the community to build the intake works (along with me and the rest of the work crew), rather than paying a Dominican friend who regularly helps out volunteers with masonry related to water systems. It was a bit of a hassle bringing the community mason along to see other constructions in other communities to train him, but it saved us money and leaves the community with better trained masons and more ownership and pride in the project.

We took a risk by starting construction with very limited funding, but it has worked out well as this week we learned that we will receive funding from a Dominican donor next week and also that the Peace Corps Partnership Program grant was filled. We should receive that money in a couple weeks. Thanks if you helped by donating to the PCPP!

This funding means that committee members and I will be able to order a good portion of the 1000+ pvc pipes we need within a week. Once those get here, we expect about 4 or 5 months digging pipeline trenches (hopefully 4 rather than 5). I'm pretty excited as digging with a pick and shovel all week long will hopefully turn all those rice and beans I eat into muscles far stronger than a Bowflex could ever gain me.

Once again, thanks for your support if you donated to the project! I need to get back to work today taking advantage of internet in the capital while I can. I hope to leave tomorrow morning so I can get back to my community before a tropical storm or hurricane strands me here. (We have a merengue party on saturday that I don't want to miss.) I'll try to send a more creative blog soon. Check out the link to pictures below.

Vaya con Dios!

-Ryan

Not sure when the last time I wrote something on the blog was. Since elections it has been a bit slow on big news. We keep working away trying to obtain funding for the water project while speculating on whether or not politicians will come through with any money. Talk more about that later.

May is typically a rainy season but May decided to wait until June this year. We’ve had downpours and wind every afternoon for the past week. More exciting, there is also thunder and lightning to go with the rain. As neighbors had said during the drizzle of December, the heavy rains we are experiencing now make far less mud than the light rains. Rather than sitting still, all of the clay and silt is washed down paths, ditches, gutters, and streams into the river. Obviously this has it’s own negative effects – the river looks like hot chocolate, but I’m just happy to be able to walk five minutes from the paved road to my house without accumulating an inch of mud under and around my shoes.

I have nearly finished construction of the block and concrete kitchen counter in my house (it still needs a drain pipe to the outside). I have been buying odds and ends of kitchen ingredients when I am in the town or city. On my last trip to Santiago I bought my first jar of peanut butter, which is now over half gone without really having done much more than eat it with a fork or knife. I really just want to clean out the jar for ant-proof storage of dry milk powder. Since I don’t have a REAL oven and this country is lacking in REAL baked goods, I bought an ‘Olla de Horno’ a while ago. It’s like a fancy bunt pan that you can put on top of a stove burner that functions just as well as a regular oven (most likely with much less fuel too). Since then I have averaged about two cakes a week including vanilla, banana bread, and chocolate banana. Tomorrow I have been contracted to make a cake at a neighbor’s house. The general lack of good baked goods here makes it pretty easy to please people. I’m going to try making bread soon – since the standard bread here is even worse than the standard cake. Possibilities are limitless, except that any baked invention has to be shaped like a giant Cheerio. I expect that genetically modified baking chickens with a 2” diameter hole in the middle will be available soon.

Looking for ripe bananas to make cakes has had a side benefit – various neighbors and kids are donating me ripe or ripening bananas (and related fruits) much more often. One of my favorites in close competition is the RULO. It is a fatter than a banana, shorter than a plantain, and with a flavor different than either. Quite disgusting boiled green, they are great ripe. The chubby RULO is also rumored to fatten up the CULO. If you aren’t sure what body part the C#L* is, check out the song of the same name by Pitbull and Lil Jon – you might figure it out. Alright, so that is enough of food… What else is fun in life? Puppies! Despite being in the running for “Peace Corps Volunteer least interested in getting a dog”, I inadvertently acquired a campo doggy a few days ago. After a long morning hiking up in the hills from the spring along the future water line route, I got to my house, unlocked the door and soon found a puppy under a table. I took it outside and asked who’s it was. The Neighbor kid said – “Oh, that’s ours we were wondering where it went.!” Then later “it seems to like you, you can have it if you want!” I made no indication that I wanted it, which I guess meant that I did, because he didn’t take it back and the puppy has no intention of leaving. It’s a great little dog except for a couple things: 1) Had or has worms 2) Ticks in its ears 3) Fleas 4) Whines at night because I won’t let her in the house 5) I mentioned her – it is a she-dog 6) My various neighbors have about ten male dogs collectively. The will be very ‘happy’ err ‘excited’ when she’s older. But still, she’s pretty cute, seems to be just as healthy and possibly bigger than some of her brothers, and hopefully will follow me fearlessly through the hills as I hack my way down paths with my machete and rubber boots. **Please see latest PICASA album for pictures of Dog (needs a name), rulo, cake, and kitchen counter. ** Besides cooking, parties, and a puppy, I have really been working too. These rains have yet again shown why the community needs a new water system. The mud I mentioned that washes into the river has been clogging up the pipes lately either making the water dirty or causing it not to arrive at the houses at all. In preparation for buying materials, brigade captains recently helped me organize workers to resurvey the line from the source to the tank – allowing for a final pipe design of that portion. The local mayor is to deliver sand and gravel nearby to the water tank construction site this Wednesday. The following week we will begin brigade work by preparing the spring-source and tank sites as well as places to store materials and mix concrete at these sites. This will give brigades and their captains a chance to organize themselves working on relatively simple tasks of shoveling, loading mules and donkeys, and picking/shoveling flat areas. Following that week, we should receive money from the Dominican Fundación ADEMI, to make a first large parchase of PVC pipes from a manufacturer in the Capital. This will allow us to begin construction of the nearly six kilometers of pipeline that have to be dug by hand to a depth of 1.5 to 3 feet. Depending on what other funding sources come through first, we may also construct the ferrocement water tank and part of the spring intake works in July. Burying all of the pipes will take over four months. Now that local funding is coming through, beneficiaries are doing a decent job of paying the monthly quota, and we are prepared to work, I would like to invite you to contribute to the project. I have applied for a Peace Corps Partnership Project grant to fund Acueducto para un Futuro Mejor de Rio Grande al Medio. Despite the fancy name, this really means Ryan soliciting donations from family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances, or complete strangers who find this project interesting and worthwhile. I have applied for US$5000. This is about a third of the money we need in total (US$16,000) to construct the water system. In the event that the water system is overfunded whether due to lots of success finding other funding sources or due to really great engineering and cost savings during construction, left over materials and funding would be used for equally important projects like latrine or improved cook stove construction. Here are Peace Corps directions for donating to my project:

The easiest way to donate is to use this link,https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=517-373, or visit www.peacecorps.gov/donate and search by the project number, 517-373. Although, the web site is the quickest way to make a donation, you may also make a check payable to Peace Corps Partnership Program and send it to: Paul D. Coverdell Peace Corps HeadquartersPeace Corps Partnership Program, OPSI 1111 20th Street NW Washington DC 20526Be sure to indicate the project number, 517-373, on the check so it will be applied to the correct project. If you donate, I promise to bake you banana bread in my cute little pan while boring you with ‘had to be there’ stories of the Dominican Republic when I return to the US. You are welcome to send me questions via this blog, email, or facebook. If you haven’t yet, visit my PICASA web photo album. There are pictures mixed in specifically related to the water project. Enjoy the summer wherever you are, and I’ll try to write sooner next time. -Ryan

I pulled a short sleeve dress shirt off the hanger this morning wanting to look good as I roamed about santiago visiting prestigious hose dealers and hardware stores.  Little did I know it was stained at the bottom. Fortunately though, I think I stand out so much for my skin and hair color here that Its unlikely that many people have noticed the telltale color of spilled beans (or something similar).

Whatever the case, a well dressed white dude who's not dominican, but speaks spanish, has a motorcycle helmet but no motorcycle, getting in and out of public transportation at hose dealerships, and presenting himself as an engineer from a tiny town  -- where? must confuse and amuse a lot of people.  I still enjoy telling the truth of why I have a helmet but no bike, but a friend who's been here longer says he's switched over to extravagant lies about where his motorcycle is.  I'll probably try this soon.

It has been a crazy few weeks.  First, Nina visited for a week on spring break from Houghton.  Although it was ridiculously cold and rainy the first couple days, we had fun taking walks around where I lived, going to the beach for a couple days, and visiting Santiago and the capital.  Her was so amazement/disgust at the amount of sugar in the coffee, has made me consider stopping drinking it in the morning, but people seem to enjoy giving it to me, so its tough.  I think for my teeth though, things will have to change.  When we were in the capital, it so happened that the acting US ambassador to the DR was throwing a barbecue and pool party at his house for peace corps volunteers in town at the time.  So we went to that, the ambassador, his pool, and burgers with good mustard and other toppings were all great.  Nina flew out of the capital that saturday night.  Expecting a sad, hot, boring night in a hotel after she left, I ended up running into some other volunteers and went out to see some live music.  It was a few bands playing Son, the predecessor to salsa (i.e. Buena Vista Social Club).  Although it was too hot to dance, the music was amazing as were the old guys in fancy suits who knew how to dance to it.

I expected to dive back into work the next week, but a call from my mom sent me back to the capital to catch a plane to Detroit for my Grandmother's funeral.  I was in Michigan for a week, and despite being sad that I couldn't actually spend it with grandma, it was really nice seeing so much of my family.  I had sort of hoped that my grandma would have been able to visit me while I was in the Peace Corps. Although she won't be able to now, I think that she's with me here one way or another and will be up in paradise at her cabin with us when I get back in a couple years.

Although I haven't been too stressed out about being away for so long anyways, the trip home made me realize how quick this experience is going by.  I'll probably either be home or have someone visiting me here again within another 6 months.  Sure there's a year left after that, but I'm determined to enjoy it.

this past week I turned in an application for Peace Corps Partnership funds, which once it is approved will be available on the internet.  I will be be contacting friends, family and others in the US to raise $5000, which is roughly a third of the cost of our water project.  We have already been approved for some funding from the local government -which makes me very happy and other dominican funding is on the way.

whenever this water project is finished (perhaps 7 months to a year into the future), I'm looking forward to spending more time on simple things I want to do here like gardening.  Currently I have a good crop of basil, weird variety of cilantro, and some ginger.  When I get ahold of some seeds I like to plant some carrots and tomatoes..  Apparently I can plant lots of flowers just by sticking clippings in the ground.  For how bad these tropical soils are supposed to be, a lot of things do grow with very little effort.

As we are in Easter week, work has halted until monday.  Yesterday I went to a sandbagged swimming hole on the river -- people create swimming holes for the holiday.  The water was surprisingly fairly clean looking and certainly warm enough.  After that I played my most serious game of baseball here yet.  It was on a real field with many dominicans over the age of 12.  I did pretty bad, but acceptable considering how long it had been since I had played.  If I'm allowed I will probably play more and certainly improve.

The other big event of Easter (besides the same church schedule as in the US), are lots of parties with live music on Holy Saturday.  I'm torn between various events and invitations, but I'm sure whichever I go to will be fun.     Adios

Just chillin here in an air conditioned mall in Santiago.  It's very strange go to such places in this country when I live in such a different place.  The free internet is worth enduring the suffocating atmosphere.  The atmosphere sort of yells at a volunteer -- "you are too poor to shop here!" "Why do you have mud on your shoes?"  I make ten thousand or so pesos a month (300 some dollars) a tenth of it I could suddenly spend on a few Hanes t-shirts if I were so silly.  Instead I bought a nice green one for about a dollar, and then realized it has two holes in it, but it's still comfy.

I was on a mission to buy a small tabletop stove and gas tank for my house so I can begin cooking again.  No luck today, but maybe I'll make another trip tomorrow.  I think I will enjoy my own food and my host family's food more if I can simply do dinner and breakfast for myself a few times a week.  It will also be fun to make stuff for my neighbors to try.  Side note -- ocassionally my one neighbor sends me hot chocalate with peanuts.  Actually I'm not sure if it has chocolate, but I don't think she even knows how happy you can make an American by giving them a drink that tastes like peanut butter on a spoon without the gagging (it's warm and more liquified) and without the guilt -- it's supposed to be eaten that way.

Anyways, see the link to the pictures on Picasa that I posted (previous post).  thanks to everyone who sent postcards to me with my mom -- they'll be fun to share with people here.  This week I'm busy with chasing politicians and other people here looking for their money.  The community is confident that elections in may are going to turn into more local funding than usual for our water project.  I hope its true!  More than actually completing the water system or improving people's health, I think my own goal here is to simply do these things with a lot of local and national dominican resources.  This means  the community figuring out how to mobilize resources on its own.  On that front, I think we're doing well, but I can see how it is easy for NGOs and development workers to simply do everything themselves. As one of the Professors at MTU told us, you have to play catch with the community (here we say 'parar' -- to stop the ball)...  Sometimes I play catch letting them do something before I do.  Basketball is now more popular here too though, so for me thats a good analogy -- The water committee might make a few passes by talking to some people, then I'll pass by writing and printing a letter, and then someone will shoot by turning it into an office.  We then celebrate by bragging to others about the work we've done without even checking to see if we actually made the basket (i.e. did we get any money...).  Hope this has confused you.

Well, this is my five minute update.  I just finished a three month “In service training conference” in the most likely Amazing and beautiful mountains of Jarabacoa.  We didn’t really see mucho of the landscape since we were working the three days we were there. The city seemed very nice and I had good bread for the first time simce arriving in this country. I also got my shoes cleaned by a kid in the park. They’re so much better at Cleaning my shoes than I am! However, as I walked away, one of the kids apparently squirted soapy water on my clean shoe – destroying its beautiful luster however temporarily.  Before I realizad what had happened they were done Laughing and had dissapeared.  Hopefully I can go back to Jarabacoa some day, it would be a great place to take visitors.   Thursday afternoon and Friday morning I spent in the big city of Santiago – this is on my way home.  It was great since I was able to tour around the city some with other volunteers who actually live there and I also got a few different errands done related to my project ( the current price of 1/4inch rebar is 33pesos by the way). I even went to a mall -- in the food court there was burger king, kfc, pizza hut, and dominoes. I ate chinese -- it was actually pretty good.   This weekend besides a bunch of work I need to do writing reports and funding requests/applications, I’m hoping to make some valentines day phone calls and perhaps dance a valentine’s day merengue. The merengue really won’t be that exciting since its what we’d do here for any holiday or random day of partying.  I’m curious to see if people pass out those chalky candy hearts that say BE MINE or LOVE’S 4 EVR on them.  I sure hope they do, but I imagine they would need to have longer and more intricate Dominican cat calls on them.   Until next time - & sorry this one wasnt really very funny or interesting. Haven't been taking many photos lately but maybe I'll put a couple up -- it's tough to get a good enough internet connection to accomplish this.

The following is an email I sent to my grandma some time ago. I liked it and didn't want to write more, so I thought I would share it. I don't  think she'll mind.Hi Grandma,   I realized that I haven’t sent you a letter or postcard yet, perhaps in February!  Anyways, I’m going to try to call you today but am not sure if it will work. Hope that you got to try the hot chocolate and coffee I sent.  I’m not sure if the coffee will be all that great.  – It is certainly a very very dark roast. Sometimes it’s really good here and other times I think it’s only enjoyable because they put SO much sugar in it.  Reminds me of Nick and his tea cups, except these are grown adults and Nick’s tea would be considered lacking sugar – or even ‘bitter’.   Nina mentioned to me the other day that all I ever write about in my blog is food – at least it’s always mentioned.  But I sort of have to, life is very simple here in that way (which I like). There isn’t a whole lot to think about here besides the heat, the cold, the rain, the mud, and the fruits.  Some volunteers suspect that this is why so many Dominicans spend a good part of their day and pocketbook on lottery tickets. Each day they wait around for signs telling them which numbers to play – it’s simultaneously amusing and sickening to a cheap but romantic guy like me.  Just now I’m watching some lizards make love – they aren’t nearly as funny to watch as the ducks.  We recently finished some rainy cold weather, which reminded me of a rainy day in the summer in the trailer in Paradise. The ducks, which live nowhere near any pond or other body of water really liked it, but I had a constant longing for the ‘walk like an Egyptian’ song, sandy carpeting, ritz crackers, and ‘The Gods must be crazy’.   Movies and reading are fun here.  I’ve begun reading at night.  I generally am avoiding reading since it’s probably the most common way for volunteers to avoid their work.  By work I mean sitting around and chilling with the gente (people).  If you can imagine, Dominicans don’t sit around in their living room quietly each reading their own novel.  However, we did sit in the living room this morning watching RAMBO, now that’s America! So anyways, Rambo and Jackie Chan by day, and at night I fall asleep reading about some guy’s adventures in Austrailia living with Aboriginees. It’s really nothing like Crocodile Dundee, a bit like The God’s must be Crazy, and has interesting parallels to my experiences here.               I’ll close with more mention of food. The day before yesterday we picked a couple grapefruit while collecting firewood. I had a desire to eat them as I would at home – cut in half and with a serrated grapefruit spoon.  WE do not have grapefruit spoons here. So I was a bit worried. As the dishes were dirty I couldn’t even find a decent sized regular teaspoon.  I ended up applying the Dominican method for eating an orange (maybe I’ll send pictures later).  After perhaps six months here, my life is changed forever, I will never have to search for a grapefruit spoon again.  I can now enjoy delicious grapefruit with no more than a knife or machete and my own face.   However silly, I thought this was a good example of how the Peace Corps is a unique and life changing experience.  There are so many things big and small, good and bad that I will learn here about life, people, grapefruit, and myself that I never could have imagined or planned for.   Love,   Ryan

If you found my last post a downer -- I didn't really mean for it to be, hope this cheers you up. For the new year's my friend Brendan from Petoskey and his sister Christina came to visit. (she;s also my amiga). Here are some fun quotes:

"If I could imagine a place where people make a living by making chocolate it would be like this -- where are the Umpa Lumpas?" - Brendan Carson

"I like the music" -- Standard dominican phrase -- this is the first thing my friend, Bubba, (pronounced Bua) says to an American. If not this, then he would ask:"YOU like the Women?"Then brendan decided to teach him a new American phrase -- with an accent of course:"how much for zee vimen?"

Spose these are more funny if you are actually here. Here's a link to new pictures. No more time for blogging, I'lll write a better one later.

New Year, New Camara

Caribe Christmas   The past few weeks since Thanksgiving I think have been a good representation of what Peace Corps is supposed to be like in the best and ‘worst’ of ways.  During this Advent season, my mission in life has consisted of three goals:   1-Make friends with more people and perhaps remember their names 2-While making friends, try to maneuver so as to avoid having to eat three breakfasts, three lunches, and three dinners each day. 3-Accomplish something – when possible  (for example, when it’s not raining) – related to our water project   All three goals can be amazingly difficult to accomplish – or on other days, things will work out better than anyone could plan.  As a week passes – and they are passing very quickly – I usually think about what has happened and laugh at myself for having been sad, frustrated, or lonely one day, since the next day inevitably is perfect.  In the past I haven’t much believed in culture shock or simply the clash of cultures.  Whatever the case, I’m definitely pretty arrogant about being a pro at understanding how Latinos think/act. Now the more I learn and get used to how things work here, the less I understand them.  For instance, I mentioned about the rain.  It rained most of last week, which turns everything you walk on into mud.  Not unreasonably, Dominicans don’t like to go out to work / meet/ etc in the rain.  We had planned a water committee meeting for Monday, then switched to Tuesday.  Then it rained.  Not wanting to risk being irresponsible I went to visit some of the committee members to check if we would have the meeting.They told me that of course we would not. There was no need to tell anyone else, they simply would know not to go.  This is really all fine with me, however we then needed to reschedule the meeting.  So, in three days of rain, we rescheduled twice and never had a meeting – we’ll just wait till the new year.  Still, this is all fine.  What’s funny about it is that during the days we COULDN’T have a meeting because of the rain, we probably spent the same amount of time walking around in the mud cancelling and rescheduling as it would have taken to simply have the meeting.   Hospitality is also challenging.  The day before, friends from the neighboring community invited me to spend the day of Christmas Eve with them.  This was great because they always want me to eat lunch, dinner, or whatever there and I always try to decline since there is food waiting at home.  I told them to invite me in advance and they finally did. So when I arrived a bit late at midday, I was ready to eat.  However, a dilemma immediately presented itself.  The women who had invited me together had both cooked lunch.  The solution of course was for me to eat a ‘chin’ (cheen – little bit) at one house and the same at the other. So I ate two full meals.  Upon returning to the first house, the grandparents informed me that they had prepared dinner for me as well ‘when I got hungry’.  After losing about ten games of dominoes, I wasn’t really hungry but ate dinner anyways.  Fortunately, there was some super delicious rotisserie pork followed by rum with honey on ice. I went home to find more people who were concerned about whether or not I had eaten.  Late that night I visited a neighbor’s house where there were lots of kids and their aunts and uncles who had been drinking some really disgusting wine and were a bit tipsy. Sitting around in a cramped living room with loud children and tipsy aunts and uncles really reminded me of home!  I’m all out of order here, but the other most Christmas-like thing here was there celebration of Las Mañanitas (Early mornings).  As early as 4 in the morning every day in the week leading up to Christmas, kids get up and start banging a drum, singing/screaming christmas carols.  They walk from one community to the next, and when people hear the drum they get out of bed and throw on jackets and hats that would make you think it snows here and join the procession. The procession ends around six at sort of a community center where they then had a Mass every day at dawn. The whole thing feels sort of like an odd combination of church and mardi gras.  When mass ends, everyone drinks a plastic cup of homemade tea which is way too sweet, but still good.  The celebration ends with everyone throwing their plastic cups on the ground (since that’s where trash belongs, of course).   It is definitely a bit tough being away from home for Christmas for the first time, but I’ve been making up for it by taking advantage of Dominican Christmas traditions.  For instance – on Christmas day, the big event is cock fighting and live music in the afternoon.  I paid about three dollars – slightly more than the cost of a liter of beer to watch six chickens beat each other up. It’s really more interesting than it sounds.  At least the first half of a match is sort of beautiful, and the spectators/gamblers are equally entertaining.  After this, I walked up and down the highway for a couple hours with various teenage boys who are probably my best friends here, until we finally headed back up the street to the dance club – it’s name is ‘King Kong’, where I spent the night dancing and sipping weak Dominican beer.  So, however much I miss home and everyone there, at least I can be content to have watched cock fighting and danced on Christmas night for the first time (could be the last too, If I visit home next year, so I might as well enjoy it).   Sorry there are no pictures this time – my camera recently broke, but I’ll have a new one in a couple days.  Feel like I’ve written a lot and said nothing, but it’s hot inside and you’re probably tired of reading anyways.  As anyone would say who’s learning English:  “Happy Christmas”        

Feliz Día de Acción de Gracias   Yep, the title says it.  Happy Thanksgiving (the translation for the American holiday in Spanish really does sound as akward as it looks by the way).   I´m writing on a Thanksgiving Eve, actually.  I’ve returned to the capital for a couple of days. Tomorrow the Peace Corps has its own turkey day celebration. I’m sure the food won’t be quite as good as at Aunt Moe’s but I’ll deal with it.  On the upside, it’s less likely that the turkey will have whatever that sleepy chemical is.  This is important, since after dinner we have a talent show, dance competition (there are no thanksgiving dances as far as I know, so it will be salsa, bachata, and merengue).  Tentatively I’m partnered up to be in the competition, but we’ll see what actually happens.  I’d rather just dance.   I really wish I would have taken a picture of one of my family’s turkeys in front of some  tropical vegetation.  Mmmm turkey and bananas.  Just imagine.  I hope to talk or at least yell on the phone at family tomorrow, but if I can’t talk to you…  Feliz dia del Pavo!...   Getting back to my real life in the ‘campo’ ---  country living really is best.  Here’s some high and low points – sometimes simultaneously – sorry if I repeat anything from before.   Animals: The dog who’s tail my twelve year old friend accidentally shortened – mistaking it for a plantain – is doing fine, despite my failed splint to save the tip from falling off.   In the past week, a shameless ‘sin verguenza’ rat has taken up nighttime lodging in my house. Since it’s only the one, I’m sort of becoming used to it – does the same routine every night.  Part of the routine involves crawling up the wall/window behind the curtain at the foot of my bed.  This inspired me to name the critter ‘cosquillas’ = ‘ tickles’ in Spanish since at least once it brushed my foot while climbing up (don’t worry I had an impenetrable mosquito net and the curtain between me and it).  Nonetheless, I think the incident caused the furry gremlin babies to appear suddenly in my dream before I woke up and realized what was really going on.   However, I’m likely to get a kitten from a friend soon, which just may end my relationship with Cosquillas.   Work:  I’ve been working really hard.  This is considering that work and the rest of life are hopelessly intertwined in the Peace Corps.  My community and I have nearly finished preliminary fieldwork (surveying, flow measurements…), water system design, and a proposal/solicitation to take to the local government looking for support ($$$).  On that note, the project is projected to cost about RD$500,000 pesos which is a bit less that $15,000 USD.  We’ll look for money all over the place, but one of them is through donations directly to the project through peace corps, so if you’re interested in contributing, there will be an opportunity.   Man stuff:  Since getting a horse really is unnecessary for me, I bought myself a machete, hammer, and tape measure the other day.  Don’t worry, my main goal is not to hurt myself with any of them in two years – I’m fully aware of the hazards of self retracting steel tape measures.   Home Improvement, health, and vegetables:  I don’t get enough vegetables in my diet – really miss tomatoes, carrots, and such.  I’m not really sure where my drinking water comes from all the time – although I have yet to get sick.  So… once I get done with the busiest part of my design work in another month or so I’m going to start a garden, do rain harvesting from my roof, and build my own sand filter for drinking water.  Perhaps even paint the house.   Gordo!—My various host families are proud and would like my family and girlfriend at home to know that I’ve gotten ‘fatter’ here.  Which of course means I’m stronger and more attractive altogether buenmoso (a combination of the words ‘good’ and ‘beautiful’).  Now that I have proved that a man CAN gain weight in the peace corps (usually the opposite occurs), I’m cutting back on the rice while trying to get ridiculous amounts of exercise every day without ever ‘working out’.   Well, that ends my rant. I’ll try to write more for Christmas.

Hoooola,

Sorry it has been so long since I wrote anything. I´m finally in my permanent home for the next two years. It is a community of maybe 100 households near Altamira, Puerto Plata (province). You can find Altamira on google maps. It´s between the cities of Santiago and Puerto Plata.

So, the strangest thing that has happened is that my host mother died of a heart attack while I was in the capital for a week finishing training. Although I had hardly met her she was really nice and loved by the whole community. my host family and the community are finishing up the fairly intense nine day mourning process tomorrow. The ninth day event is called a vela (candle...). I´ll try to report on what it was like later on, at the very least we´re expecting about 400 people to be there. The family killed two pigs this morning for the event, which was interesting.

I have a house sort of two myself next to my host family. My host brother, Manuel, stays with me and sleeps in the second bed. He and everyone else in the very large extended family are very nice, feed me too much, and have made me feel very at home. I´ve begun my project sort of slowly because of the death of my Doña, but none the less, it´s going well. We´ve measured the flow in the water source, visited lots of homes, and had some water comittee meetings.

Some of the more fun things i´ve done include climbing an orange tree to ´tumbar´- tumble oranges to the ground, collected plantains, learn to chop firewood dominican style, and yesterday helped rebuild a letrine. Today I´m in Altamira to get some money to pay ´rent´, buy a machete and measuring tape hopefully, and use some internet. It´s a beautiful motorcycle ride between my community and Altamira up and down the small hills-mountains on a rural paved road. The economy in the area seems to depend a lot on harvesting cacao and coffee beans from the forest. So I regularly drink amazing hot chocolate and coffee. I´m going to try to process my own chocolate and coffee from start to finish.

well, gotta go, I´ll have to send some pictures later.

'Ryan

www.flickr.com/photos/42992225@N06/

Some picures of the water volunteer group´s latest adventures. see you in a couple weeks.

'ryan

I've come down from the mountains for the day to write to you all.  our technical training is in a small community called Mancebo in the 'Cordillera Central' (the largest of the the mountain ranges. We're surrounded by cactus, palm, and pine trees all in close proximity. It's much cooler here. We actually feel cold at night sometimes!!!!  The people are great, pretty much all farmers working a mix of subsistence agriculture and potato contracts with Frito Lay. Frito Lay potatoes are really great mashed by the way.  There is a nearby river where I can bath daily, sometimes we jump off the cliffs from a waterfall into the charcos (natural pools).  The community is mostly older dominicans, young kids, and migrant Haitian workers. Despite a steep gender disparity (at least 2:1 men to women) the community is really easy going and fun.  The dominicans are finally starting to believe or realize that I really can speak spanish and the Haitians have been pretty fun all along. I learn creol with a couple of haitians in return for teaching them some english. We use Spanish as the go between language to translate (of course).

I eat enormous proportions of food daily.  The families we live with are somewhat overcompensated perhaps for our meals. I get an enormous plate of beans and rice for lunch with various sattelite dishes everday.  for breakfast or dinner I sometimes get fresh, hot cow's milk with various delicious things in it. This week we'll start the construction part of our training. we're going to learn to build a spring box., water tank, latrine, and river crossing among other things.  Gotta go, I'll try to put up a picture of the view from my host family's cook house.

The ridiculously over-structured (but worthwhile) part of my training is coming to a close. Tomorrow I'll head north a bit to the mountains near San Jose de Ocoa for community based training. This goes til almost the end of october when I'll begin my real service.  In the second part of training we'll be doing more training related to the water and sanitation projects I actually be working on. Of course, we'll keep learning more spanish, etc. Mostly what I know is that it will be colder (good), it's a community of about 200 people, and it's a pretty area. I'll tell you more when I experience it. This past week I spent thursday through sunday visiting a current water volunteer.   On friday we spent the morning in the trenches digging and placing a water line.  It's really impressive what a crew of 10 men can do in 5 hrs with just pickaxes and shovels (and of course, lots of food).  As usual, I got some wicked blisters on my hands, but they're better now.  Mark (the volunteer I visited -- from Holland, Michigan) has been at site for a year.  Friday was the fourth day of construction, so it was an exciting time to be there.

On saturday, we took a 1 1/2 hr hike through the mountains (sort of like walking in michigan forests -- just with really big leaves, lizards, and bigger climbs).  Anyways, after up down, and down a river we arrived at aguas largas (long waters). It was a site of a previous volunteer who left just weeks ago.  We had to troubleshoot a solar pump that brings water to the higher parts of the community.  As is the case for most good work, we were rewarded with an awesome meal of rice, beans, chicken and an avocado that tasted like butter.  On our hike back, slightly more tired, we stopped at los caraballos, another volunteer community where the spring box (collects water from the spring) had been damaged by a landslide.  Anyways, the hike was beautiful, and it was great to have seen three different possible living and working situations for me over the next couple years.  To put things in perspective, water volunteers, by definition are placed in communities that do not have running water. As this is generally considered basic infrastructure, it is also uncommon for these communities to have electricity or phone service. As such, they may to be some of the prettiest communities with trustworthy and down to earth people.

One thing that was funny, in Pies de los Picos, Mark, who would be called Marco in standard spanish, is referred to as Maico.  Some dominican accents have a tendency to switch the 'r' for an 'i' or 'l' sound.  Anyways, Maico sounds more like michael, so I wasn't even sure at first if Mark was his real name.

Well, I've got to get home and pack for my move tomorrow. We're going to a 'Car Wash' this evening before the volunteer groups go there different ways.  Car Washes have evolved here as social scenes where people have their cars washed by day and dance, drink, and hang out at night. Apparently people even wash cars as the festivities go on, although I haven't seen this. It's a pretty fun concept and an efficient use of space.

I'll leave a couple of pictures from my visit with Mark. I promise to post some eventually of me with host family(s), volunteers, and so on.  later...

Hey,

so I've been here a few weeks now.  I'm trying to get in a few words and a picture, and then walk home before a rainstorm hits. I'm finishing up the first part of my training in the capital city of Santo Domingo. I've been living with a wonderful host family who make sure to get me my daily ration of fruits and various carbohydrates (plantains, bananas, yucca, plantains, etc).  Fortunately they're also way into beans which they call habichuelas, not frijoles. Chickens are our favorite animal to bite into. they're sort of a pet and food source in my neighborhood.

Improving my spanish and more importantly learning to understand and speak like Dominicans, who are known for a pretty strong and difficult to follow accent has gone well.  As usual, guys are the hardest to understand.  Evidence of my improvement is that I can now joke with my host father, Milongo and his son who lives near by.  At first I could hardly understand a word of the 'old man' style or 'street' style dominican spanish.  Our neighborhood is I think the way a neighborhood is supposed to be. everyone knows eachother and social activities break out unexpectedly.

one of my favorite activities has been chatting outside the house with neighbors/relatives/ peace corps friends while waiting for the electricity to come back on at night.  the electricity is important just to keep the fans going to make sleeping better.  I've played a bit of baseball both in the street and on a field mostly with other volunteers and/or young kids.  I'm pretty good at dominoes (for an Americano -- still need to get better at counting the tiles).  I think I'm probably on par with the average Dominican dude at dancing bachata and merengue.  Besides being a lot of fun in itself, knowing latin american music and how to dance to it seems to be an easy way to make conversation and gain respect -- since they assume americans can't dance.

My training thus far has been a lot like school. I walk about 1/2 an hour everyday to a training center among various school children and other ridiculous looking gringos and then have various lessons throughout the day. The big differences are that our classes are outside in ramadas (huts -- sort of) and the school lunch is awesome - although there is no grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Tomorrow I'm traveling north, past Santiago to a place near Altamira in the mountains to visit a current water volunteer and learn more about my future service. I'll be there thru the weekend and then later next week I'll begin technical, community based training in a different mountainous region more to the south. besides more spanish and cultural stuff, we'll learn (and build) water and sanitation infrastructure for a community that needs water, etc. It's sort of like practice for our individual projects.

My actual service begins at the end of october. not til then will I know exactly where I'll be for the next 2 years.

Anyways, gotta get home before the donya gets too worried.  In summary, yes it's hot here, I sweat a ton every day, but I feel super healthy; the people are great; certainly different and similar enough to Mexicans or Bolivians or whoever to keep me happy. how's that for grammar.  I'll try to throw in an insufficient picture of something here. hasta luego!

Well, as a few of my peers already have super nice blogs started for their Peace Corps assignments, I figured I'd get one going too. I have just a couple weeks left now, and of course, I'm finding all kinds of things I wish I would have gotten done earlier. I have yet to buy some clothing and other stuff I'll probably regret bringing, sell my car, deal with my cell phone contract, and decide what to bring with me to the island. I've really gotten a lot done this summer, and most importantly; I've really enjoyed spending time at home and at school with so many of the people I love and will miss over the next couple years.

I have been doing some cultural training as well. Occasionally I find time to dance a merengue, make absurd comments in Spanish to people who don't understand them, throw a baseball, or hit rocks on the beach with a stick.

Despite fenomenal gastronomic explorations, my goal to fatten up over the summer has gone nowhere. At the very least, working with my dad, commuting on my bike, and windsurfing have probably got me in a little better shape..

Well, I'll post a picture of me having fun in Paradise so you can understand why I don't feel like writing more at the moment. I promise a more epic beginning to my story later on including more details of where I'm going and what I'll be doing.