It occurs to me that I should update this to let everyone know that I'm done with the Peace Corps. My close-of-service date was May 7, and I flew home that day!

I thought about trying to document my readjustment and reverse culture shock, but, well, I didn't.

I doubt I'll update this blog again, but I'll leave it up for those who are curious about Peace Corps or who just want to look at pictures of my cat. Thanks for reading!

The big excitement of the barrio was the recent arrival of pavement! Yes, the Callejón de la Loma, home to a few thousand people and roughly the same number of motorcycles, has been paved. Well... kind of. They did about half of the streets. Maybe a third. And then the giant trucks and workers and piles of gravel just disappeared one day, as suddenly as they had arrived.

One afternoon, I took a class of kids out with my camera to document the event. Here are a few of the photos they took:

(This one isn't really related to the paving, but I think it's a cool photo. Check out the large version! This restaurant has been abandoned and decaying for a while now, but you can still read the menu on the wall.)

Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of my favorite aspect of the newly-paved roads: rollerblades! Literally the day after the streets were paved, kids of all ages started scooting around the neighborhood on rollerblades. Where did all the rollerblades come from? I have never seen them in a store here. Did everyone just have rollerblades saved in their closet, waiting for the day when the asphalt would arrive? Amazing!

Hello, blog! It has been awhile since I posted anything here. Here's a piece I wrote for the Gringo Grita, our Peace Corps magazine.

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When people disparage this fine publication, they often say, “The Grita is just full of articles about people’s cats and stuff.” This is confusing, as in the past two years the Grita has only published one article about someone’s cat. (It was Joanna Carman’s cat.) A few more dog stories have been featured, but still, the average number of pet-related articles per issue is very low. Too low, I believe. To correct that, I am going to tell you about my cat, Duarte.

Duarte is, objectively speaking, the cutest kitten ever. He is small and fuzzy and has adorable white boots on his feet. He is very clever and has very sharp claws, which he likes to use to scale my back. (I never climbed Pico Duarte, but I have been summitted by Duarte many times.) I found Duarte sitting on the edge of the main road of my barrio. He was ridiculously tiny and diseased looking, but I picked him up and took him with me. My mom was visiting at the time, and she took him into Sosua to see the vet, who said he was about three weeks old--far too young to be separated from his mother. (You may have met Duarte at Thanksgiving. You may have inquired about my "pet rat." Please know that I have not forgiven anyone for slandering baby Duarte in that fashion.) My mom and I nursed Duarte back to health and now he is a happy, healthy, not-even-remotely-ratlike kitten.

Having Duartecito in my life has made me a much happier person. It’s hard to stay down when a cute little cat is rolling around on you and purring. However, he has also made me contemplate animal rights and human rights. Although I love animals, I do believe in an abstract way that human lives are more important than animal lives. And in an abstract way, I don’t think humans and animals have to compete. But here, in a very concrete way, I have taken an abandoned animal into my home and spent thousands of pesos on him. Duarte is only six months old and has been to the vet four times. He has all of his necessary vaccines. I buy fancy cat food to make sure he’s properly nourished. Duarte, one might say, has a better life than some of the kids in my barrio. My mom even sent him a care package with some light-up cat toys that any muchacho would likely enjoy.

I know that as volunteers we don’t have a lot of income. But I didn’t hesitate before taking out money from my American savings account to get medical care for my cat. Taking care of Duarte has only driven home to me how privileged I am. And it raises again the question I’ve faced throughout my two years here: what can I do? I can’t take every campo kid into the doctor. I can tell people about medical missions, and I can translate for them. I can buy cat food for one small cat, and I can help sort food donations for earthquake relief. But I can’t give every Dominican the same standard of life that Duarte and I have. This is extremely depressing—and it’s exactly the reason why I need a feline companion to cheer me up.

I think having Duarte is a good reminder of one of the reasons I came to the DR in the first place: to come see poverty up close and personal. If someone asked you to donate $30 to the Humane Society, you'd probably say no, thinking, "Gosh, it's a good cause, but I'll donate when I get back to the US and have a real job," and forget about it. But if someone asked you to pay $1000 pesos to get your own pet vaccinated so you can take him back to the US, well, you'd do it, if you're anything like me. And if someone asked you to donate money to UNICEF to "save the children," it would be pretty easy to justify not donating money. What children? Why do they need money? I could use that money to purchase things that I need, like Hello Kitty accessories. But when it's your own cute neighbor children drinking contaminated tap water, it's a lot harder to be indifferent. Our experiences here, in addition to the tangible benefits we're providing to community members (including stray animals), are giving us all a better understanding of our own privileges as citizens of a developed nation and of what poverty really means. It doesn't necessarily mean naked babies from Save the Children commercials, but it might mean not having access to medical care for your children, let alone your cat.

Although I am conscious of this disparity, I am still attached to my cat. I asked Duarte what he thought about this kind of global injustice. He said, "Meow." I suppose that's as good of an answer as any.

There are some students and professors visiting from a college in Canada. On Friday, I led two students and one professor on a small trip to a neighboring town vis public transportation. The price for the bus is 35 pesos (about $1 US). Upon exiting the bus, I handed the driver exactly enough pesos for four passengers. He looked shocked and handed the pesos back. "I can't take your pesos," he said. "You're in the mafia!"

"What?" I said.

"Mafia," he said. "I need dollars from you. Twenty dollars. Each."

"I'm not in the mafia. I'm a teacher. I live here, and I don't have any dollars. You have to take these pesos."

"No, no. Too dangerous. I need dollars."

"Don't try to trick me! I know it costs 35 pesos. I live here."

"I wouldn't try to trick you! I would be in trouble with God if I did that. Twenty dollars."

I ended up just shoving the pesos at him and walking away briskly. But seriously, if he thought we were in the mafia, shouldn't we have gotten to ride for free? Lest I send my mafia henchmen out after the bus driver? I mean, really.

In English class yesterday, the kids were filling out a sheet about their preferences. A twelve-year-old girl showed me the sentence, "My favorite movie is Yanblo Bandan" and asked me if it was right. It took me a second to figure it out, but then I helped her write "My favorite movie is Jean-Claude Van Damme." (I didn't even want to get into explaining that Jean-Claude Van Damme is not, strictly speaking, a movie.)

When I ask a question, my youngest computer class has a tendency to just repeat things they remember from previous classes, regardless of whether or not their answers actually make any sense. Our class has pretty much focused on three things to date: the proper use of Google, Wikipedia, and capital letters. A few examples, translated from Spanish:

"So, who can tell me what Google does?"

"Press the shift key at the same time as a letter?"

"OK, what is Google?"

"Wikipedia."

"When do we need to use a capital letter?"

"Google."

Sigh!

It seems like I spend too much time on this blog talking about "development" and "poverty" on this blog. Whatever, that stuff is boringgg.

So here's a story from this class this morning. I was co-teaching a class of rambunctious 9-to-11-year-old kids. And Dominican ideas about classroom management are different from American ideas about classroom management, so basically Dominican kids tend not to learn about things like "raise your hand," "line up," "don't yell," "don't yell the teacher's name while she's talking to another student right next to you," and "seriously stop yelling at me." Thus, at DREAM we spend a lot of time trying to get the kids to settle down so we can maybe, like, teach something?

This morning, I decided to try a little yoga. I taught the kids a few basic poses like mountain pose (basically just standing still), tree pose (standing with one foot on your knee and your hands touching over your head), and a modified version of warrior II pose (standing with feet far apart and arms stretched out to the side).

And then I learned that my Spanish has progressed to the point where I can do some BS meditation guidance-type stuff. ("Close your eyes... we're in a forest... we can feel the warm sun on our skins, helping us grow... helping us grow to be tall, strong, trees... we are quiet and peaceful...")

It was moderately successful, although I had to banish little David to the back corner of the forest because "It is QUIET in the forest! No one in the forest should be talking!" After class, all the kids lined up and were starting to get a little restless as we waited for the next classroom to be ready. I started asking them to do yoga poses in line. Mountain and tree were fine, but when I asked for fake warrior pose, there was trouble. One of the first few kids in line somehow fell over backwards and knocked over the entire line of warrior-ing children, like little yoga dominos. No one was hurt; everyone was delighted. It was probably their favorite part of yoga class.

FACT: this entry would be better if I had a photo--or better, a video-- of children falling down.

FACT: it's an imperfect world.

I just posted a day in my life in photos! Check it out, if you are so inclined.

Oh, hello there! I haven’t been blogging much of late. I suppose since I’ve gotten Internet in my apartment, I’ve been updating Facebook and the like much more often. Mainly I have been up to The Usual: teaching classes, hanging out at the beach, and keeping up with the demands of the cutest and most ferocious kitten on the North Coast.

This weekend was a little more eventful, though! On Friday, we had the day off at DREAM. I spent the morning giving a workshop to some Dominican pre-school teachers who got some subsidized laptops. Most of them had very little experience with computers and were sooo excited to get laptops. I was nearly as excited to have the afternoon off and visit friends at their friend’s swank condo. They had fast Internet and cable TV, so we spent nine hours watching the Olympics and reading Wikipedia articles about winter Olympic events. Curling raised many questions, all of which we were happily able to answer, thanks to the power of the Internet. By the end of the women's curling gold medal match, we were all rooting for Canada, half in-love with Canada's skip, and tossing around curling lingo like we were actually Canadian. ("Wow, I thought she was going to burn that stone, but it's in the house!")

Saturday--February 27--marked the DR's Independence Day! We made a day trip down to La Vega to celebrate in style at the country's largest Carnaval. I wrote about this in more detail last year, but it was fun to see all the elaborate costumes. Less fun: constant fear of getting hit in the butt. I only got one hard hit and few playful taps, but still: ouch! On the way home, we stopped at Kentucky Fried Chicken in Santiago and I made an excellent discovery: Dominican KFC has biscuits! Legit biscuits! I haven't eaten a biscuit in months and months, and it was delicious.

Sunday morning I got up and went surfing with a few friends, but the waves were too big and crowded with real surfers for the likes of me, and I got out after about 45 minutes. I am pretty sure that I have maintained the exact same skill level (extremely low) since I started surfing in August. Whatever. I'm definitely not going pro any time soon, but it's still fun. And something I definitely won't be able to do once I return to the landlocked states, so I need to aprovecharlo (take advantage of it)!

MySpace-Countdown-Clocks

75 days, apparently. 75 days left in the DR. I'm sure when I get back to the US and start transitioning, there will be things that I miss about being here. Certainly I'll miss all my Peace Corps and DREAM friends. I'll miss being so close to the beach. I'll miss egg empanadas.

But mainly, I'm ready to get home. What I miss most isn't material things--although there are plenty of those that I do miss, like hot water, a non-flood prone living space, and paved streets/sidewalks--it's just American culture. I'm not going to make a case that American culture is better than Dominican culture. But I'm used to American culture. For example, if many people are waiting for a service, such as asking for goods from behind the counter in a small store, who should get that service first? If you said, "the person who was there first," you are probably American. Or European. If you said, "the person who is loudest," you are probably Dominican.

If there's a dog in the neighborhood that you don't like, what should you do? If you answered "confront the dog's owner" or "call Animal Control," you are probably American. If you answered, "put out poisoned meat," you are probably Dominican. (Now, if you are Dominican, you definitely do not have an Animal Control line to call. And if you are a Dominican whose dog is accidentally killed by some poisoned meat, you are probably not too worked up about it--you probably thought of your dog as a security measure, not as a beloved family pet. But this is one of the reasons Duartecat isn't allowed outside.)

And I guess the benefit of two years here in the DR is that I really do understand where Dominicans are coming from, and I'm not like, "God, Dominicans KILL THEIR PETS." I mean, Americans have semi-arbitrarily chosen a few animals, like cats and dogs, that are "pets" and are taken care of, while others, arguably about as cute, like sheep and chickens, are kept in gross factory farms and eaten. But I still am American, and I'm looking forward to getting home and waiting in line for things, letting Duarte outside, and letting myself outside in a tank top without hearing every passing male's thoughts on the subject (which, granted, are invariably favorable).

Soon enough I'm sure I'll be complaining about how people in America are overly litigious and obsessed with their lawns, but for now, I'm pretty happy to get back to the devil I know.

So, lately I've been really excited about leaving the DR. Granted, I've been here over two years; it's fair that I'm ready to go home. But still, I have three months left and I want to take some time to focus on the positives. There must be some things I will miss, right?

Yes there are, and here is one of them:

Mmm! Egg empanadas! Empanadas are awesome little fried things sold on the street for around 15 pesos (about 50 cents). They come with a variety of fillings, but the best kind is egg.

They are very best when they are fresh out of the oil. Some places will sell cold empanadas. These are acceptable for eating, but nothing compared to the warm crispiness of a freshly fried empanada.

Dominicans: maybe not the best at getting along with their neighbors, but excellent at frying things.

I was running a little late for work this morning, like usual. I turned the corner to get to our side entrance--our front door is blocked off because we're constructing an extension to the building. I turned the corner and saw most of the other volunteers in a little gaggle outside the door. "Whew," I thought. "I must not be that late." They were talking to a couple Dominican men I didn't know. It turns out that someone hung themselves behind the community center I work at. When I found out, I said, "Wow, how sad!" And the random Dominican man said, "No, it's okay! He was Haitian! He left!" and made a "get out" hand gesture.

Needless to say, he was a little confused about why we were still upset, even though he was Haitian.

Later, in my computer class, I had the kids look at this page of photos after the Haiti earthquake and choose one, and then write a description of the photo and how the photo made them feel. One student chose a picture of some men digging out a building. The English caption said, "Residents search for victims after an earthquake in Port-au-Prince January 13, 2010." But of course the kids can't read English, so this kid wrote that it was "Dominicans helping Haitians out of a building." I asked him how he knew they were Dominicans. He gave me a "Well, DUH" face and said, "Look at them!" I gave him a little lecture about how not all Haitians look the same, and neither do all Dominicans, and Haitians work hard, blah blah blah.

I think I have more to say on the topic, but I am tired.

No es fácil, no.

Oh, hello there! I'm back from a pretty exciting week in Santo Domingo. Wednesday through Thursday we had our COS (close of service) conference. This was exciting for several reasons: we got to stay at a nice hotel with hot water and buffets, all the members of my COS group got to hang out, and it meant that we're ALMOST DONE! The COS conference is three days designed to prepare us for returning to the US, which we can do on May 7th! We talked about resumes and interview techniques, we learned about our health insurance plan, and we took some rad group photos. Here is the COSing group of IT volunteers, minus Keane, who got tuberculosis and couldn't come. (Like that's a good excuse.)

By the way, yes, it was incredibly nervewracking to hold my laptop that close to the pool. You can see I have one hand lamely curled around it.

Some environment volunteers are COSing too, but who even cares about them?

Anyway, I am getting excited about leaving! The past two years have been a rollercoaster, and I'm definitely glad I did Peace Corps. But I'm also looking forward to first world conveniences, speaking English, not being stared at all the time, not worrying about people killing my cat all the time, and eating delicious, delicious American food. Ohh, yes. America.

After the COS conference--which ended up being somewhat of a plague zone, and most of us left with either a cold (I did) or food poisoning (I did not, gracias a Dios)--we all stayed around the capital for the weekend, because Stephanie got married on Saturday!!

She kissed her new husband!

We toasted her!

Hoorays all around! There are more photos at my Flickr, featuring many PCVs looking suspiciously well-dressed.

My social calendar this week has been fuera de control! Everyone in Cabarete has been scrambling to do what we can to help out in Haiti. It seems that everything there is still too disorganized for more volunteers to be of much help (especially non-Creole speaking, non-medical professional ones), so we've been focusing on fundraising efforts. Here in Cabarete there are enough tourists and expats that there are plenty of funds to be tapped, unlike in a lot of Peace Corps sites.

DREAM held two events. We had a pulga (flea market) here in the barrio--a bunch of people donated used clothing to us, which we sold to the residents of the Callejon. They got cheap clothing, we raised 25,000 pesos for Haitian relief. I myself spent $400 pesos on a new wallet, purse, and T-shirt. Everyone wins!

We also had a fancier event downtown, aimed at tourists & expats. We sold art made by the students, as well as a lot of jewelry donated by local businesses. There we made $40,000 pesos. Wow! (To put this in perspective--my entire monthly salary is $13,000 pesos.) In total we raised over $5000 US.

Remember my T-shirt tote bags? Here are some, after being decorated by the kids.

Here's some of the donated jewelry. I ended up buying the white button necklace.

Me and Lindsey, both wearing hot pink and posing in front of the donated higüero lanterns. Also, I'm wearing my new button necklace!

We also had a groundbreaking ceremony at DREAM. We got funding to build a few new classrooms for our center, hooray! And Celines Toribio, a Dominican actress/model, came to be our celebrity guest. She was really fun with the kids and, claro, extremely pretty. (I didn't bring my camera that day, alas.)

On Sunday evening, a few friends organized a FUNraiser (get it... because it's fun) at a local bar. There was a silent auction, and all of us DREAM volunteers made out like bandits! I spent $600 pesos on $1000 pesos worth of gift certificates at the two restaurants we always eat at. Hooray! Plus, I'm helping Haiti. I am a hero! A hero entitled to $1000 pesos worth of pizza and mojitos! This is the best kind of hero to be.

DREAM is having an art show/fundraiser for the Red Cross next week! One thing we're planning to sell are these awesome tote bags made out of old T-shirts! We're planning to get kids to decorate them, but let me show you some of the plain ones I made this afternoon. It's soo easy, you don't even have to sew!

Step one, get a box. I mean, a T-shirt. And turn it inside-out.

Step two, cut the sleeves off of it, one inch-ish in from the seams. (If you do this a lot of times with crappy scissors, you will get a blister on your thumb. If you are lucky, you will have a Hello Kitty Band-Aid to put over it.)

Step three, cut out the neck. Basically make it a sexy tank top.

Step four, cut some awesome 80s-style fringe in the bottom. About a half-inch wide, two inches long, all the way across.

Step five, tie all the fringes together with double knots.

Step six, turn it rightside-out and oh my God you made a bag!!

Step seven, try to put your cat in the bag.

Hooray!!

By now, I'm sure you have all read about the situation in Haiti. It's pretty grim. The earthquake would have been bad anywhere, of course, but in Haiti? In Port-au-Prince? Yikes. It pretty much destroyed all the infrastructure in a country that had barely any to start out with. People here are trying to mobilize. DREAM is having a few fundraiser events, and we're donating some of our own stuff (that others had previously donated to us).

Aside from being worried about Haiti, we've all been a little down here since it's been raining constantly for two weeks now. My street is a river, my apartment floods when it rains too hard, all my clothing is mud-spattered, and things are molding. Things that I did not even think could mold are molding. Of course, as annoying as all this is, I know I'm lucky to have a roof over my head. A twist of geographic luck and that earthquake could have been in Santo Domingo, not Port-au-Prince.

I'm sure you have heard this before, but truly, if you have any money to donate to Red Cross or Partners in Health or Oxfam or any relief charity, please do. It will help Duarte rest easier. He is very concerned about Haitian cats.

(Okay... he's not really. He's pretty oblivious. But you're not, right?)

Yikes! I was just sitting here in my apartment, minding my own business after a long day of DREAMing, when suddenly everthing started shaking. Duarte was frolicking around the bed and at first I thought maybe he was jumping too much and shaking the bed. Then I realized that even though Duarte has gotten fatter, he's still not big enough to do that kind of damage. Since I am sooo fancy and have Internet in my apartment now, I got on Twitter and joked about how maybe my apartment was collapsing. Then I felt dizzy and decided to eat some fruit snacks. I felt better and thought I had solved the problem! Then I read Rainn Wilson's (aka Dwight Schrute on The Office) Twitter where he said "Just heard there was a terrible earthquake in Haiti. Please send some prayers that way - they need a LOT of help."

Then I realized that it wasn't just my need for fruit snacks, and started Googling. CNN had nothing on it until like ten minutes after Rainn Wilson's Twitter. A few of my fellow IT volunteers updated their Facebooks with blurbs about the earthquake. Finally, CNN posted a 2-sentence story, which included the phrase "tsunami watch." Then I spent awhile Googling "tsunami" and freaking myself out. (Don't worry! It does not seem I am in any real tsunami danger here on the North Coast. However, in general please DO worry about tsunamis because they are terrible!!)

Anyway, in summation: I'm fine, the Internet is crazy, and you should maybe donate some money to the Red Cross because they are going to need it in Haiti. (More than they already did.)

Oh gosh! Happy new year! I have not blogged in a little while, because I have been too busy working to fight global poverty.

Just kidding, mainly I've been hanging out with Duarte and watching episodes of 30 Rock on my laptop. Global poverty can suck it. Uh... what I mean to say is, classes are starting soon again at the DREAM Center, at which point I will once again do my part to right global wrongs by teaching children how to blog.

Anyway, in addition to hanging out with my grumpy kitten I have had a few other exciting moments. My friend Justin came back from vacation on the 29th, and a group of us with nothing else to do (and deep love for Justin in our hearts) made big posters and went to greet him at the airport. Dominicans were curious about who we might be waiting for. One guy told us he "already saw a white guy leave." We assured him that we weren't waiting for a white guy, but rather a Chinese one. (Dominicans tend to refer to all Asian people as "Chinese," which Asian volunteers can either get really depressed about or find it hilarious. Justin, a Filipino, generally opts for the latter.)

Justin, Jen, Karina, and Steph showing off their posters.

We were, in fact, dazzled.

In addition to gracing us with his company, Justin also brought me back some Christmas presents from my mom! Most exciting of these were organic macaroni & cheese and a new digital camera!! It is a Canon PowerShot SD1200IS, whatever that means, and I really like it! It is very small and it takes pictures quickly. This is important, because with my old camera I could pretty much only take pictures of Duarte when he was sleeping. With this technological advancement, please expect up to 75% more photos of Duarte.

Here's one right now! This was at my friend Judith's apartment, where Duarte stayed during Christmas.

For New Year's Eve, volunteers traditionally come to Cabarete to party. Although I party in Cabarete every day, it is exciting to have visitors!

Here is a picture of me, Jen, and Karina. Party hats are involved to verify that it is, in fact, New Year's Eve.

I made two New Year's resolutions. One was to leave the DR without hating it (not that I hate it now, but I do have a little bit of an attitude problem that I want to keep in check). The other one was... uh... I forgot. Keeping my attitude in check is the biggest one, I suppose. Cheers to a new decade!

I hope everyone had a delightful Christmas! Mine was very nice, although it got off to a rough start. It was raining really hard in the days up to Christmas, so my apartment kept flooding. We coped, however--I kept mopping, and Duarte learned how to wait on the bed until I got up, and then to jump onto my hips to get rides across the apartment so he didn´t have to get his little feet wet. He is the smartest, cutest kitty ever! Objectively speaking. Then on the 23rd, I went to drop Duarte off at my friend Judith´s house while I went on a Christmas excursion. I had a backpack and a giant totebag, plus Duarte´s cat carrier. I got on the back of a motorcycle taxi, since it was a little far to walk. Plus, it was raining. I´m fairly comfortable on motorcycles, but with my enormous bag in between me and the moto guy, every time we went up a hill I was pretty sure I was going to fall off the bag and die. Plus, about halfway there, Duarte figured out how to stick his head out of a tiny gap in the cat carrier and I became terrified that he would leap off the moto, so I had to use one hand to try to shove Duarte back in the bag and the other to cling to the moto guy´s shoulder AND try to hold my big tote bag. Also, did I mention that I didn´t really know how to get to Judith´s apartment? I had some super vague directions and assumed that we could get to the neighborhood and just ask around, but since it was raining, no one was out on the street to ask. So we circled around for a ridiculously long and terrifying time. But, in a Christmas miracle, we found Judith´s place and all arrived intact. Hooray!

Free of my clever escape artist kitten, I went onto Santiago to meet with my friends Jen and Karina. We spent $3000 pesos (about $100 US--goes far in the DR) on groceries and went back to prepare a fabulous Christmas dinner! Actually we just ate Chex Mix that day. Christmas eve, we went over to Karina´s neighbor´s for a Dominican celebration, which included some of the fanciest of Dominican foods arranged in a pleasing salad: cut up apples, marshmellows, grapes, whole nuts, and candy fruit slices. Another Christmas eve highlight was me trying to avoid her neighbor´s son, who dated the last Peace Corps volunteer who lived here. He told me, "You remind me of {the last volunteer}... I like bigger girls." It was awesome.

Christmas Day we woke up and had some classy beverages--mimosas AND coffee with Bailey's! (Don't judge us, we´re spending Christmas in another country.) Our friends Jenna, Chris, Joel, and Brittany decided to come at the last minute, which was exciting! But also we had to figure out how to double the amount of food we were making. Which we did, and we had the following awesome dinner:

Deviled eggs

Hummus with carrot sticks

Latkes

Mashed potatoes

Sweet potato casserole

Green bean casserole

Sadly, during the last course I got a migraine and had to go lie down. But I still wanted to hang out, so I just curled up on the couch with a pillow over my face and occasionally yelled out borderline-delirious comments. I recall being very worked up Britney Spears' latest song "3". (My stance, then and now, is that it is an awesome song and Britney is so comnig back.) Also, since I had the pillow over my face, I had no idea where anyone was and got kind of confused. Oh well!

Anyway, even though I missed my family and American friends (and Duarte), it was still a great Christmas. Now I'm getting ready to head back to Cabarete with Jen for some beach time... I mean, there are perks to a Dominican Christmas.

Greetings, my fellow Americans, Dominicans, and other citizens of the world. I have come to this blog today to discuss a very important topic: the state of my kitten, Duarte.

Health and Hygiene:

Duarte has been de-wormed by the nice vet in Sosua. His fur is growing back, and he has a lot of energy. Sooo much energy. He is also using the litterbox with high levels of accuracy, although sometimes there are still accidents, often tragically involving my comforter.

Cuteness:

Cuteness levels are extremely high, rising to dangerous levels when he tilts his head at me. He often seems to have a disapproving look on his face, which is ADORABLE.

Rest and Recreation:

Duarte likes to sleep on top of me, even when I sleep on my side. This is also ADORABLE. Duarte also likes to wake up every few hours and and seek attention, which is slightly less adorable.

Athletics:

Duarte has proven himself to be a top contender in all internationally-recognized kitten sports, including the high jump, the pounce, the 5-inch string chase, hide and seek, and the bedsheet climb.

Controversial Issues:

The Renata-Duarte household is extremely divided on a few key issues. For example, the game “Bite Renata in the Face While She is Sleeping” is beloved by 50% of the population, but despised by the other 50% (margin of error +/- 3%). Another divisive topic is that of canned cat food. Again, 50% of the household finds it to be amazingly delicious, while the other half believes to to be “fucking disgusting” and “make[s] the whole house smell bad.”

So, as I may have mentioned, I've been a little stressed out the last few weeks. My attitude might perhaps have been best described as "over it." But things have been improving the last few days, and on Wednesday night, all the DREAM volunteers went out to dinner with a visiting Christian basketball team here to do basketball-themed charity. I was eye-rolling a bit about the entire concept of Christian basketball-themed charity (they are donating a bunch of basketballs and stuff to local kids and also leading free basketball clinics/games at some local courts, in case you are wondering what exactly "basketball-themed charity" consists of), and, I'll admit it, I inwardly eye-rolled a bit when one of the high school boys stood up to say grace.

But he said, "Thank you for the opportunity to be here and to serve," and it really clicked with me. Yes. This is an opportunity. Thank you for it, whoever is responsible for it. Thank you, Peace Corps bureaucrat who put me here. Thank you, parents who occasionally send me money to buy fancy condiments with. Thank you, Peace Corps friends who keep me sane via free cell phone calls. Thank you, DREAM, for giving me a place to teach kids. Thank you, high school boy, for your super trite yet super true words.

Whew! My mom's trip ended happily, although she enjoyed her Dominican car wreck so much that she got into another one within her first week back. Ay. She survived, albeit with a few broken bones, so if you could direct some prayers/healing vibes her way, they would be appreciated.

I've been back to the grind at DREAM, which has involved a little bit of inter-NGO tension that I don't even want to talk about, but my stress levels have risen to the point where more hair than usual is coming out in my hair brush. Luckily, winter break is approaching, so I should be able to maintain the majority of my stylish tresses. Plus, I just read in Cosmo that center parts are coming back into style, which I did not even know they were out of style, so anyway I should be good to go.

The brightest spot here has been my afterschool blog club, which has been really taking off. I've (somewhat awkwardly) translated all the entries, so even the most gringo among you can check out our Blog de Sueños (Dream Blog). The kids are getting into it, especially the photography. However, when pressed to "Write more details!" they usually just tack on another sentence saying exactly the same thing as the first sentence, leading to some awesomely circular logic, e.g. "I took this picture because I like the car races and because I know how to drive vehicles because my father taught me how to drive but without him, I would not know how to drive vehicles." Also of note: this photo, in which I am inadvertently making some kind of pin-up girl pose in the background. (This kid took ten different pictures of the garden, including ones in which I was posing nicely and ones in which I was not at all visible, but he chose that one to post. Sigh.)

Anyway, tomorrow is our last day of blog class before Christmas break. We're going to have a party and blog about our favorite foods! Mmm. (Class favorite foods tally as of yesterday: plaintains, 2; soda, 2; chips, 1; cookies, 1; undecided, 3.)

PS: I would like to say that it is never, ever too late to send your favorite Peace Corps volunteer a letter or care package! My address here is

451 Avenida Bolivar

Apartado Postal 1412

Santo Domingo

Dominican Republic

And I will happily receive just about anything, but especially: vegetarian boxed dinners (like Tasty Bite or Annie's pasta), dried fruit (I have a lot of nuts, I'd rather have just fruit), and pretty much any American candy. Or British candy. I'm not picky, as long as it's not gross, sticky, too-sugary Dominican candy.

I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving! The Peace Corps party was great, but I got some kind of 24-hour bug and threw up all my vegetarian stuffing. And all four kinds of pie. Ughhhh. But mustn't dwell!

Instead let us turn our attention to post-Thanksgiving travels. Mom, Duarte (we renamed the kitten Duarte since all the volunteers kept accidentally calling him that anyway--Juan Pablo Duarte was one of the founding fathers of the DR and absolutely everything here is named after him. Including my cat), Karina, Jen, Jenna and I headed down southwest to a little artisan workshop where you can pick your own piece of larimar (a semiprecious stone found only in the DR) and turn it into jewelry. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived on Saturday, they were closed, so there was nothing to do but head further up the mountain to a beautiful hotel/restaurant called Casa Bonita.

We got some food and drinks and enjoyed the view.

The sun set, and we continued to enjoy the view.

Here's a picture of my mom hard at work on her larimar.

Here's my finished product! It's... not that impressive, but I made it. With a liiittle help from some Dominican artisans. And also geology.

Here's Baby Duarte looking super mad. And adorable.

Now my mom is at the Puerto Plata International Airport, soon to be heading back to Nueva Yol (aka Illinois). At least I'll have baby Duarte to keep me company... and look! Look how totally non-malnourished he is now. Fatty little Duarte.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Let's be honest, the holiday season tends to inspire a lot of lame, cliche-y blog entries. And why should I be any different? What, do I think I'm better than everyone? So, here are some things I am thankful for.

My family! (Awww.) I'm especially glad my mom could come visit again. I am also thankful that she brought down an entire suitcase of candy.

Baby Cat--who, surprise, is a boy. And it turns out I'm unwilling to name him Billy Ray, so right now we're going with Dante. He has a little goatee!! Just like Dante from Clerks.

(You can't really see his goatee in any of the pictures I have of him so far. But he has a little patch of white just on his chin. So cute!)

Maru, who brings so much joy to my life with every awkwardly-phrased update.

My site change! Although my job is a little bit stressful, I love my great co-workers. And I love living a 15-minute walk away from the beach, even if it does get invested with giant turkeys around this time of year.

The fact that I still haven't drowned or been eaten by sharks while surfing!! I don't want to jinx it though :/

The Internet! I am so thankful that I can keep in touch with all my lovely friends and family so easily thanks to emails, blogs, Facebook, Skype, and the like. Hooray!

Friends! Of course, the Internet wouldn't be that fun if I didn't have all of you guys to keep in touch with in the first place.

ZooBorns. It's a website of all baby zoo animals!! LOOK HOW LITTLE THESE TURTLES ARE. BE THANKFUL YOU GOT TO SEE THAT.

Three nights in the Santo Domingo Marriott! You guys, there is air conditioning and hot water and the room is bigger than my whole apartment!!

So, happy Thanksgiving to you all! I hope you all have as many things to be thankful for as I do.

"Mom, if you tell everyone that the best part of your vacation was getting in a car crash, everyone's going to think your trip sucked."

"What? No one got hurt, and it was interesting!"

Interesting, indeed. On Friday my mom and I ventured out in our tiny rental car, heading west to Dajabon for the market day. We picked up my friend Mica and two girls from her town--Mica was taking the girls to the dentist in Santiago, which was basically on our way. Driving in the DR is crazy--there are motorcycles zooming in and out everywhere, a frequent lack of taillights/headlights, barely-paved roads, and a general disregard for traffic laws. But mom assured me she was up to the challenge, and the trip had been going pretty smoothly so far. So, of course, a giant truck with no taillights stopped abruptly and Mom gently rear-ended him. The truck just drove off as if nothing had happened; we're not even sure if the truck realized it was in an accident.

So: right after the impact, the two girls in the backseat are screaming, Mica is trying to console them in Spanish, I'm trying to find my glasses, the kitten is crying, Mom is crying, and like six Dominican police officers are tapping on our windows. It was hectic.

Honestly, the whole thing went fairly smoothly. I have no idea why there were so many police officers just hanging out at that intersection, but they were. I think before yesterday I have maybe seen six police officers during my entire time in the DR. Weird, but helpful. They ushered us out of the car, pushed the car into a nearby parking lot, and got a ride to take Mica and her girls to the dentist all in about ten minutes. Meanwhile, my mom consoled the kitten (still unnamed, but our faithful travelling companion) and I called the car rental company, called the Peace Corps doctor, and argued with the police officers. They wanted Mom to go to the hospital; she didn't want to go. Finally we convinced her that she should go to the hospital. Then the police wanted her to go to the public hospital; I said no. They told me that if we wanted to go to the private hospital they wouldn't help us, we'd have to take a taxi to get there. I said fine.

So, we took a taxi to the hospital. We're carrying five large bags and one tiny kitten, and both of us are bleeding. The receptionist tells me that the kitten can't come in the emergency room. Understandable I suppose, but what are we going to do with the kitten? We don't have any kind of carrier for it yet, we've just been keeping it on my lap in the car. It is finally settled that I will wait in the waiting room with the kitten while Mom gets stitches done by an English-speaking doctor. While I wait, a police officer asks me questions about the accident/hits on me. I call a friend to chat so I have an excuse not to talk to the police officer anymore.

Here is perhaps the most startling part of the whole day: Mom got 10 stitches and IV and local anesthetic in less than an hour! And it cost about US$100! So fast and cheap! Ridiculous. And then our car rental company (Budget! Big ups to them) sent over a driver and a new rental car right away. I started thinking crazy thoughts like, "Wow! Maybe we can still make it out to Dajabon today!"

Ha!

Anyway, the new driver took us over to the police station. We had to wait a long time, still holding the crying kitten. I managed to get some yogurt from the police cafeteria, which we gave to kitty via eyedropper. Finally, I got to talk to a police officer and describe the accident to him. He told us we had to go to the hospital. "Oh," I said, "We just came from the hospital. We're fine."

"No," he said, "You're both injured. You have to go to the hospital and have them fill out this form saying how injured you are."

"But I only have a minor cut, and my mom already received treatment. I don't understand why you need this form filled out."

"Yes... many people do not understand why this form needs to be filled out. But these are the rules." I spent a few more minutes engaged in a Kafka-esque debate, but finally conceded to be taken to the public hospital. Sadly, we arrived around lunchtime and all of the doctors were gone, so we waited about an hour for the doctors to come back. Then we waited another hour while all the people who got there before us got to see the doctor. Then we saw the doctor, who gave us each a cursory glance and spent about thirty seconds filling out a form that said, in essence, "Cut lip" and "cut elbow."

We then went back to the police station, where I had to re-explain everything to an extremely fast-talking, mumble-y officer. (Do you know Boomhauer from King of the Hill? This was basically the Dominican equivalent.) So I kept telling him, "I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING" and finally another police officer translated for me, from Spanish to Spanish.... he just repeated everything Dominican Boomhauer was saying and I understood. Sadly, what I understood was that we were being sent to the Traffic Justice of the Peace. So we drove across town, waited in line, handed over some forms, got a stamp on the forms, got the forms back, and drove back to the police station. Like, seriously? You guys couldn't just keep one of those stamps at the police station?

Anyway, then we were free! Free... to go to the Budget Rent-a-Car office and finalize our change of car!

And then free to check into a hotel in Santiago and die of exhaustion! And also eat pizza. And also to promptly return our new car to Budget because the brakes were fussy and we were fearful of a repeat incident.

By the way, it is important that when you read this entry and envision our trials, you NEVER FORGET that the entire day has a soundtrack of "MEW! MEW! MEW! MRAAAWR!" from a grumpy, hungry little kitten. Not that I blame the little guy.

(PS pictures of Baby Cat soon, I promise! Also soon we will take her or him back to the vet and find out the sex for sure, and then I can officially name Baby Cat something besides Baby Cat.)

More like, what haven't I been up to!

The weekend before last, my friend Trina stayed with me!

We went to the Cabarete Jazz Festival and saw some festive jazz.

Then we went up a mountain to a restaurant/retreat center called Blue Moon to celebrate Jenna's birthday!

We enjoyed the mountaintop view.

And the pool.

And of course, the highlight: Indian food served off of banana leaves. Mmmm.

After that, I went to the annual IT youth conference. All the IT Peace Corps volunteers (well, almost all) came with a few kids from their town for three days of workshops, games, and ridiculousness. I brought two girls from my center, one of whom had never ridden a bus before and threw up the entire two hour trip. But she felt better once she got there, and I'm really glad I was able to give her that opportunity. (Even if when, the next week I asked her to write a paragraph about what she learned at the conference, she claimed not to remember anything that she learned.)

The second night we had a big carnival. My friend Ruth and I were in charge of the cakewalk, which was awesome.

The kids had a great time, and so did the volunteers...

And, most importantly, we all received certificates of participation.

After the conference, I had to scurry back, drop off my girls, and go meet my mom! Yay! We spent the weekend at a posh resort in Sosua. I referred to our activites as "snake-ing"--"We just eat a lot, then go sleep in the sun and digest it, then slither back to the buffet for the next meal." It was pretty great. I didn't even touch the water all weekend. (The water was really rough so the resort closed the ocean. Yes. They closed the ocean. With yellow caution tape. I wish I had a photo, but they are all on mom's camera.)

This week, I've been working at ~*DREAM*~ and mom had been keeping herself occupied with shopping during. (Those of you who know my mom will not be worried that she is bored. My mom could probably spend a month shopping in Cabarete without getting bored.) Yesterday, mmom got a new project--I found a tiny baby kitten on the street. It was clearly in rough shape, so I picked it up and took it to work with me. I kept it on a towel outside and gave it some milk. Mom saw it when she came to pick me up for lunch and she decided to take it to the vet. The vet said it was extremely malnourished, and mom has been feeding Baby Cat a special formual via eyedropper the last few days. Baby Cat is very very small and cute, but she (or he--it's too small for even the vet to tell sex yet) has a propensity to poop on me. Like ten times she has pooped on me, and never on mom.

This morning I went to have breakfast with some embassy officials (who were going on a little tour of the North Coast and wanted to meet some PCVs) and Baby Cat pooped on my khakis just as I was heading out the door. However, I did not notice that Baby Cat had also pooped on my shirt until I got to breakfast. I pretended like I had spilled syrup on myself. I hope they bought my story!! Even if they didn't, they still bought me a delicious breakfast, so, score.

So. One of the more frustrating types of conversations I have here in the DR are ones where someone tells me something in Spanish, and I understand it all except ONE WORD. I ask them to repeat the word or define the word. Instead, they bring over someone who "speaks English" to explain it to me because I "don't speak Spanish." Except this person just repeats the same word to me. Right now, for instance, I'm sitting here monitoring the computer lab. Occasionally people ask me questions about how to use the Internet or try to trick me into doing their homework for them.

A young man walks up to me, hands me a pencil and piece of paper upon which is written, "September 11, 2001. Osama Bin Laden." He says, "Escribame Ocho Center." (Write for me "Ocho Center".)

I say, "Ocho Center?"

"Ocho center."

"What is Ocho Center?"

"You know... Ocho Center. Osama Bin Laden... it's like the White House."

"The White House?"

"But instead of the White House, it's Ocho Center. Osama bin Laden lived there."

"Ocho Center."

"Ohhh, you don't understand. Let me get my friend."

So the friend comes over and says, in English, "He wants for you to write down the words 'Ocho Center.'"

By this point I am losing it and cracking up, and my friend Rachel comes in.

Me: "Rachel! I don't know what they are talking about. They want me to write something about Ocho Center. He's got this paper... it's something to do with Osama bin Laden I think."

Rachel: "What's Ocho Center?"

Two Dudes: "Ocho Center!! Exactly!! Renata doesn't understand Ocho Center and we want you to write it down!"

Rachel: I don't know what Ocho Center is either.

Dude 1: Osama bin Laden!

Dude 2: It's like the White House.

Rachel: You want me to write down White House?

Dude 1: NO! OCHO CENTER.

Rachel: ... Barack Obama?

Dude 2: It's the building that was destroyed on September 11. In New York.

Me and Rachel: ....

Rachel: The WORLD TRADE Center?

Dudes: Yes! Ocho Center! How do you spell it?

Oh my God. I was hyperventilating with laughter by the end of it.

(Also, yes, in retrospect, given "September 11" and "Osama bin Laden" and "Something Center" you'd think I would have been able to come up with "World Trade Center." But it was just bizarre. Also, the White House stuff kept throwing me off.)

I just uploaded some photos from this weekend. It's been a good few days--between Halloween and my friend Kathy's birthday, there were a lot of volunteers in the capital. Here are a few pictures from Halloweeen--which, for the record, Dominicans don't dress up for, so when we went out on the town, we got a ton of weird looks. More than the weird looks we usually get just for being a large group of white people.

Jeff (Frog Prince), me (I went as the Peace Corps lounge Lost & Found), and Justin (Karate Kid) having a prop battle.

More detail on my ridic contest.

The 80s girls!

Fun group shot.

The Dominican accent tends to drop a lot of "s"s, and since I am speaking Spanish primarily with Dominicans, I've started losing my "s"s too. For example, "adio" instead of "adios," or "no e' facil" instead of "no es facil." But today I heard myself tell another volunteer "no vemos!" instead of "nos vemos!"

For those of you rusty on Spanish, "Nos vemos" is literally "we see each other" but commonly used as "see you later."

"No vemos" is "we don't see each other" or, I guess, "I won't see you later."

Cultural intergration is one of Peace Corps's primary goals, but still, maybe I should work on keeping my Dominican accent in check, just un chin.

So, I've been in the capital all week working on the PCDR magazine, the Gringo Grita. (We all know what "gringo" means; "grita" means "yelling.") I'm serving as editor this time, which basically means it's my job to stay around until the whole thing is finished. As always, it's been a super fun (but tiring) week.

A few highlights:

Pretty Much Everyone Who Passed Through the Office Ever: RENATA! Did you know that the Jonas Brothers are coming to Santo Domingo?? Are you going to go??

Me (sulkily): Noo, I'm not going, it costs 1700 pesos.

Justin: We should have a fundraiser! I would put in 200 pesos for you to see the Jonas Brothers.

Me: Aww, that's sweet. But ridiculous.

Joel: Look! A Jonas Brothers poster!

Me: Are they on the MOON?

Joel: It says "world tour," not "intergalactic tour."

Chris: Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young are like the Simon and Garfunkel of folk-rock.

Me: Aren't Simon and Garfunkel the Simon and Garfunkel of folk-rock?

Chris: ... point.

Me: Let's read this out loud. In Batman voice.*

Me: Remember that time when we read everything out loud in Batman voice? (In Batman voice) It was EPIC.

* Christian Bale Batman voice, which is super gravelly and low. It makes anything funnier!

Also, there was the time when we went out to a hipster bar that has the video game Rock Band on Tuesdays. We were really excited about it, but most of us hadn't played it before. This was in stark contrast to the small crowd of Dominicans who clearly go there every week and were all beating songs on Expert level. We went up and failed Oasis's "Wonderwall" on Easy. Twice. (I was on vocals! I failed out first! Both times!) But hey, we had a good time. We played (and passed) a few more songs later in the night. However, our best time was probably had when a group of Dominicans went up to perform "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey. We got super into it and sang it more loudly than their actual vocalist. Unforunately, these were the only Dominicans we saw fail a song all night.

Me: PUT IT ON EASY! MAS FACIL! MAS FACIL!

Joel: Don't stop! Don't stop believin'!

Me and Joel: DON'T STOP DON'T STOP BELIEVIN'!!

Our Rock Band night also inspired our themed Grita staff photo. We decided to pose as a band called Gringo and the Gritas. We are all extremely excited/angsty/angry about our band photo shoot. I hope that you think this picture is as hilarious as we think it is. We are all kind of obsessed with it.

I'm in the capital this week working on our esteemed volunteer publication the Gringo Grita. We hole up in the library most of the day, editing and laying out and slowly going crazy. Then at night we go out to dinner and hang out with whoever happens to be in the capital. It's a fun way to meet new people. Last night, my friend Jen and I ate some fried rice with a Water volunteer named Bill. Water volunteers in the DR are known for being the most hardcore of all volunteers--they usually live in the most remote sites and are working to build aqueducts, so they lack running water and electricity. (Compare this to my studio apartment with a water tank and air conditioning.) Here are a few excerpts from our conversations:

Me: Hey, what happened to your finger? (Which has a splint on it.)

Bill: Well, I smashed it with a hammer a few days ago working on laying some pipes. I kept drilling into it to drain the pus, and it was fine, but then I mentioned it to Lissette (the doctor) while I was talking to her about something else, and she freaked out and told me to put a splint on it and come into the capital immediately. So I got some popsicles and taped the sticks to my finger.

Me and Jen: ...

Bill: But it's fine, really. In fact, I think I'm going to take it off right now. (Untapes the popsicle sticks to reveal a horribly swollen, crooked finger.)

Me and Jen: OH MY GOD.

Bill: It's fine!

Jen: It is definitely crooked.

Bill: Yeah, Lissette says I need X-rays.

Me: Put the splint back on! I'm eating.

Bill: This is nothing.

Bill: I've been waiting on funding for my aqueduct, so I've spent like $500 of my own money on it.

Me and Jen: YOU WHAT?

This morning we also experimented with the Peace Corps Challenge game on the PC website. It's purportedly a game designed to simulate the Peace Corps Experience (tm) but it's a way more hardcore experience than ours. We wanted to design our own game, where you sit around the Peace Corps office and have to decide if you want to have pizza or sushi delivered to you. Then, you try to get the office WiFi to work so you can check the movie listings and figure out what you want to see that night. Be careful not to pick something dubbed into Spanish!! When you walk to the movie theater go in a group so you don't get held up. Also, watch out for potholes in the street! Minus five points if you get garbage water in your flipflops :(

This week at DREAM we had "community service week" in our afternoon program, wherein we had a variety of different activities instead of regular classes. The first day was the only day that really had "community service"--we did a street cleanup of the barrio. Some of the older girls insisted to me that they couldn't possibly pick up garbage because it was too shameful. One girl insisted that she couldn't pick up trash because her mother-in-law would see. I said, "What? You have a mother-in-law?" and she gave me a glower and told me I didn't understand anything. Fair enough, teenage girl!

But most of the kids were enthusiastic and we picked up a TON of trash, which is great. (The DR doesn't have any kind of anti-littering culture. Kids, grownups, everyone will just toss trash into the street without a second thought.)

The rest of the week the kids got increasingly worked up about the change in routine and we had more and more behavior problems. After classes, some of the other volunteers and I talked about how frustrating working with Dominican kids can be. One of the biggest cultural differences we've noticed is how shameless Dominican kids can be. Most Dominican kids are huge cheaters--and don't get me wrong, American kids cheat too! But American kids will usually try to be smooth: writing on their hands, notes under the table, at the very least they'll whisper. Dominican kids lack any kind of subtlety in cheating. They will talk at normal volume levels about the answers to tests. While the teacher is in the middle of giving a "no cheating" lecture.

Or take the T-shirt painting activity I led. I started off by explaining that "Some very nice people donated a bunch of T-shirts to us! Wasn't that nice? Now we can give everyone a T-shirt as a gift. The T-shirts are pretty big, I'm sorry. But a big T-shirt is better than no T-shirt, right? So we don't want to hear any complaining when we pass out the T-shirts, okay?" To which all the kids replied, "Okay!" And then literally the second I pulled out the first T-shirt, all the kids immediately started whining about how big and ugly the shirts are. Of course, American kids would have whined about the shirts too. But I estimate that lecture would have shamed them into at least five minutes of silence before the complaints started.

This shamelessness can be super frustrating to American teachers. Like, the kids don't even respect us enough to fake listening for five minutes? But on the other hand, it's a little refreshing. What you see is what you get, even if what you see is sometimes kids who are cheating off of each other, talking over your frustrated lecture about how rude it is to talk when other people are talking, or making out in the library during class.

Luckily, these kids don't speak English, so if you occasionally have to mutter to your co-teacher, "I am going to KILL ALL THE CHILDREN," they are none the wiser.

Since the other DREAM volunteers have bigger apartments than I do, we always hang out at their places instead of mine. But on Wednesday, I decided I wanted to entertain. I invited a few friends over with promises of homemade banana bread & a freshly-downloaded episode of The Office.

I tidied up, even going so far as to actually make my bed. I figured that we would all just sit on my bed, since I don't have a couch. Or other furniture. All went according to plan: my friends arrived just as my banana bread turned a lovely golden brown, and we all cuddled on my bed-couch. A few minutes into The Office, however, we all hear a crack. We look around and notice nothing amiss, so we don't think anything of it. You hear a lot of weird sounds living in the DR. Soon, however, we hear more cracks. And then the bed collapses.

We all flail about for a few moments, then manage to lift up the mattress and check out the frame. One piece of wood is cracked. We have no idea what to do about it, so I run next door to my landlord/neighbor's house. The landlady says, "How did this happen? Did it happen last week when you had THREE friends over? Three people can't sleep in that bed." "No, no," I assure her. "It was just now." She shakes her head. "My husband will have to see it."

He comes over to survey the damage, shakes his head, and magically gets two muchachos out of nowhere. The three of them take off my mattress and drag my bedframe out into the street. This naturally draws a crowd, and we all speculate what the neighbors must be thinking when they see five hot gringas and a broken bed in the street.

Then, magically, the muchachos immediately return with a new bed!

It was ridiculous. So unexpected, too, since things here are often... inefficient. But apparently when a lady needs a new bed, a lady gets a new bed. Awesome.

A short photo essay:

Oh dear.

"Fun party, Renata!!"

Magic new bed! (A mattress arrived shortly after.)

Remember Anderson, my student who wanted a permit to be my friend? After I failed to respond to his e-card, I've received these messages from him:

hi Renata

this is your pupil Anderson , how was your week end. i hope you had a good one .for me i am doing very good but i do miss you a lot for the last week i didnot see you .please i hope to hear from you too.

your friend Anderson

hi my friend

Are you good today?i am sending you some emails but i dont receive your answer .do i am so unfair to receive your email or to be your friend?i hope to hear from you for this moment

Anderson

take care

D:

In my afternoon computer class we're continuing to focus on Internet research. After more or less completing last week's dictionary worksheet (you know, the one where words were frequently defined as "noun" or "verb"), we've been working on an Internet scavenger hunt using Google. By the way, Dominicans (and I suppose all Spanish-speakers) pronounce "Google" as "Googly." And they have no idea what I'm talking about if I say "Google," so I'm always like, "So, let's go to Google... (blank looks) sorry, I mean, Googly." This cracks me up. Also, like 5/6s of the sounds are the same between "Google" and "Googly" so you'd think they'd figure it out. But no.

Anyway, here are some highlights of student answers to the scavenger hunt, translated to English for your convenience.

What is the capital of India?

Wikipedia

What is the population of China?

2008

What is a traditional African food?

food

What is a type of traditional Japanese theater?*

Japan

Find a photo of traditional Mexican clothing.

(I mean, yes, technically this is Mexican clothing, but seriously... you couldn't find a PHOTO? No, you can't, if your entire Internet strategy involves clicking on the very first thing that comes up. And also if rather than use Google Images [I mean Googly Images], you type "Find a photo of traditional Mexican clothing" into Googly.)

* "What's your favorite kind of Japanese theater?"

"Noh theater."

"You don't like any Japanese theater?"

Thank God it's viernes! A few anecdotes for you:

Yesterday I introduced my classes to the online multilingual dictionary WordReference.com. I gave them a worksheet with some English words and some Spanish words and asked them to find the word in the opposite language. This activity was a little bit high-level for a lot of the kids, who just haven't been taught many reading comprehension skills. So I'd look at the worksheet and see that kids had defined words as "verbo" or "sustantivo" (noun). But my favorite was one student who defined "reirse," which means "to laugh," as "to laugh at grammar." Wouldn't it be great if English specifically had a verb that meant "to laugh at grammar"? I would use that verb all the time. I bet German has a word for it.

The standard demand in my computer classes is "Juegos! Juegos! JUEGOS!" (Games!) The kids want to play computer games. Understandable, but whenever I give them a little free time to play games, it turns out... they don't really know how to play computer games. So they call me over to show them how to play whatever Flash game they have encountered--assuming, naturally, that I automatically know the rules to every single Flash game on the Internet. Usually I can figure it out, and then they don't even want to play the game. They want to watch me play the game. So I have 10 kids all going, "Sssst! Profe! Sssst!" urgently calling me over to play Internet games for them. Which, I mean... there are worse jobs.

DREAM has a pretty good database of all its past and present students, often including observations from teachers and parents. Today I looked up a student and saw that under "Parental comments" it said "He is not good at anything." WOW. I called everyone else in the office over to look because I thought it was so hilarious. And so sad. And also, can you ever in a million years imagine an American parent telling their child's teacher, "Oh yeah, he's not good at anything"? I mean, there's a good chance that the Dominican parent honestly meant for "he's not good at anything" to be a helpful comment. Like, he should take all the classes... because he's not good at anything.

I realized I never really updated my blog about my health--I'm totally fine after my week of near-constant sleep. However, I'm bitterly disappointed that my diagnosis was "a dengue-like viral infection." Come onnnn, I couldn't have gotten regular dengue? I had all the symptoms, but now I don't get the badass points of being able to say "Yeah, I had dengue fever. No big deal." "I had a dengue-like viral infection"? LAME. I also technically can't say for certain that I had a parasite. "I had a long-running stomach ailment that resolved itself after I started taking anti-parasite medication, but I didn't go in for a stool sample so I can't conclusively state that I had a parasite." All I wanted from my Peace Corps experience was one impressive-sounding tropical ailment. Is that so much to ask?

Also, the electricity situation has been better. I opened my milk box and it hasn't gone bad yet, hooray! Next to the fridge, I did discover a banana that I left at my house the entire week I was gone being sick. It was basically liquid, but strangely didn't smell bad or have any flies or ants on it. (It was in a plastic bag, but that doesn't necessarily keep bugs out in this climate.) Interesting. I wonder how long I could potentially have rotten fruit in my house before I would notice.

Remember a few weeks ago when I posted about a student's email to me? It was very sweet and high-level.

Today I received an eCard from the same student, which I'm choosing to share with everyone because it is amazing. Haga clic aqui.

I really recommend that you follow the link, since the image and formatting are also key, but in case you don't have that kind of time I'm going to archive the text of the card here.

my best teacher Renata S-

Hi teacher

how are you today? i hope you are doing very good.I am your student Anderson I send you this flower just to prove you how i appreciate the manner you teach me and sincerly i am very flattered that i have some one so special like you as my teacher .iwant to ask you this question but i would like you answer me about it:can you give me permit to be your friend ?i hope fully you will let me hear from you very soon.take care of your self and i wish you a perfect time here in Dominican Republic.

your student Anderson

Your sweet student Anderson

Also, a quick GChat my friend Keane & I had on the subject:

Keane: WOWWWWWW

Keane: POST THAT AS YOUR AWAY MESSAGE

Me: i just wish that the image was actually the cover of twilight like i thought it was at first

Keane: it's so deep

Keane: so are you going to be friends with him?

Keane: he wants your permit.

Me: i think i'll give him a learner's permit to start

It's such a fine line between "sweet" and "a little creepy." But I'm going to just go ahead and give him props for the effort. And the correct spelling of my email address. Peace Corps is truly offering me the opportunity to be an agent of change in the Dominican Republic.

Not really a fire, just back to Cabarete, which is swelteringly hot. And I think I've had about half an hour of electricity since I got back on Saturday night. It was from 8:30am-9am today.

The main reason this is annoying is that my milk goes bad. Dominican standards for milk are different from in the US. Here, whole milk is the norm. You can buy whole milk in little juice-box sized boxes. This way, you can probably use it all in one day before it goes bad. But whole milk is gross.

You can buy 1% milk at the big grocery store, but it is only available in big boxes. I think they are a liter or something. Anyway. When the electricity is being normal (a few hours on, a few hours off) you can buy a big box of milk and it will probably be okay.

These boxes (of all milk, not just the 1%) are hermetically sealed so they don't go bad. So right now I have an unopened box of milk in my fridge. I am afraid to open it because I don't know when the luz will come back and I don't want to waste a 45-peso big box of milk.

In summation: life is hard!! Wah!!

But on the bright side... I'm feeling better! I got out of my medically-mandated hotel room! Hooray!

I was going to write some kind of funny blog entry about how I've been sick for the last four days but actually I'm just pretty tired. Yesterday I came into the capital to see the doctor. We're waiting on some bloodwork to come back to make sure I don't have anything too weird like dengue. Mainly I've been sleeping a lot and only occasionally surfacing to eat crackers and watch reality televsion.

But on the bright side, at least I didn't get tuberculosis* like a friend of mine did! He's in quarantine for like three weeks now. We've decided that he should release an emo album based on the experience entitled Within the Quarantine of my Soul. It will include tracks like "The Empty Calcified Pocket in my Lungs... and Heart" and "I Miss You Like I Miss Not Coughing." Trust me, TB is going to be the next big thing.

* You might be thinking, "I didn't even know people got TB anymore!" Well, they do, but it's pretty rare in developed nations. He'll be fine, though, he's getting antibiotics. And is in quarantine.

The above was pretty much what I was chanting all day today and yesterday as I tried to coach kids through creating email accounts. I realized that I waaay overestimated these kids' skill level. They are extreme beginners, although they are very enthusiastic. Also, the Dominican school system does not emphasize creativity, but rather rote memorization. So, for example, when I was trying to explain the concept of a "user name" I said that usually people do something like their name plus a number or a nickname. Then I said, for example, my email could be "Renata50 at gmail.com". Then I walked around and realized that half the students were trying to register the account "Renata50@gmail". Not quite, guys. The other half put "Cabarete, Callejon de La Loma" for "desired address."

Anyway, as if this weren't complicated enough, our Internet kept cutting in and out and resetting everyone's work. And then Gmail decided that we had registered enough accounts for one day, thank you very much.

BUT ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, one of the few students who successfully created an account sent me an email to practice his English, and it reads as follows:

Subject: Saluting

Hi Teacher

How are you ? i hope you are very fine.My name is Anderson , i am a student at dream Project .i am 22 years old ,i am intersting very much for the manner you teach me and sincerly i appreciate the computer class so much , i hope fully that i will have a good experience with you at the computer.take care of yourself and God bless you.

your studant Anderson

So, you know... could be worse.

Advise me on my grad school/GRE dilemma, blog readers!

The gist of the dilemma is: Waaah I'm lazy and I don't want to take the GRE. Should I suck it up and do it anyway?

The deets: I am applying for library/information science masters programs. My top two schools, U of Illinois & U Wisconsin (Madison) do not require the GRE. U Iowa and U Washington, which are my... third and fourth choices I guess, DO require the GRE. U ILL says a good GRE score can help an application. U Wisconsin doesn't consider the GRE (right on).

It is possible to take the GRE in the DR, but it's kind of a pain. And expensive. And also I don't want to study for it.

I think I am probably already a pretty good applicant without the GRE. I also think if I suck it up and study I could probably get a pretty good score normally. I have also been having these anxiety problems lately so maybe I would actually just tweak out about it too much. I'm not sure.

Also, if I don't take the GRE it looks like I'm only going to apply to two grad schools. Is that okay? I don't want to flip out and apply to a billion schools or anything, but should I apply to more?

Any input would be appreciated!

I took my camera out to the beach this weekend! Here are a few shots.

Seriously. Not allowed.

Me showing off my board. And by "my board" I mean "the communal beginners' longboards."

I couldn't even tell who I was taking pictures of. I'm pretty sure these are strangers, but just pretend like they're my friends. Or, hey, pretend like one of them is me.

Kicking it on the beach.

Kadi, me, and Surfcat. AWWW.

Landlady (who I also pay to do my laundry): I’m sorry, when I did your laundry I got bleach on some of your underwear. It’s just that there were stains. You know… blood.

Me: Yeah, sorry… um… it’s fine.

Landlady: Oh, are you embarrassed to talk about this because there are other people here? Don’t worry, they’re my family!

Me: No, no… it’s fine.

Landlady: These are women’s things. We can talk about them.

Me: Yes. Anyway I have to go, bye.

Scene: In front of the small surf boutique my landlady owns.

Landlady: Renata, come here! I want to show you something!

Me: Okay. (Enters store)

Landlady: (Picks up a stack of panties) Look, these are very nice. (Begins showing me each individual pair) These ones have lace… these ones are pink… they are very pretty, right?

Me: Yes, they are very nice. But I already have enough underwear, thank you.

Landlady: Yes, I know. You have a lot of underwear.

Me: …. Anyway I have to go, bye.

Landlady: Do you want me to do your laundry?

Me: Oh, no thank you. I know you are very busy, and my other volunteer friends told me about a Laundromat nearby.

Landlady: You can’t go to a Laundromat! They don’t care about your clothes there! I care about you!

Me: Well… it’s just that the Laundromat is very cheap, and I am a volunteer and don’t have that much money.

Landlady: But I wash your clothes with love!

Me: Well… thank you.

Landlady: Did my girl do a good job cleaning your apartment?

Me: Yes, thank you. How much do I owe her?

Landlady: (Hands up in surrender gesture) It’s up to you.

Me: Well, I thought four hundred was too much. The other volunteers say it costs them two hundred to get their apartments cleaned, and their apartments are much bigger than mine.

Landlady: My girl will not want two hundred. It’s not about money. She cleans your apartment with LOVE. She is not some person who is only interested in money. She has a good heart. She will want three hundred pesos.

Me: … okay.

*Previous awkward conversation involved her talking about “her girl” and me not realizing that she was referring to her middle-aged neighbor who was sitting there the entire time. She convinced me that I should pay “her girl” to clean my apartment because she is so poor and needs the money, even though I feel awkward about the whole idea of paying someone to clean for me. But also I don't want to be overcharged for it!

Here's how I've been spending my morning:

Attempting to partition a hard drive and install Windows on it. This is a pretty basic task but I keep getting weird error messages and having to re-install. I have re-installed three times. The power is out and the computers are running off the inversor, but the fans don't work. It is hot and I am frustrated.

Also, I made new cards to number the computers and taped them up on the wall behind each computer. Even though I used the paper cutter, none of my cards are quite identical. Honestly, I'm not even sure how I achieved some of the angles involved with these "rectangular" cards. Good thing I'm not the art teacher I suppose? (Although maybe I would just teach the class about modern art, and how what a rectangle means to me is maybe not what a rectangle means to you. Suck on that.)

This afternoon we start teaching! Our Estrellas Juveniles (Young Stars) program is pretty cool. There are three rotating groups. I'm co-teaching "Computers & English." The others are "Reading & Writing" and "Math." It is kind of a cool program because if a kid just wants to take, say, computer class, he still has to take the other classes and learn even more things. Also, our classes are free.

Anyway, we plan to use these ESL flash games in our class, and they are really fun and I've been playing them all morning even though I already, you know, know English. Also, some of the other volunteers and I have gotten really into the typing games at ARTypist (it's a bilingual site) and are now pretty competitive about it. Right now my top score is 17,000 in the ghost typing game. I was briefly the champion but Roger just blew past me with 19,000. That... might not be as interesting to the average reader as it was to us at the center.

In slightly more exciting news, I went surfing again on Saturday and totally didn't drown! I'm also still totally bad at it, but, as they say, Rome wasn't surfed in two lessons.

It's true! The verb "to surf" is one that I never thought I'd be able to accurately conjugate in the first-person past-tense, but here I am. I surfed.

Okay, fine, I never actually stood up on the board. (Which most people don't their first time, apparently.) But I got up on my knees a few times and it was super fun!

A local surf shop donated a free lesson to all of the DREAM volunteers because we are so awesome. I was intimidated about it, since I'm not as athletic as most of my fellow volunteers here. Also, I fear sea creatures.

But it was awesome! I think I am going to sign up for a whole year of surfing, since the same guy is giving us a really good deal on it. (When I say "a whole year of surfing" it includes a few more lessons and then unlimited board rental. And rides to the beach.)

Anyway, that's pretty much my big news for right now. Other than that, it's been pretty chill, non sea-faring workshops and the like.

I'm preparing a few worksheets about Dominican culture for the new DREAM volunteers who are coming next week. (Peace Corps gives us three months of cultural, language, and specialized skills training--DREAM gives its volunteers a week!) Anyway, I thought this handout about non-verbal communication might also make a good blog entry.

Gesture

Meaning

Note

Finger-wag back and forth

“No”

This is very commonly used and is not rude. Use it like you would a head-shake no. It’s especially useful on the street—finger-wagging should put off most vendors and motoconchistas.

Nose-scrunch

“I don’t understand”/ “What?”

If someone does this do you, start off by repeating whatever you just said.

Hiss

“Look at me/listen to me”—attention-getter

Again—not at all rude here, although it may grate on American ears. You may grow accustomed to ignoring it, since it often comes from tigueres, but sometimes a Dominican friend will say, “Hey, I saw you in the street yesterday and you ignored me!”

Hand to opposite elbow

“Tacaño—cheapskate”

A little rude. A seller might use it if you are bargaining with too-low prices. A Dominican might use it to you to refer to someone else.

Lip-point (looks kind of like a kiss)

“Look at that” (whatever the lips are directed towards)

Not sexual or kissing-related at all. Just pointing, like with a finger.

Tapping temple

“Smart!”

For example, if a student has a really good idea you can say “buen idea” and tap your forehead for emphasis.

Rubbing index fingers together, or one index finger on the thigh

“Sex”

Usually a man will do this to a woman on a bus or something. It’s a gross gesture; don’t acknowledge it. It could also be used in conversation between friends, like “Eh, Juan y Maria… (rub index fingers together)?” I.e. “Do you think Juan and Maria are hooking up?”

Use index finger to scribble in the air

“Check, please!”

Use this after making eye contact from afar with your waiter or waitress at a restaurant.

Congratulations! You have completed the equivalent of 20 minutes of DREAM volunteer training.

Well, hurricane season is starting up again with Ana, Bill, and Claudette partying in the Caribbean. Right now Tropical Depression Ana is causing a gentle rain to fall upon Cabarete. (Yesterday it was Tropical Storm but it's already been downgraded.) Bill and Claudette aren't even supposed to affect the DR. (Southeastern Americans, though, watch out!) Anyway, just a reminder that Peace Corps DR has an excellent storm warning system and I'd already gotten two emails, a text, and three phone calls about Ana before it even started raining here.

This weekend I failed to round up a group to go to Santiago to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (Harry Potter y el Misterio del Principe--Harry Potter and the Mystery of the Prince, not quite the same) but I'm going to try again this weekend. Unless we get put on Standfast--Peace Corps code for "it's raining, or might rain, so everyone stay home." But si Dios quiere, I'll get my British wizard fix soon.

This weekend I did go to Sosua with my friends Asahi and Nate, which was remarkable for two reasons:

1. I ate some really greasy French fries and got spectacularly sick. (I'm fine now.)

2. I got one of the more hilarious pickup lines I've received in this country. Let me recreate the scene:

Asahi and I are walking back from the beach. We weren't swimming, so we're wearing normal clothes. The street to the beach is lined with small stores, all selling the same touristy crap. Asahi and I are talking to each other and trying to avoid eye contact with the sellers.

Che Guevara T-shirt wearing seller (in English): Excuse me.

Me (avoiding eye contact): No, gracias.

Che guy: Please, I do not want to sell anything to you. I just want to ask one question.

Me: ... okay.

Che guy: Where are you from? Are you from Canada?

Me: ... I'm from the United States.

Che guy: I'm from Haiti.

Me: Hm. (Tries to walk away)

Che guy: Wait, wait! I saw you before when you were walking to the beach, but I didn't call out to you because I thought, they are going to the beach. But I like the way you carry yourself.

Me: Um, thanks.

Che guy: I want to see you again.

Me: ....

Che guy: I want to see you again every day for the rest of my life.

Me: .... (Trying not to laugh)

Che guy: Let me get something for you. (Reaches out and wipes sweat off my cheek.)

Me: UM, GOODBYE. (Walks away and cracks up)

I think I might be leaving out a few pieces of the conversation, but I definitely remembered all the best lines. I want to see you again every day for the rest of my life. Nice one, Che guy. Nice one.

Hi guys! So, not that much is new with me since the last update. I’ve been settling in at the DREAM Center, working on updating the manual for computer classes and a grant application. I now have some pretty bourgeoisie problems to deal with: my manual is for PCs and we have Macs! The lab doesn’t have air conditioning! But these are both kind of important, since Macs are different enough from PCs that the manual needs a lot of work to be comprehensible for beginner computer students. And without air conditioning these new computers are going to get super effed-up by the heat here. (That is not the exact phrasing I am using in my grant application, but you get the gist..)

I’ve also been getting to know my new fellow volunteers. It is funny: we go out to Happy Hour after work, like we are in America or something! Better than America, even, since Happy Hour is on the beach. Uh, where even am I? Am I still in the Peace Corps?

Perhaps most excitingly, I have been walking home from work. This is exciting because the last few days my street has been ripped up by a big earthmover. Apparently they are fixing some pipes down there or something, which is good since our water situation has been dire lately. (Like, half an hour of running water a day, which I have to obsessively monitor and then fill buckets when it comes.) But now, since the entire street has become a Pit of Despair, I have to scramble home over a very narrow strip of sand. Although “strip” sounds misleadingly flat—it is a narrow series of piles. Of sand. That I scramble over in flip-flops. Meanwhile, neighbors helpfully call out “Cuidado!” (“Careful!”), as if I am not already painfully aware that one misstep will send me straight down into the Pit of Despair. (OK, it is like five feet deep and I probably wouldn’t die. I could probably climb back out again. But it would be so awkward.)

Also, I have prepared for you all a small photo tour of my new barrio and apartment, including the Pit of Despair! Enjoy.

Here is the earthmover responsible for the Pit of Despair.

I am not sure if you can accurately detect the depth of the Pit here. Oh, it is deep.

This child is far better at navigating the edge of the Pit than I.

After successfully crossing the Pit, you arrive at my apartment! Not pictured: my apartment extends for about three inches past the door on the other side, but I couldn't get it all in the frame.

Here is my kitchen area! I put the cutting board on the stove to make a counter. One day I will probably melt my cutting board.

I thought about cleaning up before doing the photo tour, but then I thought no, you should see how I live! Thus, here is my bed/couch/table/nest, unmade. But the table is set for lunch, which inquiring mothers will be happy to note includes a fruit AND a vegetable. (Perhaps this is only detectable in the large version: it's pineapple, carrots, and a falafel wrap that I made myself because I am awesome.)

The front half (third, really) of the apartment. The TV doesn't work, but the ceiling fan does.

Here is the DREAM center! Perhaps it is not that exciting to look at. Dreams are invisible.

Oh hey, here's Playa Cabarete. I can walk there in about fifteen minutes. Just sayin'.

There are some more pictures at my Flickr. My dad particularly will be interested in the additional shots available of the Pit of Despair and related equipment.

Hey, gang! I survived my trip to the capital and I'm back at the DREAM Center now. (I love that my place of work is called the DREAM Center. It sounds like I should be in an office full of Care Bears.)

Anyway, I uploaded a new batch of photos to my Flickr. Here are a few favorites:

One of the hikes we took with the Constanza youth camp. I held up the back of the line.

A muchacho with a hilarious attitude.

Chris, me, Malia, and Kathy on the top of a mountain called La Ochenta. (The 80. The name is unclear to me; it is more than 80 feet tall but less than 80 miles. Whatever.)

One of the views from the top of La Ochenta.

Julie's body art in progress at the DREAM art show fundraiser, which featured face/body painting.

A couple kids rocking their face paint.

One of the pieces of art for sale at the DREAM event.

Keane: I don't really get all these volunteers who have blogs. I mean, my life is not that interesting. I don't know what I'd blog about.

Me: Yeah, once in awhile I actually have something interesting to post on my blog. The rest of the time I just put stuff about, like...

Keane: That Japanese cat blog you're into?

Me: YES.

Keane: Haha.

Me: No seriously, I wrote like a paragraph about it last week.

(God, it's still the cutest blog ever, though.)

Anyway. Right now I am at Keane's site kind of helping him fix a computer. Also kind of blogging and making fun of other volunteers' blogs. (JUST KIDDING ABOUT THAT LAST PART, OTHER VOLUNTEERS.)

Yesterday I went to an Art Night at a hostel in Santiago. It was a lot of fun to connect with other volunteers and hear their music and poetry. Plus, Keane and Shilpa made Indian food and it was amazing. I brought a new friend from DREAM with me and I think she had a good time. We had previously bonded with each other over the fact that everyone else at DREAM has already bonded over the summer. But now, the two of us have an Art Night bond!! Hooray, friends. (Please imagine those last few sentences being spoken by Dr. Zoidberg from Futurama if you are familiar with that show. If you are not familiar with Futurama, just know that I do realize I'm being a little pathetic. Friends are fun!!)

Anyway. I am extremely excited that tomorrow I get to pick up my new glasses! (You may recall the broken glasses saga of two weeks ago. I have been wearing my old backup pair since them. They are almost the right prescription, but a little too weak, so I've been getting some headaches and eyestrain after I look at too many things. Tragically, nearly all of my job assignments and hobbies require looking at things. It is also making me really appreciate proper optometry! I know for a fact that when we gave out free glasses at the med mission I did a few months ago it was really hit or miss; we just gave each person the closest glasses we could find to the prescription the person actually needed. I am sure many of those people are having these kind of problems all the time. And I'm sure they are excited to have imperfect glasses, which are surely better than no glasses. And all you lucky chumps with perfect vision should take a moment right now to appreciate it.)

Now that I've finished reminding you decadent First Worlders of how good you have it, I'm going to go back to trying to fix this computer. (We've just made the executive decision that we need to open it up and swap out the sound card. This requires us to literally break a seal that the Despacho de la Primera Dama has placed on the back of the computer to prevent a person from opening it. Breaking the seal on a Despacho computer offers an IT Volunteer the same kind of mild illicit thrill as ripping off a strongly-worded mattress tag.)

Ohhhh all kinds of things. Here is a recent article (in English) about my new partner NGO, DREAM Project. It is slightly factually incorrect in parts (for example, it claims that Google is one of our sponsors, which it is not. But if anyone reading this works for Google, please feel free to become one of our sponsors!!)

Basically I am working at lot, like nine hour days. This is compared to my old site where I pretty much worked a 9-hour week. Maybe. It feels good, though.

Also I am spending a lot of time reading this blog about a Japanese cat named Maru. IT IS AMAZING, please cease reading my blog immediately and read about Maru instead. I assure you it will be more fulfilling.

HEY BLOG. How have you been? I've had an eventful week, I suppose! I went up a mountain to Constanza, where I helped my friends Chris, Kathy, and Malia run a youth day camp. It was nice: the air is cooler up the mountain, and I got to go on some fun hikes and get a free snack every day. It wasn't all sunshine and unicorns, however:

I got enormous (egg sized in surface diameter, though not in depth) bug bites from evil insects known as magi.

I got hit in the face with a baseball and had a sore nose.

I had the sniffles all week.

I scratched my arms on thorn bushes.

I fell on a rock and skinned my knee REAL BAD.

I broke my glasses across the nose and had to tape them together.

Basically I had a lot of maladies an average elementary school student might sustain. Hilarious.

Now I am up in Cabarete, a nice beach town on the North Coast. It seems I will be moving here next week! I will be working with the DREAM project and it seems like it will be awesome. I looked at some housing options today and hopefully I will hear back about prices by the end of the day and move in somewhere on Tuesday! Goodbye, stupid old town. Hello, beach!

Oh also I will get new glasses on Monday, which I am really looking forward to because this tape job keeps coming undone, causing my glasses to fall off my face at inopportune times. Actually there are never really any opportune times for glasses to fall off one's face.