Do you remember when you were in elementary school and you went on a field trip? The teachers crowded 300 kids into a single bus, cramming 4 in every 2 seats, children sitting on laps, people standing in the aisles, handing out dramamine to the ones who get vomity...

No? That's how my first field trip was in the country with the school (several years ago...) The children had so much fun, I decided to take some kids to hang out in the capital. These children are ones I've had long relationships with, some I taught to read, some have been to my house for pancake parties, one set of parents offered my parents a goat the next time they return, and all are from very poor families. Most had never been to the capital.

First, we crammed into the bus on the way to the capital. Then we got to use the metro, which was very exciting. Of course, the kids had to use the restroom, but we got special permission to use the private metro bathrooms (I think the guards felt sorry for me). Let me describe the experience of helping 5 children use an escalator for the first time: Alicia, kid in hand, gets on escalator going down. Alicia then runs up stairs to collect next child, who is also afraid of mounting escalator. Rinse and repeat until all children are clutching the side of the downward moving monster, huge grins on their faces.

The metro was a hit, and we hadn't even gotten to the fun part. I felt like giving someone a present and they're more interested in the wrapping paper than in the gift. We tried to go to the cinema, but they don't open until nighttime here, so instead we went to a park that overlooked the seashore.

We enjoyed looking at the crabs scuttling around the rocks, and I think they liked their first view of the ocean, but, if anyone knows kids, they know that they eat and drink and pee like crazy, so we had to introduce the food element. So we went to McDonalds! The kids got happy meals, and we played with the cardboard milk mustache cutouts they came with. Some highlights of this phase: Kids learned about automatic hand dryers, soap dispensers, and that "chicken nuggets" look nothing like the chicken they are used to eating (which is freshly killed, cooked, and on the bone).

After eating and playing with Happy Meal toys, an employee called us a cab. The driver was kind enough to joke with the kids, drive us past a huge Christmas tree, and take us to the zoo. Memorable hightlight: Enrique learning how to operate door handle of car. While the car was moving. Like I said, we had a really nice driver.

The zoo was fun, we saw hippos and primates and birds and reptiles and played on see-saws and slides and drank, ate, and went to the bathroom. Another taxi (not so nice this time, but we were experts at the sitting and not opening doors part) took us to an ice cream store!

The ice cream was a nice touch, as kids apparently wither up and float away if they are not fed every hour. I gained a lot of respect for the patience of my parents this trip. The kids picked out thier own flavors, and the employee was nice enough to help them say please and thank you (and let us use the employee bathroom). As we were leaving, he took a picture of us, and asked if I was a Peace Corps volunteer. When I asked him how he knew, he said "it's stamped on your forehead."

Finally, how do you know if your trip has been a success? When the kids are sleeping on the bus ride home. So cute when they're sleeping, and not asking to be fed, watered, or taken to the restroom...

I'm leaving the country in 10 days, hopefully, but this one particular day of around 1,000 days here was one of the best.

The best day of my life? No one can say for sure, since I don't remember every day of my life. I've had some good birthdays, I love every Thanksgiving, acceptance letters have been nice, and my friends and family so wonderful that good days aren't hard to come by.

However, the best day of my life (I think) happened the day after my last post, when I finally made it home to Don Juan.

Here's how it went: After traveling to Don Juan by gua-gua(minivan bus) I get off at the motorcycle stop to see my favorite motorcycle chofer waiting for his next passenger. His nickname, by the way, is Peito, or "Little farty." It doesn't bother me while we're driving along though!

We zoom along, me holding on for dear life (it had been awhile since I'd ridden a motorcycle). As we turn into my neighborhood, my next door neighbor Dariel, who is playing with a rock, jumps up and screams "ALICIA! LLEGO ALICIA!" This kid has a cute grin, and this day was no different. He sprinted alongside the motorcycle, screaming the whole time, calling other kids out of their houses. By the time I got off of the motorcycle, there were 20 little children screaming my name (and several women). The kids helped me carry my bookbag.

And guess who was sitting on the couch waiting for me? Denny (my cat).

I sat down because I'm not as strong as I was in my youth, and am soon plied with a baby. My other neighbor (a 2 year old girl) wraps herself around my legs. The kids seem at a loss for words (which has never happened), and are staring at me as I start leaking from my eyes. The house had been cleaned (oh, wonder of wonders), and several of them tell me how they helped "I swept! I took the trash out! Look where we put this game! Look at this folder here!" The 2 year old takes the place of the baby (mercifully, as she had the "I have to pee" look about her), and my neighbor pops in with lunch- beans, rice, and some sort of meat. I share with her daughter, and the kids show me the welcome home sign the art teacher made for me.

The excitement dies down, and as some kids leave, others begin to start playing. Soon, my Peace Corps friend Angela stops by with a family that I was going to take to Family Camp (they were able to go without me) and another woman from the neighborhood, who begins to sweep and mop my floor. We all share some sweet, cold soda straight from the udder of the colmado, and they tell me about how amazing the camp was. When the women leave, me and my friend share some fried platanos and guacamole she had made me.

She left and kids came back in to hang out, other women stopping by occasionally to say hello.

Over the next couple of days I made it into the school, saw some of my students, and had many happy reunions. Needless to say, even though I can't work to my full capacity, it was well worth it to return; I hope all of you get a day like I received.

Paz,

Alicia

A few months ago, I started running to "be healthier" (lose weight). Whilst running, I encountered the most formidable opponent I have encountered in the Dominican Republic.

What was it? It must have been pretty bad, to be worse than poverty, a broken educational system, blatant political corruption, machismo, and loose bowels.

It was a mosquito. The little sucker bit me, and left me with a gift to remember him by: the gift of Dengue Fever. Awesome.

It was a gift because friends come out of the woodwork when one is really sick. The priest, Fr. Ron, paid his driver to take me to the capital AND visited me as I was clutching a bed pan waiting to vomit. It takes a good friend to do that. The art teacher came in from the school and told me about the fun things we’re going to do when I get better (most involve dancing and Presidente). My neighbor called several times and offered to take care of the love of my life (my cat Denny), and more called me and told me they wanted to clean my house. Which, of course, made me think “Why in the heck didn’t I get sick sooner? People are lining up to clean my house for me!” The principle of the school came by and told me all of the students were praying for me.

Pretty much every volunteer in (and out) of the vicinity came by to visit, bringing clothes, flowers, magazines, and positive energy. My supervisor made several visits, and the Peace Corps doctors got together a team of medical miracle workers. Plus, I had no less than 2 aunts and uncles come visit, and both of my parents flew in to see me.

Finally when I had been poked, prodded, drained and re-filled, x-rayed and bruised and iced and scanned and really everything you can think of, they let me out.

And so here is what I got: a 3-week, all expenses paid recovery vacation at home. A new appreciation for freedom (no IV, oxygen, pulse, blood pressure machines anchoring me down). A new appreciation for everything I can eat and drink. Realization of how nice people often are (and of how many wonderful people there are in the world).

And, of course, due to the Dengue Diet, I did lose some weight…guess the running worked after all. Ha ha. hem. (Of course, my family did ply me with food nonstop once I could eat again…and it was good.)

So now, friends, I am back in Santo Domingo. Tomorrow I head for Don Juan, and I am going to try to make the most out of the time I have left here. Due to medical complications, I can only stay until mid-January instead of the summer, so I am going to use the next 60 days to do all of the stuff I have talked about doing, but never have done yet.

Some examples (feel free to add your own suggestions):

Taking some children who have never been to the capital to see a movie in a theatre!

Going dancing in the city of Monte Plata!

Horseback riding!

Making the reading manual better than ever!

Training teachers to use the manual!

Teaching some youth a business course!

Baking lots of things with lots of different kids!

Teaching my neighbors to play Chinese Checkers!

Eating free beans and rice every day for lunch!

Drinking Presidente when and where I feel like it- no need to project a perfect picture of myself anymore!

As always, visitors are welcome until I leave. I cannot wait to go see my goddaughter, friends, neighbors, and cat (mostly the cat, I must say). Hope you all are healthy, well, and full of energy!

-Alicia

2 months have passed, and I have been jolted out of my non-blogging reverie rather violently by none other than a pack of vicious, disgusting, killer...moths.

Yes, you heard me right. Some find them beautiful. I find them disgusting.

The recent rains (I use "rains" broadly to mean hurricanes) have made me hostess to lots of new friends- large spiders, small spiders, ants, the norm...and the aforementioned spawn of you-know-who. They started out so innocently. A little cocoon here, a little cocoon there, a little heavy rains, and holey moley there are 1,000 of those suckers plastered to my concrete walls. Yesterday, as I was trying to blissfully drift off to sleep after a long, rainy day, I was awoken when something flew into my face. I slapped it- a knee-jerk reaction- into my face, and had moth guts all over my cheek. That'll teach me. A normal person then would have gotten up and washed her face, but I had no water inside the house (I forgot to put the bucket out when it was raining), so I wiped the guts off with my hand and placed them on the side of my mattress. Something ate them in the middle of the night, so now I don't even have to clean up a mess.

Is that gross? My apologies. Have I mentioned my luxury cabin is still open for visitors?

In other news, school has started! I was loving my summer- visiting nearby volunteers, working on grants and emails and literacy manual in the capital, spending quality time with my cat, and coloring and baking with my kiddies, but the free time was really making me antsy. Today I went in and got a list of students who need to learn to read from the teachers, so that on Monday I can jump right in to my last year (sniff!) of teaching kids to read at the school. There are a few who have been working with me for 2 years- my time is running out! But I am very excited.

Outside of school, one of my youth groups is having a graduation this Sunday. They will be presenting a drama and 2 dances, and I will be presenting them with diplomas and cake. It should be lots of good, loud fun.

At long last, the literacy manual I have been pouring my heart and soul into the past couple of months is finished! It is a compilation of activities and worksheets that I have used to teach kids to read, available for volunteers across the country! Just think: a country of literate children. That would be incredible! Goes to show that, even if the government is not willing to shell out for education, a few motivated people can overcome!

On to other things: Latrines: Still waiting for funding. Check back soon. Cholera still a problem. The wait...is...unbearable! Moreso for the families than for me.

Basketball courts: Still fundraising. Those suckers are so expensive! Many thanks for all of the work of Mrs. Manteiga's class, though. You all are AMAZING to help out children you've never met in a country you've never been to! Whomever says that kids can't make a difference is WRONG! You all ROCK!

Sandals: Still breaking. But I did walk bearfoot the other day, because one of my youth's sandals broke, and I didn't want her to feel so embarrassed about walking around barefoot. Big mistake. Those dirt roads are more rock than dirt after all the rains, and, well, my lillies are tender.

Cat: Healthy, his "girlfriend," the kitten, turns out to be a boy, after all. Looks like kitten was using us for the catfood.

Oh, also, finally, I'm a Godmother! I am very nervous- I had an amazing Godfather (Uncle Clark), and I really want to provide the same kind of support for Darianni. There isn't much pressure from this end, as godparents here usually do...nothing. So at least my best efforts will be meeting expectations here. Anyways, her name is, as I mentioned, Darianni, she is 1, she can't say anything but she walks a lot, she is in diapers and loves Dominican food, and whenever she sees me she cries unless I hold her. Which means she likes me, I think, or that she likes being held, which is probably closer to the truth. They really follow a different childcare ideology here, which has been a little challenging at first, but I do my best to absorb the culture and share mine, as well. For example: "In my family, they usually never let us pick up rocks from outside and put them in our mouths. You know. Germs and all. I bet she'll have a really strong stomach!"

Will blog soon, because I will have more to blog about. Hopefully some reading successes or at least something that smells faintly of not-failing.

Live long and prosper!

Hello everyone.

I hope you all are enjoying your summers. Whether or not you get some vacation time, it is always nice to go out into the heat and soak up some vitamin D and UVA/B rays. My skin is so tan that I look like I use a bottle of that spray-on tan. Which of course I don't, because I'm a volunteer and I'd rather spend the money on good food.

To get on with the updates...

The past few days I have been getting up early in the morning to go running. The road is terrible, but the views (when I'm not staring at the ground because I've tripped) are incredible. One day, after running with a friend(I leave around 6, get back around 7:30; there's a considerable amount of walking and talking involved) I was so tired, I just wanted to sleep again. Which I can do, because it's summer. It just so happened, though, that the faucet outside of my house had running water. Not one to let a good opportunity go by, and also because I had absolutely no water in the house, I decided that I would collect some water, and then take a nap. During the process of water collection, however, my next door neighbor Dariel poked his head in and asked if he could color. He's such a nice helper that I said yes, thinking I'd kick him out when I got the water. But then his mom said "Alicia, I'm leaving, he'll stay with you for the morning." Great. So of course all the other kids see Dariel and come in to play too. Fine; one of them helps me wash my dishes, which is cool.

This is when the fun begins. My mom had suggested that I let the kids convert the jungle behind my house into a garden. Behind every house in my neighborhood is a large plot, and many families use that area to plant plantains, yuca, and other food. I have not done so because I don't really have that much free time during the school year and when I do I'd rather do something less productive, like watch Glee on my computer. Previously, I had ran the garden idea past the kids and they were super excited. So we're playing in the house and one of them asks when we can start on the garden. Figuring I'm not going to get to sleep any time soon, I suggest that we begin then and there.

Me and the kiddies all stomp out to my backyard. Recently I had paid some guy to machete everything (because my neighbor told me I had to because there were snakes living in my backyard and she didn't want them near her baby). He chopped most stuff down, but left all the clippings. In the US, we'd probably get big trash bags, fill them with the clippings, and leave them on the curb. In the DR, you make piles of the clippings and burn them. Well that is easier said than done, considering the huge amount of clippings, the fact that it rains every day, and the fact that the people working on this are me, who knows nothing about this stuff, and a bunch of 11-year-old kids. So for the past couple of days we've been burning for a few hours, and I hope to finish this week. Anyways, it's all good, dirty fun. The kids decided who would pick up the horse poop for fertilizer (there's plenty lying around) and that we'd plant black beans, corn, plantains, oregano, and avocado. It's their garden, really, so we'll see how it works. I also think I'm going to try to get ahold of a swing or something; that would be fun.

Anyways, that day I did get a little nap in after lunch, but was woken up by a kid who I'm tutoring during the summer. Really though, I'd rather a kid know how to read than me get a nap. And that's the end of my no sleep story.

You all might remember that last year I took some boys to Camp Superman. I took them again this year- 5 days sleeping outdoors, bathing in rivers, peeing on trees and doing other stuff in latrines, learning to say please and thank you and wash dishes and play nice and work together and generally to be little supermen. The camp was going wonderfully until the last day. It started raining in the afternoon; some of the boys were painting masks they had made, and others were playing sports. The boys finished their painting, and it started raining a little heavier. As it was the last day, and the boys were loving playing in the rain, we let them continue playing. Since the camp site was largely dirt, soon we were surrounded by mud. Of course, the playing evolved into mud slinging, which was also fine; they were dirty anyways, and they all played nice (we had worked hard on discipline and respect that week). Then the rain turned into a torrential downpour. We handed out soap, and we all showered in the rain, which was cool, when we, the volunteers, realized that the boys' tents had all flooded, and that a lot of their clothes were wet.

Uh oh.

There really wasn't a section in our training labeled "What to do when you're running a boys' camp and it starts pouring and you only have one partial shelter and no dry clothes and don't really know much about camping in the first place." Luckily, some of the volunteers had had experience camping. We crowded all 42 kids under the one covered area (sticks holding up a tin roof), after telling them to get all their stuff out of their tents. We set up a tarp and a foot washing station under the roof, and hung up their wet stuff in the rafters and on clotheslines outside (still in the downpour; we assumed the stuff would dry during the night). The kids were awesome and really just waited huddled under the roof for awhile; we taught them to play Heads Up 7-Up and Simon Says. When the rain FINALLY stopped we ate dinner (the campo had killed 2 pigs for us), and had a reflection ceremony about the camp. In the meantime, camp workers nailed rice-sack cloth to the sides of the "shelter," making it a big tent. We congratulated the kids, telling them that in camp superman history, no group had ever been able to sleep all together in one big tent. One volunteer read them a good night story, and we all went to sleep (well, the kids did, and we were kept awake by the thunder and rain and fear that the big tent would also flood).

All in all, it worked out fine, and I was very grateful for the fact that PC volunteers are some of the most creative, flexible, energetic people I've ever worked with. And for all the kids know, we planned the rainstorm, and it was awesome.

That's all for now; soak up some rays and keep it real!

-Alicia

I realize that I still haven't written about the most adrenaline- filled experience of my time here in the DR.

Was it the time I jumped off of a cliff next to a waterfall? Nope. The time I flew off a rope swing into a lagoon of water? Nope. The time I was chased by a man holding a machete? Uh-uh. The time I found myself in between a hulking ogre of a woman and her child (whom she wanted to keep beating)? Not even close. Okay, think. Adrenaline. Surely, the time I skidded down my steep hill to school and landed covered in mud. Wrong again.

So, what was it? A few weeks ago, Fr. Ron had his 50th anniversary of being a priest (pause now for awe and applause...). It was really an amazing, elegant ceremony, and a ton of people (literally) turned out to give thanks to the man who has done so much for the Dominican Republic (I know. Kinda puts 2 measly years into perspective). I decided to help the teachers serve the honored guests (priests, sisters, and politicians), and then I piled into one of the teacher's husband's cars to start dropping off people. All was going well, until the battery stalled. Not many people know too much about cars, as not many people have cars, so some men did something to get it going again, and she decided to turn the air and radio on (even though I mentioned that maybe it wasn't a good idea). Whatever. So we keep driving, drop off another lady, and have to go up a hill to get back to our neighborhood. We start driving up the hill, make it to almost the top....and then the car starts rolling backwards. Fast. The brakes aren't working, she pulls on the emergency brake, nothing happens, we're rolling and screaming and I've assumed the "duck and cover" position in the back seat, thinking the whole time "My Dad is going to KILL me if I die in a car crash in the middle of some campo in the Dominican Republic." The woman steers us up a small hill (off the road) and luckily we avoid backing into a drop over a river and also avoid a large concrete light pole.

As people see this happening, they begin running, and we have quite a crowd watching us crawl out of the car. One woman starts screaming "Gracias a Dios! Gracias a Dios!" (Thank God, Thank God).

That is a picture of a bunch of guys trying to push the car off the hill she drove up in order to save our lives.

They never really figured out what was wrong with the car, but that night her husband fixed it, and the teacher and I had some beers and listened to bachata because, we figured, we had better enjoy the lives we have.

But, what does that have to do with falling and not getting back up? That's another story, that I will tell now. I figure the theme of today's blog can be bad things that have happened to Alicia but turned out okay.

So here's the falling story: I was on a bus (that I had waited for over an HOUR to catch), and it started pouring. My trip was to check out a potential site (the one I wrote about last time, that had sent a member to drop off their volunteer solicitation). The girl from that site had agreed to meet me with a motorcycle driver, because you really can't just hop on any motorcycle when you're going into the middle of nowhere. I get to where I need to get let off, and because my shoes are so worn and the floor is so wet, I wipe out and fall on the edge of the bus step. Now my butt hurts, I'm soaking, and my pants are dirty. So much for a good impression. So, blah blah blah, I finish the site visit, wait 2 hours for the bus to come back, get home, am late for my meeting, go to bed. A few days later I'm in a conference at a hotel, you know, where there are lights and large mirrors, and I happen to glance at my butt. Well, wouldn't you know it's black and blue! I have a black and blue butt! It is so gross. But, really, what's the point of having a gross butt if you can't even tell anyone about it? So now I've told the world. Also, it hurt a little for a couple of days, but now it doesn't anymore.

Other cute stories not relating to me getting hurt: I drink water out of a big 5-gallon jug (like most people here, since the water isn't potable), purified by the Alaska company. Yesterday, one of my neighbors saw in my Time magazine a picture of Alaska. He asked if I was from there, I said no and showed him Alaska on my map, and then he asked how they ship all that water down from Alaska! And why all the water in Alaska is so clean! Kids being literal is so cute.

Also, today I heard my baby neighbor saying "ooooh!" every 10 seconds. I went outside to check out what was going on, and she was huddling into her mother who was giving her a bucket bath. The water was cold, so she kept squealing every time it got poured on her....sooooo cute!

Last night I colored with about 10 kids by candlelight. Around 8: 10, as I was kicking them out, a mother came screaming at her 2-year-old (I had been coloring with him). "Why didn't you come when I called you?! D****o, c**o!" Now, keep in mind mothers generally let their children wander around the neighborhood, not really knowing where they are (the boys, that is). So me, after having spent a night of hearing or breaking up child beatings, I said to the mom "I guess you should have followed your kid or paid attention so that you would have known where he was! He's only 2!" But with a smile on my face so that she would not beat him and also so that she'll let him back in my house, because he likes it there. But on the inside, I was raging. I hate laziness. And, really? Letting your two-year-old son wander around, not knowing where he is, and then screaming at him? Just so that you can sit at home and gossip with your neighbors? geesh.

In a few days, my favorite siblings (that is, all of them!) are coming to town! It's better than santa clause!

Dios les bendiga,

Alicia

Today in the office, I saw what I supposed was a little rodent running about. Imagine my surprise when the rodet turned out to be a cute big iguana! Perhaps "cute" isn't the best word to describe my reptilian friend, but it was really interesting looking.

Other things that I am seeing: lots and lots of rain. Every day. Evidently, the April Showers decided to last until May. And probably longer. It's neat because I get to cancel all of my meetings after school. Why is that? Well, if nobody has a car, and the roads are muddy and impassible by motorcycle, and the women can't get their hair wet, and the men don't want to get wet either...there's just really no way anyone is showing up to a meeting. So, some forced relaxation!

The rains are bringing lots and lots more green. Where I live in Monte Plata is so green- before the rains. Now everything is brighter, grass-like plants are taller than children, the flowers are beeeeautiful. On the downside, the river has flooded a few times, making a nearby bridge unpassable, my feet get muddy, and there are lots of flying ants and mosquitoes (both of which bite). But the muddy feet part doesn't really bother me...they're usually dusty or muddy.

Let's keep going with neat things I've seen. A few days ago, a "gang" of around 20 neighborhood boys "rode" past on their "horses" (branches). In the rain and their underwear. Hahahah!

Today was a lovely day at the school, even though I wasn't there for too long. I went to pick up a student from his class to work with him, and his teacher said he'd been sent to the office because he was misbehaving. So I went there, and he had the decency to look embarrassed, and I took him to work with him...and wouldn't you know it, today we finished all the letters. The art teacher with whom I share an office space used to be his 2nd grade teacher, and she started jumping around and hugging him when he read her a complicated sentence. I almost started crying, and he got to write his name down on the list of students invited to the literacy party at the end of the year. I think I have worked harder with this one particular child than most this year (since February). Incidently, this child is also part of a family that got a latrine this January. His sister always helps him with his homework because his parents are never around. Nice kid, except for his tendancy to get into fights when I'm not looking over his shoulder.

Anyways, after that really awesome experience, a visitor from a community around 2-hours away came to see me. This community is soliciting a new PC volunteer, and hopefully they get one. They are so excited about the prospect, and have really motivated all of their community organizations to work together and fill out a form soliciting a volunteer, and have found homes where he/she can live. It's exciting to work with a group of people who really want their youth to have some opportunities, and I hope that they can get a new volunteer!

Just to clarify, this is how the system works (usually): community hears of PC or PC makes initial visit, community decides if it wants a volunteer and what he/she could do, community solicits volunteer, PC prepares community (and trains volunteer) volunteer goes to community! That way, volunteers aren't dumped in communities that don't know what to do with them (hopefully), and, since communities have had to work a little for a volunteer, they're more likely to work a little with them (also hopefully).

The last part of this particularly lovely morning: I had McDonalds. We never really were a fast-food eating family, but still. I don't remember the last time a burger has tasted this good.

Today I'm walking with the neighborhood youth group up to see the other youth group; my girls are going to give them a lesson on discrimination! It should be fun. Also, Sunday is Mother's Day here; we're having a party saturday and sunday to raise funds for the basketball courts we're trying to build here.

Speaking of courts...if anyone knows anyone who would like to contribute to the Basketball Court fund, all they have to do is send a check to the El Portal de Belen Foundation, to the following address, and earmark it "for the basketball court." The organization is a registered non-profit, started by the American priest in Don Juan.

El Portal de Belén Foundation

c/o Greg Calvin, Treasurer

51 Waterview Heights

Ithaca, NY 14850

Also, I hear that raising funds for a basketball court in the DR is a great service-learning project! On a different note, if you are a teacher or work with children and would like to start up a letter exchange program, let me know! I'm always looking for ways to get my children here to think about life outside of their small community, and I suspect it would be a great learning experience for your students to learn about life here!

Thanks for reading!

Alicia

Check it out! That is me dancing with one of my youth! We are at a fundraiser bakesale/dance. I was content to count money and stare at the sweets, but she forced me to do a bachata. This picture is difitely not staged...

Fundraising efforts are slowly but surely sucking up every drop of my free time, but perhaps in the end it'll be worth it. If not, then, well, at least my kids will know how to raise money in a transparent fashion. Taken from actual conversations: "No, we cannot use money for the basketball court to buy our group t-shirts." "Yes, everyone has to pay. It's a bake-SALE. Yes, even your mom's friend." "No, you cannot buy a beer at our bakesale-you are underage, and a beer costs the price of like 5 cups of juice! And we don't even get any proceeds from beer!"

As you can see. A learning curve.

It's starting to get hot hot hot outside. That means only one thing...Alicia is getting stinky, stinky, stinky. Especially since my method of cleaning my clothes- the washer at the PC office- has finally bitten the dust. Again. Too bad my little travel-size spray bottle of Febreeze isn't larger...

The heat also means that soon, noone can tell me when, exactly, summer break will start! Woohoo! This means a whole lot of new projects: A science camp, a construct your dreams course (where youth who want to learn business principles, basic accounting, and have an idea for a business learn how to do it, write up an official proposal, and submit their proposals to compete against other proposals, potentially winning the grand prize of the start up money for their business!), a new youth group in another region (though I refuse to help them build anything until I finish up with what I'm in now), and sweating. None of that matters right now, though, as I'm still in school. Just dreaming about the future.

Speaking of school. Yesterday, some punk threw chewed popcorn at me. Gross. But that negative was balanced by the positive of one of my kids who told me a month ago he wanted to quit learning to read (so I let him) came back and we've almost clenched literacy! Whoooohoo! You can throw all the chewed-up popcorn at me that you want if it means that I'll get a literate kid out of the mix.

Here's something cute: the baby next door calls me "she-sha!" Here's something not cute: She's decided she likes me, so she'll walk over when I'm home, dump out the stuff I keep in the front for the kids to play with (crayons and coloring books and such) and walk over my clean floor that is still wet with mop water in her grimy, cute little feet. I feel like this could be something resembling karma for the way I behaved when I was a child, but, as we all know I was a saint. So, really, she's just a rotten little adorable baby who can walk. Does that make her a toddler? I guess so.

Here's something not cute: My cat (who is cute) has decided that, instead of killing stuff now, he'll just bat it around until it gets angry and decides to go for ME. This is not fair, as I have no killer claws or instinct. However, I do have raid, and I'm not afraid to pull that trigger.

Finally some DR facts:

All kids have to wear a uniform to school. It's the same uniform for all public schools: khaki pants, light blue polo shirt. Jeans and a different color shirt for private schools. It's useful, because you can always identify who's a student, and there's no judging based on what someone's wearing. Which brings me to fact number 2. Women in my campo are ALWAYS looking at what I'm wearing, and commenting on whether it makes me look fat, whether it's wrinkled, whether it's stained, torn, new, cute, etc. I've started looking at what I put on before putting it on, and even matching my earrings with my clothes. Sometims. This country is changing me.

Finally, here are the types of animal fights they have in my campo:

Dog (illegal)

Rooster (legal)

Beta fish (legal)

Beetle (not joking) (legal)

I've tried to avoid all of them, but maybe have partaken in a beetle fight. It's ok, they usually fly away before anything actually gets hurt.

If I had posted this on the 4th, I would sign off saying

"May the fourth be with you!"

HAHAHAHA.

-alicia

Oh my mother. Maybe something is lost in the translation of that phrase, but it basically means "Ay Dios Mio!" You all know that one. The phrase is perfect, because this weekend I was at family camp!

Family camp? Why wasn't I invited, you might be asking if you're in my family. Because it was a camp for other families! I got to bring two families from my town- one from my neighborhood, and another from a nearby batey. It was awesome! Think, 4 days of mothers actually spending time with their children (they almost never get to here), eating 3 meals a day together, playing together (something the NEVER do) being responsible for knowing where their children are, learning about each other...it was magical. I love family.

Of course, it was also a little difficult. As I'm sure you all can imagine, if you're not used to hanging out with someone, it might be a little difficult to get along...and it was, at times. But that's ok. One of the families I brought had a birthday- the son was turning 13- so we surprised him with a birthday cake and everyone put on hats. Guess what the mom did? Started crying and said she'd never before been able to afford a party for her son. Another cool thing: Not one of the 7 people I brought had ever ridden the metro (or an escalator). It was so cute watching them eye the moving stairs uncertainly, jumping on, holding on to the sides for dear life, and then leaping off at the top. I fought to get them seats on the metro because I'm a fighter sometimes (not like an actual fight, more like shoving small children and pregnant women out of the way). (just kidding...geesh...).

So they painted and played tug of war and made puppets and learned communication techniques and swam and played outside and ran aruond and did yoga and ate a lot lot lot (especially my people, because the food was plentiful and they often go without). And the mothers from different families got some time to share with each other about their lives- which are often pretty tragic- and were able to support each other and learned a little about listening. All in all, it was AMAZING!

And now I find myself at the begining of Semana Santa, only the biggest party week in the Dominican Republic. Apparently, a good way to celebrate the Resurrection is to eat lots of habichuelas con dulce (think rice pudding, but with beans) and drink lots of presidente (beer) and dance a lot. Needless to say, school is cancelled, so I'll be working on other projects without feeling guilty that I'm not at the school getting the kiddies to read. And hopefully I get to dance some, but let's be real. It'll probably be with my mop.

Happy Easter!!!!!!!!!!

-alicia

And this one is for Lynda, Sarah, Penny, and Pat. You're right- those are strange names for Dominicans. That's because they're not Dominican! They're the Americans who came down from Sacred Heart church in Nueva York to check out the school! Why would they do that, you might be asking yourself...well, readers, that's because their church is responsible for the lunch the kiddies eat every day, the snack they've been getting recently, and also for a whole bunch of other stuff- some materials, painted walls, other things that help the school.

Here is how the week went: We took pictures of pretty much all the students so that their church members can continue "adopting" students, had all the kids write cards to their "adopted" godparents, ran all over don juan and some nearby communities, made some jewlery, got some culture shows, learned more or less how to play dominoes, and (not me) got lots of blisters and maybe a smidge of parasitic bowels. It was an awesome experience for the students, and I think the women got a lot out of it too. Of course it was amazing for me, because I LOVE it when Americans come to visit (not too subtle hint for everyone reading), they were great company, and also because pretty much every day someone was like "oh, here, alicia, have this" (and "this" ranged from about a 2 pounds of pepper packets to tea bags to granola bars to dinero to stuff for my youth/students...a lot of goodies, let me tell you). Papi, I ate really well this week. Also I was very regular. Sorry everyone else had to read that.

Now I will tell you all about the youth groups I have here. As I maybe have touched on before, they start with a 12-week curriculum about aids and sex and health and good choices. And other things. Built in, hopefully, are also opportunities for leadership, community service, fundraising, working togetherness, and general development (well, that's my wish). I started one a looong time ago, and they've since graduated, and sometimes they help me with my current groups. I've currently got a really great group in my neighborhood (my neighborhood is called Las Casitas, but everyone just says la casita because they never pronounce the s here. Ever.) made up of about 14 really dedicated high school girls. Tomorrow is our first fundraiser- we are going to sell baked goods, charge 10 pesos for entrance to this dance, and also sell earrings the girls are making (courtesy of my visitors). And maybe raffle off some other prizes. Why are we doing this? So that we can build a basketball court! I know what you may be thinking, pessimists. One bake sale will not be enough, no matter how many delicious cookies I make (because you all know they will be delicious). This is true, but this community has the resources to do a basketball court without asking for foreign aid (which is not true of most communities in Don Juan) so I really just want to help the community see how much the kids want it, get them all involved, and then kinda step back and watch some magic happen. That's my dream, anyways. Because...

My other group is in a very poor neighborhood of about 2,000 people, called the hills, or Los Cerros. (lo cerro). This group is dynamite- we've only just begun the meetings (and to live, I suppose) (that was for you, mommy) but around 20 kids come out each week to the meetings. They're going to begin raffling off items next week to raise funds, and, additionally, I will be looking for outside funding (already received a little bit from my visitors, and perhaps the good children of Mrs. Manteiga's 5th grade class might be helping out a little bit too). They are really motivated, and also want a community center (which is way beyond what I can do) but I figure if we can get a court down, they'll learn several new ways to raise money, get more of their community involved, and perhaps the local politician (who is currently building a huge, gorgeous house) will take note of how motivated they are and give his people some help. But we'll see. That's another dream.

I've got lots of dreams, as you can see, which is weird, because I don't actually get that much sleep. Another dream for this summer is to have 2 week-long science camps; one for boys and another for girls. I just love those science experiments! I blame the Sisters Academy, of course, and my awesome ex-principle and es-co-workers and es-students. I always said I never wanted to be a teacher, but I find myself doing a lot of teaching. Which is uncanny.

Last dream, which of course you all already know about: 100 latrines for Don Juan! (It doesn't actually have to be 100; more would be fine, and the number doesn't have to be quite as round, odd numbers don't bother me). Now I'm going to explain a little about the 2 types of latrines which can possibly be built, and you all are going to weigh in with your opinions.

Type one: Standard ventilated pit latrines: Dig a hole, put on a platform and "house," with a pipe. Advantages: Can be built for less than 200 dollars, townspeople are familiar with the structure and how to construct them. Disadvantages: fill up after time, hard to do in rocky and clay soils (quite a few houses have rocky/clay soils), possibility of seepage into groundwater.

Type two: Composting latrines: Build a cement block base with compartments, one on either side. Foundation has 2 holes, one on either side, and then build a house on top. Families use one hole for a year, then the next hole the next year (rotating holes each year). After one year of sitting (there are some chemicals that are easy to come by added), the solid waste is ready to be removed and can be used for fertilizer! Advantages: Last FOREVER, can be built on whatever type of soil, good fertilizer results, especially great for more than one family/large families, no worries about sewage leaking into groundwater. Disadvantages: Larger and thus more expensive (300 US dollars each), community will have to be taught to use them (I'm willing to do that), will lose a little money initially, I'm assuming, because the people haven't made latrines like this before, and there will probably be some errors/inefficiencies in the beginning.

That was probably more than you ever wanted to know, but now you know. School work is going along slowly (I feel like I say that every time). I'm hoping to get 2 more literate before the month ends, but that only gives me 2 days (Monday I have a training in the capital, and thursday-friday I'm taking some boys to science camp) so realistically that's not going to happen, but like I said. I'm a dreamer.

I absolutely cannot wait to visit home, just, I don't know when I'll be doing it. Before the summer ends.

con mucho carino,

alicia :-D

My mom. But everyone else can read it, too. See, a few days ago we talked, and she told me that she checked my blog every day. Well, call me tickled. I'm in the capital now, so I will take advantage of the internet and update, I thought to myself. But about what? You all already know about stuff here that's different, men and women issues here, how people like to call me a cow, the funny stuff my kids do, and how much I love my cat. So then I got to thinking...I'm pretty sure most people blog about stuff that happens to them. Thus, my day, Wednesday the 2nd of March, 2011.

Alarm goes off at 7, about the time my cat starts knocking on my door to let him in (he knocks for about 10 minutes, at which point I either let him in because I know the noise bothers my neighbors, or he gets the door to open. I know. My cat can open my door. Is nothing sacred, life?!) So I let him in, but I'm feeling really really drowsy from the benadryl I've been taking to help me sleep (I've got TONS of bug bites right now, so I can't really sleep unless I've got something to get the swelling down). Also, work has been pretty crappy, life is hard here for me, alone, sometimes. So I decided, well, self, maybe I'll just keep sleeping. I know, sweet life. So I slept some more, until maybe 9, and then watched my cat sleep (he is. so. cute). And THEN I got my lazy butt out of bed and said again to myself, self, I have to shower before leaving. I'm really dirty. The problem? I still have not much clean water, since a spider decided to drop its eggs in my water tank (I know this because last time I opened my water tank, I saw a huge spider, and as I was shooing it out, I saw it drop a big white sack from it's bum, and then I saw lots of little eggy things spread out in the water. It was as good as a Nature documentary, except that was my water tank and it takes a LONG time to fill by bucket). Yes, I get the kids to help, but again, it's a time issue. So anyways, I'm dirty. With about 30 ounces of water, I manage to wash my face and hair (which is the part that looks greasy anyways). Pants take care of my legs, and I use a baby wipe on my arms. My feet will get dirty on the walk to school anyways, so I just don't worry about them. The next challenge is breakfast, but I pop by the nearest colmado, buy a masita, which is like a lump of hard bread that's mildly sweet,and I'm on my way. Also, I bring a little bag of garbage with me. My house is full of garbage because the garbage people come when I'm at work, and I can't leave my garbage outside because then dogs or other animals get in it and then I have to pick it up, and that's very annoying.

Okay, walking to work. I get a few compliments on the way, a few motorcycles slow down to stare at me as they pass (I'm terrified I'm going to be the cause of an accident one day), as expected, my feet and sandals get dirtier, I drop the garbage at the convent by the school (they have a large outdoor garbage can; metal drum; nothing is getting in that sucker except for my waste!), and I set up shop. Today the part time psychologist was there, and I cede the office to her use when she comes in; I feel like she's more important, since the school pays her and all. I looked for my first student of the day and discovered that we're making close to negative progress (wonderful). Then, before calling my second student, I walked up to the third grade classroom to find the kids killing each other and the teacher, in a depressed state of dispair, had her head on the desk (it was recess time so that's ok). I put my hand on her back; I couldn't control 40 8-12 year old's, either, with zero resources and a room that's noisy no matter what. Then she told me that this punk I just taught to read LAST WEEK after almost a year of hard work was in a fight with a younger kid, and might get expelled (which here is a BIG DEAL, like, you have to machete someone in the face to get expelled; regular bleeding fights are nothing). So of course I'm upset (but mostly, selfishly, because I JUST taught this kid to read, and, I mean, come on.) Luckily I ran into the vice principle (because the principle is never at the school) and they're giving him a second chance. Also, his mom came to pick him up, which was surprising and good.

Anyways, now it's time for my second student. This girl does not know the meaning behind not screaming. It's a little funny and also not. We're practicing the ba be bi bo bu's and accompanying words, and she screams them all. Also she keeps saying va ve vi vo vu intead of the b's and I don't know why she does that; I've never seen a kid do that before, and I'm not sure how to fix it. So I correct her repeatedly, and she forgets, repeatedly. But she had done the homework, and she is progressing (we started with the vowels, and now she can sound out syllables with half the alphabet). However, the whole b/v thing was frustrating, and around this time a PC friend who lives in the capital but works in the nearby bateys called me and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch. Of course I said yes. Then I looked for my final student of the morning (short morning, but I blame the benadryl). He and I are neighbors, and he is progressing also, which is something of a miracle, since we spent like the first 8 months on the same vowels (there are only 5, by the way, just like in English). Anyways, I was writing his homework in his notebook, and in that time he picked up a piece of tape, taped it across his eyebrows tomake a straight line, and said "look, Alicia, I'm Chinese!" Kids say the darndest things. I finished up with him a little later than expected, because my PC friend called to say that she was waiting at my town's "cafe," and had ordered me a sandwich (that's the only thing they make; with bread, ketsup, tomato, onion, mayo, a piece of cheese and a piece of ham, toasted. It's delish.) I got there, and we chatted; a third volunteer was there too, so she and I planned the event our youth groups are going to have on Saturday. After that, my PC boss stopped by for a minute (she had been checking up on the new volunteers who live close to me) to see my cat (she had given me my cat). Of course, for the 3 minutes we were in my house, 3 boys came in and started coloring, which was cute.

Then I made the executive decision that, that night, I would come to the capital so that tomorrow I can go on a field trip to prepare for the science camp I'm taking 3 kids to. Since I have to leave the capital at 7 tomorrow, I had to spend the night. I packed my bags and then went to school to start my afternoon session.

I was pleasantly surprised to see one of my morning students patiently waiting for me; sometimes he comes in the afternoon for additional help, because he lives close and is a good kid. We worked for a long time (maybe an hour) and then I had to start preparing for my parenting class (it's good to prepare). Today was parents plus kids, and we'd never had one like that before, so I was nervous and excited. All 5 parents brought their kids, and for some reason the art teacher with whom I co-teach didn't show up, so I took the lead that was unceremoniously dumped on me, and did what I think was a great job. We had been talking about communication, so we all played communication games, with the goal of getting kids and parents to 1)communicate without screaming, cursing, and hitting, and 2) to get parents to start seeing that it's okay to play with their kids. Pretty much everyone enjoyed it, and we ended just as the school day was ending, which was perfect.

Then one of my youth helped me to find a respectable motorcycle chofer to take me to a place where I could wait for the bus (usually I don't have to use a motorcycle, but it was around 6 by this point, so today I did). As we were pulling up to the stop, a big gua-gua was passing by (!) so I hopped on, then around an later, got on the metro, and 30 minutes later, stepped off in the capital. I ran into a bunch of volunteer friends also in the capital for business, and I had a delicious dinner of chicken soup and diet coke. And now I'm typing this. And tomorrow I'll leave my wonderful, flea-ridden cheap hostel bed around 6:20 with the hopes of making it to the bus station on time, to begin my 5-7 hour trek to the science camp site (not on foot, by bus). Also, I took a shower here in the capital. This is how dirty I was: The water turned brown. Gross. Also also, I brushed my teeth. That's also good to do from time to time. Don't worry, Papi, I floss every day.

That's it. I hope you found it entertaining and very bloggerish, and that you all have a wonderful thursday and friday!

peace,

alicia

Just an addendum to previous post; it just so happens that I have internet access, but not enough has happened to write a whole new post. So, anyways, here is the added part.

When I was a child, I sprained my ankles 3 times. The first time, I was doing something legitimate. I believe I was doing some sort of trick on the uneven bars at gymnastics and landed wrong, or perhaps I was tumbling; I don't remember. Anyways, sprained ankle, crutch experience number one. Second time (and I am not proud of this) happened at gymnastics again. We were playing dodge ball with a large plastic ball (the kind you can use to do sit-ups and stuff...the really big ones, the size of a bean bag chair). Well, I was about to win when the ball hit me and I dodged the wrong way and...well, you know. Sprained ankle number two, crutch experience number two. I believe I told the children at school I was doing something daring, like a backhandspring on the beam. Nope. Dodge ball. It was around this time when my mom surprised me with a special present. Her presentation was "Some parents buy their children cruise tickets. Me, what do I buy you? Crutches!" And indeed, hidden in the closet were metal crutches. The third time happened close to the end of my freshman year of high school. I think I was excited about purchasing a cookie or something, leaped over my bookbag, didn't quite see that the sidewalk had ended, and, well, I have weak ankles. What can I say.

Anyways, the point of those seemingly pointless anecdotes was to convey to you all, my faithful readers, that I have a lot of experience with crutches. I could go up and down stairs, run with crutches, go backwards, reach things, you know. Like extra limbs. So, who better to help sort through crutches for hip and knee replacement patients than I?

Today, the other volunteers and I sorted through a storage area that contained about 100 mismatched crutches and made them functional. We unscrewed a lot, taped on a lot of towels, and I gave quite a few a test run.

Hopefully that was worth the read. I promise I won't have this much free time...ever, most likely. Surgeries to start tomorrow, and I am excited!

Vayan con Dios,

Alicia

Hint: This time, it's not a stick.

Hmmm...what could I be referring to? Well, I won't tell you. I will tell you that over the past week I've learned a lot about building latrines, though! Latrines, just in case you don't speak Peace Corps or Development language, are outhouses. But not just any latrines: VIP latrines...Ventilated Improved Pit latrines. Whoah boy!

Alone, you may be asking. Did I build seven latrines all by my lonesome? Heck no! A group of 7 guys and a priest from the University of Rochester came down, and in conjunction with the families, dug holes and mortared rocks to the sides of the holes (so that they don't collapse whilst someone is...you know...). It was a lot of fun. Mostly I just translated, though sometimes I could sneak in with a pick and shovel or throw some rocks on with some mortar. I'm an expert now at telling people what to do, by the way. And while they did not get finished, they should be finished next week, which is when I'll go around teaching families to make portable hand-washers (and tell them why they should use them).

So, what am I doing now? Wallowing in my half-success? Nopers. Currently, I'm in day one of 7 of a medical mission. Doctors from all over the US have come together in a town outside of Santiago, and I get to help translate! What does this mean? I don't have to cook or clean for 7 days, and I'll be learning lots of new words in spanish hopefully tonight. So that, you know, I don't look like a fool. Because then I would have to pity myself. (You know...I pity the fool...)

This does not mean that school hasn't started yet. Well, actually, it hasn't started, it starts on Monday. This week the teachers are in some sort of workshop. It's a bummer that I'm not there because I love sitting for days on end and listening to people tell me things, but, you know, we all have our struggles.

Should I back up a bit? Okay. Where was I before making latrines? And before running around getting things prepared for making latrines? Good question. I was in the good old US of A. It was wonderful...everything I hoped for and dreamed of. I think my family was in the honeymoon phase of Alicia... you know, when you haven't seen anyone for a while and so then want to do whatever that person wants to do because you've missed her that much. So that's pretty much what we did. Whatever I wanted to do. It was awesome, and the food was awesome, and I got to see a lot of my wonderful friends. Trips like that make me energized for life here!

Now I will include a highlight and a lowlight.

Lowlight (let's start with the bad first). I assaulted a woman. I know, I know, it's called the Peace Corps, not the assault corps. Let me defend myself before you judge me for the terrible person you may think I am. The group had brought some gifts to share with some of the children. Of course, once people saw this, mothers started pushing up to get one for themselves (or, ostensibly, for their children). Since we only had gifts for the children of the families with whom we were working, not everyone could receive something. Well, this woman kept pushing and pushing (we were backed up against a truck). So I yelled at her something like "YA!", pushed her back, and then screamed "YOU ARE ALL ACTING LIKE ANIMALS!"

oops. So much for self control, I guess. Everyone loses it every now and then. In my defense, I was dirty and exhausted and really, really angry. Good thing assault here is really if you do something like machete someone in the eye.

Highlight: I do believe that, after a conversation with one of the priest's friends, I will have help securing funding to build many more latrines. This is important because 1) It is no fun to have to do your bodily functions in the bushes with almost zero privacy, 2) It's a health hazard 3) There's a little thing called cholera which is spread by poor hygiene 4) A house is not a home without a bathroom, and

5) Have you ever pooped without a toilet or outhouse? I have, and it sucks.

Long story long, money to build more latrines means more healthy families (and perhaps some temporary happiness, too). And a healthier community.

If you are asking yourself "self, I wonder if Alicia's community needs a lot of latrines?" The answer is yes. How many, I'm not sure of yet (surveys to come) but the answer is surely in the 100s. Will I be able to help every house get a latrine? Haha probably not, but that sure would be nice. BTW, if you or your group would like to sponsor a latrine, I can write your name on it and take a picture of it with the family standing around it (or someone using it, if that's what you'd prefer...).

In the meantime, I'll be translating and then back to school getting the kiddies to read, and back to the youth helping them develop their self-esteem and learn how to think for themselves. And me and the art teacher are going to start a good parenting class! I'm no parent, so she's providing the "parenting" portion and I'm supplying the "class" bit. It's a fun job, so I'm glad I'm the one who gets to do it!

Also in other news, my cat is still really really adorable.

Also also, pictures to come!

Happy New Year!

-alicia

The Silent Dominican, you ask? I thought it was a pretty loud culture, you might find yourself asking out loud to me. It is, you are correct, an extremely loud culture. But, my good friend, (a school teacher and my Dominican Mother), had a throat operation (which went fine) but she couldn't talk...for 3 days. oigh. Let me tell you about her experience:

Day one, about a month ago: She leaves town at 5 am to get to the hospital by 7. If you're not there by 7, they won't see you and you have to come back tomorrow. Turns out the doctor she needs to see isn't there anyways, so she has to make the two hour trek back home and Goes Back Tomorrow.

Tomorrow: Gets referred to an intern, who tells her to get a sonagram.

Next week: Leaves (for third time now, it's hurting her budget, school does not offer paid sick days and she has to find and pay for substitute teachers) gets there at 7, is told to wait until the afternoon to see her doctor...and then doctor calls in, says she's taking off 3 weeks for maternity leave. So then my good friend (who NEVER cries...) begins to brawl because 1) she's exhausted 2) she's near-broke 3) she's scared, and 4) they're treating her like "ca-ca" (I learned from my kids that caca is what you call human feces while pupu is animal solid wastes. good to know). Since she makes such a fuss, another doctor agrees to see her once he's off work. He tells her the intern was an idiot, she never needed a sonogram, she needs an operation. Wonderful.

Next next week: Goes in for operation, thinking "in-out-back at school tomorrow." They failed to tell her, until after the operation, that she would have to remain silent for 3 days. Double oigh...forget the oigh...that's a full blown string of expletives I cannot post.

Just so that, you know, you all can appreciate customer service and healthcare and all that good stuff. Communication. Doctors with hearts and brains.

So what did I do to cheer her up? The only thing I know how to do...I brought over puzzles and coloring books and crayons and cards and we silently played and I cracked jokes and she laughed (she told me she could laugh). Her daughter colored too. It was a very nice bonding experience.

Speaking of her daughter, she had a birthday recently, and I chanced by her party. This is how it went: 30 plastic chairs in three rows outside her house, she's sitting in a birthday dress, there's a huge cake by her side. The kids sing to her, the mom cuts the cake and hands it out, more kids run up and come and grab cake, and then everyone leaves. I asked my friend "is this normal? For kids to eat and run at birthday parties?" and she replied "they'd better run, or I'd have chased them off with my broom." HAHAha.

Speaking of birthdays, a certain author of this blog had her birthday since the last time I posted. To celebrate, I decided to fly my parents in to the DR (just kidding...they flew themselves over...) and we had a lovely time visiting my site, walking to a neighboring community, checking out the big city, and walking on the beaches of Juan Dolio. Much was my dismay when they left, staved off by their surprise present of a PLANE TICKET HOME for Christmas!!!! I've been singing "I'll be hooooome for Chriiiiistmas" nonstop in my head since they've left, which is at least a thousand repetitions of the song, especially since I don't know all the words. Other things for my birthday: Went out dancing with 2 teachers from the school and all the new Peace Corps volunteers that now live close to me. It was a lot of fun. Also I use the term dancing to describe any type of body movement when one is standing and music is playing (just so you all have an idea of the caliber I strive for).

Speaking of fun, one of the things I do for fun is talk to children. They're free, they're friendly, they're fun. (I know, right now your mind is blown by my use of literary devices to emphasize certain points). This is a hilarious exchange I was rewarded with one day.

"Alicia, I lost a tooth! Look!"

"Wow, you have a hole in your mouth! Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

"Do you know what happens in my country when children lose their teeth?"

"No, what?"

"Well, the children put their teeth under their pillows and that night the 'good witch' (*author's note...did not know translation for fairy, so had to resort to good witch*) takes them and leaves money under the pillow for the child."

"Wow, have you seen the good witch?"

"No, but I think my mom has."

"Oh. Well, there's no good witch here. What if I give my tooth to you so that when you go home you can ask your mom to sell this to the good witch?"

"Hmmm. That's a good idea."

"And then I'll tell the other kids too. Maybe I can get some other teeth out."

"Well, that's a good idea, but my mom might want some profit for herself. How about this: I'll give you all half of what the good witch gives my mom."

"Okay!"

hahaha. And that's why, when I'm not doing anything, I'm probably chortling to myself.

Right now I've taken 2 youth to (yet another) conference. This particular initiative is very exciting...it was started by volunteers eons ago (or like 6 years ago), and now it's run by both PC and Dominican youth volunteers. PCVs started by having youth groups and teaching things like reproductive health, making good decisions, what discrimination is, and gender rights. And by teaching I mean dynamic meetings with dramas, pictures, games, etc. Well these groups became something of a phenomenon, and so many volunteers started them (using a curriculum), that Dominican youth who showed promise became in charge of certain groups after the American volunteers left. Each time a group "graduates," members are capacitated to start or help begin a new group...and thus it has spread. So this conference is run almost exclusively by Dominican youth, and there are over 150 from across the country participating. Also, it makes it easier for me...still little sleep, but I can do things like skip sessions and type this wonderful blog for my wonderful readers who have been clamoring non-stop for an update.

That last bit was a little stretch, probably, I haven't even heard a clink for an update, but maybe you were clamoring silently, in your heads.

I think that's about it for now. If you're reading this, chances are I may or may not see you between December 20 and 30, but that's when I'll be in Florida, so I'm hoping to see lots of people and lots of free movies (ahem, Thomas!)

Can't wait. I'llll be hooooome for Chriiiiistmas.... (told you all)

-aliiiicia

...but you will know once reading this. Not too much has happened in the last few weeks, outside of a mandatory cholera training (oh boy!) and a tropical storm/hurricane. So I've decided to share some things that are interesting about here.

You know the cocoa plant, that they use to make chocolate and hot cocoa and other assorted cocoa products? (In spanish, "cacao"). Well, did you know that when you crack open the cocoa pod, there are seeds (the part you dry and mash up to make the powder) covered by a white sticky substance that tastes like a sour patch kid, that you can suck? Well, it's there and it's a really interesting flavor, if you ever get ahold of a ripe cocoa pod. But don't eat too much because it will give you a cold. Or so they say.

Sometimes, people talk about "motor-taxis." I remember reading a friend's blog (she was volunteering in Cambodia), and she kept talking about them, and in my mind, I pictured a motorcycle pulling a little cart behind it where people sat. If that's what you're picturing in your head when you think motor-taxi, then you're wrong. It is a motorcycle, yes, but the taxi part is cramming yourself and usually one or sometimes 4 more people (yes, one motorcycle) and assorted bags and objects behind the "chofer". The other day I put my full-sized keyboard and myself on the motor-taxi. It's pretty impressive how well they balance stuff and also how many people die in motorcycle accidents here.

Did you know that here, lunch is the biggest meal? I like it a lot like that; a little breakfast to get you going (like coffee and toast), a big lunch because you've been working hard and will work hard (like a mountain of beans, rice, and a little chicken), and then a little dinner (hot chocolate and fried platains). Also usually there's a little rest associated with lunch time. I like that too.

Did you know that termites can and will eat holes in your clothes? Because they do. They have. And it's really annoying. Especially when you go to school and your principle, a nun, tells you to pull down your shirt in the back because your pants are broken and you wore bright blue underwear to school that day. Wonderful. God bless all creatures, great and small, right?

Did you know that men can say and do whatever they want here?

Did you know that lime juice is supposed to help you lose weight, according to women in my campo?

Did you know that if you have dengue the best remedy is a smoothie of peppers and guava (also according to my neighbors)?

Did you know that if you dance with the same guy twice in one night it means you want to be his girlfriend, even if you've never spoken with him before?

Did you know it's possible to deep fry a scrambled egg?

Did you know if you see a white toad it means someone has passed away?

Did you know that if you walk in the rain or have cold foods with hot foods you'll catch a cold?

Did you know that cow poop is a big blob and horse poo is a bunch of large pebble-sized blobs in a straight line because they're usually walking when they poo?

Do you know how many meat products they put in the cheap salami here? Becuase I don't, and I don't want to.

Anywho, the last couple of days I've been consolidated in the capital because of the weather. It's been really great to get to see the volunteers who are close. A few days before that, we were consolidated to talk about cholera. And a few days before that, I updated last, so I think that brings us up to speed. Going to try to actually spend a couple of days in my community, si dios quiere.

stay classy,

alicia

To get me a visa.

Yes folks, a while ago that was the number one favorite song to shout at me from my campo, my street, the capital, the gua-gua...basically, everywhere. The song followed me, and other PC volunteers around like the bubonic plague followed rats. One girl even had it shouted at her from inside the Secretary of Education's office.

Well guess what. The freaking song is STILL following me around. Yesterday I had to relocate from my office to the front porch of a neighbor's house while tutoring because, why? 20 pre-schoolers were screaming the song into my windows while I was trying to teach a boy to read. Why didn't their teacher do something? Where was their teacher? The principle? Anyone? Good questions. Why didn't I just put them in their places, calm them down, get them seated, and explain to them why they should respect me, how the song is disrespectful, how they really shouldn't scream at me when I'm trying to teach another child to read or working through his or her assorted traumas, and how really they should be learning something because they're only in school for less than 4 hours a day? Well, I didn't because I'm tired of being patient and explaining things and having people look at me like I'm a martian. Ergo, we went to someone else's front porch. Then we got kicked out because they had a meeting...you know how things go.

Here's a nice story. When tutoring one child, we worked through one of the blends "bl" as in "amable", the word for friendly. I explained to him that the word means nice, someone who doesn't shout a lot and makes you feel good. Then I asked him to tell me one person in his life who was amable. Wouldn't you know that after half a minute of serious concentration, he looked me in the face and said "usted," or "you". Well gosh, I guess I am pretty amable every now and then.

Here's a not nice story. Last week, one of my girls told me that one of my boys in a nearby batey had stolen a cell phone from a neighbor, with the intention of selling it and using the money to play dice. So then his father beat him so that his hips swole and his back was bleeding (with barbed wire, she said), so that he couldn't put on clothes. Then the father and mother took him to the judge so that they'd put the boy in prison. Also the boy is 10. That day, I told another teacher, my good friend, what had happened, and we went to visit the family, and I saw the boy, with his red back and loose fitting shorts, and the teacher told the mom why this cannot happen again, and we both told the boy how much we care about him. Nothing happened to the father, because that would mean that the world was a just place.

Here's a nice story, one more time. The science class was so much fun! We made pyramid-shaped kites, and it took the whole 2 hours to construct them. The boys worked really well together, and the groups that finished first helped the stragglers. Unfortunately, some of them didn't fly (and I'm not sure why...) but they learned the valuable lesson that sometimes science projects just don't work. They had a blast, so did I, and I've got more coming this saturday, along with 2 teachers who, after realizing what "science projects, experiments, and demonstrations" means (which is not just writing stuff on a board and then copying it into a notebook) are really excited about learning what I'm doing with the students, so that they can replicate it in the future.

Also yesterday I had 3 glasses of lime juice. A very good day, indeed.

Why did the cows stick together when it was raining?

To keep the udders dry....

hHAHAHAHA. That joke compliments of my dad, whose sense of humor rivals mine, some would say.

later gators,

alicia

Good day to my friends and family and others. Sometimes I put off blogging to wait for a particularly cute anecdote to include (and other times, internet access is too limited or I'm too lazy...hard to imagine, I'm sure). Well, our waiting and anticipation paid off!

Yesterday, one of my favorite student's fathers presented me with (yet another) head of platanos (plaintains). Would we call it a head? A bunch? A hand? Anyways, think of how you buy bananas, and that's what I got, but in plantain form. Cool. So then, the little boy was like "okay, I'll walk you back," which was really sweet. We start walking, and I ask him "doesn't it hurt you to walk without shoes?" "Nah. I have feet of iron," he replied. "If you have feet of iron, then I have feet of...cotton." He grinned and we spent the entire walk talking about what kind of feet we have; he has feet of iron, gold, wood, cement block. I have feet of cotton, feathers, leaves, and skimice (skim ice is like a frozen stick popsicle). We decided the flavor could be fresa (strawberry) because that's my favorite.

Reading help (and counseling) is going along slowly, mostly because I've been out of my town for various reasons, most recent reason being an engineering camp that I took 3 boys to. It was a ton of fun: we made boats out of cardboard and duct tape (that supported the weight of a participant), bridges from popsicle sticks and glue, paper airplanes, telescopes, climbed, swam, got really dirty, and really excited about engineering. Let's get this cleared up: I have no interest in becoming an engineer. However, I do have interest in helping my kids see what the engineering profession includes, and letting them know that if they work hard, their professional opportunities reach beyond farming and driving for other people.

This saturday, at long last, I will have my first ever science experiment class in the Dominican Republic! It should be somewhat different from the classes I got to teach in Baltimore for several reasons: 1) All spanish, all the time (do you know how to translate words like density and mass? cuz I sure don't...thank goodness for dictionaries). 2) Illiteracy (yes, it will be different when children can't read the instructions) 3) Teaching styles (here, the teaching style is to write something on the board and then have kids copy it, which doesn't really foster thinking) 4) Materials: at the SAB, the materials were limited to anything I could think up, basically; here, materials are limited to anything I can purchase with a small grant 5) Have I mentioned the language is different here before?

But anywho I'm excited, and so are many of the participants. Our first project will be tetrahedral kites made of straws and wax paper, and also hopefully bottle tornadoes. "Wind" is going to be the theme.

Also with regards to groups, last week I started a youth group. We will be using a manual of activities based on health and making good decisions and AIDS prevention, and hopefully it's fun for them. It's something I've been meaning to do for awhile, and it's refreshing to work with an older crowd.

Speaking of the language difference...it's neat that now I don't dread speaking spanish. I still make errors though, and that gets my goat. I mean, how come I can't just speak correctly? To make matters even funnier, when I speak in english now, I think of words in spanish. Basically, I can't speak either english or spanish right now. haha.

New joke from a friend: What do you call an old snowman?

Water.

Haha. Speaking of snow, it's been freezing here! Just kidding. It's hot as ever, but the rains are nice when I have an umbrella, because it's not so hot when the clouds are spitting out water.

Keep it real. Keep it fun. Keep it real fun.

con mucho amor,

alicia :-D

Hear how [my rhythm] goes.

Key word: hear.

This blog is brought to you today by a group of doctors, plastic surgeons, from the US of A, who have volunteered their time and talent (and money) in the DR, helping construct ears for those born without them (or born with ear defects). And I'm super excited because out of the four people from my town who went, 3 are getting helped! This is wonderful!

In other news...well, frankly, there is not that much other news right now. My wonderful sisters made an emergency "cheer alicia up" trip to the DR and have left me with enough food to enable me to hibernate, if I choose, until the winter. My attendance at the school has so far been sporadic this year given visits and official duties and other things, but my roster of students has grown steadily, despite this. Also in other news, my office received a filing cabinet, which is wonderful. It's pretty much full now, a big one. Imagine, before the filing cabinet, all that stuff was on top of, in, around, and under my desk. I know, hard to imagine Alicia working in a disorganized office. haha. hem.

In other other news, we have finally purchased the bulk of materials needed for the construction of the house for a family who are friends of mine. These materials have been purchased thanks to an american friend who came and visited (a baltimorean). I have decided to put off any sort of celebration until the whole house is built and the family has been moved in, but it is still nice to have some of the groundwork covered.

Do you all remember the poem Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes? Anyways, I feel like a lot of the youth here feel like that. Maybe the adults too.

Here it is, before you go google it (if you were about to, just to make it easier):

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over--

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

I'm going to continue on with the teaching others to read. If I were a better volunteer, I'd have found some way to motivate others to volunteer to help me teach. I keep putting the idea out there, but noone's really keen on working for nothing. Turns out the gift of giving isn't really a gift from many people's perspectives. It's really exciting that the teachers are using books we got for the school with grant money, and that many of the kids are so excited to get to borrow the books and read them. Most of them have never read a story book before, and the fact that there is almost one book for every older student is really amazing.

The exciting news for this week is the operations which will take place! In about a month, I'll have some more volunteers working close to me, which is also exciting, but we'll get excited about that later.

until we meet again,

alicia

For real this time. 10, more or less. Why the sudden urge to reflect? Have I purchased a large mirror? Or is it the large number of comments I receive on my blog post when I reflect? (I’m such a comedian). It’s actually that I’ve completed more than a year in this country (though not quite a year of official service). Keep in mind this list is not binding, and I’m sure there have been experiences more powerful or memorable that are not popping into my mind right now, because I’m kind of hungry and tired (that will be remedied eventually, perhaps after my service).

1. The Cancha. Yes, remember waaaay back in training (many eons ago) when my friends Jenny, Cameron, Dean, and I, alongside a very motivated group of youths from the barrio El Chorro stalked politicians and companies alike, soliciting donations to give the community a mini-basketball court? From hours of walking, hauling wet sand from a dirty stream up to the river bank to mix with cement, getting sun burnt, eating spaghetti, sucking down cold refresco like it was our real job, fumbling along with Spanish, dancing bachata, and, at last, playing basketball in front of an audience of about 300 …the experience was amazing, their joy infectious, and the memory inolvidable (unforgettable).

2. The Shack. As I started out in my campo, I would walk to school every day and pass a shack. As the door to the shack was always closed, I figured it had formally housed a pig or two and was now abandoned. This idealism lasted a few weeks, until I saw two of my students leave the shack (roughly the size of the kitchen in our house in the states). Turns out 12 people live there- a mother, her grown daughter, and their collective children, plus the mother’s son who does not help out. What do they do for money? The mother finds work wherever she can, busting her butt every day to make maybe 200 pesos (less than 6 dollars) to feed everyone, while the grown daughter (who just gave birth) tries to keep the house from falling apart. Do they go hungry? Sometimes. Are they healthy, clean, well clothed? Never. Do the children go to school? Now they do. Are they surviving? Yes. But I wouldn’t dare call what the mother is doing living…she is fighting, struggling, pleading. One of my friends who visited donated some money, and we’re trying to move them to a slightly better house that will be built for free. Thus, another powerful memory is the first time I realized just how desperate the lives are that people I call my friends have to live.

3. “Alicia la linda!” Sometime in my first three months of service, walking to school, I was greeted by 30 children in what we could roughly call “physical education.” The teacher- my current neighbor- upon seeing me, started a chant which has followed me to this day… “Alicia la linda! Alicia la linda!” It has a nice ring to it, especially given that my name here is not Alicia like Uh-leash-uh, but uh-lee-sea-uh. So what did I do, confronted with children crazed with this chant? Well I ran up and down, giving them all high-5’s. Sometimes, that’s all you can do. I do believe that this was one of the first times I let my guard down in my campo, something I do now all the time when I’m playing with my posse.

4. No help. Also sometime in my first three months of service (sparing details given the varied nature of my readers) a 4-year old was abused by a group of boys ranging 8 to 12 years old. It fell on my shoulders to help both the 4 year old and convict the children who went to my school (I chose to have discussions with them). So what ended up happening is…nothing. Without an active department of family services, or police force, or strong school leadership, or really any social services, negligent parents and abusive practices have been left unchecked, souls have been corrupted, and, least importantly to everyone but myself, I experienced what it means to be utterly impotent, unable to help or do anything but watch people self-destruct. I would have titled this experience no hope, but if I start down that road, I might as will quit now; this experience is not limited to my campo, region, or country.

5. The loma. Oh, what a joy that first hike was. I believe I have discussed this before. Beginning with a pancake party and ending with somewhere between 20 and 40 (my memory fails me, as we’ve had several hikes now) small Dominican children and me, the lone Americana, climbing up hills, over barbed wire, through mud, dodging cow patties and crazed large animals, crossing streams, carrying children, getting really, really dirty, and shocked at the zero fighting for almost 3 hours. It was amazing, truly, and since, I have recruited Dominican mothers (and even a father once) to accompany us, and the party of troopers has expanded.

6. No habla Espanol. This one still sings my pride, as it happened last week. I was shopping with the principle of my school for maps for the school (as the school had no maps previously, and we were awarded a grant to buy stuff for the school, so that maybe the kids actually learn stuff). After I had been waiting for the principle at the store for an hour (she obviously had better things to do), I told her that the salespeople were not very helpful (customer service is not a strength in this country). She said “that’s because they didn’t understand you.” When the woman at the store told us we’d have to wait several hours to get the maps we had previously paid for, the principle decided that my time was so valuable that I could wait around a few hours for them. She then proceeded to tell the woman working at the store that I was a northamerican and didn’t speak Spanish very well, so she’d have to be patient with me. I’m not sure if it’s a sin or not to want to spit in a nun’s face, but that’s what I wanted. Excuse me, but if I don’t know how to speak Spanish, how is it that I’ve taught YOUR students to read SPANISH, whereas YOUR teachers and YOUR (limited) efforts have not succeeded in that area? That was obviously a very bad day for me, and I will remember that particular hurt for awhile.

7. Campamento Superman! While the whole camp was a joy, my favorite moment was when one of the boys I brought was tossed in the river on an innertube. Two of the stronger male volunteers had set up a line of muchachos in the river, and were systematically tossing them in the air with their inner-tubes, so that they would fly a little and then smack safely on the water. Turns out that one of my boys (the very same one who has this week been kicked out of his abusive home to live on the streets unless we can do something to help him) (also the same one who almost didn’t go because he didn’t have enough clothing and his mom was embarrassed) was the BEST flier in the bunch. He must have gone like 20 feet in the air, and the smile on his face as he was airborne made me, and makes me to this day, so glad that he got to experience being a kid for once. As a side note, next year I’ll get to help out with the leadership of the camp, as I really was moved by it. I figure, when you think something is worthwhile, it’s good to help it stay afloat.

8. Platanos. Last year, I got one of my favorite students (even though I know you’re not supposed to have favorites…they’re all my favorite) to start going to school. Even though he’s a little older (not sure of the age…between 6 and 8) he didn’t know the colors, the names of the vowels, how to write his name…nothing. He did know, however, how to tell if a cow was angry or happy, how to ride a horse, which flowers are good to plant, and, of course, how to speak Spanish. One day, his grandfather pulled me aside. I figured it was to ask me for money, as is the common practice here. So imagine my surprise when this poor campesino with almost nothing to his name pulled out a black bag with platanos inside. “For frying,” he said. I don’t know if he went hungry because of his generosity- it is possible- but I think our tacit understanding was that he was sorry for the way he had raised his grandchild, and that he appreciated my efforts. The plantains were delicious.

9. Documentation. Discrimination here is a bane of Dominican society (there, I’ve said it). There are so many Haitian immigrants and Dominicans of Haitian decent that are neglected, overlooked, abused, ridiculed, because of their nationality. By the way, where one is born is one of the very few things one has absolutely no control over (unlike the decision to discriminate). One person I know in this town, he has become a friend, has lived in the country for over 40 years; he’s raised children in the country, and works (under the table) to support himself. He had documentation which allowed him some basic rights, but in a hurricane, it was destroyed. He has since been unable to get documentation (due to said discrimination) and now cannot legally work, vote, receive government aid, travel without getting harassed…He is no longer a Haitian citizen, and can’t claim Dominican citizenship either. So he is a citizen of nowhere, one of the millions in the world. And what a waste! It’s like saying to 10 percent of the population- I know that many of you are smart and motivated and capable and a potentially great resource to the country- but I don’t care, and I will treat you worse than garbage.

10. Love. Coming back from my visit home was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do this year. The night before my flight departed, I considered the feasibility of just not coming back. Needless to say, I did come back, and I was glad when, seeing a horde of my students for the first time, they all ran up to me and gave me big ole’ hugs. In this country, it’s hard to remember sometimes why it is that I’m willing to struggle so much, to fight every day and subject my body and my mind to such challenges. And then some kid calls my name, gives me a hug or a mint, offers to get me fruit, holds my hand, hugs me, and I remember why I came here.

So I apologize for the length, and commend anyone who actually finished this verbose entry. It has seemed in the past that my entries were unrealistically lighthearted, because I suspect that’s what people want to hear about. So you can expect more upbeat entries until the next time I decide to buy another mirror…haha. Hem.

Peace!

Alicia

We just caused a lot of smoke. And neighbors thought there was a fire. In all honesty, there was a small one, under a pan. Since I have a captive audience, I will start at the beginning.

Before I left on my lovely vacation to Florida, I began this new project called "cooking with kids." It's not really called that officially, but one could dub it that. It entails cooking...with kids. One day I went to visit my friend, and her daughter started whining (she's a whiner) because she was hungry. So I volunteered to cook pancakes with her, thinking that her mom would appreciate a break and some prepared food (also, she's fed me a countless number of times). I take the girl to my house, and, as can be expected by this point, attract a crowd. I make the crowd wait outside, while me and the lucky chosen child wash our hands ("why do I have to wash my hands?" "Because I don't want to eat your germs." "Okay.") and begin to pour, measure, mix, flip and syrup lots of pancakes. Luckily, there were enough to go around (there usually is). Also luckily, maybe, I develop a waiting list of children who want to cook with me next. Oh boy.

So anywho, a few evenings ago, one of my muchachos and his 2 younger brothers convinced me to let them cook something called johnny cakes (more or less) in my house. It was their turn (they'd waited a long time) and his grandparents told me he was an expert. Of course. What 10 year old boy is not an expert at frying things, right? Even though I'm exhausted, what's a little exhaustion amongst friends and small children. Definitely not more exhaustion. We buy the ingredients- flour, eggs, oil, and salt, in case you want to make these. The boy shows me how to mix the ingredients (after we all washed our hands, of course), and then it was time to form small balls of the dough and then flatten them out, and then fry them. An interesting side note, while this was going on, my cat had run out and I was trying to find him (I don't like him outside when it's dark...). Also there were about 15 children vying to also enter my house (I kept them at bay with glares and coloring books outside).

Not to drag the story on...but, why not? It's not like I update all the time. Maybe you all are hankering for a long, drawn out story. Drag I will. Amidst batting off children, chasing after Denny (the cat), and not-so-gently reminding the youngest brother that it's not good to rub the unfried dough on my very dirty table and then eat it, I somehow did not notice some smoke accumulating. Here is the life cycle of smoke: First, pan and smoke (we'll call this the female) meet flame (male). Flame decides to get feisty, maybe a little too hot. And so lots of smoke is born. Since I was running around doing all of this, I didn't really realize until my neighbors screamed at me (not angrily, more like in alarm) "Alicia! I think your house is on fire!" that I realized that smoke was POURING out my windows and doors.

oops.

I turned off the stove, gave the remaining uncooked dough to the kid to cook in HIS house, if he wanted, kicked everyone out, brought in the cat, and closed the windows and doors from embarrassment.

By the way, if your house is filled with smoke, the healthy option is probably not closing all of the windows and doors.

But I did, and I'm typing, so I think all of my mental faculties are still in place. Mostly.

As far as the rest of life...I've been running around trying to buy books for the school with grant money that I got (we already got some desperately needed desks and chairs). Simply put, customer service is not a strength of Dominican book sellers. I can see why patience is a virtue. You can imagine that, at times, I'm not feeling virtuous. Just to give you a little taste of how the book-finding process is going. Also, it's a little frustrating, trying to equip a school of 400 with books, as that would cost many thousands of dollars, and, gosh, that's a lot of money that I don't have. Each story book, on sale, costs at least 10 american dollars! Good golly Miss Molly! It's a good thing anything is better than nothing. But it's a bad thing that I hate settling.

Finally, school starts next week. Oh boy! It'll be hard for me to say goodbye to my summer of...running around like a freshly killed chicken (that would be with it's head cut off, some would say). Actually, come to think of it, maybe it won't be that difficult. It seems that my life is filling up with going here and there and running and sitting and waiting and breathing and other bodily functions.

Oh and babies. I forgot to mention the babies (surprise, papi!) Just kidding. But seriously, folks, about 3 of my women friends have just or are days away from giving birth! I'm surrounded by babies! They're really cute, especially because I don't have to take care of them, and they usually smile at me when I smile really big (well, maybe. They're so little, I'm not sure they have control over whether they smile or not...).

And that will be all for today. I hope you all are healthy and well and full of energy. The force be with you.

-alicia

July=whirlwind!

That's actually the spanish translation, if you didn't know. This July was certainly very busy. We'll begin with campamento superman, or camp superman for the translation-challenged. Picture around 30 5th grade boys running around, playing games, working together, bathing in a river, cleaning dishes, eating good food, making s'mores, sleeping in tents, and having a blast. And then maybe you'll have a taste of the exhausting, dirty, exhilirating, and wonderful time that we all had. One of the major themes of the camp was that every young man has the potential to act like superman, with regards to character, intelligence, health, and of course super-powers. My favorite part was the "intelligence" component, where we got to make volcanoes, made ice stick to a string with salt, and constructed towers out of dry noodles and marshmallows! So much fun! The kids' favorite part was the beautiful, cold river that ran through the camp site. More fun for them, but very refreshing.

And then I went home. Finally. The weeks I had been dreaming about for months (MONTHS) finally arrived. First I had the wedding in Orlando, which was lovely, then Danni and Leah surprised me with a beach trip, and then I went home where I did absolutely zero work and just had a great time with my family (immediate and extended). Some memorable moments were probably all trips to places where they sell things (I think Theresa almost killed me in the grocery store), the first time I saw everyone in the family (Thomas wins the award for being most excited), and every time I ate something. Which was pretty much every hour, probably even in my sleep. The food in the US is just so dang delicious!

And now, alas, alak, I am back in the Dominican Republic. I do have an exciting month coming up, though- a diversity conference this weekend with some youth, purchasing materials for the school (shopping is shopping, even if it is boring stuff like desks), catching up with my cat Denny, another conference about teaching techniques, the new group of youth volunteers arrives in the country, and sweating. Maybe that one is not exciting, but it is very warm. Also hurricanes are a definite possibility.

So the final note- yes, the new group of youth volunteers are flying into the country. Which means that I have been in this country for, wait for it, 1 year! Holey Moley!

Just kidding, this is the final note: Hello to any and all students in Ms. Bokor and Mrs. Manteiga's classes! I hope you learn to love writing (or at least typing). Here's a secret- I never had good handwriting, so I learned to type really quickly so that my teachers wouldn't complain about my sloppy assignments (I'd just type them!) Guess it's not a secret anymore.

A haiku about the US

Air conditioning

Food, friends, smiles, Chick-Fil-A game

There's no place like home

1. Do not throw toilet paper in the toilet. Ever. It will clog it. Every time.

Really that's the most important, so I'll just stop the list there. Let that one sink in.

The last two point five weeks have been a busy, exhilirating, exhausting, fulfilling blur. First I had three visitors from the states- Alex, Chosei, and Haley. We spent some time in the capital, we jumped off some waterfalls (I know they say "don't go chasing waterfalls," but when in Rome...) and we went on a wonderfully fun, hot, entertaining hike with about 40 kids and adults from my community. They brought toothbrushes and toothpastes by the suitcase-load, so we got to start distributing those (along with a little educational lecture) and they helped put up a mural of the world on the side of the school wall. They played with my kids, helped me cook, clean, and really boosted my popularity. It was probably the most fun I've had since coming here and was very gratifying to spend time with people in my site.

And THEN my sisters came, and of course, that was amazing. We had a fun night in the campo (I use the word "fun" more to mean "adventure," which, as you all know, may or may not include actual fun, but in this case it did include some). Michelle became well acquainted with my gato Denny (who is more like a Tiger, if you ask me) and learned to bucket flush a toilet, Theresa learned to wash dishes rustic-style, and both learned what happens when the garbage people decide to stop coming and my neighbor decides to let her dog rummage through my trash. And then we visited Tio Feli at the beach and got tanned and pampered, and that was lovely.

With the help of Haley, I finally had my reading celebration. Ten of my students were invited, and, despite the rain, my burnt hand (which resulted in delicious brownies), and my destroyed computer (no music = more fun games!), everyone had a wonderful time, including myself. I am still reading with my students and am spending more quality time with my neighborhood kids. If any of you haven't colored in a good long time, I recommend it. It's fun, and when you're done, you have a pretty picture that you can put on your wall.

Another event which should be highlighted in detail was the mural-painting process. To paint a map of the world on the wall (important because the classrooms don't have maps, among other reasons), all I had to do was buy paint, brushes, find an image of a map online, find a projector to borrow, project it on the wall when there was electriciy, and have people trace the countries on the wall with pencil, then paint them in, then label the countries. No problem, right? Well, first, there was no electricy. Then the electricity came on, but didn't work in my office, so we found another electricity source to project the world onto the wall. Then the sun was too strong to see the projected image on the wall. So I lined up the kids behind the projector with their arms in the air to block the sun light. It didn't really work, but it was really cute. Eventually, a neighbor lent us some sheets to block out the light, which helped. After a little while of some quality tracing, the lightbulb in the projector burnt out. So then we finished the countries by looking at the image on a computer and freehanding it. If you've never freehanded the countries of southeast asia, I encourage it. It's a good exercise in patience.

So we finish that, and then start painting (all with help of kids). Turns out most of the colors require about 10 coats (mild exaggeration) to look good, but that's ok. Also turns out that many countries need some last minute adjusting (that can happen when one freehands a map of the world). Finally we labeled the countries, and wrote "Our World" in Español, Kreyol, and English. And now we have a fairly accurate, beautiful map of the mundo that I'm really proud to have contributed to. The kids love staring at it and practicing the country names. There was an initial shock when the DR turned out to be much smaller than Russia, but I told them that Russia was really cold so then the kids felt better.

The next few weeks will see me reading and playing with kids, doing some end-of-the-year activities with the staff at the school, taking some kids to Camp Superman (and all-boys outdoors camp), and then GOING HOME! Obviously, I am having a hard time containing my enthusiasm, and if you are reading this, then I hope to get to see you.

live long and prosper

-alicia

Napule.

"What's up? ....Aight." "Que lo que?..........ahi." Yes, Alicia has learned yet another way to informally greet people...this time in Kreyol, one of the many languages spoken by Dominicans of Haitian descent and Haitians. Does this mean I'm tri-lingual now? haha. I'm barely scraping by with mi Espanol. This does mean that I attended a conference on Haitian-Dominican relations with two men from my campo, and that we have come out with energy and a purpose. Well, another purpose.

"But, Alicia. There were Haitians there?" Yes, (student who just learned how to read), there were. They're my friends. "They're your friends?" Now, come on, this student/friend is 10. How on earth did he learn to be like this? He has Haitian classmates and neighbors. There are about 1 million Haitian immigrants in this country of 10 million (so, a lot). More with the earthquake. And the attitude of this student is, unfortunately, shared by many. Luckily there seems to be an interest in my campo about helping in the nearby bateys, (extremely impoverished and marganized, largely Haitian communities originally founded to house sugar cane cutters and later pineapple harvesters...but now there's none of that in my neck of the woods, so they have no work) so we're going to start doing questionnaires and interviews shortly, to see what is needed and what we can do. Most importantly, I do not plan to be the leader of this committee, so that, hopefully, it's something that lasts awhile. But I get ahead of myself. The important things to take out of this are that 1) I went to a neat conference 2) Haitians and Haitian-Dominicans got a chance to share their experiences and difficulties with us, and 3) My community, so far, wants to do something to make their world a little more just. And that is good.

At long last...summer is here! Right now, many of my students (most of who have been promoted to the next grade...for better or for worse, I guess) are in the two weeks of "recuperation." This means 90 minutes of catch-up every day (except holidays). Kind of like summer school. Since some of my students have been a little lax with their attendance, I chase them down at their homes and make them study with me there. Hahaha.

But, wait, we have exciting news. And what is it? I shall have 2, possibly 3 visitors flying in on the 10th. I'm hoping to get us some cultural visiting time in the capital, some beach time, and then some play-with-my-kids, paint-a-mural-at-the-school time. And then 2 of them are leaving and the 3rd is staying on with me for another week, during which we will continue chasing down my students and force-teaching them. But, you know, with patience, smiles, and fun. Some of you may say I'm dedicated, but, really, I have no social life here. Just so that you get the story straight.

Speaking of a social life, nothing boosts popularity with the local adults like getting a wonderful spell of irregularity. When my neighbors found out that I had been sick for a few days, they 1) demanded that I let them in my house, 2) force-fed me guava juice (which is gross but really does the trick) 3) dragged me to the local clinic, and 4) made me let them clean my house, including my bathroom. I balked at the bathroom (well, actually, I balked at all of it. I mean, just leave me alone, right?) but then my neighbor was like "Alicia, do you mean to tell me that when I'm sick you're not going to clean my bathroom?" and I was like "Um, if you are spouting liquid out of the wrong orifices, there is no way in perdition that I would volunteer to clean your bathroom." Well, that's what I was like. That's not what I said, per se. So she cleaned my bathroom. Gross.

Anywho, now all of these women have something to talk to me about (I guess me working with their kids and living in their neighborhood did not provide sufficient talking material). Alicia, you're better? Any more parasites? Thus I have some budding friendships with people who are not children, and that is wonderful.

I've been here for awhile now. The bucket baths are no problem. I don't mind a lack of variety in wardrobe or food. I enjoy that I can only afford to walk everywhere in my town. I don't need a tv, a fridge, a blowdrier, a clotheswasher, a spatula. But, for the love of all that is good and holy, why is there always something living crawling on me?! This is getting old. No matter how many times I bucket bathe- as much as 1 times a day- I still always find something crawling on me. Always. Sheesh. Gosh. So, yes, while I have largely adjusted to the physical demands of this gig, I am so looking forward to my little American vacay in one month and 6 days (but who'se counting?). I plan on spending 2 weeks completely clean and bug free. Just say no. To bugs.

Thanks for reading. Google just sent me an email to let people advertise on my blog. I did a little research, and discovered that, based off of the number of hits I've received, I would have earned approximately 1 percent of .25 cents thus far (or something like that). Think of all I'm missing out on.

And have a wonderful week!

That is the question on the lips of every child here below the age of seven. You see, I'm not big with sharing personal information here, mostly because the community sport is gossip; anything I say, the community knows within the next 24 hours. So when the kiddies ask me how old I am, I reply "cien." One Hundred. Then they cock their heads at me, look at their friends, and giggle. Usually they say "wow, you're really old. And you don't have any kids? You should have more wrinkles." To which I respond "well, you know, Americans are different. I also don't have a belly button." And then they giggle some more. Crazy americans. Except that a week ago, I had an extremely perceptive girl tell me "you are NOT cien." And I said, okay, how old do you think I am? After a few pensive moments, she replied "noventa." Ninety. So I looked at her sheepishly and replied "you're right. I'm 90," and she smiled, knowing she had gotten the truth at last.

I am beginning to see the end of the school year, and have already made plans for the summer (plan an engineering/science club, write grants for latrines, school supplies, and books, help declare some children- get them birth certificates- and tutor some more students). I'm very excited for the change of environment, but nobody can tell me exactly when the school year ends and the break begins. I've heard that I have 2 months off, and I've heard that I just have July off. Not even the principle knows, because apparently the Secretary of Education hasn't said when classes will end yet. Just so you all get a feel for the way things work here.

I'm going to tell a story. Once, there was a man who was elected king of his country. He had lots of knights, who were in charge of provinces. These knights were chosen by their communities. Most people chose these knights because they handed out beers to their peasants, or promised to donate a stove to one person, a pot to another if they chose them (because, you know, all knights know who vote for them). So the peasants were appeased because every once in a while, a lucky soul would receive a handout (encouraging the culture of "give me, give me, because you have and I don't" which was both pervasive and destructive). The knights were intelligent, as was the king, knowing that their peasants would revolt if they knew what was really going on. So they purposely created an educational system designed to teach their peasants to love the knights and the founding kings of the country, and to not delve too deeply or think critically about anything. This was easy to do, because the king elected to spend only a tiny amount of his national budget on schools for the peasants. He was not worried, because the children of his family and his friends' families could afford to pay for schools that taught skills like how to think, schools that were modeled after a kingdom located not too far away, the most powerful kingdom in the world.

I hope you liked the story. Also, elections are this Sunday. It should be exciting. Can't wait to see what changes here. We have to stay in our sites (nay, in our houses) because, evidently, people get drunk and violent.

I had an adventure recently. After having a pancake party in my house for several of my students, they asked if we could hike a nearby hill. Since my usual Saturday student (an adult learning to read) had cancelled, I replied that we could if their parents said yes. So while we walked around my campo asking parents for permission from the parents, children in my little community of houses heard the news and gathered; by the time we left to hike the loma, I had a team of 25 children with me. This was no ordinary hill hike; we ended up crossing streams, sliding down muddy hills, throwing cow patties at each other, eating mangos, ducking under and crossing over lots of barbed wire, getting VERY muddy, and having a great time. And not one child fought (which is a miracle). Every time I see one of them, they ask when we're going again, and about 50 other children have asked if they can come next time. Oh boy oh boy!

Thank you for reading. It is now the season of mangos, so while you're paying three dollars for one, think of me, eating up to 5 of these juicy fruits daily for the bargain price of nothing. YUMMM!

-alicia :-D

Translation: Give me a piece of pizza.

No, I do not literally want a piece of pizza. (That is a lie. I would trade my cat's pinky nail for a piece of Papa Johns). The correct reading of that phrase signifies that a student has worked her (or his) way through the "Yo Se Leer" manual (I can read manual), and are officially no longer illiterate. The letter "Z" is the last letter they learn (though the letters are not taught alphabetically; that's just how it ends). And now seven students at my school have completed this manual!

Some of them were nonchalant about the accomplishment; they probably would have learned to read on their own in a while, if they cared to pursue reading. Others were ecstatic. All who have finished by this point are intelligent kids who really just needed a little nudge and 1:1 attention. I have said it before, and I will say it again: I will continue to push and push until every kid at my school who wants to learn to read can read.

I treat my students with a bit of tough love. If they come in not having done their homework, I put on my stern face, and give them scenarios. "I know you watched TV last night. You can read instead of watching TV," or, "I know you have to take care of the cows. Bring your flashcards and practice them while they're eating," or, "If you have time to eat, you have time to read." Okay, so maybe I only used that one once, and the kid knew I was kidding but it made my point and got him to crack a smile. And maybe I give some of their parents the run around, too..."It is normal for a kid to want to play instead of doing homework. It is YOUR responsability to make your kid do their homework," or, "no, kids do NOT learn well in an environment where their parents yell and beat them. Just so you know." You know, just so they know.

I'm hoping to have 15 children at a "I can read!" celebration in June (students who have completed the manual by the time of the party will be invited). My book club has finished; that we will call neither a success nor a failure. Some days were successful. Some days were not. Every kid who came had a good time while they were there, so that's good, but almost no kid did the assigned reading for homework, so that's bad. Will try another book club in the near-ish future, when the mood strikes me.

I also started a girl's club, since the book club finished. That was what I like to call a failure. A lot of my volunteer colleagues have been frustrated because they have meetings- important meetings which could shape the future of their communities- and nobody shows up. Up until now, that particular frustration has not really affected me, because I go to school and students are there and I pull them out of class and then I leave and that is that. So the good thing about my girl's group experience (after months of petitioning the local politician we finally got permission to use the library, but after 3 consecutive Sundays of nobody but alicia showing up at the meetings despite promises from the girls to arrive, I made the executive decision to discontinue the group) is that I can now empathize better with my fellow volunteers.

But I'm really not satisfied. I think I will seek out new leaders and try again, because I really want these girls to discuss the gender inequalities which have shaped their lives and families. And maybe see that there is another way of life that does not include indentured servitude to their husbands (who more than likely have another wife or girlfriend on the side). I'm not bitter, I'm just honest.

Other neat things: most of you probably know by now that I've been fighting with tarantulas ever since the rains began. One day, before making the trek to school, I saw 2 little suckers crawling around outside of my house. So I, in my pink teacher suit, looked for a rock and killed them, cursing them in English and probably looking crazy. And then of course I looked up and saw my neighbor across the street laughing at me. Anywho, I'm pretty sure he sprayed something, becuase I haven't seen anymore since. Nice neighbor.

The last bit of big news in my campo is that this very same neighbor had a ginormous snake in his house. It was pretty exciting, because at the time there were about 10 kids hanging around at my house. So they all go running over to see, and tell me, "come on! look! now they're going to kill it!" I didn't really have in interest in seeing it, but who can say no to 10 demanding kids (not me) so I caught a peek and, well, it was big. So then my neighbor burned a tire because that smoke wards of snakes (and also kills lung cells in every creature that breathes air...). My favorite part, though, was when my 4-year-old neighbor was describing the snake to me. "Remember, Alicia! It was this big (stretches his hands out like we used to do when we said 'I love you this much!') and it was rojo (red) like this color (and then he points to his green shirt)." So freaking cute!

Maybe that is my problem. I think all the kids here are so cute. Even when they're being challenging, I can't stay mad at them, because then I picture them scrunched over the literacy manual trying so hard to learn, and then it's all over. That stuff about tough love was a lie. I'm a big softy.

I constantly think about my visit home in 2.5 months. Mostly I think about the people and then the food. Like, I would love a Zebra cake or a chocolate covered Entemann's donut. And some Papa John's. And maybe BBQ Fritos. You know, the healthy stuff. And then maybe to sit on a comfy couch in an air conditioned room and watch TV. And I'll probably drink water out of every tap and hose and shower. You know, just because I can.

Happy May Day! I hope if you are reading this that 1) you enjoyed the read and 2) you are healthy, well, and full of joy!

con mucho amor,

Alicia

Don’t think that the lack of recent bloggage means that nothing is up. Au contrary, mi friend.

At school, we started using a schedule I’ve made. However, from day one, things like “oh, we changed his class…he left the school…can you see this person and these people…this parent is here…” have popped up. All day. So, while the schedule was a good guide, I’m making another one, and have a feeling it’s something I will have to revise every other week. But that’s okay, because where there’s a schedule, there’s organization. Right?

I’m not sure if anyone is learning anything so far, which is very frustrating. I can say, though, that the students seem to really enjoy coming to my classes/tutoring, and that they’re very enthusiastic about learning while I’m staring at them with my patient smile and laughable American accent.

I started a conflict resolution group with some of the more rambunctious children. Evidently that is not something one with a non-thorough grasp of the language should undertake, unless she wants chaos. Like, fighting before the kids even walk in her office. Luckily, chaos is my middle name. Oh wait…no it’s not… so I’m putting that particular group on hold. That is good for 2 reasons: more time to tutor (we’re talking lots and lots of kids here who don’t know how to read and should), plus I’m thinking of pairing this particular group with a bunch of sciency-engineering activities. You know, to make it educational and fun and interesting. And who doesn’t love science? Plus plus, they don’t really have science here (science class: today it is….”raining!”…good. Who are the fathers of our country?...)

The book club I’ve started on the weekends is a lot of fun, and the kids seem to enjoy themselves. I’m thinking of starting a schoolwide reading program (like the accelerated reader program) where kids get to read books and take tests to earn points and win prizes. Reading here isn’t big (at all) in part because books are expensive. But not because it’s not fun (book club is proof of that). We’ll see how that turns out. All I have to do is acquire books, prizes, write tests, and get the teachers and students on board. Facil. A piece of biscocho.

Also, in other news, I have recruited a few people to help me with the children, which means we can tutor more at one time. This is week one of that particular experiment, so keep your fingers crossed.

Outside of school and book club, life is plodding along. Like an elephant, you could say. My cat, Denny, is great, except when it’s 5 in the morning and he’s scratching my door until it opens so that he can jump on my mosquitero and proceed to attack me until I give him whatever he wants (usually food but sometimes just getting up and kicking him out seems to make him happy). I can understand his former owner’s nickname for him… “diablo”…but besides that he’s great. He plays well with the neighborhood kids who are always hanging around, and he purrs whenever I pet him, which makes me happy. If I’ve managed to help nobody here, at least I’ve made a cat content. Right?

Of my neighbors, there are some nice ones and there are some loud ones, and there are lots of fun children. Here in the DR, the concepts of “privacy” and “alone time” don’t really exist, so sometimes the kiddies follow me home from school and then wait for me by my door. But sometimes I say “I need to be by myself. Remember, I’m a crazy American” and they nod their head in a serious, solemn way and let me be. Good kids.

Finally, you all know how, around hurricane season (Floridians know this) the fire marshals always say “do NOT light candles, they’re a fire hazard.” Well, here in the dr, we don’t have fire marshals, or good electricity, so I have taken to lighting candles. You know, so I can see. Turns out, lighting a candle and then leaving the room and then thinking “wow, my candle is really powerful” actually means that my candle fell over and I lost a chair cushion and a chair in the blaze of march 2010. Oops.

So, without further ado, the thing that I do best:

Ode to the fallen chair

Hard and sturdy, you were not

Your wood was soft and wormy

Nice too look at…not that either

Your cushion was worn and you were ugly

A place to sit….that you provided….and for that, my toosh is indebted

So from my toosh, and from the neighborhood tooshes as well, so long.

Your end was far more glorious than your life.

Live long and prosper…

-alicia

Ps still no visit from sisters to report, but I here that’s in the making. Did get visit with Tio Feli and Tia Patti, and that was lovely.

Pps and also got to visit with Maria T and family, and that was also lovely.

This week, something wonderful happened. When I stopped by the Peace Corps office and checked my mail, there was a very, very special package for me: cards from some of my students from the Sisters Academy. They included very nice messages, and most mentioned the snow- as everyone there witnessed my very first snowfall (and the ensuing running around celebratory dance...despite the fact that I was teaching...).

I am so, so incredibly lucky to have worked at a place like that.

Back in my campo, I have passed the 3-month mark. This week I have been at an inservice training, and learned all about working together with my project partner (the school), doing home visits and working with marginalized youth, raising grant moneys, staying safe, staying healthy, staying sane, making a plan for the year, different camps and clubs for kids, and some more fun stuff. I also got to play dominoes almost every night, which was tons and tons of fun, and got some books to start a book club (Tuck Everlasting...but in Espanol). It was wonderful to catch up with the other youth volunteers and learn about the projects that they are all working on.

A lot of time was spent hammering out my first year at the school. My ideas have varied, as the demand for work is huge. I must admit, sometimes I have stayed in bed in the mornings because I could not handle the pressure I felt. The diagnostic revealed what I expected (the school wants help with learning challenges, discipline, parental involvement, afterschool activities, fundraising, building a new high school, AND for me to be a full-time psychologist. Also to form a mother's group and start some income generating projects for the community. And teach English. To everyone. You know, in my free time). So, clearly, I cannot do all of that. I'm pretty sure I'm going to work on discipline in the classrooms (set up some more token systems in more classes), create didactic materials (alphabets, numbers, etc.) for classrooms (because that helps with reading), look for volunteers to help me teach kids who learn a little more slowly, and set up a girls' club, a group for kids with conflict problems, a book club, and a sexual health club (it has a cooler name in spanish and it's really fun). And then maybe I'll tutor some, 1:1, if there's time.

Before I left Bmore, Sr. Debbie told me that she was concerned that I didn't know how to say "no." Well, gosh, she was right. So here's what's going to happen: I'm going to burn out, or I'm going to learn to set my limits. I'm leaning towards the latter.

So the week was filled with highs (seeing everyone) and lows (because I am only one person and I want to do everything). The running water and flushing toilets was definitely a high, as was the amazing food that I didn't have to cook.

In other news, I'm completely moved out. Which means that Hotel Alicia is officially in business. The amenities may be...rustic, but the company is good :-D So far, no rats, but maybe there are large spiders. But that's why we have a mosquito net. Word on the street is that certain sisters of mine may or may not be visiting soonish. That would be really cool. aHEM.

Also, in other news, many of you all have asked me what supplies my school needs/how to send stuff, etc. I learned about an exciting grant: Peace Corps will pay for the shipping of materials that are going to help my site. That is, if you have a bunch of children's vitamins, or books in spanish, or art supplies, or shoes, or sports equipment (you get the picture), and want to send them to me, you fill out a form, and then it's free for you and free for me! (Well, not free for you, because you have to actually have the materials, but the shipping is free). So, if you are interested in bulk-shipping supplies, or orchestrating a supply drive within an organization or yourself, let me know!

Thank you all for every memo, every letter, every call, every email.

-Alicia

ps the title refers to a quote that the girls at SAB said every day. I'm going to translate it into spanish and put it on the wall in my office. The quotation:

"Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't realize how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish! And what your potential is!" - Anne Frank

I don't think that most kids hear that enough (though I certainly did), but I really believe it- if I didn't, I don't suppose I'd be in the profession of helping children!

Last weekend, I began the process of moving into my new house. Why did I begin so early? Because the house is vacant, I have a key, and the kids needed something to do. Kids? What do kids have to do with moving? Well, you give them each a box full of your crap, and you form a little parade (so it's fun) from your old house to your new house (which, usually an 8 minute walk, takes about 20 minutes with 6 little kids). About halfway to our destination, two of the kids asked for a bola (free ride) on motorcycle. He wanted to take me but I refused, so instead he took some of the kids and some of the stuff they were carrying. Mercifully, everything ended up at the proper destination (kids and stuff).

After that, I treated the kids to some nice, sugary refresco (soda). Which, of course, kept them moving around.

At school, things have been moving, too...I keep evaluating new students, and re-organizing my schedule with the hopes of seeing each of the 60 children that need help enough times during the week to actually help them out. It looks like I'm going to form several small classes, and then work several times individually with the kids who need it the most, if all goes as it should. That is a pretty big if.

And the last bit of moving...today was a holiday (I found about it yesterday), which means no school! So I went to the capital and helped out with a disaster relief project which is putting together bags of goods for the Haitian earthquake victims. I have never participated in a large-scale disaster relief project, but from what I did and saw, it consists of lots of moving. Move these bags here, move this food into these bags, move these bags into the bigger bags, move these boxes here, move these bags in that truck, and, most importantly, move out of the way!

It's been awhile since I've highlighted a kid, so here I go. Daniel (not his real name) is 9 and is in the 3rd grade. He always has the biggest smile on his face, and I have never seen him in a bad mood. When we started working together in November, he couldn't recognize any vowels. Now he can consistently recognize and write them (a small victory is still a victory). The interesting thing is, though, that his teacher told him he didn't have to see me anymore, and I told him he didn't have to see me anymore, because his teacher now knows that he can learn just like any other kid- just at a slower rate. But, despite all this, he runs to my office every day, saying "is it my turn?" (big grin). So, how can I say no to that? I suppose it's easy..."no"...but of course I don't. I'm a sucker for a kid with a smile. I'm just a sucker for kids in general. So we're continuing on, and, no, I haven't promised him anything crazy like a bike if he learns to read, and I'm not convinced I can get him to read anytime soon, but I've got 2 years here. So we'll see.

I am gradually getting used to the decibel level of the school (very high), and have daily ups and downs (ups: "yay! she did her homework!" downs: "how the heck can I help all these kids/when is my Spanish going to get better/I really need some caffeine!"). As usual, I really appreciate your comments, emails, phone calls, and letters! I received the yearly update from SAB, and it almost made me cry!

Continue to keep the Haitian victims in your thoughts and contributions. Thanks for reading.

-alicia

Firstly, my town did not feel the earthquake, though its effects are felt throughout the country- several people I know have relatives who are victims. Please keep Haiti in your thoughts and prayers (and contributions).

Happy New Year!This year has been filled with new experiences. I hope you all are healthy, well, and full of energy.

I spent the new year with Maria T's family. They were very nice, as usual, and the food was amazing (as she is a professional caterer). Unfortunately, I had no voice (some infection or another) so the conversation was a little one-sided, but that's okay. The baby (Samuel) was cute as ever, and they let me play with him a little bit. When I returned to Don Juan, there was a big surprise waiting for me: Americans!

Americans? Yes. And not just any Americans. College guys (plus a priest). Sweet, right? (and I'm not just talking about the priest). A group of Sigma Chi-ers from Rochester came down to build a chapel in a nearby community. And guess who got to translate? Moi. Let me tell you, that was quite the confidence booster. They also let me move around some dirt and cement blocks, so I got to put in my bit for strong women. Most of the time, though, I made connections with the community- drinking coffee, playing dominoes, getting proposed to, and being followed by a hoard of children. Hard work, but someone had to do it! They went out nightly (as did I), and so I got to experience a new side of Don Juan. It was wonderful to be around so much English, and to hear people voicing the same thoughts that I've had jumbled in my head for the last few months.

And then they took me to an all-inclusive for a day. That. Was. Wonderful.

Now they are gone, and life is getting back to life. Yesterday I visited a batey (the one where I received the bites), but this time with pants. I tried to sign up people for medical coverage, and am slowly progressing in my quest to get to know this community, so that I can really provide some good services during the summer months. School has started up again, too, and I have a new list of students to work with (in addition to the old list of students I've been working with). The interviews I've done have shown me that the teachers really want me to work with the children who have learning problems, and the parents really want me to provide after school programs. The priest told me he wants me to break the cycle of poverty in Don Juan. So we'll see what I can do. Again, I am super grateful to have so much work just waiting to be done. But sometimes I wish there were more of me to go around, you know?

Mostly right now I'm avoiding getting started. I have to present a diagnostic of the school in a few weeks, so that should be interesting. My house has been officially given the seal of approval by the Peace Corps, and I had to give Sombra back to her mother. I will be receiving kitty number two in February.

Finally, as I'm doing a diagnostic of the school, financial matters came up. The priest let me know that families can sponsor a student for 15 dollars a month (currently there are about 180 students of the 400 who have sponsors). If you'd like to sponsor a child, let me know! Also, the school desperately needs a copy machine- so if anyone has a hookup with HP, or suggestions of sponsors/grants, let me know. I love a challenge, and I love copying things, so this seems like the perfect quest.

Stay regular. Keep it real. Happy New Year.

-alicia

When I was a kid, I used to count everything- the number of steps from my house to the video rental store, the number of calories in a can of tomato sauce, the number of cereal flakes in my bowl, the number of times I could play a song through in my head without taking a breath. That sort of thing. So, obviously, I was overjoyed when I found a new thing I could count: The number of insect bites on my being. Came out to a nice round 100.

Let's start at the beginning. This is Christmas break, which means a vacation from 24:7 at the school, and more time to spend with the community, the host family, making myself be social (or socially awkward), and getting to know the surrounding communities. One of the sisters invited me to a nearby batay. Remember that batays are largely Haitian communities, founded originally by the Dominican government to house workers who harvested sugar cane (and then pineapples). The crops came and went, and the workers, who had formed lives and families here, stayed. These communities are among the poorest in the country. Whatever image pops into your head when you think "dirt poor"...that should give you some idea.

They were very warm and welcoming towards the sister and me, and invited me back. I shall return, and I hope to find time to start some permanent projects with the community (not just for them). And don't worry; most residents there aren't covered with bites, like I am- I guess that was my parting gift. One of my favorite things to do now is walk around in my community with shorts on, and listen to people say "ooh! Look at the bites on the rubia!"

In other news, I've started playing another child-like game here: How Many Dominicans Will Walk In On Alicia While She's Using the Bano. It's a fun game, and since I've created it, it always ends in a tie, because I like those. And there have been many, by the way. Privacy, it seems, is quickly disappearing from my life.

Christmas was lovely. I got to see Uncle Matt and develop an extended family in Santo Domingo, which was wonderful. Good food, good fun, good times, and really, surprisingly nice people.

In Don Juan, Christmas night, I went out for the 1st time while living in my community. Me and my host mom's son met up with his wife and a bunch of friends at an outdoor club. It was neat; drinks and dancing (not much of either by me, but I enjoyed being out of the house) when all of a sudden, two large men started fighting. In my mind, I had visions of Hillsborough High cafeteria fights, and tried to get a better view. Not a good idea, it turns out; luckily, the father of the son who brought me dragged me away and we started running (along with the rest of the Dominicans). I thought this was strange (didn't everyone else want to see the fight?) until I heard gun shots. Oh. But still, very exciting. When I got home, my dona was freaking out. She asked if I was in shock, or if I was okay. I, of course, was fine, and remembered with a certain longing my old barrio in West Baltimore.

I also got to go to a Dominican wedding ceremony and then reception. At church, the couple exchanged vows during the normal mass, and it was very nice. And then, that night, all of the teachers brought something (I contributed M&Ms from home, which were a big hit) and we fed the newly married couple in their house. It was a really nice way of doing things, and a way for us, the community, to show the couple how happy we were for them, instead of the couple having to shell out thousands for us.

Speaking of the community...I have gotten to get quite a few interviews done for the diagnostic of the school that I'm working out. It seems like, from the incomplete data that I have now, that the kids want more breaks, the parents want more activities for the kids outside of school, and the teachers want me to work with kids who have learning problems (around 30 in the morning and 30 in the afternoon). So, looks like someone is going to have to get more organized. Also, if you're having a little "what am I doing with my life?" crisis, you are more than welcomed to come help me out down here.

Which brings me to my last exciting bit of news...I have a place to live now! My house is a little paradise. I bet when you think of Peace Corps, you think of mud hut with thatched roof. No. Picture this: Cement floors. Cement walls. Cement ceilings. Windows. Bars on the windows. 3 bedrooms. Folks, it does not get any better than that. The only downside to this dream house is that about 50 of my students live within 2 minutes of me (in identical houses). But that's what doors are for! I will not have much in the way of furniture, but, if you are reading this blog, than consider yourself invited to come visit! I will not make you work unless you want to :-D

Have a very happy New Year. I think you should all make a vow to take time out to appreciate the blessings you have (that I took for granted). And what a better way to do that than come visit a tropical paradise! haha. hem.

Big abrazo,

alicia

Merry Christmas!

The last few weeks have been exciting as usual. I've decided to start highlighting certain students, so that you all can have a little taste of the wonderful people I get to work with.

We'll call this first one "Max." Max spends most of his time on the streets. He has parents, but one is only around on the weekends, the other at nights. As you can imagine, a child who spends all his free time doing whatever he wants in the street is probably going to have some problems in the classroom, with authority, and also not receive too much praise/affection. All that is true, or shall I say, was true, with Max. When I got to the school, his teacher was beside herself; this kid is intelligent, with a lot of potential, but so hard to manage in a classroom! The day before I started working with him, he had been locked in a closet under the stairs because the teacher felt physically threatened.

We had many conversations, Max and I, and it turns out that he really started to enjoy coming to my office (again, I cannot attribute that to my conversational abilities, because they are still pretty limited). After a few weeks, we started a program; if he's good for a day, he gets a sticker on his chart. We decided on a reward that he'd get, and then the number of good days it would take for him to earn it; he said 5, I said a year, and we decided on 100. He was very reasonable. The only problem: the thing he wanted, that he has to work for 100 days for, is a bike. (So, another talent I have is giving away things that I don't have yet). I'll figure out a way to get one, when the time comes. But in the meantime, he hasn't been kicked out of a class, his teacher is beside herself with happiness, and I get a big grin and a hug every time I see him.

So that is my Christmas present, and I couldn't ask for anything better (well, maybe a similar story for the rest of the children, but I have 2 years for that, right?)

As far as life news...school has officially wound down for the Christmas break. Over the vacations, I'm going to be tutoring students and interviewing parents/teachers about the school and the youth in the community. Also I hear a certain Uncle Matt will be paying me a visit, and there's the whole holiday thing with my Don Juan family (I think it entails a lot of eating and the possibility of dancing, but we shall see). I should be able to keep myself pretty busy, which is another great gift.

Interesting things that have happened that wouldn't happen in the states (probably): Coming back from Santo Domingo, our gua gua had to stop to let a big bull cross the street (it would have taken us out). My dona provided me with a new breakfast: bread with a mixture of ketsup and mayonnaise. And I still have to put on suntan lotion- days before Navidad. (That one was to make you all jealous!)

I have officially started my search for a house to live; I can move out on January 28. I have already purchased my first items for the house that I do not yet have. If all else fails, I have a table, 4 chairs, 2 floor cushions, and a 2 burner stove top.

Yesterday, I got to visit with Tio Feli and Tia Patti. It was so wonderful to see someone from home. I also got to meet their friends in the country. I had the best food I've had in awhile, and some wonderful conversations (though they made me speak in Spanish most of the time). We also got to see a Chrismas concert that some schoolchildren put on, and that was very nice.

No new parasites (a third Christmas present), and the kitten has done wonders with keeping animals out of my room. She is growing bigger, and I think I will miss her when I have to give her back in January. Except I won't miss her for long, because I'm getting a new one for good the week after that. Woohoo!

Hope you all are enjoying the Christmas season, the food and the weather and the music and the friends. Miss you all!

-alicia

I should not be left around animals. A few years ago, we were watching a hampster from my mom's classroom over the winter holidays. He was a little chubby, so I put him on the hampster wheel, and told him (not so gently) to dance. Instead of dancing on the wheel, he cowered in the corner of his cage. For 3 days.

Thus, I was a little apprehensive when another volunteer asked me to babysit her kitten for a month while she took a much-needed break in the US (volunteers who decide to stay an extra year get a month in the states). I've never had a kitten, and while they are decidedly easier than dogs, they are still challenging. As in, this one has figured out how to climb up me when I am standing up straight, how to position herself on top of my mosquitero, and has baptised far too many areas of my room (I'm sure you can guess with what...). She is very cute (though most call her fea), and wonderful company, given her tendancy to listen and not speak above me. Incidently, she is equally proficient in English and Spanish.

In other news, I received my first ever marriage proposal today. It was very romantic. I asked when the gua gua would pass through. He asked for my hand. And then asked for my name. I would have said yes, of course, but Dominicans tend to treat their pets differently than Americans do, and I just can't do that to my new feline friend.

In life news...I taught my first class in Spanish. The topic this week was on values. My group is comprised of 10 7th graders, and most of them seemed happy to be out of their real classes to spend some time in my office. As it turns out, most kids are happy to come to my office. As in, I walk into the 3rd grade classroom to retrieve one student who needs to work on letter recognition, and 40 students stand up and start screaming "Alicia! Take me! Pick me!" It is cute and embarrassing and not cute. All at the same time. Kind of like the marriage proposal. The good news is that the students are eager to get to know me. The bad news is that they are ALL eager to get to know me. That is a little overwhelming (think 400 plus students).

Which brings me to another point of this rather random post. I have become the center of much attention in my community. Those of you who know me (all of you, I imagine) know that I would rather not receive much attention. Being foreign does have its perks; people are quick to ask if I need assistance or am lost, I often get the good seats on the gua guas, and I get tons of hugs from children every day. However, it is a little surreal to hear my name (or my nickname, Alicia- linda/Americana/rubia) everywhere I go. Fortunately, I have kept as low a profile as possible- my only offensive behaviors have been leaving the house wearing wrinkled clothes (if I don't care, why should anyone else? But they do).

Thank you for all of your support. I imagine that, with time, life will get easier for me. I recognize that I am fortunate that the life I'm living right now is a choice, and that, if I choose, I can escape the poverty I am surrounded by, an option that noone else in my community has.

One more tidbit from this week; since I've been talking all over the place, might as well continue. I had a chat with the American priest who lives next to the school, and he shared his motto with me. "Alicia," he said, "I am here to observe. I am here to help out however I can. I am not here to worry." And I guess that's the best I can do, too. There is plenty to worry about- the child whose mother burns his hands, the children with no clothes outside of their school uniforms, the students who get more food at school (which is not very much) than at home, those who are 14 years old and cannot recognize vowels, mothers who get beaten by their husbands, fathers who leave their families for women the age of their children...etc.

So how am I not supposed to worry? Not sure, but I don't think it does any good (well, I know it does no good). I suppose I'm about to embark on the long process of changing my nature, because it seems like that is the best strategy at this point.

Okay that is all. Have a wonderful week, and GO GATORS!!!

-alicia

So I have passed the infamous 3 week mark.

Maybe it´s not that infamous. Maybe it means nothing. But I have been working and living at my site for 3 weeks now.

Here is how my days go:

I wake up at 5 or 6, depending on when the Evangelical church next door decides to start blaring the Good News. I then take a nice bucket shower and get ready for school, and then eat breakfast, which is usually oatmeal, cereal, or toast with ketsup. Sometimes there is hot chocolate or juice, usually there is coffee (strong and sweet).

Then I kill time in my room until it is time to go to school, which starts at 8. The walk to school is okay, usually I end up getting my shoes dirty or muddy, which is fine with me, and greeting about 30 people, because you can´t really walk by someone and not greet them here. Recently, people have started asking me when I´m going to give english classes. I´m not sure yet.

Upon my arrival at school, I go to my new office (I have had luck in my life with scoring great offices). And then I start summoning the students. Sometimes teachers drop by with requests for me to see other students, or to help them do something with their class, or sometimes I plan classes I´m going to start giving next week. At 12:30 I go home and eat lunch. Sometimes I rest, but if the house is noisy or busy, which it is more often than not, I return to my office and do more planning or studying up on spanish or counseling stuff. Then I repeat, except with older children, until around the time school ends (6) or until I can´t take the noise anymore. I am a volunteer, so I can come and go as I please, but I don´t really have anywhere else to be and there is a lot for me to do at the school, so I usually stay.

Then I walk back home, change, and eat dinner. Then if there is not electricity, which is more often than not, I play with my 9 year old neighbor. Sometimes cards, sometimes we draw, sometimes we read. Sometimes other kiddies are around, and I make strange voices, which they love.

If there is electricity, I might watch some TV with my doña or study. If not, I go to bed pretty early. Talk on the phone (if anyone from the states calls me...which I love...) and then dormir. Or listen to the symphony of sounds available to me: neighbors screaming at their children, cattle running through the streets (yes, that happened), dogs barking, roosters crowing, babies crying, rats running...it´s all very beautiful.

Also it´s still hot, but sometimes, when the wind blows and I´m at the school, it´s nice.

Waiting to make friends and learn Spanish. In the mean time, I´ll bury myself in work.

Hope you all are enjoying your lives. Happy Thanksgiving, in case I cannot update until after then, and Happy Birthday Michelle! (Also Frank and Jessi, in case I can´t get on for yours, too).

Alicia

Yes. Alas, we had water for about 5 days. And then it broke. It was nice while it lasted.

A quick update, as I am using the monja´s computer...

School is coming along. I am consistently defining and re defining my role at the school and in the community. Hopefully in a few weeks I should have some semblance of a schedule. So far, I have gotten to tutor quite a few children, and one of them is learning to read, which is very exciting. Also I set up a token economy (ticket) system for a first grade classroom, and the teacher is super excited about that, and, well, I´m a sucker for making people super excited. I have high hopes for the discipline in that particular classroom.

Afuera de la escuela...(outside of school) things are progressing normally, I guess. I am spending time trying to get to know my host family. The parasites are in the process of dying. And I found out that while there are not rats living in my mattress, this time there are snakes living in my room. (That´s not fair...they just come to visit). Red ones. But apparently they are not venemous (if it´s red, you´re not dead, or something like that). Awesome, haha. hem.

Also, a fellow volunteer is finishing her time of service here, and left me with a ton ton ton of art supplies, which is wonderful, and a stove, which is also wonderful. I will hopefully maybe use it when I live alone (if I can resist the siren call of cereal three times a day).

Hope you all are healthy and well and full of energy.

Paz!

alicia

Happy November! It seems like every week here has been eventful, and this last one was no exception. I returned from my work placement visit in Monte Plata to Santo Domingo, which felt like paradise. What a difference from week one to now! The week was filled with competencies, tests, results, and catching up with other volunteers. On Wednesday, we had our official swearing-in ceremony. Our Santo Domingo host families came, along with the Ambassador and Peace Corps DR officials. It was a fine ceremony, and I almost got a little emotional- it has been a very, very long road to this point, as many of you know. So I made it to the beginning- only 2 years to go. I think I've come pretty far by this point, geographically speaking of course, but in other, non-literal ways as well. My proudest moment was probably my last morning in my Santo Domingo house, when I succeeded in flushing the toilet without making a huge mess or splashing myself in the process. Yesss!

One of the best parts of the week was the package waiting for me at the Peace Corps office. I was a little bummed about the lack of Halloween in my life (American holidays seem sweeter when I'm not in America) when, lo and behold, there were three envelopes with my name on the outside and candy goodness on the inside. Talk about a bunch of happy volunteers (and one ecstatic volunteer). Thanks Theresa, Michelle, Mommy, Papi, Thomas, and Crystal!

On Thursday we checked out the American Embassy- PC volunteers are allowed in, and can take advantage of the pristine lawns, moderately priced American food, beautiful pool, hot showers, and, best of all, toilets with so much water pressure that you can actually throw the toilet paper in the toilet when flushing. These are probably the only toilets in the country with that capability- and there are multiple signs in multiple languages informing visitors of the toilet paper flushing policy.

The volunteers took advantage of our night off by spending it together. We had some wonderful pizza and bonding. Friday we hit up the Embassy again (because why let a good thing go unused?) and then left for our sites. When I got to Don Juan, my dona was very happy to see me; while I had been gone, she decorated the Christmas tree, which is now replete with ornaments and lights. We chatted awhile while she made me some delicious oatmeal, and then we watched some of her soaps together because the electricity was on. Tomorrow I will be going to a sweets-making class; it is a program sponsored by the Primera Dama of the country, and I figure it is a good way to meet neighborhood members while getting to try a tasty treat!

Next week I will begin observing the school full time; hopefully I will learn enough to be able to really help out soon. I am impatient for my Spanish to improve, and nervous that I will let the community down, but am excited to now be official and to begin my time of service. I will miss the constant presence and support of the other volunteers, but support comes in many ways, as you all have shown me.

A quick apology to those who I owe long emails- I have been slacking in the individual correspondence area, and I'm sorry, but even if I don't actually respond, I appreciate your thoughts and have more than likely responded with my mind.

You all are wonderful; hope you are healthy ane well and enjoying the Fall (unless you're in Tampa and have the same seasons I do...)

-alicia

6/11

That last post has been saved on my jump drive for awhile, so I will add on to it. I have been at my site for a week now, observing and beginning to tutor students/talk to their parents/ plan classes and meetings. Usually PCVs don't get to do so much when they're starting out (and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be doing all this) but I am enjoying the fact that I am not bored at work.

Things I am not enjoying: The parasite which is residing in my intestines. The stress and noise of the school. The electricity that is terrible. My spanish. The fact that I fell in a pile of poo in front of about 50 students and 3 professors yesterday. Not knowing many people.

Things I am enjoying: Victorino, the Spanish Soap Opera. The new flushing toilet (!) (we just got water in the house). The candy from my family (still). The new school store I started (well, for only 4 kids, and thanks to the candy from home) and the fact that behavior modification works (if only for a week). Emails and comments from you all.

Keep it real, keep it healthy, miss you all!

-alicia

Hello everyone!

We finished the cancha! The community was very happy, and the jovenes were ecstatic. About 300 people came out to the ribbon cutting ceremony (about 10 percent of the population of the barrio), including politicians and leaders who had nothing to do with the cancha but wanted to be associated with it. Everyone had a good time at the opening, and we had a little tournament to break it in. One could say that the cancha has now been baptised with the tears and sweat of the youth who never thought their community would have a place to play. And it looks nice, too (the Dominicans took charge of the painting, we just printed out dimensions and marked out where to paint what color).

The day after the opening, we had our despedida (farewell) party. The families and youth groups came out, and there was more crying and dancing. My nails were painted (for free) again. The woman who likes to do that took one look at the toenails I had painted myself, and told me to never, ever do that again. haha. heh.

As a goodbye present, my dona gave me a box of cereal and a box of milk (because that is how it comes here, from the utter, in powder, or in a box. I prefer the box). So the next morning, my Dominican dona very nicely prepared breakfast for me. She boiled the milk, and ants had somehow found my cereal, so I had warm, protein infused cereal. Only in the DR, haha.

Currently I am in Don Juan, visiting my site for 5 days. The new host family is nice enough, my dona and her 17 year old grandson. The school I am going to be working at is in desparate need of some Sister Debbie, and that is all I have time to say about that. Right now they want me to work as the psychologist and also with the overall discipline of the school. The youths who also solicited me to work with their youth groups currently do not really want to work with me, but that is okay, because I think my hands will be full with the school.

So now I am trying to make conversation with my new family, understand the structure of a particular school within the context of the Dominican education system, and progress with my Spanish. No rats in the new house, there is always food and water for me, hardly ever any electricity. Overall ok.

Miss you all! List of things needed for school: art supplies in all forms, frisbee, athletic equipment. For me: headlamp or flashlight, candy. Positive thoughts. In case you would like to send something, and I hope you would, this is my address

Alicia Manteiga, PCV Cuerpo de PazAvenida Bolivar, 451, GazcueApartado 1412Santo DomingoDominican Republic

love love love,

alicia

What is it about me? Is it my American blood, or the scent I have because I bucket wash my hair every day? (in vez de just washing it once a week). Does my sweat have a particular pheromone given my penchant for ice cream? Or perhaps I was abducted by aliens as a youth (thanks, Mommy and Papi) and implanted with a particular honing device. How do they track me down, patiently and ruthlessly? What am I talking about? Why the thoughtful reverie at 6:10 in the morning? Do I usually feel this pensive during the sunrise? Perhaps I’m sitting on my balcony pondering why I get so many piropos (catcalls) from Dominicans (nope, those are normal). Perhaps I’m sipping a latte, wondering why so many Publishers Clearing House representatives have tried to give me a check (nope, wrong again). So, what is chasing me, you’re asking eagerly. Patience, young grasshopper. I’ve got to milk this. Good guesses, all of them, but I’m actually sitting on my bed, under my mosquitero, latte-less because the coffee here is strong and cream is for the weak. The electricity is out, normal for this hour, the kiddies are borrowing the flashlight tonight, and there is no window to be had in my habitation; I am typing this thanks to the impressively long-lasting battery on the computer generously donated by the CBS (no sarcasm there, for this I am extremely grateful and this will be a huge help with my work). Let me ask you this question, dear reader. If there is no window in my room, how the heck is there ANOTHER raton running around my bedroom? And why did it have to be so noisy as to wake me up? What have I done to it? Sure, I have the death of several (many) of its relatives on my hands. In the words of Yoda: A little raton serial killer, I am. But still. There are volunteers who, so far, have yet to see or hear a raton. How, dear reader, is this fair? Peace Corps, and development workers in general, are all about equality. I’d like to share my mammalian friends with others (I’m just that type of person), but I can’t. We’re all blessed in this life, and apparently rodents are my particular blessing. I do love waking to find their little divots resting ever so gently above my head on my mosquito net- at least my furry friends are regular. They must be getting enough veggies. Cutting back on the plantain and yucca. Here is a little haiku for them: Be it my mattress, My ceiling, kitchen, or room, Die, Spawns of Satan. Guess my love of Peace only goes so far. Will have to go hunting for this little sucker later today (when there’s luz). Soft and swift as a shadow I will be, in the words of the great Tolkein. Silent but deadly, in the words of flatulence fanatics everywhere. Thank you for reading this reflection. In just an hour I will be walking to El Chorro to begin handing out invitations to the inauguration of their brand new cancha, very exciting. Hope you all are healthy and rabies free. -Alicia “ the exterminator” Manteiga

Hola a todos. In Constanza, me and 3 other volunteers are working with a group of youths from a barrio called El Chorro. This neighborhood is pretty poor- think lots of wooden houses and not enough latrines to go around- but the people are really friendly and the youth are fantastic. Together, we decided that the neighborhood could really benefit from a cancha (basketball court), because there is currently nothing as far as recreation goes (aside from drugs and such). They have a partially completed cancha, and they’d been asking the mayor for money to finish it for 4 years. (That’s 4 years, in case you missed that). This is how our quest from a cancha has gone: Last week, we went to the mayor’s office wearing our Sunday best and our official PC badges, solicitation letter in hand and youths from El Chorro at our sides to request money for our project. It seemed legitimate to go to the mayor’s office to ask for money because 1) apparently, that’s what everyone does (I met a woman in line who was going to ask for paint for her house) and 2) the mayor had evidently forgotten that this community existed, and it falls under his jurisdiction, and I could say a lot more about that but I won’t but responsibility is responsibility. Am I right? Claro. So my PC friend Cameron and one of the youths got in to talk to the mayor, who made it sound promising “you only need 15 fundos (bags) of concrete? I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know. That’s not very much, you know?” Well we waited (and waited) and low and behold- no phone call. So we stalked his office and, well, no concrete. So we went to plan B. Plan B: Hand out letters with our quest and pictures of the partially completed cancha to business owners/politicians/people who seem to have money. This plan may sound far- fetched, but since when has that stopped me? (okay, lots of times, perhaps). As I describe this, keep in mind it’s all happening in Spanish, so if some details seem hazy, that’s because I didn’t quite catch what all was going on. First we went to some politician’s office and spoke with his accountant who told us that they’d already given 3 fundos to another youth group member (oops! Thank you anyways!). Went to another store, and the manager was not there, so we left a message with the secretaries. We were feeling pretty shot down by this point, so we gave up. Just kidding. Then we decided to try some politicians. They’re about to have some election for something (there are tons and tons of politicians in this country and that’s all I’m allowed to say about Dominican politics. Though I could say much more). We saw a political advertisement on the back of a pickup truck and started writing the guy’s name down so that we could send him a letter. As we were writing it down he walked past us- apparently it was his truck. We gave him a letter and our talk, and he whipped out 500 pesos (roughly enough for 2 fundos). Well alright! Then we went to another politician’s house (our youths knew where he lived) and this guy was like “okay, I can drop off 6 fundos and some paint.” Are you kidding me? Suhwheet! Then we went to a water bottling/purification plant (big deals here because you CANNOT drink unbottled water unless you boil it/add bleach). I was like, no way are they going to help us. But sure enough, Agua Tome gave us 2 fundos of concrete, all the sand we needed, and some more paint. So if you come to the DR and need bottled water, drink Agua Tome. Accent over the “e”. Then we found out that someone else donated 1000 pesos. Then we walked into a ferreteria (like a tool shop that also sells cement) and ran into the ex-mayor who is going to run for mayor. And he bought us 4 fundos on the spot. Then we went to another ferreteria, and they gave us 2 gallons of paint. And then we tracked down the 3 that had been originally donated, plus the 12 we had acquired = 15 fundos, 3 gallons of paint, sand, and 1500 pesos for other expenses. AWESOME! So tomorrow we are going to pour the cement and finish up that cancha. The last time I was this excited was when the students at SAB got to go see the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. What a great way to start out my Peace Corps experience- a cancha for a community that really needs and wants it. Another great thing is that the youths did all the work- we just provided the motivation, support, and our presence (which evidently helped legitimize the project in the eyes of the donors). Hopefully we’re going to have an opening party on Thursday. Until then, my days will be filled with construction, training, Spanish classes, and trying to learn to cook/clean Dominican style with my still wonderful host family. Will probably post before then, because internet access is easier here than it will probably be for the next 2 years. Miss you all, hope all is well, and 20 alicia points to anyone who writes me an email this week! -Alicia

That is the refrain to every meal, the chorus between every bowl of food. Is that all you’re going to eat? Well, let me check my stomach- no vacancy- alright, yes, this is all I can eat, muchas gracias, it was delicious, I was full from yesterday before I started eating. Today my dona made me a special treat. I had a little cold, so I skipped class for the first time this morning. She consulted with a friend who suggested a special shake for my sore throat. Sounds good, right? When she was describing it, I heard her mention “guayaba.” Yumm, I like those. So I took a hefty gulp, and was forced to ask “guayaba and what, exactly?” Ahi. Amarillo. Yellow pepper. Of course. Silly me. I like combining different foods- frosties and fries, barbeque sauce and baked potatoes, chips in sandwiches, that sort of thing. I do not think I’m going to add guayaba and ahi to my list of favorite combinations. And my throat feels better, thank you very much. This weekend we had several parties. The first was a fundraiser for a youth group that some volunteers are working with. For the bargain price of 10 pesos, I was admitted into one of the most divertida parties I’ve attended; picture 80 people dancing in not much more than a wooden shack, with music blaring and smiles all around. Really goes to show that a little goes a long way, especially when you’re surrounded by happy people! After that party, our host families threw us a party (different location); more music, more dancing. And then last night- you guessed it. Another dance-a-thon, in celebration of our technical trainer’s birthday. Now, you may be thinking, “Gosh, Alicia sure has danced a lot by this point. I bet she’s pretty good.” Well I’m not, but I always have a good time, and other people seem to enjoy laughing at my attempts, so good cheer all around. Have I mentioned how great my current host family is? 5 children- ages 13,12,10,10, and 8 (the 10-year-olds are not twins); all boys but the 8-year-old, a mom and her husband. The mother goes to the university on the weekends- studying to be a lawyer- and the dad works during the week. Every Sunday, the father drives the mother 3 hours to the university, waits for 4 hours while she’s in class, and then they drive back. Every Sunday, her sons clean the house and cook lunch (the biggest meal here). Her sons do this. It’s difficult to delicately explain why this is such a monumental accomplishment, so suffice it to say that the Dominican culture is very macho-centered, and that this family is one in a million (or one in 9 million). To Thomas and Papi- I appreciate now how great you two were to live with (same goes to Jonathan, Alex, and Zach). Thanks for your comments! Miss you all! -Alicia

Training so far has been packed with new faces and experiences. However, for everything that seems extremely foreign and different, I come across something else that reminds me of home. The first two weeks in Santo Domingo, we received crash courses in culture, transportation, and language. I visited a volunteer who lives in the northern part of the country, and got to experience live in the campo campo (extremely rural; think latrines and gossip). In those first two weeks, I learned to play dominoes and dance bachata, discovered Dominican cuisine, learned to correctly get on a motorcycle and get off of public transportation, and developed a strong bond with my English-Spanish dictionary. Currently, the other 14 youth volunteers and I are living in Constanza. Constanza, unlike most of the other parts of the DR, enjoys a relatively mild climate, and gets pretty cold at nights/in the mornings. It is a very agricultural area, and good veggies- cauliflower, broccoli, carrots- are easy to come by. Also, juicy delicious mangos cost about 5 pesos each (36 pesos = 1 US Dollar). Yummm. In Constanza, our days have been filled with technical training (how to form a youth group, issues youth here face), language training (what to say once you’ve said your greetings and found out the location of the bathroom) and time with our families/youth groups in the areas. The youth here are generally very excited and motivated, and the people here are generally very hospitable and patient. I had some issues with my first two host families; my first two weeks in Constanza have provided me with stories enough to write a memoir. Will provide stories for food, haha. I am currently very happy with my new family, am still terrified of rats, but can handle mice, roaches, and hunger. Still not immune to mosquito bites, even though they promised the mosquitoes would stop biting after a few weeks here. I’m not buying that. Yesterday we presented classes in Spanish to an audience of our families and youth group members. Today we had a talent show to thank the families for their support. The talents ranged in genre and presence of talent, but everyone had a great time, and the refresco was flowing. Most importantly, I found out where I am going to be living for the next two years. I will be in a suburban city called Don Juan, located about 1.5 hours north of the capital. My project partner will be a school that caters to poor children (sound familiar?) All I know right now is that I will be working with Argentinian nuns, an American priest, and that I will not be close to any other PCV. More info to arrive on October 19. Until the next update, thank you for your comments and support. There is nothing that makes my heart happier than a bunch of emails in my inbox (well, that and cooperation, happiness, and 4 way stops). Hope you all are healthy, well, and full of energy! -Alicia

Let me begin by saying thank you. As I pack (and re-pack) for my time in the Dominican Republic with the Peace Corps, it is easy to be grateful. Thank you to my family, my friends, and the Baltimorean secours – I am blessed because of your generosity and kindness.