Malaya is 5 1/2 months old now! That sparkle in her eyes is my ultimate joy. Her first tooth is beginning to peek out and she is quite the lil' soldier.. something I'll give her daddy credit for =)

These are from a recent fun photo shoot with one of my friends & her stylish hats she hand makes at Mudpies & Pigtails Boutique.

Before I can begin to talk about my Peace Corps experience in general terms, I must start at the very root of it. I must talk about the place I spent nearly 2 years of my life in, my second home, Dominica.

I think I can speak for most Peace Corps Volunteers I know when I say that we have a kind of love/hate relationship with this beautiful lil' isle. It's hard to not simply fall in love with it. The lush green rainforests, fruit trees abound with ripe sweets just waiting to be picked, the warmth and happiness that spills out of the people that live here, the lively rhythm & beat of the pace of life and interactions all around, the simplicity. It is hard not to feel like, yes, you are truly living in a tropical paradise! All you have to do is step outside your home & look around to feel this.

Because you are, indeed, living on an island there is an overwhelming sense of community, even when you step outside your village. When I travel to the capital, Roseau, on a Friday afternoon it is nearly impossible to not run into someone I know.. to not hear my name shouted on the street, or a juice bought at a local snackette on my behalf. You begin to see how truly small of a place it is.. as you meet the cousin of your neighbor in the next village over or the guy in the grocery store who is friends with your fellow Peace Corps Volunteer in another village. The song "it's a small world after all" starts to really make sense. It's a great experience, if even sometimes slightly stifling if you are used to the anonymity of city life.

You start to feel as though everyone is one big extended family (and you may not be far from the truth). Greetings abound here.. and socializing is a huge part of community life. As I walk to the nearby shopette to get a pound of flour it is inevitable that along my way I will call greetings to various neighbors as I pass by their houses, stop and share a brief greeting with someone I pass on the road, or share a friendly conversation with someone I meet in the shop. There is simply time here for common courtesies and friendly greetings... even when there isn't much time, because time is pretty negotiable and rarely do you find people rushing to their destination. It's the beauty of island life...

and ironically, sometimes the frustation =) At least to us fast paced Americans who are not accustomed to such ways of life. Over time, not only did I adapt to this, but found myself enjoying the warmth of these social exchanges and the flexible nature of life.

Being an agricultural island, particularly in the East where I lived, food is fresh and plentiful here. While imported foods are also becoming a norm on island, nothing can replace the wholesome and delicious varieties of produce all around. It was only in living around farmers that I learned that cinnamon is the bark of a tree, or that you can eat a delicious meal with boiled green bananas, or that you must pick lettuce before it grows too large and bitter, or that you can roast a plantain. I learned to scale, cut, and cook fish (including the head). Nothing tastes better than a meal that is prepared with ingredients that you just picked off the vine. Vanilla pods smell more delicious than any scent you can buy bottled at a store. And I loved passing by my neighbors and smelling the cocoa or coffee as it roasted in their kitchens. Dominicans are close to their food.. they grow it and prepare it with pride. Just thinking of roasted breadfruit and codfish makes my belly ache =)

Nature surrounds you. Whether it is the sea, a river, trees, or a beautiful flower, there is always something to remind you of how close you are to nature. Dominica is the "Nature Isle of the Caribbean" for a reason. You can hike the trails, swim the rivers, listen to the waterfalls, and look for the birds. If you don't like "the great outdoors" this is definitely not the place for you.. and if you do, this is an experience like no other.

Then there is the flipside, the underbelly of Dominica (as there is in any place).

Rum shops. Everywhere. Which means, well... you can figure it out. Alcohol is weaved into the fabric of social life.. particularly with males. And it is not considered a big deal to drink and drive, regardless of how many fatalities have probably been a result of it. It is a culturally acceptable means of entertainment and it starts pretty early in life.

Which brings us to driving.. which can be scary as you whip along curvy, narrow, mountainous roads at very fast speeds with potholes everywhere. Dominica does not have the best roads around.. and there have honestly been a few occasions where I have simply had to close my eyes and hold my breath as the bus driver coasts along.

I would estimate 90% of Dominicans are African descent. This means, if you are Caucasian, be prepared to be the minority. Because it is a small island with not as much cultural diversity as you might see elsewhere, be prepared to deal with the ignorance that sometimes accompanies this. Assumptions and over generalizations about other cultures are simply the result of a lack of exposure.

Island life is a unique experience that is shaped by the land and by the people. Dominica, while just a tiny dot on the map, is alive with amazing cultural experiences.

What do you want to know about Dominica? What can you share with us about your experience in Dominica? I'd love to hear back from you...

Jasmine

My Peace Corps experience ended on April 1st, 2009, 5 months short of its original "COS" (close of service) date. From the lack of blog entries since January, it goes without saying that my life has been extremely full, and writing about all that has come to pass was just not possible at the time... more something to be done in retrospect.

So here I am, sharing with you, in retrospect...

I think I will break it up into several blog entries to share different components of my experience and what I have gained from it.. as an individual, as a community development worker, as a global citizen.

To begin with...

My daughter, Malaya Jade Landry-Lockhart was born on September 24th, 2009 @ 11:30 a.m. She weighed 7 lbs 6 oz. and is simply amazing. While her conception prevented me from completing my Peace Corps Service (as becoming pregnant effectively ends one's service), I would not change a thing about her arrival into this world. An unexpected surprise by every means, but a true Joy and Blessing. A baby is probably the LAST thing I would have ever thought to get out of my time in Dominica... but the road I find myself on is, indeed, the road I chose to walk on. As I believe it is our response to the twist & turns in life that determines their meaning and their outcome, this is mine. While the destination in one's journey is important, I have also learned oh so very well to enjoy myself along the way.

I thought it only fair & necessary to share these unfoldments with those that have watched the progression of my experience as a Peace Corps Volunteer in this 'litle' island of Dominica.. and to reveal, in part, a larger part of myself, apart of, but also seperate from me as "Peace Corps Volunteer"... haha... lots of words there. In a lot of ways it probably would have been simpler.. easier... less "complicated" to simply delete my blog.. but what is the sense in that? I figure life is for sharing and learning form one another's experiences.. so.

Anyway, here she is. My biggest blessing..

I can't even imagine life without her now. Every day I revel in her beauty.. the way she puckers her lips when she's sleeping, the way her eyes get so big and bright when she stands on her her wabbly lil feet (with momma's help, of course), and the cooing and grunting noises she plays around with, a type of song to my ears. It's amazing the way life takes hold and shapes us. Every day I wake up grateful and ready to be my best. This is motherhood.

More to come on my insights and experiences as a PCV, post service, soon.

Her name is Jean, but for the longest time I called her Jill (and somehow still feel the name suits her better). I admire her. She has 4 children that just shine and sparkle under the love and care of their mother. Kaylee is maybe 4, and shy...but not too shy. She laughs a lot and holds on to her mommy. She played with marbles all afternoon yesterday and kept dropping them...picking them up...dropping them again. Tricky things to keep hold of. Kendell is in the second grade and he has the energy and spunk of most young little boys here. He likes to take off his shoes to play and run around, climbing up the side of the basketball post like its a coconut tree. Nothing, not even the threats of his mother's strong tone over the cell phone could convince him to get down, grinning slyly. Kate is little Momma. In the fourth grade, put petite and proper. She loves books and asks me everyday to go into the school library and get a new book. Kendell has picked up on this nice habit from her sister as well. She reads the harder books to him and so I let him check them out too. Jeanel is in secondary school and shows the signs of leadership, responsibility, and maturity that will take a little longer for the other girls around her to develop. Meanwhile, Jean is a fiercely strong woman. I see it in her eyes. She has a caring, a deep commit to those she loves, and she's willing to do whatever she can to bring up a healthy family. Tuesdays she voluteers to cook for the school lunch program and she always has great suggestions and insights to better the project. She is willing to go above and beyond when needed, just ask. During break time at school she brings down treats to sell, sometimes still warm from the oven. Her bravery is in her daily actions and in her manner. It is in the way she cares for her children and the way she talks with those in the village. She is brave and she is worthy of so much that I pray will come her way.

Realizing how quickly Caribbean life is moving along and with September approaching quickly, I decided this week would be one of enjoyment for me. While still tending to my project responsibilities...I took the pressure off. Instead of making the call, I would wait for it. Instead of arranging the chairs in preparation for the meeting, I talked with other members. Instead of taping up the posters, I delegated the task to a trusted student. Instead of taking the lead role, I'm sitting back and watching. It's been nice too, to see that things still carry on well without me. That YES, some of these projects truly are sustainable (meaning they have involvement and ownership by the community that goes beyond simply trying to please the Peace Corps Volunteer), a fear many of us carry as we move through our service.

Tuesday I attended a yoga retreat at a quaintly tucked eco-lodge, Crescent Moon located over an hour from my village. With transportation always being a difficulty on island, I was lucky to have my boyfriend make a slight detour in his morning route to work to drop me off. I had some extra time before the classes started to browse through the fun collection of books in the lounge area, amazed at the wide array of choices...I have gotten a little tired of looking at the same collection of books in our Peace Corps office, a random collection of books brought by us and previous groups of volunteers.

Yoga has been an interest of mine since college and yet I lack the discipline that it requires to take it to the next level of practice. I know most of the poses and can practice some of them with confidence, yet without a regular practice all of this means little. So my New Years resolution was to jump start my yoga practice for 2009! Being the end of January and still not having a single morning of practice, I decided this retreat would get me in the right mindset. It was amazing to feel the differences in my body since arriving here. My leg muscles, now strong and dense, were painful to stretch, and poses so easy before were challenging. It was also great to mingle with the other young women at the retreat over a coffee and fresh breakfast after the session. Warm hearty toast, fresh fruits, and espresso coffee (!) with real cream. A simple morning like this means a lot to me here and it refreshed my perspective. Suddenly, the leaves are crisp in my sight and the breeze refreshing on my skin.

Later that day, my girls group and I walked to a nearby village to attend a session on drugs done by the Drug Unit, only to see the electricity go out. Challenges like these frustrated me before, but are just simply part of the process for me now. It was fun walking back down the road, in complete darkness, an adventure for these young girls whose parents don't usually let them venture beyond home very much. Some village boys joined us on our walk down and showed surprising courtesy as they helped carry my load of bags and making sure each girl got to their home on different diverging mountain roads safely. Somehow, for me, the feeling of the night brought memories of my own childhood, playing hide-and-seek with my brothers and neighborhood kids, excited that our parents were letting us be out at such hours, running around among the stars and moon.

Saturday is opening of Carnival! A fun, playful, creative, and passionate time on island. February should be a good time. I'm ready.

After diving at Scotts Head

Keyvanel's latest creation

photo club!

Mrs. Muta, a student, and I

Barack Obama is president. I watched the inauguration alongside my host family yesterday. The day brought with it an extra hint of specialness as we celebrated my host dad's birthday too. We watched this long and drawn out "live" event on CNN as though something magical would appear, beers in hand, a big pot of food boiling, neighbors coming in and out. True, it's "history in the making"...but I felt as though we were waiting for something big, something huge, and instead we got a 4 hour glimpse into the formal wishwash of DC politics as this former president waved and smiled and that Senator spoke. Anyway, that's okay. Its the actual event, the beginning of America's first black president that is the exciting thing. And it was amazing to see the joy and excitement of all the people there, witnessing the change happening before their eyes (even if for me, here, it was anticlimatic). I loved Aretha's little rendition.

Keyvanel and Stanilus were waiting for me outside my door as usual and when I asked them if they knew why today was so important, they both shrugged. When I explained that it was a very important day in history because we have our first black American president Barack Obama, they nodded and said "oh yeah, oh yeah...Obama". Well, they recognized the name at least. We played clips of the inauguration from my computer and they both looked at me and said "but he's not black." I told them that his father was a black man from Kenya and his mother a white American. "oooh, well he's kind of black, I guess" was their response. We were looking at a picture of Obama and Bush hugging and when I told them that this was the former president Bush, Keyvanel laughed and said "what, does he live in the bush?" They always have a silly way of turning things upside down like that; it's fun.

Anyway, Dominicans are thrilled about this knew change in America. You see Obama t-shirts and hats and pins and a general excited talk around the matter. But it doesn't seem they feel it will make a difference in their own lives...

For me, I'm hopeful. The politic discourse is opening up and shifting. Outdated modes of thinking are being challenged. A realization that we cannot continue down the same path is emerging. What will come of all this hope, of all this talk, of all this enthusiasm is not yet known, but I believe change is there. And as a note on my fridge says... "any paradigm shift in thought or action is a revolution"...so let the revolution begin.

Laplee tombey. Rain falls with no warning, drifting with the angles of the sea torn wind. I open my umbrella, knowing in less than 2 minutes the clouds will have disappeared, the sun emerged, and there will be no signs of rainfall at all. Rain comes and it goes with such a force in this January month, a sure shower in the morning and a few reminders in the afternoon. I smile with the rain, knowing my tomatoes are growing and my porch washing clean. But with too much rain, I find myself in the house and waiting, urging to get out, wishing for the cheerfulness and business that sunlight brings to village life. The weather alone shaping and shifting life and experiences.

4 year old Monique says she wants to become white like me as she brushes the golden smooth hair of her white baby doll. I touch her plated hair & tell her how beautiful she is, just the way she is. Her smile is so full its contagious. She's bright and her hands are in everything, so eager to learn. She tells us she wants to be a princess when she grows up. Her uncle, my boyfriend, explains to her that this is "old time stuff." And now she can be anything she wants, a doctor, a builder, the Prime Minister. Her eyes wander with the thought of it, but she is easily distracted and runs outside to catch one of the new chicks that hatched last week. 3 are stuck in the gutter and we can't seem to catch the quick little things. She's anbete, troublesome, a generalized term used to describe any small child' curiousness and antics.

Next month brings the vibrancy of carnival and the lappo kabwit band practices on the roadside on weekend nights, a whole set of men and (some) women dancing, singing, beating the drum, and basically...making noise. A few men march with flowers in their hands, raising them like flags, while others with their glass of rum. Calypso lyrics pour out of bus speakers, talking about politics and island issues, with many shout outs to Barack Obama.

Bellies fill up with the warm dishes made by volunteer mothers for our school feeding program and lil' Kate asks me every day if she can return her library book and get a new one. A duanting half finished mural glares at me from our school library and the frustrations of having no electricity for the entire school year eats at our plans of a computer lab. The Atkinson School has become a little home away from home for me. The warm smiles of the children and teachers make things easier on a hard day. I feel welcome there...I feel "apart" in a way I sometimes don't in other situations here.

I still love walking down the road to my home, turning down friendly offers for a ride. A nice old gentleman still talks Patwa to me every afternoon and I grin in annoyance at myself for still not speaking the language with a sliver of confidence. My new years resolution has something to do with this and I WILL take it on.

I can't seem to find enough time for all I want to do here. A wide array of projects and social scenes pull me in different directions, not to mention the temptation to close my door for the afternoon to rest and relax with a good book. I'm not very good at the whole time management thing, but I'm getting there. Time is ticking as September seems just around the corner. It seems like a whole lifetime since I left NM & yet I can't believe a year and a half has passed me by.

The misters of perpetual mischeif

cleaning a calabash

These kids make me more than happy

Thanks Josh

The market on Saturday

Tanzania: Going Native

My Life With The United States Peace Corps

By: Cynthia Wambsgans

Cleveland Scene

Cleveland, Ohio

January 8, 2009

"You lived in Africa?! That's so cool! How was it?"

You know, I have yet to come up with a proper answer to that question. The response "Africa was, um, good" feels a bit trite. I could think of many one-word adjectives to describe my experience living and working in Tanzania. Frustrating. Beautiful. Dirty. Mango-tastic. Enriching. Lonely.

Powerful. But I'm learning that very few people actually want to know the nitty-gritty of my life overseas. My friends like hearing standard-issue stories about helping poor kids or adventure stories about fighting off household pythons. Beyond that, eyes glaze over. I've gotten the line, "Dude, there's no way I could've done that" more times than I've enjoyed a hot shower since I've returned. I've learned to respond with a boxed phrase about how incredible I found the experience and how lucky I felt to get paid to live somewhere so cool.

I joined the United States Peace Corps in 2006 because I wanted to see the world, I wanted to give back and, maybe more than anything, I didn't want the predictability that I thought would come with a standard 9-to-5 job. As a kid I'd wanted to tromp through the African plains with National Geographic as a photojournalist, and I supposed that joining the Peace Corps would be a convincing placebo.

Since I didn't have much direction after graduation, I felt relatively comfortable allowing my government to send me wherever it chose. After a year-long application process involving more medical procedures than I knew existed, I received a letter informing me I'd be sent to Tanzania. So I bought a hand-crank shortwave radio and an oversized bottle of mosquito repellant, packed my life into two overstuffed suitcases and set off into the unknown.

When I arrived, along with 40 other wide-eyed American volunteers, I spent the first three months living with a Tanzanian host family, practicing Swahili and learning cultural norms. I mastered the arts of bathing in a bucket, peeing in dubious places and washing my laundry by hand. I also learned I hated fried millipedes and couldn't trust when my host sister claimed she was eating peanuts. I grew comfortable with my host family, and we laughed and squabbled and dined and relaxed just like my real family and I did.

After three months, my trainers deemed me ready and they shipped me off to the place I'd call home for the next two years. We loaded my suitcases and training manuals into a Land Rover and drove 10 hours over paved and dirt roads into the scraggly foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro. They showed me my new home - a glorified mud hut with cemented-over walls located an hour and a half from the closest volunteer. They dropped me off in my little village, introduced me to my supervising headmaster and drove away.

In time, I grew to embrace and ultimately cherish this independence, but initially I felt incredibly intimidated. Taking a deep breath, I dove into my new community, meeting my neighbors and finding the closest market, post office and bus stand. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Children chased me down the road in flocks, screaming, "Hey white person! Give us money!" I struggled to find the boundary between integrating and maintaining personal space. When school began a month later, I found myself with a ready-made social network and a daily schedule, both of which kept me sane during the transition. I threw myself into teaching and formed strong relationships with my staff and students.

I had taught previously at the University of Iowa, but my former experience didn't really prepare me for teaching in Tanzania. My students often sat two to a chair, brought in the school's water supply in endless buckets and felt the abuse of the country's corporal punishment system. But as an educator, I felt no greater reward than teaching students who understood that an education would truly change their lives. Of course, kids will be kids, and not every child was a model student, but most realized that a high school diploma would enable them to rise above their lot in life and pull their families toward a more stable existence. Beyond teaching math and chemistry, I taught HIV/AIDS awareness and encouraged girls' empowerment. I enjoyed the after school activities most of all. The school health club and I wrote and choreographed a sweet rap song for an AIDS awareness competition and, for the first time in my life, people thought I had enviable dance moves.

Now don't get me wrong - even in my happiest moments, I still felt incredible amounts of frustration and loneliness. I learned that a few of my female students were prostituting themselves to pay their school fees. I lost a friend to HIV. I was robbed. I almost quit one day about a year into my contract when I realized that I'd been working myself tirelessly for the last 12 months, but still had 12 to go. But, thanks to international calling cards and an ever-encouraging mother, I stayed.

I finished my contract and returned home in September, but I sincerely miss my life overseas, spending time hanging out with my neighbors or enjoying the country's delightfully slow pace. I miss feeling independent, unimpinged upon by social expectations. I haven't yet merged my time overseas with my life here; I feel like maybe I dreamed up this crazy adventure I had. But I think the more I talk about it, the more I begin to synthesize my life's experiences. So if you're still reading, I'm appreciative.

How was Africa? Well, thanks for asking. Where do you want me to begin?

I type from the bright lights of a hotel room in St. Lucia. Last night I took a warm shower and slept with air conditioning and had cheesecake for dessert. I feel disorientated, a little dreamy. A tv sits in my bedroom and I have yet to turn it on after 3 nights here. I'm here attending an HIV Workshop entitled "Men as Partners" with 4 other Dominicans and other service providers from all over the Eastern Caribbean. The workshop is being facilitated by a group called ASHE from Jamaica which offers new and innovative ways to educate on HIV related issues. The workshop is a mixture of drama making, singing, debate, heated discussion, and education on gender topics as they relate to the Caribbean and World. Out of our time here, we then hope to design a program initiative that will involve men in the HIV education process.

As you can see from the staleness of my blog entries as of late, I haven't had internet since October. Long story short, a lightening storm blew out the electricity in a part of my village and it affected the phone service. 4 visits from the phone company later and I still do not have internet. A year ago this would have been extremely frustrating, (and it still is) yet now I let it roll off my shoulders (mostly because I don't have much control over it, so why let it bother me?)

It's strange being here in St. Lucia...the spot I was first introduced and welcomed into the Caribbean, now a year and 4 months later. I see it with such different eyes now....the food stores I first saw as so little now seem like gigantic and fancy stores with such a wide variety of choices. The 4 lane roads, traffic, streetlights, clothes stores, shoe stores, and commercialism all around me. The eager eyes and idealistic mind that came before is now faced with the humbled and realistic steps of the Dominican me. Lots of internal processing going on, especially as I await my trip home to the States on Dec. 16th. I don't have all the words to speak this experience right now but I can say this: a change has taken root inside of me and synthesizing the "old me" with the "present me" are the next steps on my personal journey. I'd describe this synthesized me an "optimistic realist". When my steps reach NM for the Christmas Season, I will be able to get the outside reflection necessary to move forward in this. Excited, nervous, unsure, ready.

I had a great conversation with this guy tonight...born in Nigeria, raised in Grenada ...our mixed up cocktail of cultural experiences offering a sense of home for 2 wanderers. Great advice given and mutual understanding gained.

Maybe tomorrow I can post some pictures, a visual update. Meanwhile, those soft sheets and cushy pillows await my dreadhead. Nite =)

I can promise you now, with an understanding, I did not come to change a thing. I did not come to "help." No. I, this one little "I", does not have much to offer this community; generations of knowledge and ways of living already established and blooming. Cycles of being mixed with a blend of tradition and new ways of doing. No, I cannot say I will change a thing. My hope, instead, is that I add to what is already playing itself out. That I can contribute to the development and vision of the people I have come to see as neighbors and friends. That I can leave here and say we are friends and from that friendship we worked together and achieved something, together. That I can say I have left with a greater understanding of myself and this world. That I have learned something, taken something from this experience. And in teaching me, this community learns more about itself. In being the new eyes and ears of this community, I offer a new angle. That is all I want. To contribute, to add to, to offer up myself with an open heart and an open mind. To reflect back the successes and potential all around me...the dreams in the making.

Our director, a kind and knowledgeable man uses this quote often:

"If you've come to help me, you are wasting your time! But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together."

-Anonymous Aboriginal Australian Woman

True that.

I've decided this is going to be an epic blog entry. So many experiences, so many things to say. I haven't been sharing the vastness, the richness of this experience like I thought I would...but I guess that's what happens when you're IN IT so deeply. You lose the perspective, the big picture needed to share it with the diversity of eyes and minds that cross these pages. Mostly, these words are for my friends and family back home so they know where I am at: physically, emotionally, spiritually. Sorry I've been a little distant. Have no fear ~ I am learning, growing, and doing well =)

Lizards live on my wall. Little cute, itty bitty baby ones, the size of a sliver, & bigger Mama and Papa ones, the size of my index finger. They eat little insects and so I don't mind their company. Only thing is, they also leave little bitty poop on the walls and curtains.

I've learned to cook from "scratch" which is a humbling process. The recipe calls for tomato paste and so I improvise with mashed up tomatoes? My bread never comes out just right but it revealed to me my lack of patience...you have to let it rise! Fried plantain is a fun treat. I make lots of fish broths with consist of fresh fish (scaled, gutted, and sliced by mwa thanks to the teaching of my host dad, and my boyfriend, Marlie), provisions (like dasheeng or tannia), breadfruit, fig, green pawpaw, carrot, onion, pumpkin, and cabbage. Ah yes, lentils or rice. A few or plenty... the great thing is you can mix it up. Improvising is the key to success (in cuisine and pretty much everything else here). I love pumpkin soup, particularly special if it has coconut milk and lobster. Fresh juice: lime, guava, pineapple, mango, orange/tangerine, soursop. I tried a pumpkin juice, with nutmeg and spice (cinnamon) once. YummMm.

Living in season. Something else I'm learning to appreciate. Eat and enjoy LOTS of avocados (Zaboca!) as it falls from the trees and then wait another year until it comes again. Relish in the bounty of the moment, not expecting it to always be there but enjoying it when it comes.

When I first arrived on island I was spellbound. So much beauty. Trees and flowers and sounds and tastes. Words spoken in a different way. You think you will remember this, that every time you walk on your back porch you will see the beauty all around you and be taken. Except, that isn't what has happened. I have forgotten many times. Things have become "normal", or I guess that is an excuse to say my eyes have begun to see things through the lens of the mundane, ungrateful. I am working on this. Cultivating more joy and gravity and gratitude in my life is my top priority. An endless cycle I play with. I tell myself "Look around! You should be smiling ear to ear. This is what you wanted, but more. Beautiful views, vibrant culture, interesting people, curious children, and plenty, plenty to learn." This is what I joined the Peace Corps for. Somehow, though, I lose sight. I get bogged down in fear, apprehension, frustration, uncertainty. Yes, frustration is probably the number one battle I face. But then I try to remember the words of our former Country Director...she told us that something is WRONG if you are not pushed beyond your limits, found uncomfortable and overwhelmed at times. THIS IS the process of crossing culture...of becoming a human that is learning to step out of their own box, their own comfort zone, their own knowing. This is not easy. No. It is not. In some ways I feel I have met up to the challenge and in some ways I feel I am failing, I have missed the mark, I have not taken full advantage of the situation. And that is life. I will take it as it comes and try my best, knowing I have plenty yet to go and yet have come so far.

Thinking of that, how far have I come? What has changed INSIDE of me since I reached this island more than a year ago. This is a question I cannot answer, put a finger on. It's one of those things I will have to let happen...let shape me, penetrate me, mold me and then look back on when it is finished and say "this is what that time in my life meant..." Yes, the hindsight, reflection piece will come later. I can say I have changed. But I would have changed anywhere I was, for these are the years, this is the time in life when changes are made, right? 20 something angst, questioning, seeking, experimenting. Whether it was Peace Corps or a move to another part of the States or the start of a career, surely this time was meant for me to change, learn, and grow. This is the context I have chosen...although I cannot say with clarity why...not right now. I guess I wanted to see life from the various angles, open up my worldview...hear the stories. Yes, I like to hear the stories. And there are definitely lots of great stories all around.

All this to say what?

Life here is humbling. Yes, I am definitely a much humbler person than ever before. Recognizing the basic, primal nature of human beings. Seeing the stories as they play out (including my own).

I have decided to play a much more active role in the Primary School than I did last year. We were told in our beginning time as volunteers that are role is NOT to teach at schools, because there is enough human resources within the community to do this. So I stayed out of these things. I helped with the library and would offer my help for functions or events, after school activities. But what I realized as last year went on is that during the day most people are working, on their farms or otherwise, or they are at the schools, either as teacher or student. What does that leave for me, the Peace Corps Volunteer to do? HMmMmm...not much. And a frustration and disheartening experience. Here you came to offer up the skills you have tried to gather in school and yet...where to give them? who to give them in a village of 400 people living out their lives? The question became: What do I have to offer to this community, right here, right now that makes sense to them. And it was simple. The school has such a huge role in the community, not to mention a huge responsibility. In terms of community development, it is a great place to bring in projects and ideas to benefit the students, but also the community as a whole.

The school does have great, qualified, and committed teachers. Meanwhile, they are also going to college for teacher certification, trying to run the ins and outs of school activities, and taking care of their families at home. Overworked. Stretched thin. On Fridays, 2 of the classes were being supervised by the principal because the teachers were in class in Roseau, so I offered to help with the classes on these days. This allows the principal to better carry out her own administrative duties, which are indeed endless. I never pictured myself doing this, teaching a class of 3rd of 4th graders, and really it was never something I would have said I wanted to do either. Yet, it's strange how you adapt to fit into situations. I find myself overwhelmed with it and yet satisfied in it too. They're so full of energy, so full of life....so full of mischief. My respect for students has truly reached a new level. It is fun and rewarding, but also filled with endless work and challenges.

The top priority for us is getting a school lunch program going. Right now, students go home or bring food to school for lunch. This poses a problem, because often children eat snacky, sugary foods or maybe just bread and juice, coming back to class hyper. You get the picture... Not to mention the importance of a well balanced meal in the learning process and in brain development. The great news is a company is sponsoring our program and renovations for the kitchen take place this Saturday, followed by an "Eat Fish Day" that will be carried out by a local fishermen's cooperative in which students and their parents will be served fish in different cooking styles.

There is still some work for me to do in the library. Right now, we have the books organized and separated into reading levels. All the students are orientated to the library and check out books on a regular basis. This is great! But we still have lots of work to do. The room is kind of used as a storage space too because there aren't any other available spaces. This leaves the room a bit hectic when kids come inside to get books. We still need to spruce it up with some paint and fun charts. As of right now, I pretty much run the library, in the sense that I organize the children to come in and pick books every other week. When I go, where does this leave the library? Who will be taking on this responsibility? Well, this is my next aim in the project. Getting it at a sustainable level.

Within our community is Antrizle Beach, one of the few sandy beaches on the entire east coast. During our village council inauguration, the Prime Minister gave the village council EC$40,000 to improve the road leading to the beach. This has been a community interest for a long time and so it was great news. We're now about to start construction work on the road, beginning Oct. 1st. Meanwhile, we're working to mobilize community members to help in the project, stretching the funds as much as possible. Eco-tourism is highly focused on for economic development on the island and it is hoped that through offering accessible sights our community can begin to generate income from passing visitors. It seems that most people in the community are in support of these steps and are eager to see the project move forward.

The youth group I had put much of my efforts in for the first year of my service seems to be coming apart. While there are various factors for this, I think I will have to see how it plays out. While I want to see the group succeed and develop, there is no sense in pushing for it to work if the members are not invested in it as well.

The Girls' Empowerment Camp we organized last month was a success and I just loved it. What a bunch of great ladies. Out of the camp, the girls expressed a desire to organize themselves into a rounders sports group, so that's our next move. We will be seeking members, sponsorship, and start practicing over the next few months.

A little bit of this and a little bit of that. That's my life here. I like it. It's dynamic and flexible. Always asking something new from me. Sometimes I have it to give, sometimes I don't feel that I do. But I know I am trying my best and for that I am happy. When I come to the day with an open mind and clear eyes, I can see all that is offered in the moment and things flow so well. Other days, I wake up and feel bogged down and lost in it, not really open to the possibilities. I am a much, much stronger person now. I see this. I am in a learning and growing stage, a work in progress....please bare with me =)

I'm going to start organizing my photos into albums and post them soon. As I write, rain pours down, the 2nd day in a row. Luckily, it is giving me the time to catch up inside. Some cleaning, some writing, some relaxing.

Peace & Love from Dominica,

Jasmine

Since my last entry I have :

celebrated the beginning of my 24th year of life

said farewell to a group of volunteers as they successfully completed their service

enjoyed the summer bounty of avocados, oranges, and mangoes

painted bus stops & signs with an NGO (Visions)and members of my community

enjoyed sushi, complete with fresh fish, mushrooms, and cream cheese

met with the other 58 volunteers in St. Lucia for an annual conference/training

organized a 3 day girls' empowerment camp (which will start tomorrow!)

learned how to cook iguana

enjoyed the nearby Antrizle Beach on slow afternoons

played hide-and-seek with my ever curious neighbors, Keyvanel & Stanulis

...and the list goes on....

What I'm really saying is I don't write on this enough and need to work on that cuz I can't really capture this experience on a month to month glance.

Anyway, here are some visuals!

Craft fun at Summer Day Camp

So, what if I told you that community work involves hanging out on the beach for an entire afternoon? If I had heard this a year ago, I would have said wishful thinking. For the longest time I have deprived myself of doing fun things in my community because of this weird guilt thing we PCVs tend to meddle internally with. Like, "Oh, I joined the Peace Corps to make a difference." We feel bad because we are not "working hard", meaning we are not going to an office M-F, 9-5. We are not waking up each morning building huge structures or saving peoples' lives. We are not "saving the world". Most of the time we do not even see a solid tangle result of our efforts.

Here is what I am finding out community work entails. It means walking around your village and talking to people, sometimes for longer than maybe you feel like that day. It means learning about all the different personalities and how these things effect the scope of community development. It means sitting down with children and making them feel good simply by laughing with them, throwing a ball, or reading a book. It means sitting by the bus stop and making small talk. It means sitting by the bus stop (I do that a lot here) and watching the rounders game, or even practicing rounders with the girls. It means, yes, going to the beach with the neighborhood kids and making sand castles. It means all these things that a year ago I would have not considered "work".

And this isn't to say all we do is sit around and talk either. I am accepting my role as the community mover and shaker...the nag, I guess. The one who has the time to finish the details or attend to the in-between work. The one who, when all else fails, will get it done.

I am learning to change my mindset on what my work here entails and simply be present day to day. I look for the ways I can move things forward, bring ideas together, or just sit and talk things through. It isn't the ideal image. It's real. It's the nitty griddy and I'm learning to embrace it...

And it only took me close to a year, ha! =)

I am lost in a pastel swirl of tides and sweat drops. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. Something taking root? Shaking something loose? I do not know where my heart resides for now, but crave ever more to climb the trees, wander off the tracks, explore my own deepest song, sang only at night, only alone, no eyes watching, only the steady beat of my heart leading me forward.

Caribbean life is magical, but not to create a picture postcard image. All I know is I am supposed to be here. Something resonates. I have learned to walk slower and put my sole to the earth. I have learned that hatred exists and life is not supposed to be easy. I have learned that I can do more than they ever told me, ever showed me. I am learning to teach myself. I am learning to ask for help. I am learning some people do not know how to help other people. I am learning I do not know much, but that my desire and my drive will keep me learning all my life. I have learned that I am much more fragile than I ever knew and yet bolder than most can handle.

Where does the river flow to? Where does wave meet with wave? How can I reach that place inside myself that knows and stay there? I want to stay there...

To be present for another, you must first be present with yourself. I have found myself running, confused at the intensity of the wind. I did not realize how much fear had taken root in my life. I don't hesitate though, I will match step with step and hold myself firmly. I will get there. I always have...

....so here are some images.

Benz pool

yes, the rivers really do make me this happy

Hampstead Beach (Pirates of the Caribbean site)

flowers on my okra plant

UhH, water or milk?

the night I found out my Nana died

grow little seedlings, grow!

Come as you are and not as you're perceived to be and I will do the same. Come before me in openness and express all that you hold dear. Offer me some of your burden if the load feels to heavy and I will ask the same from you when needed. Do not bow to me nor look down upon me. Lets walk....sing as we go along and simply bask in our joined moments and revel at the differences that give us each something more to share. Honor the holy in me and will honor the holy in you. Yes, let us meet in the middle here and learn, exchange ideas, and laugh. I don't know how we got here. I don't know where we will be headed, but I sense this moment is profound and each step will burn deeply, so deeply into our skin and reach our bones, to our very souls. I sense that we will exchange more than thoughts, we will exchange lives for a moment. We will create a union that is larger than us. We are creating destiny. We are expanding Love. We are. Yes, we are.

"Go ahead and make fun of my make-up, you plastic-suited, nocturnal, self-righteous dirtbag. Despite having a cape and being named after a flying rodent, you can't even get off the ground without your silly grappling hooks. If you honestly cared about justice, you'd ditch your corny outfit and join the Peace Corps!"

-The Joker

Some time has drifted by, and I wish I could recap on the daily learning edges in my life and experiences and yet time and words fall short. Here are a few things that have happened:

I saw a sea turtle laying eggs! Not a leatherback...it was smaller and had a hard shell but equally as amazing for me. She hid herself behind palm leaves and so even finding her was a blessing, her trail leading us there. By the time we saw her she was already laying her eggs, dozens and dozens of little white pearls. This huge reptile carried with her an eerie beauty and she seemed indifferent to my presence and touch. After some time, she covered the hole and slyly moved around leaves and branches to hide any traces of her eggs. She then slowly moved to the water, floating away. We plan to go back to the spot and check on the little ones progress and safety. I named her Shiva =)

The Minister of Agriculture held a farmer's meeting for all of the Carib Territory and our bordering community of Atkinson a few weeks ago to discuss any issues they are currently facing. The farmers turned out in large numbers, revealing their committed and mobilized nature, as well as the huge importance of farming for the areas economy and livelihood. And boy did they let these guys have it. I was impressed with how strongly they stood up for themselves and expressed their concerns and interests uncensored. This starkness of truth is a common thing throughout the island on many matters. As I see it, there isn't much "beating around the bush"...nah, if Dominicans have something to say, trust me, they will say it. And not in a "sugar coated" way. I see this as one of the culture's strengths, as well as weaknesses. Sometimes the importance of tact, or saying something in a receptive way seems to be neglected and can prevent things from moving forward in a positive way. But also, it is somewhat refreshing to see someone simply speak their mind. It seems like this area would really benefit from Peace Corps Volunteer's who are specialized in agriculture because it has such a crucial role in the development of the country.

Tonight is full moon. There will be a nice cookout by the beach with roasted breadfruit, codfish, dumplings, and drinks. I plan to enjoy it fully.

I'll write again soon.

Jasmine

Dominica is the nesting place for the large Leatherback and other sea turtles. From late March to October, the endangered Leatherback sea turtles arrive on the Southeast beaches to lay their bundle of eggs in holes they carve in the dark sand. Rooted in tradition, some Dominicans hunt these grown turtles for their meat as well as the eggs and recently hatched turtles. Many Dominicans, including close friends of mine, tell me they love a good sea turtle meal or baby sea turtle soup. The eggs are also seen to have medicinal value. RoSTI is an organization in Dominica which protects these endangered turtles by patrolling the beaches during these months and preventing any hunting that may take place. Needless to say, there is surrounding controversy on the topic as tensions between tradition and modern reality meet.

Well, Saturday night a few volunteers and myself met up with another volunteer who has been doing some work with RoSTI in hopes of seeing the turtles ourselves. The turtles usually lay their eggs at night, anywhere from 8 p.m. to sunrise. We treked to the nearby Rosalie beach which is known for frequent sightings and sat..and waited.

The moon rose over the sea and we lay in the sand, chatting about island life and the 3 other volunteers upcoming return to the States in August. Others were there as well, 2 locals giving tours to American students who would be returning home on a flight leaving at 6 a.m. that morning, hopeful they would see the turtles before they left. Another volunteer told me how strange it had become, that he felt more comfortable talking with the 2 locals than these group of young American students. Just 2 years ago he was one of them. And yet life on Dominica had shifted his perspective and the topics and discussions of the students seemed to fall far from anything relevant here. Almost ashamed to admit, there had become this sense of discomfort with the perceived arrogance and "big talk" of these curious young students. They had met "tribal people".....

Well, it wasn't the night to see sea turtles and I will plan another night by the sea, watching and waiting to bear witness to this giant reptile's birth process.

Here's a little bit of my recent life in pictures

my host families new grandson, Adan

sunflower in bloom

Madams in Madras, Feast of St. Isidore in Grand Bay

drying castor seeds to make oilthey "pOp!" open from the heat of the sun

Cricket and Rounder's team cleaning Atkinson's playing field

Jamal!

my "beginners" garden

Ma Patrick, my Patwa tutor

Yumm, coconut water

Here's the words I'm going to try to live by for the week....

Live with intention.

Walk to the edge.

Listen hard.

Practice wellness.

Play with abandon.

Laugh.

Choose with no regret.

Continue to learn.

Appreciate your friends.

Do what you love.

Live as if this is all there is.-Mary Anne Radmacher

After the ups and downs, the moments of feeling lost and the moments of joy and excitement, after regret and redemption...

after the music filled bus rides and the 4th broken "slipper"

after full moon consciousness, garden philosophy, goat chat, bush rum remedies, coloring book competitions, peeling sunburns, compost experimentation, cocoa tea elaborations, patwa codes, provision dinners, domino competitions, games of hide-and-seek among the fig trees, church beat prayers, sea shell treasures, saffron dye, and vast amounts of sky and blue, blue sea covering us, surrounding us, enveloping us.

utter confusion, pure delight.

I came here with an idea but will leave with a true knowing.

The idea of something vs. the beating heart that lies before you. Take the truth. Swallow it whole. Let your illusions die to now. Eyes are eyes. Skin only skin. All feet are meant for walking...to wander, to learn in these beautiful lands.

So I came up with this idea for "blog requests".....

What do you want to hear about life in Dominica? What pictures would you like to see? Any questions about Peace Corps or the experience of being a PCV? Questions or areas of interest? Pass 'em on and I'll do a post about it! Hey, why not? Let's collaborate.

"Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate, or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it." -Henry Miller

If I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, I can hear the crickets chirping a lullaby.

Just because we speak the same language in theory, does not mean we understand each other. Dialect and context, not to mention history, interpretation, and assumptions, shape our words and the meanings we place to them.

Sometimes when we say 2 different things we really mean the same thing. You say sive. I say chive.

Your books and your knowledge may mean nothing in context to my history, my experience, and my people. Knowledge cannot be an objective process as facts are viewed through a subjective lens of culture and environment. Spring and winter mean nothing when you're climate is almost the same year round.

We fear what we do not know, what we do not understand. Fear takes many shapes and sizes, whether it is violence, indifference, or avoidance.

I can imagine your world and your experience and try to empathize with it, but I will never know what it means to be you for I am always looking at you through my eyes.

Sometimes work and play are the same thing.

To bake bread from scratch is something very very few people have done if you take into consideration the task of growing the wheat and other ingredients, processing them, and then using them to actually make the bread.

Everything starts in nature, everything.

Sometimes being tired is simply a sign of boredom. There is always something to do and almost anything you do can be fun if you come with the right perspective.

Every plant has a function, has a purpose. Likewise for animals and people.

Technology is power, a dangerous thing but when used properly can change the world in many positive ways.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. We're all doing the best we can.

We learn as we go. Trial and error is a learning style, but so is listening to the wisdom of those who have already learned from trial and error. Learn from your neighbor. Let the world be your teacher.

Children have bigger hearts than anyone around. Nurture them.

Sometimes you just gotta laugh and go with the flow.

The work at our primary school library has been a slow but progressive process. We're getting there! We have plenty more books, an organizational system set up, and reorganization of the actual library room. Painting is coming next with some paint supplies already obtained.

More K-2 books are still needed! Would you like to help in this process? Contact me or check out www.betterworld.com. You can buy reasonably priced used books and overseas shipping is only $2.95. Sending 1 or 2 books can really add up for our small school's library.

Sincerely,

Jasmine

I remember when I first arrived on island and immediately took note of the differences in time here. Like, nothing started on time. Bus drivers had 20 minute conversations while passengers waited in the hot, packed bus to leave. Meetings were canceled if rain drops fell from the sky. Lines to buy things took forever and there was only one person in front of me. I took note of this and skimmed my memory of the multicultural classes taken in school. "Oh yeah" I said, "time is perceived differently in this culture. More value is placed on the quality of interactions and less on the efficiency and "productivity" of them." I understood all this conceptually, in theory, in jest.

Well, here I am, over 7 months into "island time" and suddenly I am catching myself exhibiting the same behaviors. I get it now, experientially, personally, in a real and true sense. Of course time is perceived differently here. You can't plan 10 things to do in your day because things take longer to do here and they're harder to do. Multitasking just doesn't seem to work. Trust me, I've tried with repeated efforts of failure. The goal, the outcome, takes more effort.

Everyone doesn't own a vehicle to get from place to place; they have to walk uphill or take a bus or hitchhike. Your schedule isn't just determined by your own actions; it's determined by the schedules and actions of those all around you too.

Suppose I want to go to the capital to do some errands: get money from the bank, buy some groceries, pay a bill or 2. Here's the scenario: First you wake early to catch the bus, waiting along the roadside for one to pass. It might take 10 minutes or 30 or an hour. The bus drives by, you hop on. But don't be in a rush to get to your destination because the driver still has to pick up people all along the way, some who need help loading produce to sell at the market or an elderly woman who needs help onto the bus. Once everyone is packed into the bus the journey begins. I say journey because it's not like you're driving on this well-maintained straight highway. You're driving on a narrow, windy, and steep road with edges that fall straight down to your death. Oh yeah, potholes everywhere too. Anyway, 2 hours later you arrive in Roseau and hop off the bus. And there is no need to delve into the universal tedious nature of errand running, but I have to mention you'll be wandering around, looking for that damn sour cream you've been craving and it might be in stock at one of the places, but most likely it's not and so you'll have to keep on checking for it until it comes around next week...next month. Okay, so you finish in Roseau and you're ready to go home! Drag all your bags and your sweaty, smelly self to the bus stop and find the bus that will be leaving in the shortest amount of time. 30 minutes (or 2 hours, who knows)later you take off, everyone packed into the bus with their bags and babies and fried chicken and beer and grumpiness from being on the hot streets and in the long lines all morning. Now this is a grand humbling experience. Your squeezed tightly against your neighbor, someone whom you may have nothing in common with except for your need to get home. And you find, this, in itself, becomes a weird sort of bonding experience. The bus driver plays his music of choice, loudly and blatantly. Some may sing along. The gentleman in the back may fall asleep on your shoulder, the mother at your side breastfeeding her baby, and the 2 teenagers in the front cracking jokes about this guy or that thing. No doubt, there will be stops along the way home. Maybe for bread or gas or something to drink (or even alcohol for the driver). All along the way people get off the bus, maybe a few get on. Searching for their grocery bags, you know the black ones, except all bags from stores here are black and so often people mix their bags up and have to search for them around the bus. 10 lb. bags of sugar or big bags of flour which have now poured on the seat or floor. Bleh, anyway, you get my gist. It's no easy, well thought out and planned task. You want to be home by 3 but you may not get home until 5 and you have a meeting at 6 so you have to get home, put things in order and walk down the road. Most likely, no big deal really, if you're a few minutes late. Or maybe you're late because you spent all morning doing laundry by the river(I'll exclude myself in this scenario cuz I do have the privilege (HUGE PRIVILEGE) of a washing machine) and are waiting for the edges of your sleeves to finish drying in the sun so you can take them inside before you leave.

No, time is not linear, contained, or easily quantifiable here. It is this whole interactive, flexible, and subjective thing. You have this to do, but maybe you run into your neighbor as you're heading there and so you say hello and chat for a minute. Exact time means little when quality is measured over quantity and efficiency. And so I see this turning into a rant but it all just dawned on me how "Westerners" or whatever you wanna call us busy busy busy, want results people judge cultures that use time differently, measure success differently. Neither is right or wrong. Neither is better or worse. Both sides have something to offer the other when thinking about accomplishing the goal and the process it takes to get there.

For myself, though, I'm learning to slow down. Talk slower. Listen a little more deeply. I don't stress out if I'm 20 minutes late here or spend an hour tending my garden before "accomplishing" something else. I see time as so much more expansive now, so much less rigid. There is room to be breathe in my schedule now. All through college I ran around, from school to work to internship to friends to sleep. There weren't these "in-between" moments I feel so much here. And yet I still catch myself struggling to slow down to the pace of village life. Everyone always tells me I'm in a hurry, I'm too busy, I'm always going somewhere. They say it in a friendly way, an observation. I keep reminding myself to take a minute to say hello to this neighbor or chat with that lady. I mean with all this focus on getting something done, how much do you really get "done"??? What about a smile, an interesting conversation, a connection? I think I'm gonna try and take a little bit of this time thing home with me when I leave...

Meanwhile, some volunteers and visitors and I hiked to Boiling Lake last Friday. It rained 90% of the 5.5 hours. Well, I guess we were in a rainforest and all. Mix in an overpacked bus, soaking wet clothes, and food poisoning (don't eat berries off trees unless you now they're edible) and you have a very long day. I'll leave it at that.

Today I leave for Antigua for a few days. I'm really excited for this little break. Antigua is known for its beautiful beaches and I want sun, sun, sun and ocean views while my feet dig into the sand. I feel this tinge of guilt picking at me whenever I leave my village to do something fun but I've decided to battle this and give myself permission to enjoy just as much as I strive to serve. I rationalize: I would be doing the island an injustice not to enjoy its splendors. If you don't take care of self, how can you have anything substantial to give in return?

Self care is world peace.

until next time,

jaz

p.s. just to tie in the title of the blog, avocados here(known as pears) are enormous and delicious and should be sold throughout the world.

Little hands grab me, sticky from guava ice-pops and feverish games of hide-and-seek and chase. They call my name. In boldness and innocence they invite me to join them. Smiles so big and laughter so sure my heart drowns. Kicking empty bottles like balls and raising up sticks torn out of curiosity from the trees. Not knowing any better or any worse, they ask me for a sweet. Well-intentioned questions swarm me. So freely they give me their unbridled loyalty. Holding my hands as if I were the only sure thing around. Sea castle villages by the sea consume my afternoon. Coloring and drawing humble stick figures like never before. Without having earned it, I find their love and joy overwhelming. They climb trees and bring fruits on my behalf. They translate langauges and interpret facts for me. They gave me the key to the gate of this community. They gave me a chance.

These kids have given me a home in a way that the adults were too afraid to. Their trust astounds me and it is in having their trust that their parents have begun to trust me too. Every day I learn something new as I follow their strong little footsteps. When all else seems to fail, their smiles keep me going.

P.S. a mouthful of sand can do ya good, believe it or not.

I've gotten so used to cold showers that when I stayed at Jungle Bay (this awesome eco-friendly spa-ish place) with some visitors I didn't even check to see if there was warm water. The last day, when I went to turn the shower off I noticed this red line on the nob...HmMm..got me thinkin', so I adjusted the nob and whatta know (!), warm water on demand. Yeah, talk about adaptation at it's silliest; I could have been enjoying a hot steaming shower for 3 days. This thought came to my mind this morning as I cringed at the cold water taunting me from the shower head. Washing my dreads is the worst & yet it's amazing what you can convince yourself into and out of. Mind over matter...yes...mind over matter. My mantra is: it's only cold for a second, it's only cold for a second. The mind has strange powers, like turning icy cold into not so bad if only you can divert your attention. I say everyone should take a cold shower ever now and again; it's good for your character. Don't prove it to me....prove it to yourself!

I think that second cup of coffee was too much for me this morning.

Anyway, here's some pics:

my neighbors, my friends

guilty hands

Jecquan & his mad ride

Girl Guides' Outing

Library work

fun with dots

they love books

my shadow, Keyvanel

Jump! [Youth Group river fun]

Stanilus having fun with the camera

This is where they greet me in the mornings...

I've always loved rain. Coming from a desert landscape, the rain is a rare blessing, making me feel cleansed and playful.

I welcome the regular rain showers here as well. They come and go without warning and stay for moments or hours. I love the rain, that is, of course, unless I'm washing clothes. All of sudden, rain becomes a hindrance, a force larger than myself that shapes my actions and my day. After 2 days, my clothes are still not dry and I wait for the coming of the sun....

It's a complete mindset really. In the States, the natural cycles of the earth minimally impact our lives (or at least we try to make it that way as much as possible). We go to grocery stores that sell produce year round; we use air-conditioning in the summer and heaters in the winter; we use streetlights to guide our way and so may not even take note of the wax & wane of the moon; and, of course, we use drying machines to dry our clothes, rain or shine.

So let the rain fall and allow me to acknowledge the splendor and the magnitude of mother earth, learning to live my life in accordance with her cycles and not simply my own.

Okay, so I think I've gotten a little lazy with the blog thing. Or well, it's not laziness cuz I write in my journals regularly...it's more like organizational confusion...trying to keep track of what I've written in which forum at which time. So here goes it...

The 6 month mark really did something for me here. Visitors came, Carnival came, and something that feels like a whole next step in this process developed. All of a sudden I feel "normal"....relationships have been formed, some kind of reciprocal understanding developed, and a sense of context....having a reference point...has emerged.

I'm working with the nearby secondary school once a week with their guidance counselor who has a social work degree like myself. She seems like a great woman and I think this is going to be a successful partnership. She has already done training with a group of students to start a peer support group and so the next stage is to get the group active in the school. This was an idea I had already been brainstorming about when thinking of projects, so its perfect that this is a new project in the school. I am also doing counseling sessions with students who are having issues at home/school & could benefit for more individualized attention. I feel comfortable in this role, particularly because of my internship last year as a therapist in an adolescent group home setting. There is also plans to start the Character Counts program in the school and I hope to help with this. I can see my role in this setting really growing and taking on shape as the months progress...& Yay! for a scheduled/concrete/regular "working environment" to go to...

The school library is still in the working stages. I've gotten lots of books to add to their collection, removed TONS of old/damaged/irrelevant ones, and organized and categorized materials. The project is moving along much slower than I had initially envisioned, but I want to make sure the community is on board with the project and it's not just me jumping in there and making "my" library. Initially, I didn't sense much enthusiasm or interest from the school staff, but after I started discussing it with them, asking for input, including the students in the cleaning and organizing of the materials, and just kind of being a cheerleader for the whole thing...I've noticed a complete turn-around. At first, the principal was really against the idea of getting rid of old and damaged books because she felt that "something on the shelf was better than nothing"...which I can understand. I think once she saw that the place looked so much better with organized materials and that I was actually working towards getting new/more useful materials, she suddenly switched her mentality. Now she's the one telling me "throw that away"..."that's not useful"...it's great. The girls just love coming into the room and helping me and even spend their recess time helping out. I've also got a secondary student that has been helping me after school who needs community service hours for school. The principal is now brainstorming about all sorts of new things she'd like to do with the library and around the school and I'm excited to be a part of it...

It's true what they say...start small, build relationships, and the rest will develop slowly and naturally. It was that whole thing about patience. Oh yeah, patience... that's what they meant.

The youth group has been a challenging piece for me...it's hard enough to build trust & authenticity with at-risk youth without cultural barriers...so for me here in the Caribbean I have found it to be that much more of a challenge. I think slowly, slowly we are getting somewhere though...

Just this last Saturday we organized a river cook-out. It was a good hour walk to get there...food & pots in our bags, treckin' up and down the steep and windy roads to an area called Concord in the Carib Territory. I was really proud of the groups self-motivating attitude and they really got things done and had I good time...

The group also just re-elected their president and secretary and such and so I feel there is a new, stronger ownership of the group as "their" group.

I feel like this is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to community work going on, but I also find it tedious [a even a little boring] to really lay it all out and describe it...eek...that kinda sounds bad. Oh well. I think the thing is the more I write on this, the easier it is to explain things as I go, but when I wait weeks, there is too much accumulated stuff to talk about. Okay. Yeah. I'll work on that.

Thanks everyone for reading my blog! It's such an encourager for me.

Peace & Love.

Jaz

What an honor to share this place with my dearest of soul sisters....just the spark I needed to get me to the next step in my journey. Thank You. I am blessed.

I will paint our dreams down the spiral of your spine.

Maids of Mer, we walked through the rivers

climbing through forests

the well walked path never did seem to suit us did it?

children opening the gate

smiles and questions

games of hide-and-seek

trust given only in tiny glances

Babies and love at home

Curiosity and warm hugs for a visit

she connections

soul sister stuff

blessings

a promise to never weaken the knots

tied by a melon, asking for change

I will see you there, my friend.

I take you everywhere I go

and it feels like home.

Recycling at it's finest

[potatoe chip bags & coke cans]

Steel Pan Band