I'm sorry it's taken soooo long to close out my blog!!
My last weeks and months were pretty hectic, and my transition this summer has been fairly busy as well!
I'll try to rewind a little bit and catch you up to speed.
The end of the school year was filled with many great endings. My artists had their final show, and the theme was their own community, Lecheria. All of the projects were inspired by the people, places, and things in Lecheria. There were collage representations of local landmarks, watercolors of landscapes, and drawings of people in the community. It was a nice close to the year. I had enough funding left to give them each a year-end gift of a sketch pad with drawing pencils, which they loved! Giving out their portfolios was cool too—it was amazing to see all that they had accomplished.
Even better than the show was the field trip. I took the students with the best attendance/behavior on a trip to two art museums downtown. We explored the National Museum of Modern Art and they gave them a workshop on drawing (more elementary than I imagined or wanted, but the kids enjoyed it). The cutest part was that a lot of them brought their own sketchpads and wanted to use their personal pencils because they were of better quality than what the museum had haha. Then we headed to a Picasso exhibit. They gave the kids a pretty lame workshop in movement, but the kids were good sports. The best part was when they gave the kids clipboards and pencils to sketch Picasso's works. The kids were SILENT and so focused on drawing. If all this class did was give them an activity that is calming and helps them focus, I'm happy! They also gave each kid nice exhibition booklets with photos of all of the works in color. The kids were so happy to have something to take with them, and I remember that one girl, Shakiri said, “I am going to draw ALL of these in my notebook!” The kids truly are artists, and I am glad that they feel confident in creating their own beautiful works!
Another great closer of the year was the staff party. The staff and families went to the beach. This was one of my favorite days in both my first and second years. A lot of staff and collaborators from the batey come, so it's nice that they get to go somewhere that they could never afford on their own. It was the first time to the beach for many of them! We just swam, played, ate, and had a great time. Everyone seems to forget about all of their problems for the day and just have a good time.
Saying goodbye to Lecheria was really hard. On one hand, I knew that I would be back relatively soon because it's not too far away. But knowing that I would only return as a visitor, not as a teacher, was difficult. Although I was there for the kids, my hardest goodbyes were to the friendships I had made with adults in the batey. I think partly because I came back after my first year, the kids just kept saying they'd see me soon, but the adults knew that I wasn't going to return to work there. I know I'll see them relatively soon, hopefully within the year. I do think about them often.
We closed out our time there with a trip to Haiti—Port au Prince this time. The experience was indescribable. Much of the city looks like the earthquake had just happened, so I can't imagine what it looked like immediately afterwards. Many of the landmarks that were destroyed like the National Palace and the Cathedral have remained the same. In the downtown there were NO restaurants and not even places to sit. We ended up cleaning rubble off of some steps to sit after a long day of walking. I had a guidebook from before the earthquake, and it talked about a big park/square in the middle of the city. While looking for it, we stumbled upon a tent city and realized that that WAS the park. Tents still seemed to be in any opened space available. There were filthy portapotties for the tent residents and I'm not sure where/how they got their water. The people were friendly but life seemed pretty miserable in the tents. One thing that had been restored was the big Iron Market, but it was filled with souvenirs and vendors and no tourists. Go to Haiti!! We felt safe, and their economy needs all of the help it can get. We also went to Jacmel, a quiet, coastal city and stayed at a boy's orphanage. The boys were adorable and we mostly spent time with them and went to the beach. We didn't have a room, so we slept on the roof! Back in Port au Prince our hostel didn't have any more room so we were in our own tent, pretty fitting for the location. Although sadly, our tent was big and roomy and much more comfortable than the tents I'm sure that the Haitian people were sleeping in. It wasn't your typical vacation but it was an eye-opening trip. Plus I got to practice my Kreyol a little bit. I love the country and the language and I would love to go back for a longer time some day.
Now I am getting ready to attend the Urban Teacher Education Program at the University of Chicago. I've been in Chicago for about a week now and I'm loving it. I live in a Catholic Worker house called Su Casa. It's a big, old house with a great group of people. If you're not familiar, the Catholic Worker is a movement committed to promoting and fulfilling the Gospel's call to social justice. This particular house provides transitional housing to homeless Hispanic families, mostly single mothers fleeing domestic violence or abuse. Many of the families' experiences have been violent and horrific, so this is a wonderful refuge for them. It's an eclectic group of people and has been a lot of fun so far. There's a huge garden and we even have an art room!
The neighborhood is pretty low-income and very segregated. We live very close to an invisible dividing line between the Mexican and African American sides. It's amazing the difference from one side to the other. The Mexican side is low-income as well but there are more shops and more people around. Then a block down into the predominantly black side (where we live) there's trash all over the place, a couple of liquor stores, and not a lot of people around. I feel comfortable here personal safety-wise, so don't worry!!! It is just sad to see a neighborhood with so little going on. Although my neighborhood in the D.R. was poor, it didn't have the sense of gritty-ness that this neighborhood has. I'm new, so I'm just taking guesses, but people who have been here for a while have confirmed my guesses.
Anyways, I start classes on Mondays. It's a two-year program, and it's fairly small (there are about 30 of us) so I think it's going to be a fun group of people. I'll be balancing class, work at Su Casa, and work-study job. I'll be pretty busy, but I'm excited. There's a lot to look for, and this city is awesome. The only downside is the winter, but I bought a big fat winter coat today so I'm looking up.
I'm sorry for the delay in updates!! I think this is where the blog will end for me. I just wanted to keep you updated while I was living with limited access to internet. Now that I'm back in the states, I'd love to hear from you all more often. My email is lauren.ogara@gmail.com. Thank you for all of the love and support that you've given me for the past two years! I could NOT have done it without knowing that I had a team rooting for me.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Justin Bieber and other important things
I don't have a lot of time, but I wanted to get out the most important news!
1. I'm going to the UChicago! I'm a little nervous, but also excited! So I'll definitely be in Chicago for the next two years!
2. Please check out our Justin Bieber video--it's our kids singing (in English!) one of his songs. It's pretty funny if I do say so myself, and it's already been aired on Dominican TV. We're hoping to get his attention, so please share it with everyone you know!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGWG6vlsDFM
1. I'm going to the UChicago! I'm a little nervous, but also excited! So I'll definitely be in Chicago for the next two years!
2. Please check out our Justin Bieber video--it's our kids singing (in English!) one of his songs. It's pretty funny if I do say so myself, and it's already been aired on Dominican TV. We're hoping to get his attention, so please share it with everyone you know!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGWG6vlsDFM
Sunday, April 3, 2011
I'm back!
I imagine one could assume a lot of things from not having heard from me in four months. I can assure you that my absence has only meant extreme business and trying to take advantage every last bit of time I have left here. I have had so many experiences since January that, naturally, I can only think of what has happened in the past couple of weeks.
Last week, some thieves slaughtered ten cows, raised near to the batey, took all of the “good parts,” and left the rest of the cows to rot. Lucky for our community, the cows were prime for scavenging. Women and children ran with buckets to collect any meat they could get their hands on. I saw cows' heads, hearts, eyes, intestines, everything. The worst part was watching them clean the meat. I saw one woman and her grandchildren cleaning out the intestines in a still water lake—the same lake people fish from and wash clothes in. It is so difficult to be hygienic with a lack of water (let alone clean water).
By last spring, I had witnessed some extreme happenings in the batey such as rape and child death by malnutrition. This year I have seen the less dramatic side of poverty. I have seen people forced into hard choices, precisely from a lack of choice. And yet it's not dramatic, sad, or unusual for them. It is simply expected. One of my students this year, Mariana, 12, has recently left the batey. She arrived last year from Haiti with no Spanish at all. She already knew how to read in creole, but I remember struggling with her to learn Spanish vocabulary. This year she has been in my art course and I have enjoyed seeing her explore her creativity and getting to know her quirks. Two weeks ago I thought it was strange when I hadn't seen her in a while—she never missed class! Her little sister came, on Mariana's orders, to tell me that she had left the batey. Her uncle called her mother and told her he needed someone to take care of his young children. So she left fourth grade and went to the other side of the country to live with her uncle (who I'm not sure she knows) and take care of his family.
Even after my time here, it's easy to blame the mother. Why did she let her go?? But she has five other young children in her house to take care of. Knowing that one of her daughters will be provided for somewhere else is probably a relief. It is hard for me to not assume the worst of this situation. One, she is no longer in school, which is certainly a bad thing, especially for such a smart girl excited about school. Second of all, I have only heard bad things of young girls going to work for (male) relatives, especially because it seems like she will be the only “woman” in the house. This is the sort of thing that happens all of the time. The poverty in the batey is not always so evident when you see that many have cell phones and televisions. When visitors come to see the batey, they say things like, “The kids are so happy!” and “Poverty is all they know, so they are happy with it!” It is obviously more complicated than that. The poverty of choice here—watching kids forced by their circumstances to settle for less than their potential—is crushing.
On non-batey news, we had the opportunity last weekend to visit an American religious missioner on the Haitian border (Hondo Valle). It was interesting to see rural border life. We escaped the concrete and blaring noise of our neighborhood to go to a friendly, sleepy town. I experienced being on the WORST road in my life—far worse than I even saw in Haiti. Even more amazing than the fact that a car (well, truck) could pass through that road is the fact that we saw people walking on that road, who we were told walked for hours and hours between Haiti and the Dominican Republic to buy and sell wares.
Even more interesting was the chance to learn from the religious sister, Jane, who had been living and ministering there for thirty years. She had a refreshing approach of seeing what the community wanted to achieve and working to help them facilitate their own empowerment and development. Our community often seems to depend so much on our services, and it was nice to know that there are projects that help a community stand on its own two feet, without the direct dependence or direction of foreigners. I would love to be involved in a project like this some day.
Speaking of some day, I only have two and a half months left here. More and more I have felt ready to end my time here and go back to school, but I am also realizing how big of a change this will be. I will be saying goodbye to a country, a job, a community, and friends who I have seen every day (almost every hour) for the past two years. It will be sad to say goodbye, and scary to move back to the states, because I know that I would love to continue international work. But in the meantime, I will be studying education to be better-equipped for international development work in the future. In the next week, I have to choose between two urban education programs, one in Boston and the other in Chicago. Both programs are wonderful opportunities and I am excited about them both. The only con about either program is missing out on the other. You will know as soon as I know. Please pray that I can come to a decision!!
Last week, some thieves slaughtered ten cows, raised near to the batey, took all of the “good parts,” and left the rest of the cows to rot. Lucky for our community, the cows were prime for scavenging. Women and children ran with buckets to collect any meat they could get their hands on. I saw cows' heads, hearts, eyes, intestines, everything. The worst part was watching them clean the meat. I saw one woman and her grandchildren cleaning out the intestines in a still water lake—the same lake people fish from and wash clothes in. It is so difficult to be hygienic with a lack of water (let alone clean water).
By last spring, I had witnessed some extreme happenings in the batey such as rape and child death by malnutrition. This year I have seen the less dramatic side of poverty. I have seen people forced into hard choices, precisely from a lack of choice. And yet it's not dramatic, sad, or unusual for them. It is simply expected. One of my students this year, Mariana, 12, has recently left the batey. She arrived last year from Haiti with no Spanish at all. She already knew how to read in creole, but I remember struggling with her to learn Spanish vocabulary. This year she has been in my art course and I have enjoyed seeing her explore her creativity and getting to know her quirks. Two weeks ago I thought it was strange when I hadn't seen her in a while—she never missed class! Her little sister came, on Mariana's orders, to tell me that she had left the batey. Her uncle called her mother and told her he needed someone to take care of his young children. So she left fourth grade and went to the other side of the country to live with her uncle (who I'm not sure she knows) and take care of his family.
Even after my time here, it's easy to blame the mother. Why did she let her go?? But she has five other young children in her house to take care of. Knowing that one of her daughters will be provided for somewhere else is probably a relief. It is hard for me to not assume the worst of this situation. One, she is no longer in school, which is certainly a bad thing, especially for such a smart girl excited about school. Second of all, I have only heard bad things of young girls going to work for (male) relatives, especially because it seems like she will be the only “woman” in the house. This is the sort of thing that happens all of the time. The poverty in the batey is not always so evident when you see that many have cell phones and televisions. When visitors come to see the batey, they say things like, “The kids are so happy!” and “Poverty is all they know, so they are happy with it!” It is obviously more complicated than that. The poverty of choice here—watching kids forced by their circumstances to settle for less than their potential—is crushing.
On non-batey news, we had the opportunity last weekend to visit an American religious missioner on the Haitian border (Hondo Valle). It was interesting to see rural border life. We escaped the concrete and blaring noise of our neighborhood to go to a friendly, sleepy town. I experienced being on the WORST road in my life—far worse than I even saw in Haiti. Even more amazing than the fact that a car (well, truck) could pass through that road is the fact that we saw people walking on that road, who we were told walked for hours and hours between Haiti and the Dominican Republic to buy and sell wares.
Even more interesting was the chance to learn from the religious sister, Jane, who had been living and ministering there for thirty years. She had a refreshing approach of seeing what the community wanted to achieve and working to help them facilitate their own empowerment and development. Our community often seems to depend so much on our services, and it was nice to know that there are projects that help a community stand on its own two feet, without the direct dependence or direction of foreigners. I would love to be involved in a project like this some day.
Speaking of some day, I only have two and a half months left here. More and more I have felt ready to end my time here and go back to school, but I am also realizing how big of a change this will be. I will be saying goodbye to a country, a job, a community, and friends who I have seen every day (almost every hour) for the past two years. It will be sad to say goodbye, and scary to move back to the states, because I know that I would love to continue international work. But in the meantime, I will be studying education to be better-equipped for international development work in the future. In the next week, I have to choose between two urban education programs, one in Boston and the other in Chicago. Both programs are wonderful opportunities and I am excited about them both. The only con about either program is missing out on the other. You will know as soon as I know. Please pray that I can come to a decision!!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Home Sweet Home
Sorry!!!! The year ended in a whirlwind! In November I didn't know how I was going to get everything done that I needed to before Christmas, and now I can't believe 2010 is almost over.
I spent the last month getting my kids ready for their first art exhibit. I am happy to say it was a success! There were more than 200 works of art done by about 30 kids! Many people in the community--parents, siblings, kids--came to see the art (the free snack offer helped a little haha). A lot of the artists were giving tours to visitors--I was so proud to see them explaining and showing off their work. They were all really proud of what they had done! Thank you to all who supported me! I have big plans for next year--a field trip, a family art night, and another exhibit. I'm a little nervous about the work ahead of me, but I know it'll go by in a flash. Check out the photos from the exhibit at the link below:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2647651&id=920832&l=a2fbb5fd3c
The kids' Christmas party was awesome! Last year we had a performance by a local Michael Jackson impersonator. THIS year we had a performance by yours truly and the other girls---performing Justin Bieber! There's a long story behind this, but basically JB is coming to Santo Domingo for a concert in April, so we decided to teach the kids the song (in English) and make a music video to entice Justin to come visit, or donate money, or give us free tickets haha. It's a little crazy but the results are hilarious and you should see the video in the next couple of months. Anyways, the Americanas performed Baby for the kids and they loved it. We also had dance contests for the kids. They really know how to have fun.
What else? Oh yeah, we also all had head lice for three weeks--it was hell. Every night we were nit-picking, ironing, shampooing our hair. I got it last year too but I got rid of it pretty quickly. I don't even want to talk about it--it was so awful to get rid of. Never again! I keep the lice heads at arms length now haha.
On the home front, we started celebrating Christmas in October. We made a fireplace, fire, and stockings! It was a nice way to spend hours and hours on the weekends haha and to get excited to come home. We all came back to the states for Christmas. It's FREEZING and a little strange being home but it's nice preparation for leaving for good in June. I'm trying to enjoy the time with family and get a head start on grad school applications--so far I'm applying to elementary ed grad programs in Chicago and Boston--I'll keep you posted!
I hope everyone is celebrating a joyful Christmas and getting ready for a new year! 2010 was a great year for me--busier and shorter than 2009, but with even more fun and blessings! To 2011!
I spent the last month getting my kids ready for their first art exhibit. I am happy to say it was a success! There were more than 200 works of art done by about 30 kids! Many people in the community--parents, siblings, kids--came to see the art (the free snack offer helped a little haha). A lot of the artists were giving tours to visitors--I was so proud to see them explaining and showing off their work. They were all really proud of what they had done! Thank you to all who supported me! I have big plans for next year--a field trip, a family art night, and another exhibit. I'm a little nervous about the work ahead of me, but I know it'll go by in a flash. Check out the photos from the exhibit at the link below:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2647651&id=920832&l=a2fbb5fd3c
The kids' Christmas party was awesome! Last year we had a performance by a local Michael Jackson impersonator. THIS year we had a performance by yours truly and the other girls---performing Justin Bieber! There's a long story behind this, but basically JB is coming to Santo Domingo for a concert in April, so we decided to teach the kids the song (in English) and make a music video to entice Justin to come visit, or donate money, or give us free tickets haha. It's a little crazy but the results are hilarious and you should see the video in the next couple of months. Anyways, the Americanas performed Baby for the kids and they loved it. We also had dance contests for the kids. They really know how to have fun.
What else? Oh yeah, we also all had head lice for three weeks--it was hell. Every night we were nit-picking, ironing, shampooing our hair. I got it last year too but I got rid of it pretty quickly. I don't even want to talk about it--it was so awful to get rid of. Never again! I keep the lice heads at arms length now haha.
On the home front, we started celebrating Christmas in October. We made a fireplace, fire, and stockings! It was a nice way to spend hours and hours on the weekends haha and to get excited to come home. We all came back to the states for Christmas. It's FREEZING and a little strange being home but it's nice preparation for leaving for good in June. I'm trying to enjoy the time with family and get a head start on grad school applications--so far I'm applying to elementary ed grad programs in Chicago and Boston--I'll keep you posted!
I hope everyone is celebrating a joyful Christmas and getting ready for a new year! 2010 was a great year for me--busier and shorter than 2009, but with even more fun and blessings! To 2011!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Sticking to it
My art classes are going really well. It's exciting to be able to meet with them so frequently (an hour and a half Mo-Thurs) because we get to do so many cool projects and we can advance pretty quickly. It's a little scary because it involves a lot of planning and materials but things are smooth sailing for now. As to be expected when working with teenagers, I make new friends and enemies every day, and no day is like the one before it. But, reflecting over the past month of class with them I can definitely say that their confidence level and commitment to their work has grown. I am working on putting their art on www.artsonia.com, which features children's art. I have over thirty kids and hundreds of pieces already, so it will take me a while to get it all up, but starting tomorrow you'll be able to view at least the first few pieces they've done. Go to the website and do a search for the school: Centro Educativo Santo Ninio Jesus. Please let me know what you think! The kids are excited to have their work on the internet, even though they can't see it!
Seeing some of my art students' disabilities (I'm thinking of a few of my students aged 12-13)—unable to use scissors well, no understanding of how to use a ruler, no concept of basic shapes—makes me realize how important early childhood education is, especially when there is no learning or example in the home. The kids we have now in pre-k can cut equally well as some of my pre-teen art students (when they were pre-k age our school was only working with older kids). Pre-k is not just babysitting, although it often just feels like crowd control. They are sponges and every simple exercise with them is preparing them for school—not just learning their numbers but also developing their motor skills so that they can write well. That is why I really believe in Montessori for the youngest kids. When the new kids came in this year they could not carry the materials (many of which are on little trays) without dropping them or breaking them. Now, two months later, they can not only carry the materials but they can do them. Although it's not my favorite age group (teaching-wise) I am enjoying watching them grow in small steps. It's also nice just knowing they have examples of caring adults every day. Although we do have many parents who care deeply for their children and even bring them to school (trust me, here that's considered over and above, even for four year-olds), we have many kids living in violent and unstable homes. Last week Luzmia showed me her hand that looked like it had scratches on it. She said, “Look, Profe, my mom bit me.” We also have a really special case of a girl named Diana. She is barely four years old and uncontrollable, but we let her come because of her home situation. The father is very violent towards the mother, and the mother is in and out of the picture (leaving the kids with the father) for this reason. Many of our kids have mouths but she has made comments like, “If you touch me I'm going to kill you!” and “Shut up, you f*ing crazy.” It's shocking and scary but also very hopeful watching kids like her grow in our school. These two years of pre-school and kindergarten that we offer them are going to pay off in the long run. I have no doubt in my mind.
In other news, I haven't been able to teach women like last year—I have just been visiting with them. I get out later from school now that I am working with the teenagers so it leaves me little time to teach before dark. But I've enjoyed visiting and having friends there—they teach me everything: how to cook, how to braid, how to speak Kreyol. They are giving me class.
One of my close friends in the batey Dichosa (Elizabeth) who I taught and talked a lot about last year has recently been having a lot of trouble. Since I have been back she has been feeling ill and been getting all sorts of tests to find out what was wrong. This week she found out that she has Tuberculosis. She is very upset but that isn't even the upsetting part.
Let me back up a little bit. Once I got back I started hearing about this woman pastor who had just moved into the batey and started a church. The few people who used to come to the Catholic liturgy were now going to her church. Many of the teenagers converted and I came back to see them in skirts (here women evangelicals only wear skirts). Most of the people in the batey are evangelical, but there are about three or four churches in the batey, so it was a surprise to see that everyone had started going to this pastora. I had heard a little anti-Catholic sentiment (which we hear very little of normally because of all that the sisters do in the community) and also a lot about some video of a little girl who testified that she went to hell and saw Michael Jackson there (I know, it's scary what people with little education will believe). So I was unsure of what to think about this pastora. Dichosa's husband and son are evangelical, but Dichosa is nominally Catholic and doesn't go to services with them. So this past week, right after Dichosa had found out about her illness, the pastora told her that the Holy Spirit had told her that Dichosa had incurable cancer as a punishment from God and that she shouldn't bother taking any medicine. Dichosa has been so upset—scared that this might be true and unsure what to do. Melania (her sister and other friend of mine) almost hanged herself in reaction to hearing that her younger sister was going to die. Dichosa is one of the many smart women I've met there and luckily she turned to our clinic and to Anita (a sister here) with her doubts and fears. We are doing everything to help her—giving her the treatment she needs to live healthily with TB and getting her psychological help to deal with this pastora comment.
This has become a batey-wide scandal. Aside from the converted masses, other evangelicals are angry at the pastora's use of fear to convert people and now her presumptious declarations. Anita is talking with the prominent pastors in the community to arrange a meeting with her (excluding Anita of course—bad idea to put the Catholic in the mix). I feel awful for what Dichosa and her family has been through this week. Please keep her and this community in your prayers.
I posted (very few) photos on facebook—check out the link when you have a chance:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2624490&id=920832&l=46174a891b
Seeing some of my art students' disabilities (I'm thinking of a few of my students aged 12-13)—unable to use scissors well, no understanding of how to use a ruler, no concept of basic shapes—makes me realize how important early childhood education is, especially when there is no learning or example in the home. The kids we have now in pre-k can cut equally well as some of my pre-teen art students (when they were pre-k age our school was only working with older kids). Pre-k is not just babysitting, although it often just feels like crowd control. They are sponges and every simple exercise with them is preparing them for school—not just learning their numbers but also developing their motor skills so that they can write well. That is why I really believe in Montessori for the youngest kids. When the new kids came in this year they could not carry the materials (many of which are on little trays) without dropping them or breaking them. Now, two months later, they can not only carry the materials but they can do them. Although it's not my favorite age group (teaching-wise) I am enjoying watching them grow in small steps. It's also nice just knowing they have examples of caring adults every day. Although we do have many parents who care deeply for their children and even bring them to school (trust me, here that's considered over and above, even for four year-olds), we have many kids living in violent and unstable homes. Last week Luzmia showed me her hand that looked like it had scratches on it. She said, “Look, Profe, my mom bit me.” We also have a really special case of a girl named Diana. She is barely four years old and uncontrollable, but we let her come because of her home situation. The father is very violent towards the mother, and the mother is in and out of the picture (leaving the kids with the father) for this reason. Many of our kids have mouths but she has made comments like, “If you touch me I'm going to kill you!” and “Shut up, you f*ing crazy.” It's shocking and scary but also very hopeful watching kids like her grow in our school. These two years of pre-school and kindergarten that we offer them are going to pay off in the long run. I have no doubt in my mind.
In other news, I haven't been able to teach women like last year—I have just been visiting with them. I get out later from school now that I am working with the teenagers so it leaves me little time to teach before dark. But I've enjoyed visiting and having friends there—they teach me everything: how to cook, how to braid, how to speak Kreyol. They are giving me class.
One of my close friends in the batey Dichosa (Elizabeth) who I taught and talked a lot about last year has recently been having a lot of trouble. Since I have been back she has been feeling ill and been getting all sorts of tests to find out what was wrong. This week she found out that she has Tuberculosis. She is very upset but that isn't even the upsetting part.
Let me back up a little bit. Once I got back I started hearing about this woman pastor who had just moved into the batey and started a church. The few people who used to come to the Catholic liturgy were now going to her church. Many of the teenagers converted and I came back to see them in skirts (here women evangelicals only wear skirts). Most of the people in the batey are evangelical, but there are about three or four churches in the batey, so it was a surprise to see that everyone had started going to this pastora. I had heard a little anti-Catholic sentiment (which we hear very little of normally because of all that the sisters do in the community) and also a lot about some video of a little girl who testified that she went to hell and saw Michael Jackson there (I know, it's scary what people with little education will believe). So I was unsure of what to think about this pastora. Dichosa's husband and son are evangelical, but Dichosa is nominally Catholic and doesn't go to services with them. So this past week, right after Dichosa had found out about her illness, the pastora told her that the Holy Spirit had told her that Dichosa had incurable cancer as a punishment from God and that she shouldn't bother taking any medicine. Dichosa has been so upset—scared that this might be true and unsure what to do. Melania (her sister and other friend of mine) almost hanged herself in reaction to hearing that her younger sister was going to die. Dichosa is one of the many smart women I've met there and luckily she turned to our clinic and to Anita (a sister here) with her doubts and fears. We are doing everything to help her—giving her the treatment she needs to live healthily with TB and getting her psychological help to deal with this pastora comment.
This has become a batey-wide scandal. Aside from the converted masses, other evangelicals are angry at the pastora's use of fear to convert people and now her presumptious declarations. Anita is talking with the prominent pastors in the community to arrange a meeting with her (excluding Anita of course—bad idea to put the Catholic in the mix). I feel awful for what Dichosa and her family has been through this week. Please keep her and this community in your prayers.
I posted (very few) photos on facebook—check out the link when you have a chance:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2624490&id=920832&l=46174a891b
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Here we go again!
I am happy to report that my first five weeks back in the Dominican Republic have been going smoothly. It feels great to come back to something familiar, but there are also a lot of changes this year that make every day different!
I had spent my spring and summer planning an arts class for the teenagers in the batey. I had noticed that some kids really had a talent for the arts but no training or exposure to it. I also thought it would be a great way for them to build their self-confidence and release stress. I've just finished my first two weeks of art classes, and they're actually going really well. The materials that generous donors have helped me buy are quality and I really think it makes a difference in the way the kids are valuing and working on their art. I have several truly talented kids. It's amazing the ability they have without any exposure to the arts. I've also had lots of surprises. I have far more kids than I expected (one of my classes has only about 9 kids but the other has about 20). We don't have enough space (let alone chairs) but we're making it work somehow. On top of that I have to balance my art lessons with helping another group of kids who enters at the same time with their homework. I've been doing elementary art projects (geared towards 3-5th grade), and even though my students are from 11-17 years old, they're finding it difficult to follow simple directions. One of my students (age 13) had trouble drawing triangles. My classes have required a lot of planning and preparation on top of my other duties as a normal teacher but I think a lot of wonderful things can come of it. Please pray for my students and me—I am not the most ept person for the job but I really want them to have this opportunity.
This is also my first year working with the pre-school and kindergarten children. Last year I had my special class with older kids while the younger kids came. I prefer working with older kids, but this has certainly been an eye-opening experience. These kids are nuts. On top of that, the government has required that the school day be four hours, even for our kids who are not even four years old. It's brutal. Most of my time is spent chasing kids, getting bitten, sitting them down, and asking them not to punch other kids. We even have to kick kids out—can you imagine kicking five-year-olds out of school in the states? Most of the kids are out of control, but we have quite a few kids who also have severe special needs such as Down syndrome, a complete lack of socialization from home (so no ability to talk or interact with others). We even have a kid we think is schizophrenic. I don't know what he is but he is something. Anyways, it is a tough job, and it is definitely not my calling. I love little children, but playing with them is a lot more fun than teaching them. Anyhow, I'm doing the best that I can, and as nuts as it is, it's often hard not to laugh. One of the little ones insisted that his name was niňo (child). We found out that his real name is Luis Miguel but he won't respond to it—apparently no one refers to him by any name. Another every day occurrence is watching a kid walking around or working with his pants around his ankles since none of their pants fit. A couple of our kids' uniform shirts literally go down past their knees—even more hilarious.
In addition to the changes at the school, we have two new volunteers here! One of them is my good friend Sarah from BU, and another is Martha, an elementary teacher from Wisconsin. They're adjusting really well to life here, and we're getting along really well. I think it's going to be a great year!!! Keep us in your prayers!
I had spent my spring and summer planning an arts class for the teenagers in the batey. I had noticed that some kids really had a talent for the arts but no training or exposure to it. I also thought it would be a great way for them to build their self-confidence and release stress. I've just finished my first two weeks of art classes, and they're actually going really well. The materials that generous donors have helped me buy are quality and I really think it makes a difference in the way the kids are valuing and working on their art. I have several truly talented kids. It's amazing the ability they have without any exposure to the arts. I've also had lots of surprises. I have far more kids than I expected (one of my classes has only about 9 kids but the other has about 20). We don't have enough space (let alone chairs) but we're making it work somehow. On top of that I have to balance my art lessons with helping another group of kids who enters at the same time with their homework. I've been doing elementary art projects (geared towards 3-5th grade), and even though my students are from 11-17 years old, they're finding it difficult to follow simple directions. One of my students (age 13) had trouble drawing triangles. My classes have required a lot of planning and preparation on top of my other duties as a normal teacher but I think a lot of wonderful things can come of it. Please pray for my students and me—I am not the most ept person for the job but I really want them to have this opportunity.
This is also my first year working with the pre-school and kindergarten children. Last year I had my special class with older kids while the younger kids came. I prefer working with older kids, but this has certainly been an eye-opening experience. These kids are nuts. On top of that, the government has required that the school day be four hours, even for our kids who are not even four years old. It's brutal. Most of my time is spent chasing kids, getting bitten, sitting them down, and asking them not to punch other kids. We even have to kick kids out—can you imagine kicking five-year-olds out of school in the states? Most of the kids are out of control, but we have quite a few kids who also have severe special needs such as Down syndrome, a complete lack of socialization from home (so no ability to talk or interact with others). We even have a kid we think is schizophrenic. I don't know what he is but he is something. Anyways, it is a tough job, and it is definitely not my calling. I love little children, but playing with them is a lot more fun than teaching them. Anyhow, I'm doing the best that I can, and as nuts as it is, it's often hard not to laugh. One of the little ones insisted that his name was niňo (child). We found out that his real name is Luis Miguel but he won't respond to it—apparently no one refers to him by any name. Another every day occurrence is watching a kid walking around or working with his pants around his ankles since none of their pants fit. A couple of our kids' uniform shirts literally go down past their knees—even more hilarious.
In addition to the changes at the school, we have two new volunteers here! One of them is my good friend Sarah from BU, and another is Martha, an elementary teacher from Wisconsin. They're adjusting really well to life here, and we're getting along really well. I think it's going to be a great year!!! Keep us in your prayers!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The Last--Aventura Style (as in not the very last, but the last for now)
My time this year is up! The year ended on a beautiful note with a field trip to the beach. Only two of our kids had been to the beach before, and they were all excited and well-behaved. I spent the bus ride listening to kids reading signs “Profe, that says ‘supermarket’” and teaching the kids about stoplights (“Yes, you have to stop on red.”) My favorite part was when we got to the coast and the kids could see the ocean. As soon as the ocean was out of sight, Paulino (9) would say, “The ocean ran out” and I repeatedly had to explain that the ocean doesn’t run out and that it’s there even if we don’t see it. It was such a good day. These kids deserve so much more than they have, and I was happy we could give them a good day. Below are some lists summing up the year!!!!
Funniest moments
-Times with our Ethiopian neighbor friend. He’s a doctor doing his residency here through the World Health Organization and he lives up the street from us. He does not believe in evolution or dinosaurs, though we are hoping to show him Jurassic Park soon. When we asked if he was going to hang out with his friends, he assured us he was not going to hang out, later explaining to us that he thought “to hang out” had a connotation of drug use. We have had many moments like this.
-convincing some new Dominican friends that Leah was actually America Ferrara (actress from Ugly Betty). She bears a shocking resemblance to her.
-Visiting a resort we were not patrons of and getting a free meal and drinks .
-Snorkeling—we were invited by some Peace Corps people, under the assumption that some of them were going to snorkel and others dive. In actuality, all of them were diving, and only Leah and I were snorkeling. So we were placed in a group of a family of snorkelers, and the group guide kept calling the family to lunch or to snorkel, and we just followed along.
-The kids dancing Michael Jackson.
-Teaching my kids to eat with chopsticks
-While waiting for a bus, we were approached by a deaf motorist. He was part of a group of about ten deaf motorists, and we stumbled along in conversation. When we had to leave to catch the bus, the man signed to us that we call him. And how would that have worked?
-Everything the kids say. They are so funny. I can’t even think of an example, because they say hundreds of funny things every day.
Worst moments
-Death of three year old boy (malnutrition)
-Finding out Yolanda (11 years old) had been repeatedly raped
-Watching parents beat their children
-Seeing toddlers (and babies!) left by themselves in the street.
-Losing my patience with the kids.
-In passing, a mother (who neglects her children) walks by her crying child (with an eye infection) and told me to take her child to the clinic.
-Waking up in the middle of the night because the lights (i.e. the fan) went off and the heat woke me up
-The light going off in the middle of doing laundry
-Getting robbed
-this wasn’t actually that horrible, just annoying because it was the first time in my life that it happened. It was non-confrontational. I was eating fried chicken, and it just happened.
-I only lost my favorite sweater, playing cards, an origami crane, and my keys—all things which can easily be replaced.
-Whenever this song plays (so about every ten minutes):
-lyrics translated to English:
I want an American girl to send me a visa. I want an American girl to take me out of here, and then I’ll ditch her when I get there.
-this song was created so that men could harass us even more on the street.
Illnesses/health problems I’ve witnessed in the batey (death numbers since my arrival):
-malnutrition (2 deaths and several suffering from it)
-head funghus and ring worm (countless infected)
-parasites/amoebas (countless infected)
-conjunctivitis (epidemics break out, it’s really gross)
-black eyes/bruises (countless!!)—many from their parents’ beating them/hitting them with pans/cutting them with knives, you name it
-burns (it’s very common that kids get burned from cooking haha—not funny, just crazy that children cook over charcoal unsupervised)
-sickle cell anemia/anemia (most of the kids are anemic, several with sickle cell)
-cancer (2 deaths)
-dengue
-HIV/AIDS (1 death, I’m aware of a few cases; I suspect there are many more than I’m aware of, but they keep this information very private)
Personal Health Battles
infections (countless!!!!!!!!)
cold x 2
parasites x 2
dehydration!!!!!!!!!!
conjunctivitis
head lice
head funghus (I know, it’s gross)
(never amoebas!)
Funniest/strangest agenda items from our weekly staff meetings
-reminding teachers to make their kids wear underwear so that everything is covered
-telling the kids not to bring us flowers (they pick the trees to death to give us the flowers!)
-how/to whom we can give bread and milk out (this one lasted for a couple of weeks)
Only here moments
-While on a bus, the cobrador (the driver’s assistant/man who collects the money) offers to collect everyone’s trash on the bus (what great service!). He then throws all of it out the window.
-I found a toilet seat floating in the ocean (do you see a theme here?)
-During charades, my fellow (Dominican) teacher acts out a drunk
-Batey kids go to the bathroom on the floor in their house
-Rain means at most a third of normal attendance
-There is a dump nearby the batey where kids find all sorts of goodies to circulate. One of the most popular finds was thousands upon thousands of tattoos. Most recently, an adult in the batey found hundreds of bags of Wendy’s tortilla chips (for salad) and packets of syrup and jam (all expired from the month before). He was selling these from his house. This was a big hit.
Best moments
-Mango season (for a few weeks in may we’ve had more than 20 mangoes drop every day from our tree in the back yard! Only thing better than a mango is a free mango)
-Katrina (1 ½ years old) counting to 4!
- Birth of Melania’s baby. On May 1, I went to the hospital (and waited aaaallll day) to see Albeiro, Melania’s new baby! After repeated attempts to abort him, Albeiro came out on time and perfectly healthy. His birth truly is a miracle.
-Dancing merengue and bachata
-Playing board games and cards (we learned poker this year!) with the girls
-End-of-the-year outings (one with the staff and their families to the beach, another with the kids to the beach). I realized what a blessing it is to work with really good people. People from the batey who work with us were also there, so it was nice to spend time all together. The paseo with the kids goes beyond words.
-Life lessons from Bertha (one of the women I teach). She has a bit of a scandalous past, but she’s a strong woman of faith, mother of ten, and has a great sense of humor and outlook on life.
-Whenever the kids dance Michael Jackson. I know four year-olds who do it better than Michael. I’m serious.
-Time spend with my Kreyol teacher, Michael (11 years old). He came from Haiti about the same time when I got here, but his Spanish is already great. He’s a sweetie and we only just became friends. He’s taught me to say a lot of important phrases (Hurry up! You cheated me! That’s my bread!) .
-Teaching in the afternoon (We generally rotate groups of children every two-three weeks, but I had the privilege of teaching the same group of kids every afternoon all year). I know each of my kids very well and I love them. Three of my kids learned to read this year, and I taught almost all of them to successfully write in cursive. Sometimes I felt as though I wasn’t seeing any improvement, but at the end of the year I recognize how far many kids have come.
-Convincing my kids that our Flat Stanley doll (Florinda) really once was a girl who had been flattened. They are all a little confused about this.
-Singing with the kids. I taught my group “We are the World,” and other kids complained to me that my kids wouldn’t stop singing it—at home or at school.
-On the last day of school, the kids had the opportunity to say thank you to the American teachers (Katie and Amanda) who won’t be coming back next year. They were so beautiful: “Thank you, Profe Katie, for teaching me to read.” One of my kids from the afternoon got confused and thought I was leaving, and she started to cry.
This is it for the year! Next week the four of us are going to Haiti (don’t worry, we are avoiding the Port-au-Prince area) and I’ll be headed home on June 23. I’m returning August 1. Thank you all for your support and prayers this year. I hope everyone has a great summer!
Funniest moments
-Times with our Ethiopian neighbor friend. He’s a doctor doing his residency here through the World Health Organization and he lives up the street from us. He does not believe in evolution or dinosaurs, though we are hoping to show him Jurassic Park soon. When we asked if he was going to hang out with his friends, he assured us he was not going to hang out, later explaining to us that he thought “to hang out” had a connotation of drug use. We have had many moments like this.
-convincing some new Dominican friends that Leah was actually America Ferrara (actress from Ugly Betty). She bears a shocking resemblance to her.
-Visiting a resort we were not patrons of and getting a free meal and drinks .
-Snorkeling—we were invited by some Peace Corps people, under the assumption that some of them were going to snorkel and others dive. In actuality, all of them were diving, and only Leah and I were snorkeling. So we were placed in a group of a family of snorkelers, and the group guide kept calling the family to lunch or to snorkel, and we just followed along.
-The kids dancing Michael Jackson.
-Teaching my kids to eat with chopsticks
-While waiting for a bus, we were approached by a deaf motorist. He was part of a group of about ten deaf motorists, and we stumbled along in conversation. When we had to leave to catch the bus, the man signed to us that we call him. And how would that have worked?
-Everything the kids say. They are so funny. I can’t even think of an example, because they say hundreds of funny things every day.
Worst moments
-Death of three year old boy (malnutrition)
-Finding out Yolanda (11 years old) had been repeatedly raped
-Watching parents beat their children
-Seeing toddlers (and babies!) left by themselves in the street.
-Losing my patience with the kids.
-In passing, a mother (who neglects her children) walks by her crying child (with an eye infection) and told me to take her child to the clinic.
-Waking up in the middle of the night because the lights (i.e. the fan) went off and the heat woke me up
-The light going off in the middle of doing laundry
-Getting robbed
-this wasn’t actually that horrible, just annoying because it was the first time in my life that it happened. It was non-confrontational. I was eating fried chicken, and it just happened.
-I only lost my favorite sweater, playing cards, an origami crane, and my keys—all things which can easily be replaced.
-Whenever this song plays (so about every ten minutes):
-lyrics translated to English:
I want an American girl to send me a visa. I want an American girl to take me out of here, and then I’ll ditch her when I get there.
-this song was created so that men could harass us even more on the street.
Illnesses/health problems I’ve witnessed in the batey (death numbers since my arrival):
-malnutrition (2 deaths and several suffering from it)
-head funghus and ring worm (countless infected)
-parasites/amoebas (countless infected)
-conjunctivitis (epidemics break out, it’s really gross)
-black eyes/bruises (countless!!)—many from their parents’ beating them/hitting them with pans/cutting them with knives, you name it
-burns (it’s very common that kids get burned from cooking haha—not funny, just crazy that children cook over charcoal unsupervised)
-sickle cell anemia/anemia (most of the kids are anemic, several with sickle cell)
-cancer (2 deaths)
-dengue
-HIV/AIDS (1 death, I’m aware of a few cases; I suspect there are many more than I’m aware of, but they keep this information very private)
Personal Health Battles
infections (countless!!!!!!!!)
cold x 2
parasites x 2
dehydration!!!!!!!!!!
conjunctivitis
head lice
head funghus (I know, it’s gross)
(never amoebas!)
Funniest/strangest agenda items from our weekly staff meetings
-reminding teachers to make their kids wear underwear so that everything is covered
-telling the kids not to bring us flowers (they pick the trees to death to give us the flowers!)
-how/to whom we can give bread and milk out (this one lasted for a couple of weeks)
Only here moments
-While on a bus, the cobrador (the driver’s assistant/man who collects the money) offers to collect everyone’s trash on the bus (what great service!). He then throws all of it out the window.
-I found a toilet seat floating in the ocean (do you see a theme here?)
-During charades, my fellow (Dominican) teacher acts out a drunk
-Batey kids go to the bathroom on the floor in their house
-Rain means at most a third of normal attendance
-There is a dump nearby the batey where kids find all sorts of goodies to circulate. One of the most popular finds was thousands upon thousands of tattoos. Most recently, an adult in the batey found hundreds of bags of Wendy’s tortilla chips (for salad) and packets of syrup and jam (all expired from the month before). He was selling these from his house. This was a big hit.
Best moments
-Mango season (for a few weeks in may we’ve had more than 20 mangoes drop every day from our tree in the back yard! Only thing better than a mango is a free mango)
-Katrina (1 ½ years old) counting to 4!
- Birth of Melania’s baby. On May 1, I went to the hospital (and waited aaaallll day) to see Albeiro, Melania’s new baby! After repeated attempts to abort him, Albeiro came out on time and perfectly healthy. His birth truly is a miracle.
-Dancing merengue and bachata
-Playing board games and cards (we learned poker this year!) with the girls
-End-of-the-year outings (one with the staff and their families to the beach, another with the kids to the beach). I realized what a blessing it is to work with really good people. People from the batey who work with us were also there, so it was nice to spend time all together. The paseo with the kids goes beyond words.
-Life lessons from Bertha (one of the women I teach). She has a bit of a scandalous past, but she’s a strong woman of faith, mother of ten, and has a great sense of humor and outlook on life.
-Whenever the kids dance Michael Jackson. I know four year-olds who do it better than Michael. I’m serious.
-Time spend with my Kreyol teacher, Michael (11 years old). He came from Haiti about the same time when I got here, but his Spanish is already great. He’s a sweetie and we only just became friends. He’s taught me to say a lot of important phrases (Hurry up! You cheated me! That’s my bread!) .
-Teaching in the afternoon (We generally rotate groups of children every two-three weeks, but I had the privilege of teaching the same group of kids every afternoon all year). I know each of my kids very well and I love them. Three of my kids learned to read this year, and I taught almost all of them to successfully write in cursive. Sometimes I felt as though I wasn’t seeing any improvement, but at the end of the year I recognize how far many kids have come.
-Convincing my kids that our Flat Stanley doll (Florinda) really once was a girl who had been flattened. They are all a little confused about this.
-Singing with the kids. I taught my group “We are the World,” and other kids complained to me that my kids wouldn’t stop singing it—at home or at school.
-On the last day of school, the kids had the opportunity to say thank you to the American teachers (Katie and Amanda) who won’t be coming back next year. They were so beautiful: “Thank you, Profe Katie, for teaching me to read.” One of my kids from the afternoon got confused and thought I was leaving, and she started to cry.
This is it for the year! Next week the four of us are going to Haiti (don’t worry, we are avoiding the Port-au-Prince area) and I’ll be headed home on June 23. I’m returning August 1. Thank you all for your support and prayers this year. I hope everyone has a great summer!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Easter—making all things new
Hello everyone! I’ve been back to work for two weeks now after a nice Easter break! I went traveling with fellow volunteer, Amanda. We bummed on the beach, got a lot darker, climbed up to and swam in waterfalls, and ate good Italian pizza (a lot of the beaches here have been taken over by Europeans).
We got back in time for Easter weekend. I went to what is apparently the biggest way of the cross in the country (which happens to be in my neighborhood). It was a little crazy, but interesting. There were trucks carrying the announcers, and the trucks were draped with political posters. To give you some background, EVERYTHING here is about politics. Their faces are everywhere. And, as we’re in a pretty low-income neighborhood, policies aren’t as much of an issue as results. For example, Junior Santos paved our street, so who do you think my neighbors will vote for? Also, trucks go by BLASTING reggeaton music with the words changed to support for the politician. You won’t understand how funny this is until you see and hear it, but to help give you an idea, imagine Obama campaigning with 50 cent songs BLASTING from a truck with his face on it “Obama, your next president, we’re gonna party like I’m your president.” Anyways, to my surprise, they start taking down the pictures of the politicos on the trucks, to emphasize that this is about God, not politics. Along the way (3 hours!), we hit politician stands passing out bags of water and paper fans. One fan had a picture of Jesus and a lamb, and at the bottom it said “Count on Jesus, and count on me!” (with Omar’s campaign symbol and colors).
We spent a really nice Easter Sunday. We went into the batey for the liturgy and then we went to the river with some of the kids. I hadn’t planned on going swimming, but they were too cute it was impossible not to. So I went swimming in my Easter dress haha. Very few of the kids know how to swim so we were trying to get them comfortable in the water, teaching them how to swim and hold their breath. Very cute.
Then afterwards, everyone had told us that people were coming to dance gaga. Gaga is the Dominican term for rara, a dance (supposedly voodoo) celebration that takes place leading up to Easter. To give you a better idea of the general feel of it, the word gaga refers to someone who has a less than normal mental state. It was strange because it was somewhat more organized than I thought it would be—a group of about 40 people came from a nearby community (a former batey, in much better shape than we are, but made up of mostly people of Haitian descent) with t-shirts that said gaga. At first I was a little disappointed because it didn’t seem organic, but it proved interesting. They started dancing in procession-like form, with people with flags at the front, followed by men with homemade pipe instruments/drums and some kind of leader it seems—he had a whip! They were all drinking rum at every chance they got and it was clear they were drunk. They were all chanting and dancing. At one point they reached a tree, where apparently they had buried something, and started dancing around it. At this point a woman from the crowd fell to the ground shaking and then got up and people proceeded to dance around her. I would have probably done the same thing if I had drank as much haha. No, but really, it was very interesting, but just hard to tell between the people who revered the ceremony and those who were just there for the party.
I only have seven weeks of work left. I really can’t believe it! We have lots of plans for the kids, including taking them on a paseo to the beach!!! These kids live on an island in the Caribbean, and most of them haven’t seen the water! I’m sure it’ll be chaotic but I can’t wait to see their faces once they find out (it’s a surprise!).
On the non-kid front, I've really been enjoying my time getting to know the women I teach better. This week, I had a really interesting experience with Melania. As I've mentioned before, not being a mother, and coming from such a different world, it's MUCH harder than I ever would have imagined to defend the children (from their parents' violent and abusive ways). I've been frustrated up to this point in my feeling helpless and unsure of how to do this. So, I was visiting Melania this week, and we were sitting with her daughter, Helen (6). Melania started talking about how she wishes she could just give Helen away--that she's so bad and doesn't listen to her, etc., etc. I kept trying to say that, no, Helen was good, that she is just being a normal six year-old, but during all of this Helen was silent, and then I realized that she was crying. When Melania saw this, she yelled at Helen for crying and sent her to her room with a final comment "que muera." In other words, that she dies. In that moment I prayed that I could defend Helen without ruining my relationship with Melania. And for the first time, I did! I told Melania that she was being unfair to her kids--that you can't expect young children to be perfect. I told her that the way she talks to them (let's not even talk about the way she beats them) makes them feel like she doesn't love them--so how does she expect them to listen? Melania tried to defend herself, saying that one time when she had a head ache Helen was shouting "que muera mi mama, que muera mi mama." In other words, "Helen has said that to me before." I reminded her of her age, and a child's age. Melania also said that her mom was worse. It's clear that the major factor in the way she treats her kids is the way she was brought up, and just not knowing anything else. The next day, Melania saw Katie (fellow volunteer) and told her about what I said. She said that she was embarrassed. I would be naive to think my conversation changed anything about the way she treats her kids. But I was happy that I tried to stand up for the kids, and also that she didn't just blow what I had to say off--that she did listen and process it. I do not want to make her feel embarrassed or judged by me, but if she feels embarrassed for her behavior, good, maybe she'll rethink it.
To close, I have important news. I’ll be staying here another year. The time has flown by, and I have learned so much about myself and how to do my job better, that I would love to have another year starting out with this kind of knowledge already. I love teaching these kids and I want to keep it up now that I have some skills and lots of ideas. And I love so many people in the community—I can’t part with them just yet! Thank you to all of those who made it possible for me to even come for this year. You can be sure that I’ll continue to keep you posted as best as I can.
More pictures:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2514384&id=920832&l=274bd15fdd
We got back in time for Easter weekend. I went to what is apparently the biggest way of the cross in the country (which happens to be in my neighborhood). It was a little crazy, but interesting. There were trucks carrying the announcers, and the trucks were draped with political posters. To give you some background, EVERYTHING here is about politics. Their faces are everywhere. And, as we’re in a pretty low-income neighborhood, policies aren’t as much of an issue as results. For example, Junior Santos paved our street, so who do you think my neighbors will vote for? Also, trucks go by BLASTING reggeaton music with the words changed to support for the politician. You won’t understand how funny this is until you see and hear it, but to help give you an idea, imagine Obama campaigning with 50 cent songs BLASTING from a truck with his face on it “Obama, your next president, we’re gonna party like I’m your president.” Anyways, to my surprise, they start taking down the pictures of the politicos on the trucks, to emphasize that this is about God, not politics. Along the way (3 hours!), we hit politician stands passing out bags of water and paper fans. One fan had a picture of Jesus and a lamb, and at the bottom it said “Count on Jesus, and count on me!” (with Omar’s campaign symbol and colors).
We spent a really nice Easter Sunday. We went into the batey for the liturgy and then we went to the river with some of the kids. I hadn’t planned on going swimming, but they were too cute it was impossible not to. So I went swimming in my Easter dress haha. Very few of the kids know how to swim so we were trying to get them comfortable in the water, teaching them how to swim and hold their breath. Very cute.
Then afterwards, everyone had told us that people were coming to dance gaga. Gaga is the Dominican term for rara, a dance (supposedly voodoo) celebration that takes place leading up to Easter. To give you a better idea of the general feel of it, the word gaga refers to someone who has a less than normal mental state. It was strange because it was somewhat more organized than I thought it would be—a group of about 40 people came from a nearby community (a former batey, in much better shape than we are, but made up of mostly people of Haitian descent) with t-shirts that said gaga. At first I was a little disappointed because it didn’t seem organic, but it proved interesting. They started dancing in procession-like form, with people with flags at the front, followed by men with homemade pipe instruments/drums and some kind of leader it seems—he had a whip! They were all drinking rum at every chance they got and it was clear they were drunk. They were all chanting and dancing. At one point they reached a tree, where apparently they had buried something, and started dancing around it. At this point a woman from the crowd fell to the ground shaking and then got up and people proceeded to dance around her. I would have probably done the same thing if I had drank as much haha. No, but really, it was very interesting, but just hard to tell between the people who revered the ceremony and those who were just there for the party.
I only have seven weeks of work left. I really can’t believe it! We have lots of plans for the kids, including taking them on a paseo to the beach!!! These kids live on an island in the Caribbean, and most of them haven’t seen the water! I’m sure it’ll be chaotic but I can’t wait to see their faces once they find out (it’s a surprise!).
On the non-kid front, I've really been enjoying my time getting to know the women I teach better. This week, I had a really interesting experience with Melania. As I've mentioned before, not being a mother, and coming from such a different world, it's MUCH harder than I ever would have imagined to defend the children (from their parents' violent and abusive ways). I've been frustrated up to this point in my feeling helpless and unsure of how to do this. So, I was visiting Melania this week, and we were sitting with her daughter, Helen (6). Melania started talking about how she wishes she could just give Helen away--that she's so bad and doesn't listen to her, etc., etc. I kept trying to say that, no, Helen was good, that she is just being a normal six year-old, but during all of this Helen was silent, and then I realized that she was crying. When Melania saw this, she yelled at Helen for crying and sent her to her room with a final comment "que muera." In other words, that she dies. In that moment I prayed that I could defend Helen without ruining my relationship with Melania. And for the first time, I did! I told Melania that she was being unfair to her kids--that you can't expect young children to be perfect. I told her that the way she talks to them (let's not even talk about the way she beats them) makes them feel like she doesn't love them--so how does she expect them to listen? Melania tried to defend herself, saying that one time when she had a head ache Helen was shouting "que muera mi mama, que muera mi mama." In other words, "Helen has said that to me before." I reminded her of her age, and a child's age. Melania also said that her mom was worse. It's clear that the major factor in the way she treats her kids is the way she was brought up, and just not knowing anything else. The next day, Melania saw Katie (fellow volunteer) and told her about what I said. She said that she was embarrassed. I would be naive to think my conversation changed anything about the way she treats her kids. But I was happy that I tried to stand up for the kids, and also that she didn't just blow what I had to say off--that she did listen and process it. I do not want to make her feel embarrassed or judged by me, but if she feels embarrassed for her behavior, good, maybe she'll rethink it.
To close, I have important news. I’ll be staying here another year. The time has flown by, and I have learned so much about myself and how to do my job better, that I would love to have another year starting out with this kind of knowledge already. I love teaching these kids and I want to keep it up now that I have some skills and lots of ideas. And I love so many people in the community—I can’t part with them just yet! Thank you to all of those who made it possible for me to even come for this year. You can be sure that I’ll continue to keep you posted as best as I can.
More pictures:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2514384&id=920832&l=274bd15fdd
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Calming down
Life has been calming down since the last time I wrote. The horror stories haven't stopped coming, but I think I'm learning how to process things a little more. I don't even really know that that's true--I just know that I've been more aware of how I react to and process things here. It was easy to me before I wrote last to be aware and yet at the same time not really think about what my kids' home life was like (abuse, neglect, etc.). And yet after witnessing a few beatings, and a little corpse, I think the reality came crashing down on me.
Although certain episodes have really upset me, I have felt so sure of my work (well that's another story--let's just say I've never lost hope!) that it has been easy to keep on smiling and working and being hopeful. But I wonder how one does this kind of work long term. Making sense of things definitely can't be a strategy because it's seemingly impossible. Today I was talking to a young girl Johanny (just turned 15) about her new (parent approved) boyfriend (21). And yet I know this is life here, and I know that as much as we try to drill in their heads the value of an education, that it's a possibility that she will "marry" him in no time, leave school, and start a family. And so instead of frowning at her while she talks about how he's buena gente, I joke with her about how he better know how to cook and like doing dishes. Is that how you approach things? Should I just accept the things I cannot change (immediately, anyhow) and take things lightly? It makes me sick to think like that, but I've found that sometimes here that's the only thing I feel like I can (or have the right) to do. I haven't lost hope about opening these girls' minds to a different life than the one their mothers lead, but today (the same day this conversation with Johanny took place) I found out that one of OUR girls, Irene (13), got married. By OUR, I mean one of the girls who goes to school and comes to the teen homework help group every day. There are plenty of teens in the batey who don't go to school or come to us, but the ones who do we consider mas o menos on the right track. They all seem to have goals to graduate from high school and get good jobs (and many even to go to college). But in these past months, weeks, days, Irene has been saying all of this too. And now she's married. I don't know who she's married to, or how this all came to be, but I do know that most likely it's only a matter of time before she gets pregnant and leaves school.
Sometimes I feel like it's good enough if I can smile and listen to a woman or a child who has no one to listen to them--to help them take back their human dignity when their husbands or their parents don't afford them this. And yet when I see a girl like Irene, who seems to have her head screwed on right, get sucked into this cycle, I question whether we're changing anything at all. The work in the clinic seems to be more tangible--curing people's illnesses (sometimes) and keeping people healthy. And yet even as we help give people the health care that any person deserves, I sometimes question whether we're hurting them in the long-run by giving them handouts rather than helping them stand on their own two feet. I don't think it's true. The goal is to get these people healthy and well- (or better-) educated so that they can be empowered and independent. It's worked for some people. But then Irene gets married, or I see undercover cops arrest a man for drug sales as I'm letting the kids out of school, and I think: "Nothing has changed." I somehow continue to feel hopeful and motivated to do my job well, but the reality is that in 12 years little has changed. Maybe that's the mentality you have to have to do this job. That little will change, but that THAT'S what you're working for. That little.
So...I've given you very little substance. Let's see...well, I did turn 23. I was sick on my birthday, per usual, but the following weekend we went to the Aventura concert, which was great. I mean, because they play them non-stop here, and we were pretty far back, it kind of just felt like we were in the colmado (corner store--where they always play really loud music) with 50,000 other people but it was fun.
In other news, Melania found out the sex of her baby--it's a boy!! I'm actually not thrilled haha--I was really hoping for a girl for her. Her boys are pretty inquieto compared to her girl so I thought a girl would be a nice change of pace. Either way, it was a relief that, at 7 months, she actually got a sonograph, and that the baby seems to be healthy, if a little underweight. Early last week, Melania thought her water broke, but she wasn't having contractions and she didn't have money to go to the hospital, so she did nothing. I was so scared for her baby, considering how traumatic this pregnancy has been, but on Thursday the woman she cleans for gave her an advance on her pay to go and get a sonograph. She asked me to go with her and I was so thrilled. I think true friendships could get pretty complicated here, and some are pretty cynical about people wanting to take advantage of the volunteers (or at least getting us to buy them things). I know it's happened, but it's been so nice to not have that be the case with Melania and me. She wanted to pay for my ride, which I refused. But then she bought me a coconut. It was nice to know that she just wanted me (or somebody, anyways) there. And sitting in that waiting room (for three hours!) with a room full of other women (all alone i might add), I was happy that I could be with her. She found out that the baby's umbilical cord was choking him, and that if she had gone to the hospital that day they might have performed an emergency c-section. But miraculously (or not, I'm not really sure how these things work) the baby wiggled his way out of there and is shooting to come out at the end of April. Her name list is a little frightening (Vairo or Albero) but he's healthy for now and I'm grateful for that. She's still very depressed and in a miserable financial situation, but I think she's relieved that he's healthy. I'm praying for some kind of miracle to turn her situation around.
I'm also praying that all of you at home are happy and healthy. Missing you all!! :)
Although certain episodes have really upset me, I have felt so sure of my work (well that's another story--let's just say I've never lost hope!) that it has been easy to keep on smiling and working and being hopeful. But I wonder how one does this kind of work long term. Making sense of things definitely can't be a strategy because it's seemingly impossible. Today I was talking to a young girl Johanny (just turned 15) about her new (parent approved) boyfriend (21). And yet I know this is life here, and I know that as much as we try to drill in their heads the value of an education, that it's a possibility that she will "marry" him in no time, leave school, and start a family. And so instead of frowning at her while she talks about how he's buena gente, I joke with her about how he better know how to cook and like doing dishes. Is that how you approach things? Should I just accept the things I cannot change (immediately, anyhow) and take things lightly? It makes me sick to think like that, but I've found that sometimes here that's the only thing I feel like I can (or have the right) to do. I haven't lost hope about opening these girls' minds to a different life than the one their mothers lead, but today (the same day this conversation with Johanny took place) I found out that one of OUR girls, Irene (13), got married. By OUR, I mean one of the girls who goes to school and comes to the teen homework help group every day. There are plenty of teens in the batey who don't go to school or come to us, but the ones who do we consider mas o menos on the right track. They all seem to have goals to graduate from high school and get good jobs (and many even to go to college). But in these past months, weeks, days, Irene has been saying all of this too. And now she's married. I don't know who she's married to, or how this all came to be, but I do know that most likely it's only a matter of time before she gets pregnant and leaves school.
Sometimes I feel like it's good enough if I can smile and listen to a woman or a child who has no one to listen to them--to help them take back their human dignity when their husbands or their parents don't afford them this. And yet when I see a girl like Irene, who seems to have her head screwed on right, get sucked into this cycle, I question whether we're changing anything at all. The work in the clinic seems to be more tangible--curing people's illnesses (sometimes) and keeping people healthy. And yet even as we help give people the health care that any person deserves, I sometimes question whether we're hurting them in the long-run by giving them handouts rather than helping them stand on their own two feet. I don't think it's true. The goal is to get these people healthy and well- (or better-) educated so that they can be empowered and independent. It's worked for some people. But then Irene gets married, or I see undercover cops arrest a man for drug sales as I'm letting the kids out of school, and I think: "Nothing has changed." I somehow continue to feel hopeful and motivated to do my job well, but the reality is that in 12 years little has changed. Maybe that's the mentality you have to have to do this job. That little will change, but that THAT'S what you're working for. That little.
So...I've given you very little substance. Let's see...well, I did turn 23. I was sick on my birthday, per usual, but the following weekend we went to the Aventura concert, which was great. I mean, because they play them non-stop here, and we were pretty far back, it kind of just felt like we were in the colmado (corner store--where they always play really loud music) with 50,000 other people but it was fun.
In other news, Melania found out the sex of her baby--it's a boy!! I'm actually not thrilled haha--I was really hoping for a girl for her. Her boys are pretty inquieto compared to her girl so I thought a girl would be a nice change of pace. Either way, it was a relief that, at 7 months, she actually got a sonograph, and that the baby seems to be healthy, if a little underweight. Early last week, Melania thought her water broke, but she wasn't having contractions and she didn't have money to go to the hospital, so she did nothing. I was so scared for her baby, considering how traumatic this pregnancy has been, but on Thursday the woman she cleans for gave her an advance on her pay to go and get a sonograph. She asked me to go with her and I was so thrilled. I think true friendships could get pretty complicated here, and some are pretty cynical about people wanting to take advantage of the volunteers (or at least getting us to buy them things). I know it's happened, but it's been so nice to not have that be the case with Melania and me. She wanted to pay for my ride, which I refused. But then she bought me a coconut. It was nice to know that she just wanted me (or somebody, anyways) there. And sitting in that waiting room (for three hours!) with a room full of other women (all alone i might add), I was happy that I could be with her. She found out that the baby's umbilical cord was choking him, and that if she had gone to the hospital that day they might have performed an emergency c-section. But miraculously (or not, I'm not really sure how these things work) the baby wiggled his way out of there and is shooting to come out at the end of April. Her name list is a little frightening (Vairo or Albero) but he's healthy for now and I'm grateful for that. She's still very depressed and in a miserable financial situation, but I think she's relieved that he's healthy. I'm praying for some kind of miracle to turn her situation around.
I'm also praying that all of you at home are happy and healthy. Missing you all!! :)
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Seguimos Luchando
Sadly, I have very little good to write about it. That’s not true—I’m continuing to love my work here and the kids, there have been great moments seeing them understand a concept or write a word, but since I last wrote too many horrible things have happened, and I feel compelled to share them with you.
I’ve been through phases here about how I perceive the poverty in the batey. My first realization was that there is a range of poverty in the batey---from people who eat a paste of flour and water to people who have DVD players (although I only know of two). Some visitors have commented that the situation in the batey didn’t seem as bad as they had imagined. But my second realization was that even if most of the people have food and shelter, poverty is about more than resources available and subsistence—it’s also about a lack of choice. No documents, no work (that’s not slave labor), no education, no way to break the cycle. Even if a family can afford to feed its children, that doesn’t give their children a chance at a better life. So my third observation is that poverty is more about resources and choices; it’s also about culture. Here in the batey there is a culture of violence—against children, against women, and against each other. These are all pretty basic concepts, but since coming back from Christmas I have witnessed these three elements of poverty at play so clearly.
RESOURCES
A little over a week ago, they told us once we got to school that a little boy (around 4)had died—from mysterious causes. I saw his brother Alejandro (8), who I’m buddies with, and he seemed to be behaving normally. So I started dancing with him, since I thought he might want someone to take his mind off of it. Then suddenly he said to me, “I can’t dance, profe.” When I asked him why, he told me, “My brother died.”
I asked him if he knew where his brother was, planning on telling him that he went to Heaven. Alejandro said, “Yes. He’s in the house.” When I explained that, “No, he’s an angel in Heaven watching you,” he said, “No, profe, he’s in the house!”
So I went to the house. The little boy was laying on the floor, naked, and they were cleaning him and dressing him. Propped up against the door was a tiny coffin made of little wooden planks stapled together. I just stood with Alejandro and stared in disbelief.
Everyone said that the doctors didn’t know what he had, and that his grandfather had died three months ago. Allusions to voudou and something fishy going on were preeminent. But I quickly found out that his mother brought him to the dispensary two days before his death because he was swollen, with sores all over his body. The doctor told us that he had wet malnutrition—caused by a lack of protein—which manifests itself in a swollen belly, swollen body, and can also come out in the form of body sores.
The only thing more upsetting than this was that four days later, another little boy (about 2-3 years old) also died of malnutrition. In this particular case, the community seemed to know about it---neighbors were saying “We knew this would happen, that kid never ate,” etc., etc. It’s so scary that 1) children are dying from something so preventable, and 2) that in this case community members noticed and didn’t take any action.
Our clinic does run a nutrition program that has had several success stories, but there are children like these that we hadn’t even known about. It’s definitely made us hyper-aware of the situation and we are working to create more awareness, get more children involved in our nutrition program, and educate the kids who come to our school about what a good diet should consist of.
Another death is imminent in Batey Lecheria—the father of many of our children, Ernesto. He stopped taking his AIDS medicine a while ago and is now waiting at home to die. His daughter, Angi (9), took me to visit him. It was dark when I went in the room, so I couldn’t see well, but I couldn’t make him out in the bed until I saw his head. His body didn’t even make a bump under the sheets, and he seemed to be unconscious. His children play outside the house, while their father dies inside the house.
CHOICE
TO FEED YOUR CHILDREN:
Last week, my friend Melania told me that her baby (about 11/2 years old) recently passed out from hunger. Sometimes she just doesn’t have enough money to feed her kids properly. She recently got a job cleaning a house, which will help, but I calculated her earnings and they’re pitiful: she works 12 hours a week and earns an equivalent of $67 per month—meaning she makes about $1.40/hr. So a pregnant woman and her three children are living off of a little more than $2/day. She has a good head on her shoulders—although severely emotionally and mentally troubled. She wants to make good decisions, but her lack of documents and family situation (single mom, three kids, another on the way) does not give her the luxury.
TO WORK
.
Recently two mothers of our kids moved to Argentina, which I was excited about until it was insinuated to me that they were part of a prostitution ring. I’ve recently become more aware of different mothers of her children involved in prostitution. I do not know much about how there work is arranged, but it seems as though some do not see any other option to find work and feed their families, while others see it as the best choice; the choice with the highest gain. On weekend beach trips we’ve taken we’ve seen COUNTLESS prostitutes (ALL Haitian women) with older European men.
CULTURE
OF VIOLENCE
Our school has a covered patio for an outdoor space. Coconut trees surround the school, so many times they fall directly on roof and it sounds as though a shot went off. This sound normally gets me every time but I always know what it is. Two weeks ago, while some kids were working inside and others were eating snack, we heard that noise, and it didn’t phase me. Then suddenly children were rushing inside saying that it was a shot. The crazy thing was that the kids weren’t even scared, just kind of excited. After a couple of minutes we were informed that it was over and the kids went back outside and continued as usual. This isn’t common (well, for my experience, anyways—clearly the kids were accustomed to the sound). Later we found out was someone shooting at a thief running away. The alleged thief ran into the school/clinic “garage” to try to get away from the man. Thankfully, the door was locked that goes from the garage directly into the school. The week before I had to throw out (I realize this sounds horrible outside of our situation—I had to “invite her to leave”) a badly behaving student, and within five minutes she had gotten back in. This is because often our handy man leaves the door from the garage to the school open. We asked him to be more careful and because of that the door—that the thief apparently was hoping to get through to get away from the armed man—was closed. If it hadn’t been closed he could have come right into our school. Thank God!
OF VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN
Today we got the worst news of all. One of our girls, Yolanda (12), has been repeatedly raped by a father of two of our children (Carla, 8, y Carlos, 10) for the past few months. She cleans his house regularly and apparently a lot of the community knew about this, but only last night a child saw it happening and told Yolanda’s mother, who wasn’t aware before. Yolanda has been vomiting and having dizzy spells and we are worried that she is pregnant. She is so nervous—she has almost chewed her nails off. I pray that this isn’t the case. Either way, this girl’s life has changed forever. Although I haven’t worked with her in a while, I got to know her pretty well in the beginning of the year. She looks much older than she is, so unfortunately she and other girls in her similar situation are prime targets for sexual abuse and assault. But she’s still such a little girl. When I picture her, I see her zipping through the Montessori materials—she’s a quick study. And then today I saw her, twelve years-old, torn apart, and possibly a mother-to-be. Some of the men in the community were overheard talking about how it’s not rape because it’s been going on for a while, and how she’s even talked to them in a flirtatious way. On the other hand, her step-father and other men in the community say that they are waiting for her rapist to come out (he’s been holed up in his house all day) to kill him.
HOPE
I see this community as a thriving one in many ways—families care for unwanted children, teenagers care for their younger brothers and sisters, women are seeking us out to learn to read and write so they can help their kids, and we have kids who learn to read every day. But in the last couple of weeks we’ve seen so much of the dark side of the batey. Mientras tanto, seguimos luchando. Please continue to pray for this community.
I’ve been through phases here about how I perceive the poverty in the batey. My first realization was that there is a range of poverty in the batey---from people who eat a paste of flour and water to people who have DVD players (although I only know of two). Some visitors have commented that the situation in the batey didn’t seem as bad as they had imagined. But my second realization was that even if most of the people have food and shelter, poverty is about more than resources available and subsistence—it’s also about a lack of choice. No documents, no work (that’s not slave labor), no education, no way to break the cycle. Even if a family can afford to feed its children, that doesn’t give their children a chance at a better life. So my third observation is that poverty is more about resources and choices; it’s also about culture. Here in the batey there is a culture of violence—against children, against women, and against each other. These are all pretty basic concepts, but since coming back from Christmas I have witnessed these three elements of poverty at play so clearly.
RESOURCES
A little over a week ago, they told us once we got to school that a little boy (around 4)had died—from mysterious causes. I saw his brother Alejandro (8), who I’m buddies with, and he seemed to be behaving normally. So I started dancing with him, since I thought he might want someone to take his mind off of it. Then suddenly he said to me, “I can’t dance, profe.” When I asked him why, he told me, “My brother died.”
I asked him if he knew where his brother was, planning on telling him that he went to Heaven. Alejandro said, “Yes. He’s in the house.” When I explained that, “No, he’s an angel in Heaven watching you,” he said, “No, profe, he’s in the house!”
So I went to the house. The little boy was laying on the floor, naked, and they were cleaning him and dressing him. Propped up against the door was a tiny coffin made of little wooden planks stapled together. I just stood with Alejandro and stared in disbelief.
Everyone said that the doctors didn’t know what he had, and that his grandfather had died three months ago. Allusions to voudou and something fishy going on were preeminent. But I quickly found out that his mother brought him to the dispensary two days before his death because he was swollen, with sores all over his body. The doctor told us that he had wet malnutrition—caused by a lack of protein—which manifests itself in a swollen belly, swollen body, and can also come out in the form of body sores.
The only thing more upsetting than this was that four days later, another little boy (about 2-3 years old) also died of malnutrition. In this particular case, the community seemed to know about it---neighbors were saying “We knew this would happen, that kid never ate,” etc., etc. It’s so scary that 1) children are dying from something so preventable, and 2) that in this case community members noticed and didn’t take any action.
Our clinic does run a nutrition program that has had several success stories, but there are children like these that we hadn’t even known about. It’s definitely made us hyper-aware of the situation and we are working to create more awareness, get more children involved in our nutrition program, and educate the kids who come to our school about what a good diet should consist of.
Another death is imminent in Batey Lecheria—the father of many of our children, Ernesto. He stopped taking his AIDS medicine a while ago and is now waiting at home to die. His daughter, Angi (9), took me to visit him. It was dark when I went in the room, so I couldn’t see well, but I couldn’t make him out in the bed until I saw his head. His body didn’t even make a bump under the sheets, and he seemed to be unconscious. His children play outside the house, while their father dies inside the house.
CHOICE
TO FEED YOUR CHILDREN:
Last week, my friend Melania told me that her baby (about 11/2 years old) recently passed out from hunger. Sometimes she just doesn’t have enough money to feed her kids properly. She recently got a job cleaning a house, which will help, but I calculated her earnings and they’re pitiful: she works 12 hours a week and earns an equivalent of $67 per month—meaning she makes about $1.40/hr. So a pregnant woman and her three children are living off of a little more than $2/day. She has a good head on her shoulders—although severely emotionally and mentally troubled. She wants to make good decisions, but her lack of documents and family situation (single mom, three kids, another on the way) does not give her the luxury.
TO WORK
.
Recently two mothers of our kids moved to Argentina, which I was excited about until it was insinuated to me that they were part of a prostitution ring. I’ve recently become more aware of different mothers of her children involved in prostitution. I do not know much about how there work is arranged, but it seems as though some do not see any other option to find work and feed their families, while others see it as the best choice; the choice with the highest gain. On weekend beach trips we’ve taken we’ve seen COUNTLESS prostitutes (ALL Haitian women) with older European men.
CULTURE
OF VIOLENCE
Our school has a covered patio for an outdoor space. Coconut trees surround the school, so many times they fall directly on roof and it sounds as though a shot went off. This sound normally gets me every time but I always know what it is. Two weeks ago, while some kids were working inside and others were eating snack, we heard that noise, and it didn’t phase me. Then suddenly children were rushing inside saying that it was a shot. The crazy thing was that the kids weren’t even scared, just kind of excited. After a couple of minutes we were informed that it was over and the kids went back outside and continued as usual. This isn’t common (well, for my experience, anyways—clearly the kids were accustomed to the sound). Later we found out was someone shooting at a thief running away. The alleged thief ran into the school/clinic “garage” to try to get away from the man. Thankfully, the door was locked that goes from the garage directly into the school. The week before I had to throw out (I realize this sounds horrible outside of our situation—I had to “invite her to leave”) a badly behaving student, and within five minutes she had gotten back in. This is because often our handy man leaves the door from the garage to the school open. We asked him to be more careful and because of that the door—that the thief apparently was hoping to get through to get away from the armed man—was closed. If it hadn’t been closed he could have come right into our school. Thank God!
OF VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN
Today we got the worst news of all. One of our girls, Yolanda (12), has been repeatedly raped by a father of two of our children (Carla, 8, y Carlos, 10) for the past few months. She cleans his house regularly and apparently a lot of the community knew about this, but only last night a child saw it happening and told Yolanda’s mother, who wasn’t aware before. Yolanda has been vomiting and having dizzy spells and we are worried that she is pregnant. She is so nervous—she has almost chewed her nails off. I pray that this isn’t the case. Either way, this girl’s life has changed forever. Although I haven’t worked with her in a while, I got to know her pretty well in the beginning of the year. She looks much older than she is, so unfortunately she and other girls in her similar situation are prime targets for sexual abuse and assault. But she’s still such a little girl. When I picture her, I see her zipping through the Montessori materials—she’s a quick study. And then today I saw her, twelve years-old, torn apart, and possibly a mother-to-be. Some of the men in the community were overheard talking about how it’s not rape because it’s been going on for a while, and how she’s even talked to them in a flirtatious way. On the other hand, her step-father and other men in the community say that they are waiting for her rapist to come out (he’s been holed up in his house all day) to kill him.
HOPE
I see this community as a thriving one in many ways—families care for unwanted children, teenagers care for their younger brothers and sisters, women are seeking us out to learn to read and write so they can help their kids, and we have kids who learn to read every day. But in the last couple of weeks we’ve seen so much of the dark side of the batey. Mientras tanto, seguimos luchando. Please continue to pray for this community.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
2010 and still going....:)
Hello everyone! I’m alive and well in this new year—I’ve just had an event-filled couple of months, per usual. I hope everyone enjoyed Christmas and that this new year is off to a great start. The last couple of weeks leading up to Christmas were busy, busy. We had activities for the kids including a spaghetti (well, espagueti) supper and a Michael Jackson impersonator. I lost a little of my motivation to make lesson plans but I think I was just overexcited for my parents and friends to visit. My parents came on the 23rd in time for festivities. We celebrated in the batey on the 24th with a liturgy and my kids’ Christmas pageant. The pageant was pretty horrible but in the cutest way possible (reading lines taped to a candle, and having to turn the candle to read it, the poor inn-keeper going out onto the stage after Mary and Joseph had skipped his part all together, etc.). The kids were happy and they looked adorable. Check out the pictures at: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2487710&id=920832&l=161ceae0cc. Then we had dinner with the neighbors and enjoyed the sounds of Los Alcarrizos all night long. On Christmas we went to mass with the sisters in the oldest church in the Americas (oooh). From there it was off to the beach. We did nothing for four days but it was great! I was going non-stop for most of my time here that I didn’t realize how exhausted I was. I literally collapsed the first day of vacation—I barely even ate (which you all know is pretty serious for me!) We lounged on beautiful beaches. The water was warm and crystal clear—it was perfect! Then we went into the city for some more relaxation and to ring in the new year. Leah and Katie came into the city to celebrate with us, and we almost missed midnight! We got back to the hotel after dinner and realized it was 11:53 so we ran up to the room to toast and see the (short-lived) fireworks. On the 2nd Leah and my friends Mary and Monica came in and my parents left. Minus some pretty lousy rain, we had a great time relaxing on the beach, catching up on lost time, and showing them around the batey. Now I’m feeling refreshed and excited to go back to work. The following is WAY too long so I figured I’d put up a warning beforehand—but I wrote it before break and I never got a chance to post it!
FRIENDS
One of the women I had planned on teaching, Melania, fell really ill for a while, so I had stopped teaching her. I had told you a little of her story (pregnancy, attempted abortion, “husband” in jail) but other people had all told me this—I hadn’t heard it from her. Then two weeks ago Melania said she was feeling much better and ready to start classes again. She had moved to a house on the other side of the street, and when I asked her why, she launched into a nearly two hour explanation of her relationship with her (now former) husband and how a lot of things had come to be. She told me of how he would beat her, how he had several affairs (once with a ten year old child, which, although I can’t look at it this way, was consensual), how she had gone to jail for him and had spent her savings countless times to bribe officials so they would send him to a better jail.
The most heart-breaking thing was listening to her talk about her children. Evelyn (10 years) has been raised by a friend living up the hill with a much better financial situation—as Melania describes it: “She drinks juice every day!” Once on a walk up the hill, she showed me Evelyn playing outside through the trees. We watched her for a couple of seconds and when I asked if she wanted to say hi she he said, “I don’t like her to see me watching her.” She told me how when her other children (now 5, 3, and 1) were younger everyone would comment on how beautiful and well taken care of they looked—new clothes, hair done nicely. It seems easy to say that nice clothes don’t matter as long as the children have food and are taken care of. But to hear a mother talk about all of the things that she wanted for her children that she couldn’t give was heart-breaking. She talked about how she didn’t love this baby to come (5 months pregnant) and didn’t want him to come into a home without love.
But even with all of the depression she’s been through, she seems hopeful. After attempts at her and the baby’s life, she’s thinking about baby names and expressed fear that her baby would be born with a bad eye because her husband had given her a black eye during the pregnancy (I assured her that wouldn’t affect the baby’s eye---it was equally hard to convince her that beer would affect the baby, even with her assuring me that it was fine because she would pee the beer out—what??). She told me how she realized that she used to beat her children because her husband beat her, and how she wasn’t going to do that anymore (although, she noted, she still has to beat them so they behave, but now it isn’t just in reaction to her husband beating her—one battle at a time). She talked about how she was close to getting documentation (she is not legal even though she was born here and has never been to Haiti), and about realistic goals to get better jobs and eventually get a passport to find work elsewhere. It was so wonderful to listen to the hope in her voice. She’s only twenty-five. She’s experienced so much but she still has a lot of time to make a better life for herself and her children. And she is really smart. This short time with her made me think a lot about how important it is to empower the women in situations like that of the batey. She is smart and wants to do the right thing, but has very little means to do it.
Since then we have been to visit her sister, Elizabeth, who I also teach, in a pica pollo (fried-chicken place) where she just started (and stopped!) working. It’s about a 15 minute ride from the batey, and it was really nice (but weird!) to leave the batey with her and not spend time “in class” ( I’ve done very little teaching, but I think the conversations we have are a lot more helpful to the both of us at this point). We sat and ate and talked. Elizabeth was working more than twelve-hour shifts with no days off. The work didn’t seem strenuous, but she was constantly serving or washing dishes, and the pay wasn’t making it worth her while. She doesn’t have other prospects for work at this time, but thankfully she’s in a situation where she can afford to turn down this degree of working conditions. She is in a much more stable situation than Melania, as I have mentioned before.
I remember being surprised during orientation when a former volunteer described many of the women in the batey as her friends. I don’t know why exactly—I had dreamt of being close to the people in the batey. But I think it was my instinct to think of true friends as standing on equal footing or being at a similar station in life. Thankfully, and for the first time, I’m beginning to make REAL friends with people in a completely different situation (not just with a different background who are at the same point in life as me). It feels a lot more normal than one might think. I anticipate a little trickiness as Elizabeth wants to go places with me (the salon, the club), and I know Melania is in no financial position to do that kind of stuff with me. But I’ll keep you posted .
WEDDING
So, I could go on and on about the wedding, but there is one thing everyone should know.
We were never told what time to get to the reception hall. The invitation said six, but the bride’s sister told us that we could get there around 6:30. We left the house at around 6:40 and we passed their (the bride’s family’s) house and noticed that nobody in the family (including the maid of honor) was even dressed for the wedding. So I breathed a little easier after worrying about being “late.” We got to the hall and waited until EIGHT o’clock to start the wedding. Most of the guests didn’t arrive until 7/7:30, plus we waited for a microphone that never came. Which was a shame because the music from the colmado outside was blasting and made it hard to hear (we couldn’t believe they didn’t talk to them ahead of time about not playing music—well, not so hard to believe I guess—this country is so loud). Aah, what a wedding.
FRIENDS
One of the women I had planned on teaching, Melania, fell really ill for a while, so I had stopped teaching her. I had told you a little of her story (pregnancy, attempted abortion, “husband” in jail) but other people had all told me this—I hadn’t heard it from her. Then two weeks ago Melania said she was feeling much better and ready to start classes again. She had moved to a house on the other side of the street, and when I asked her why, she launched into a nearly two hour explanation of her relationship with her (now former) husband and how a lot of things had come to be. She told me of how he would beat her, how he had several affairs (once with a ten year old child, which, although I can’t look at it this way, was consensual), how she had gone to jail for him and had spent her savings countless times to bribe officials so they would send him to a better jail.
The most heart-breaking thing was listening to her talk about her children. Evelyn (10 years) has been raised by a friend living up the hill with a much better financial situation—as Melania describes it: “She drinks juice every day!” Once on a walk up the hill, she showed me Evelyn playing outside through the trees. We watched her for a couple of seconds and when I asked if she wanted to say hi she he said, “I don’t like her to see me watching her.” She told me how when her other children (now 5, 3, and 1) were younger everyone would comment on how beautiful and well taken care of they looked—new clothes, hair done nicely. It seems easy to say that nice clothes don’t matter as long as the children have food and are taken care of. But to hear a mother talk about all of the things that she wanted for her children that she couldn’t give was heart-breaking. She talked about how she didn’t love this baby to come (5 months pregnant) and didn’t want him to come into a home without love.
But even with all of the depression she’s been through, she seems hopeful. After attempts at her and the baby’s life, she’s thinking about baby names and expressed fear that her baby would be born with a bad eye because her husband had given her a black eye during the pregnancy (I assured her that wouldn’t affect the baby’s eye---it was equally hard to convince her that beer would affect the baby, even with her assuring me that it was fine because she would pee the beer out—what??). She told me how she realized that she used to beat her children because her husband beat her, and how she wasn’t going to do that anymore (although, she noted, she still has to beat them so they behave, but now it isn’t just in reaction to her husband beating her—one battle at a time). She talked about how she was close to getting documentation (she is not legal even though she was born here and has never been to Haiti), and about realistic goals to get better jobs and eventually get a passport to find work elsewhere. It was so wonderful to listen to the hope in her voice. She’s only twenty-five. She’s experienced so much but she still has a lot of time to make a better life for herself and her children. And she is really smart. This short time with her made me think a lot about how important it is to empower the women in situations like that of the batey. She is smart and wants to do the right thing, but has very little means to do it.
Since then we have been to visit her sister, Elizabeth, who I also teach, in a pica pollo (fried-chicken place) where she just started (and stopped!) working. It’s about a 15 minute ride from the batey, and it was really nice (but weird!) to leave the batey with her and not spend time “in class” ( I’ve done very little teaching, but I think the conversations we have are a lot more helpful to the both of us at this point). We sat and ate and talked. Elizabeth was working more than twelve-hour shifts with no days off. The work didn’t seem strenuous, but she was constantly serving or washing dishes, and the pay wasn’t making it worth her while. She doesn’t have other prospects for work at this time, but thankfully she’s in a situation where she can afford to turn down this degree of working conditions. She is in a much more stable situation than Melania, as I have mentioned before.
I remember being surprised during orientation when a former volunteer described many of the women in the batey as her friends. I don’t know why exactly—I had dreamt of being close to the people in the batey. But I think it was my instinct to think of true friends as standing on equal footing or being at a similar station in life. Thankfully, and for the first time, I’m beginning to make REAL friends with people in a completely different situation (not just with a different background who are at the same point in life as me). It feels a lot more normal than one might think. I anticipate a little trickiness as Elizabeth wants to go places with me (the salon, the club), and I know Melania is in no financial position to do that kind of stuff with me. But I’ll keep you posted .
WEDDING
So, I could go on and on about the wedding, but there is one thing everyone should know.
We were never told what time to get to the reception hall. The invitation said six, but the bride’s sister told us that we could get there around 6:30. We left the house at around 6:40 and we passed their (the bride’s family’s) house and noticed that nobody in the family (including the maid of honor) was even dressed for the wedding. So I breathed a little easier after worrying about being “late.” We got to the hall and waited until EIGHT o’clock to start the wedding. Most of the guests didn’t arrive until 7/7:30, plus we waited for a microphone that never came. Which was a shame because the music from the colmado outside was blasting and made it hard to hear (we couldn’t believe they didn’t talk to them ahead of time about not playing music—well, not so hard to believe I guess—this country is so loud). Aah, what a wedding.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Last Weekend.....
On Friday night we had big plans to help a neighbor, Kenya, with her wedding invitations. The weekend before we helped her paint little memento boxes. Mid-painting, Kenya invites us (all FOUR of us) to be her bridesmaids. We hesitate and smile and de facto accept—we weren’t really asked, so how could we decline?? Her family is very close to the sisters—two of the daughters work as teachers in the school and Kenya is one of the sister’s secretaries. However, we barely know Kenya, so it’s definitely a weird situation. You should also be aware that her wedding is on Dec. 19, leaving three weeks for invitation-making and delivery. So Friday night we sit down to invitation-making, which includes mesh, green glitter, and butterflies. It was really horrible. I felt like I was doing an arts and crafts project with my kids.
Saturday morning:
After much discouragement (you can’t go without a Dominican! They’ll rip you off!), I decided to go to the Loz Alcarrizos market—they sell everything from clothes to medicine to fruits and vegetables. I took along an American volunteer visiting from a city on the coast to show her the real Los Alcarrizos. Not a really pleasant place to walk around---really congested, barely any sidewalks—but I like it. My mission was to look for jeans, as mine have gotten significantly holier since being here. After being shown several pairs of playboy bunny jeans (it’s an obsession here, people don’t even know what that bunny means), I found a nice (sans bunny) pair of $7 jeans (never buying jeans in the states again!) While in the dressing room (or behind a sheet), I hear the salesman giving my friend a gift that looks like her, and her responding by asking if she has blonde hair (she has my color hair). When I come out I see that the salesman has gifted her a fake (blonde-haired, blue-eyed) Barbie doll because it looked “exactly like her.” Upon exiting he told us in English, “I wait for you.”
Saturday night: the sequel to bad invitation making. So the first horrible thing about this wedding is that the celebration was scheduled for the night of the Beyonce concert, which Leah and I were determined to go to. Post-Saturday night, however, Leah found out that the concert date had been changed to March! Thank goodness. Two weeks to go until the wedding, and we still have two rehearsals and shopping for green and coral clothing to go. Wish me lots of luck.
Sunday morning
Every Sunday morning (since about a month ago) I have been going into the batey the liturgy and my youth group. There are about 7-8 girls (ages 10-14) who come regularly, which is a huge change from the beginning. I used to hold the group during the week, but attendance was poor. Now that it’s on Sunday I have a regular group and it’s going pretty well. They decided they wanted to put on a Christmas pageant, so we’re in the planning process. I foresee it being a little chaotic but you gotta give the people what they want, right? We are one child short for the number of characters, so I am currently slotted as a shepard. I’m hoping God sends me some other child to spare me from this role, but I’m sure that I’ll provide some entertainment.
After the group, I had promised some of the girls in my group that I would go to the river with them. The river is about a twenty-five minute walk from the batey, and the people go there to bathe and fill up on water when there is none in the batey (for example, right now). The kids love to go to swim and have fun. First, the girls cook spaghetti to bring along. I didn’t bring a THING to the batey that morning, and I hadn’t planned on eating, but they insisted on making food for me to bring along. The people here are so generous. Makes it a little difficult to refuse food you’re pretty sure will make you sick, but I haven’t gotten sick yet!
So, I’m sitting on the porch with the mother while the girls cook. I should mention that this family is doing really well compared to many families in the batey. The father is Dominican, so the girls have all of their papers. They have a four room house for 7 people which is also really incredible. But the mother, Elena, is 30 years old and has five children, the oldest being 14. Not strange for the batey standards, but so hard to grasp. While sitting on the porch a woman comes up and joins us. I quickly realize this is Elena’s mother, but I can’t believe because she looks no older than 45, and EVERYONE in the batey looks older than they are. I haven’t confirmed her age, but I’m almost positive that she’s no more than 15 years older than her daughter. While sitting on the porch I hear a commotion, and suddenly Elena grabs a stick and moves towards it. I stay with Mariano (5 years) to distract him, but I see someone with a machete and kids running away in my direction. I’m still not exactly sure what happened, but I do know that the fight involved Chichi, a woman I tutor, and someone getting their hands cut up by a machete. Just seeing those kids running from a machete was horrifying—how can they not respond with violence if this is what they see everyday?
So we finally head out to the river, and on the way we pick up about fifteen-twenty other kids and a rabid dog. Well, not rabid, but crazy--he had the week before bitten a chunk out of a little girl’s leg. So the walk to the river consisted of frequent scares in which the dog would go crazy and run after us and the children would run and hide. I, meanwhile, was fighting my temptation to put one of the kids in front of me and instead shield the kids. NOT easy, that dog was so scary.
Anyways, we arrived safely at the river. It’s wide and beautiful and lined with rocks. The water seemed to be pretty clean, definitely cleaner than the water we get at our house (how do I measure this? I swallowed some while swimming and I haven’t gotten sick, which would not happen with the water from the street). The river was shallow, knee-length in the deepest parts where we were, but the current was very strong. I was nervous a lot of the time because really young kids (5 years old) came along. The kids were so calm and good and they played so nicely with each other. The girls shared their spaghetti with every single kid there (and me). It was so nice to spend a lot of time with the kids outside of the school. We collected white shiny rocks (called americanas, “because they’re white”), skipped stones, floated down the river, and ate spaghetti. It was such a great afternoon, but it was long, and I was late for a plan to meet friends in the city.
On the way back home, I stopped quickly to pick something up at the school, and ran into Ricardo, one of the most malnourished and neglected children in the batey. He’s on plumpy-nut (peanut butter like meal substitutes, essentially), and he asked me to feed him, so of course I did. I thought it was so crazy that the thing that was “holding me up” was feeding a malnourished child. I had planned to meet a couple of the Dominican profes I teach with in the Colonial Zone for the free concert that’s held every Sunday night. They play a lot of Cuban son music, which we didn’t know how to dance to, but we gave it our best shot, ate fried chicken (they gave us extra pieces that we didn’t pay for…..and we didn’t tell….:)), and ended the night at a car wash.
Not a typical weekend here, but there isn’t really such a thing here. This weekend we’re having a Christmas decorating party in the house. And, of course, we have the first wedding rehearsal. Until next time.....
Saturday morning:
After much discouragement (you can’t go without a Dominican! They’ll rip you off!), I decided to go to the Loz Alcarrizos market—they sell everything from clothes to medicine to fruits and vegetables. I took along an American volunteer visiting from a city on the coast to show her the real Los Alcarrizos. Not a really pleasant place to walk around---really congested, barely any sidewalks—but I like it. My mission was to look for jeans, as mine have gotten significantly holier since being here. After being shown several pairs of playboy bunny jeans (it’s an obsession here, people don’t even know what that bunny means), I found a nice (sans bunny) pair of $7 jeans (never buying jeans in the states again!) While in the dressing room (or behind a sheet), I hear the salesman giving my friend a gift that looks like her, and her responding by asking if she has blonde hair (she has my color hair). When I come out I see that the salesman has gifted her a fake (blonde-haired, blue-eyed) Barbie doll because it looked “exactly like her.” Upon exiting he told us in English, “I wait for you.”
Saturday night: the sequel to bad invitation making. So the first horrible thing about this wedding is that the celebration was scheduled for the night of the Beyonce concert, which Leah and I were determined to go to. Post-Saturday night, however, Leah found out that the concert date had been changed to March! Thank goodness. Two weeks to go until the wedding, and we still have two rehearsals and shopping for green and coral clothing to go. Wish me lots of luck.
Sunday morning
Every Sunday morning (since about a month ago) I have been going into the batey the liturgy and my youth group. There are about 7-8 girls (ages 10-14) who come regularly, which is a huge change from the beginning. I used to hold the group during the week, but attendance was poor. Now that it’s on Sunday I have a regular group and it’s going pretty well. They decided they wanted to put on a Christmas pageant, so we’re in the planning process. I foresee it being a little chaotic but you gotta give the people what they want, right? We are one child short for the number of characters, so I am currently slotted as a shepard. I’m hoping God sends me some other child to spare me from this role, but I’m sure that I’ll provide some entertainment.
After the group, I had promised some of the girls in my group that I would go to the river with them. The river is about a twenty-five minute walk from the batey, and the people go there to bathe and fill up on water when there is none in the batey (for example, right now). The kids love to go to swim and have fun. First, the girls cook spaghetti to bring along. I didn’t bring a THING to the batey that morning, and I hadn’t planned on eating, but they insisted on making food for me to bring along. The people here are so generous. Makes it a little difficult to refuse food you’re pretty sure will make you sick, but I haven’t gotten sick yet!
So, I’m sitting on the porch with the mother while the girls cook. I should mention that this family is doing really well compared to many families in the batey. The father is Dominican, so the girls have all of their papers. They have a four room house for 7 people which is also really incredible. But the mother, Elena, is 30 years old and has five children, the oldest being 14. Not strange for the batey standards, but so hard to grasp. While sitting on the porch a woman comes up and joins us. I quickly realize this is Elena’s mother, but I can’t believe because she looks no older than 45, and EVERYONE in the batey looks older than they are. I haven’t confirmed her age, but I’m almost positive that she’s no more than 15 years older than her daughter. While sitting on the porch I hear a commotion, and suddenly Elena grabs a stick and moves towards it. I stay with Mariano (5 years) to distract him, but I see someone with a machete and kids running away in my direction. I’m still not exactly sure what happened, but I do know that the fight involved Chichi, a woman I tutor, and someone getting their hands cut up by a machete. Just seeing those kids running from a machete was horrifying—how can they not respond with violence if this is what they see everyday?
So we finally head out to the river, and on the way we pick up about fifteen-twenty other kids and a rabid dog. Well, not rabid, but crazy--he had the week before bitten a chunk out of a little girl’s leg. So the walk to the river consisted of frequent scares in which the dog would go crazy and run after us and the children would run and hide. I, meanwhile, was fighting my temptation to put one of the kids in front of me and instead shield the kids. NOT easy, that dog was so scary.
Anyways, we arrived safely at the river. It’s wide and beautiful and lined with rocks. The water seemed to be pretty clean, definitely cleaner than the water we get at our house (how do I measure this? I swallowed some while swimming and I haven’t gotten sick, which would not happen with the water from the street). The river was shallow, knee-length in the deepest parts where we were, but the current was very strong. I was nervous a lot of the time because really young kids (5 years old) came along. The kids were so calm and good and they played so nicely with each other. The girls shared their spaghetti with every single kid there (and me). It was so nice to spend a lot of time with the kids outside of the school. We collected white shiny rocks (called americanas, “because they’re white”), skipped stones, floated down the river, and ate spaghetti. It was such a great afternoon, but it was long, and I was late for a plan to meet friends in the city.
On the way back home, I stopped quickly to pick something up at the school, and ran into Ricardo, one of the most malnourished and neglected children in the batey. He’s on plumpy-nut (peanut butter like meal substitutes, essentially), and he asked me to feed him, so of course I did. I thought it was so crazy that the thing that was “holding me up” was feeding a malnourished child. I had planned to meet a couple of the Dominican profes I teach with in the Colonial Zone for the free concert that’s held every Sunday night. They play a lot of Cuban son music, which we didn’t know how to dance to, but we gave it our best shot, ate fried chicken (they gave us extra pieces that we didn’t pay for…..and we didn’t tell….:)), and ended the night at a car wash.
Not a typical weekend here, but there isn’t really such a thing here. This weekend we’re having a Christmas decorating party in the house. And, of course, we have the first wedding rehearsal. Until next time.....
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Same photo album--new pictures :)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2442634&id=920832&l=198d7bad31
Monday, November 16, 2009
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NmgN2IoXPCE
A video of pictures made by volunteers two years ago about the batey. Some of the photos were taken from projects of that specific year (latrines, nutrition, etc.) that aren't currently going on, but the conditions and people are the same. I'll post soon! (I had trouble linking it, but copy and paste to view)
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
work and play
My apologies for being out of touch! My computer died (and is now nearly fixed) so I've been m.i.a. for the past few weeks.
WORK
One of my favorite times of my week is the time I spend with Guilena. Every session with her has been especially fruitful and memorable. During one session, I brought along Green Eggs and Ham for my next student. Milena (10) started reading it aloud as I was teaching Guilena, and all of her other children gathered around her to listen. Then her husband even came over and kept commenting: “Wow, doesn’t she read well? She is a good reader!” He then explained to me that she had only started going to school three years ago. It was so nice to see her family so proud of her, and the little ones excited about her being able to read. Unfortunately, not all of her siblings have been so quick. Samuel (12) still cannot read, and is on the same reading level as his younger brothers Juli (6) and Johan (8).
During another session, she’s breast-feeding Katrina (13 months) while Johana (3), Joelito (5), and Juli (6) color on the floor with paper and crayons I’ve been bringing lately. I really don’t have to bring anything as a distraction because her children are so CALM (not in school! But in the house I think they’ve adapted to their mother’s health situation—she’s suffered a stroke and (I think) mental illness and she’s very sensitive to loud noise). ANYWAYS, we’re reviewing vowel sounds with flashcards we’ve made. She starts to make the “i-i-i” sound and suddenly Katrina (the baby) lifts up her head and says “i-i-i” and then starts laughing. Then we move on to “a.” Guilena starts to repeat the sound “a-a-a,” and then Katrina lifts her head and starts making the sound. Then the three on the floor chime in with “a”s. Guilena and I got a kick out of it. The kids knew we liked it so they were all giggling. It was so cute and also exciting because at least they’re getting SOME kind of exposure to sounds and letters! My time with Guilena has really shown me how valuable our small and limited services can be to the people in the batey. ALSO, small addition from our session today: a neighbor brought Guilena a small bowl of food for the whole family. She insisted on offering me some, which she always does when they have food, and she actually put the spoon in my mouth. THEN, she scooped spoons into other bowls for her children, Johana (3) eats her spoonful, goes into the corner, pees in the bowl, empties it out onto the floor, and then licks the edge of the bowl. It was so painful to watch. Guilena was aware of what was happening but not looking closely, so I didn’t want to say anything and embarass her incase it was okay with her, but at the same time it was so awful! Oh man, it’s a whole ‘nother world here.
I’ve been becoming closer to Elizabeth, one of the other women I teach, as well. She’s the same age as me (22). She’s definitely a lot more fortunate than other people in the batey. She has a Dominican “husband” (not legally but effectively) with a pretty steady job. For her son’s third birthday (he’s now 4), they had a party with a big cake and music. She showed me pictures—pretty much all of the kids in the batey were there (you couldn’t keep them out—they live on top of each other). She said that she wasn’t sure when they’d be able to celebrate his birthday again, but that they really wanted to do it for him. When the water was out, they didn’t have to go to the river but instead could afford to buy clean water (pretty expensive). I got a striking example a couple of weeks ago to do with the range of economic situations among the people in Batey Lecheria. Getting nails done and going to the salon is a big thing here, and everyone in my neighborhood does it—it’s not a sign of having money if you go to the salon on a regular basis. For the most part, salons do not seem to be a luxury accessible to those who live in the batey. However, Elizabeth goes pretty frequently (once every week or two), and she tells me that it only costs 30 pesos (less than 1 USD) for a pedicure. The same week that she tells me this, Katie found out that Altagracia (mother of 7) had a lump in her breast. A consultation at the dispensary PLUS a prescription would cost 40 pesos (a little over 1 USD), and so she decided she could not afford to go to the dispensary. Luckily, it turned out to be an infection within the next week. One woman has no trouble dropping a dollar once a week to get her nails done, while another was going to let a lump in her breast go unchecked because of the one dollar price barrier. Another strange thing about this range is that sometimes it’s present within a family. Elizabeth lives right next door to her three sisters, their families, her brother, and her mother. Elizabeth and Jaqueline (one of her sisters) both have husbands and one-two children each and are financially stable. Luisa (another sister), however, seems to be a little crazy (we’re not sure if it’s drugs or just a condition) and pretty violent with her kids (i.e. sticking her 4 year-old’s hands in boiling water and hitting her 5 month-old). Melania (the final sister) has three children under the age of 5 and her husband is in jail. She has been sick for more than a month, and I just found out that it’s because she tried to abort her baby (it’s illegal here but apparently she was taking something orally?) and it failed. So now she’s on her way to having her fourth child. I wouldn’t write anything about these people simply for shock value; it just seems like a very strange family dynamic. They all live next door to one another, are always sitting together in their plastic chairs, and seem to help each other out (with childcare, emotional support), but at the same time it doesn’t seem strange that they live in very different realities.
PLAY
Last month I went on a day-trip to Constanza, a beautiful valley in the mountains, with a really interesting group (an 80 year-old visiting nun, two German visitors, a fellow volunteer, and a Dominican family). Our bus driver for school wanted to take us to his hometown. We ended up seeing none of the town or tourist attraction, but we had such a nice time with his family. His entire family lives there (mother, siblings, nieces/nephews). Most of their houses are very simple (well, they’re shacks, but they look pretty good compared to the batey) but they had all of their necessities met. Their houses are right on the river bank so we spent a lot of the afternoon in the river with about 30 nieces and nephews. It was so nice that they have this to themselves! It was clean (and cold!) but beautiful. This is where most of them bathe—it was funny because we were swimming and playing with the kids and then Julio (who we work with) offered us a bar of soap. Anyways, his family was so kind to us. They showed us around—they grow flowers to sell (even to export!)—and they served us lunch. Then we realized that he didn’t even tell his family that he was bringing all of us! They were really kind. I really didn’t want to leave and told Katie that I could see myself living there! I just don’t know what I’d do….also, the mosquitoes (different breed from the ones here—I bled immediately once they bit me) were all over me—my legs were SWOLLEN for the next couple of days. But if I could get past that, I wouldn’t hesitate to live there for a while—it was really beautiful and refreshing to be away from the noise and the heat.
The next weekend we had a volunteer weekend with volunteers from Nuestros Pequenios Hermanos (aa network of orphanages in Latin America) on the beach. We most notable thing about the weekend is where we stayed. We have a rich Dominican contact who owns a beach house and opens her home to us for retreats. This house was literally ON the beach—her yard looked like a resort. Pictures on facebook—it was surreal! The beach it’s on isn’t very notable—not in my guidebook or anything—but it was absolutely pristine. This country is so beautiful—I wish so much that we were closer to the beach (we’re about two hours away—all because of traffic—and Santo Domingo is on the water but doesn’t have a beach :()
Last weekend most of our staff did the Cancer Walk together. There were supposedly 500,000 who did the walk (and I believe it!). Some interesting observations on things that never would have happened in the U.S.
1. My best estimate is that about 75% of the walkers were wearing JEANS. We’re on a tropical island, it’s HOT. I’ve even grown accustomed to wearing jeans to work in the heat, but on a 5k?
2. They ran out of water. Stupidly, we didn’t bring our own, because our friend who had done the walk in the past said that they had stations every half-k with bottles of water. Well, they ran out. People went crazy digging through the abandoned water stations for used bottles with even a little water left—it was kind of scary. Thankfully the station at the very end had water. We thought the walk was a 10k and were getting nervous about making it in the heat without water, but we were relieved when we realized we were at the finish line. Afterwards there was a crazy concert with a lot of famous Dominican singers and groups. It was fun but PACKED and people kept passing out/being dragged out because of the heat—yikes. I’m glad we went and it was a motivating environment but I became aware of some pretty big cultural differences!
I can’t think of much else. This past Sunday I woke up dead—I think I was severely dehydrated—but now I’m back. This upcoming weekend’s a long weekend so we’re heading to a beach on the north coast. After that I’ll definitely be keeping in better touch. I miss you all!
WORK
One of my favorite times of my week is the time I spend with Guilena. Every session with her has been especially fruitful and memorable. During one session, I brought along Green Eggs and Ham for my next student. Milena (10) started reading it aloud as I was teaching Guilena, and all of her other children gathered around her to listen. Then her husband even came over and kept commenting: “Wow, doesn’t she read well? She is a good reader!” He then explained to me that she had only started going to school three years ago. It was so nice to see her family so proud of her, and the little ones excited about her being able to read. Unfortunately, not all of her siblings have been so quick. Samuel (12) still cannot read, and is on the same reading level as his younger brothers Juli (6) and Johan (8).
During another session, she’s breast-feeding Katrina (13 months) while Johana (3), Joelito (5), and Juli (6) color on the floor with paper and crayons I’ve been bringing lately. I really don’t have to bring anything as a distraction because her children are so CALM (not in school! But in the house I think they’ve adapted to their mother’s health situation—she’s suffered a stroke and (I think) mental illness and she’s very sensitive to loud noise). ANYWAYS, we’re reviewing vowel sounds with flashcards we’ve made. She starts to make the “i-i-i” sound and suddenly Katrina (the baby) lifts up her head and says “i-i-i” and then starts laughing. Then we move on to “a.” Guilena starts to repeat the sound “a-a-a,” and then Katrina lifts her head and starts making the sound. Then the three on the floor chime in with “a”s. Guilena and I got a kick out of it. The kids knew we liked it so they were all giggling. It was so cute and also exciting because at least they’re getting SOME kind of exposure to sounds and letters! My time with Guilena has really shown me how valuable our small and limited services can be to the people in the batey. ALSO, small addition from our session today: a neighbor brought Guilena a small bowl of food for the whole family. She insisted on offering me some, which she always does when they have food, and she actually put the spoon in my mouth. THEN, she scooped spoons into other bowls for her children, Johana (3) eats her spoonful, goes into the corner, pees in the bowl, empties it out onto the floor, and then licks the edge of the bowl. It was so painful to watch. Guilena was aware of what was happening but not looking closely, so I didn’t want to say anything and embarass her incase it was okay with her, but at the same time it was so awful! Oh man, it’s a whole ‘nother world here.
I’ve been becoming closer to Elizabeth, one of the other women I teach, as well. She’s the same age as me (22). She’s definitely a lot more fortunate than other people in the batey. She has a Dominican “husband” (not legally but effectively) with a pretty steady job. For her son’s third birthday (he’s now 4), they had a party with a big cake and music. She showed me pictures—pretty much all of the kids in the batey were there (you couldn’t keep them out—they live on top of each other). She said that she wasn’t sure when they’d be able to celebrate his birthday again, but that they really wanted to do it for him. When the water was out, they didn’t have to go to the river but instead could afford to buy clean water (pretty expensive). I got a striking example a couple of weeks ago to do with the range of economic situations among the people in Batey Lecheria. Getting nails done and going to the salon is a big thing here, and everyone in my neighborhood does it—it’s not a sign of having money if you go to the salon on a regular basis. For the most part, salons do not seem to be a luxury accessible to those who live in the batey. However, Elizabeth goes pretty frequently (once every week or two), and she tells me that it only costs 30 pesos (less than 1 USD) for a pedicure. The same week that she tells me this, Katie found out that Altagracia (mother of 7) had a lump in her breast. A consultation at the dispensary PLUS a prescription would cost 40 pesos (a little over 1 USD), and so she decided she could not afford to go to the dispensary. Luckily, it turned out to be an infection within the next week. One woman has no trouble dropping a dollar once a week to get her nails done, while another was going to let a lump in her breast go unchecked because of the one dollar price barrier. Another strange thing about this range is that sometimes it’s present within a family. Elizabeth lives right next door to her three sisters, their families, her brother, and her mother. Elizabeth and Jaqueline (one of her sisters) both have husbands and one-two children each and are financially stable. Luisa (another sister), however, seems to be a little crazy (we’re not sure if it’s drugs or just a condition) and pretty violent with her kids (i.e. sticking her 4 year-old’s hands in boiling water and hitting her 5 month-old). Melania (the final sister) has three children under the age of 5 and her husband is in jail. She has been sick for more than a month, and I just found out that it’s because she tried to abort her baby (it’s illegal here but apparently she was taking something orally?) and it failed. So now she’s on her way to having her fourth child. I wouldn’t write anything about these people simply for shock value; it just seems like a very strange family dynamic. They all live next door to one another, are always sitting together in their plastic chairs, and seem to help each other out (with childcare, emotional support), but at the same time it doesn’t seem strange that they live in very different realities.
PLAY
Last month I went on a day-trip to Constanza, a beautiful valley in the mountains, with a really interesting group (an 80 year-old visiting nun, two German visitors, a fellow volunteer, and a Dominican family). Our bus driver for school wanted to take us to his hometown. We ended up seeing none of the town or tourist attraction, but we had such a nice time with his family. His entire family lives there (mother, siblings, nieces/nephews). Most of their houses are very simple (well, they’re shacks, but they look pretty good compared to the batey) but they had all of their necessities met. Their houses are right on the river bank so we spent a lot of the afternoon in the river with about 30 nieces and nephews. It was so nice that they have this to themselves! It was clean (and cold!) but beautiful. This is where most of them bathe—it was funny because we were swimming and playing with the kids and then Julio (who we work with) offered us a bar of soap. Anyways, his family was so kind to us. They showed us around—they grow flowers to sell (even to export!)—and they served us lunch. Then we realized that he didn’t even tell his family that he was bringing all of us! They were really kind. I really didn’t want to leave and told Katie that I could see myself living there! I just don’t know what I’d do….also, the mosquitoes (different breed from the ones here—I bled immediately once they bit me) were all over me—my legs were SWOLLEN for the next couple of days. But if I could get past that, I wouldn’t hesitate to live there for a while—it was really beautiful and refreshing to be away from the noise and the heat.
The next weekend we had a volunteer weekend with volunteers from Nuestros Pequenios Hermanos (aa network of orphanages in Latin America) on the beach. We most notable thing about the weekend is where we stayed. We have a rich Dominican contact who owns a beach house and opens her home to us for retreats. This house was literally ON the beach—her yard looked like a resort. Pictures on facebook—it was surreal! The beach it’s on isn’t very notable—not in my guidebook or anything—but it was absolutely pristine. This country is so beautiful—I wish so much that we were closer to the beach (we’re about two hours away—all because of traffic—and Santo Domingo is on the water but doesn’t have a beach :()
Last weekend most of our staff did the Cancer Walk together. There were supposedly 500,000 who did the walk (and I believe it!). Some interesting observations on things that never would have happened in the U.S.
1. My best estimate is that about 75% of the walkers were wearing JEANS. We’re on a tropical island, it’s HOT. I’ve even grown accustomed to wearing jeans to work in the heat, but on a 5k?
2. They ran out of water. Stupidly, we didn’t bring our own, because our friend who had done the walk in the past said that they had stations every half-k with bottles of water. Well, they ran out. People went crazy digging through the abandoned water stations for used bottles with even a little water left—it was kind of scary. Thankfully the station at the very end had water. We thought the walk was a 10k and were getting nervous about making it in the heat without water, but we were relieved when we realized we were at the finish line. Afterwards there was a crazy concert with a lot of famous Dominican singers and groups. It was fun but PACKED and people kept passing out/being dragged out because of the heat—yikes. I’m glad we went and it was a motivating environment but I became aware of some pretty big cultural differences!
I can’t think of much else. This past Sunday I woke up dead—I think I was severely dehydrated—but now I’m back. This upcoming weekend’s a long weekend so we’re heading to a beach on the north coast. After that I’ll definitely be keeping in better touch. I miss you all!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Getting Started
So these past few weeks I've really started feeling like I live here (haha, sound familiar? I think I've said this before). I've traveled more, and I'm becoming more familiar (poco a poco) with the batey. For example, I found out that Banda (an older lady) is "married" (in the batey that mostly means "with" rather than an actual legal/religious bond-also, bond? My english is getting weird)--any way, Banda is married to the same man who is married to Berta. But you would never know because Berta and Banda are always together, and Banda seems to help Berta take care of her (nine) kids. I have no idea how this works, or where the "husband" lives. I don't know that I'll ever figure out the culture in the batey, but it's definitely interesting trying to put the pieces together. I'll start with the fun stuff, and then with work.
Paseos
A few weeks ago, Katie and I ventured into the Zona Colonial. The first time we went it seemed beautiful but pretty small, but upon going a second time we noticed so many side streets and beautiful buildings. I loved just relaxing there. Anyways, we stumbled upon the ruins of an old monastery earlier in the day (sans toursits), and we decided to walk past it later on our way home. On our way back, we noticed a stage and a big group of people around it. We decided to stay, and the streets filled up for three and a half hours of a concert (salsa, merengue). There was a dance floor and a lot of elegant older people going for it out there. Until then I had pretty much just been taking things as they came, but that was a moment when I realized that I live in the Caribbean. AND, even better, they hold this (FREE!) concert every Sunday! We're planning to go back this week. They kept giving shout-outs to regulars in the audience, and our goal is to become regulars. I'll keep you posted. ALSO, I put some more pictures on facebook (some from this concert) and the link from a couple of posts ago for the photo album still works if you're interested.
Another paseo that Katie and I went on (we just happened to be the only volunteers on these two particular occasions) was to a river up closer to the mountains. Some of our fellow teachers at the school are evangelical and invited us on the church paseo to this river. After finding out that this wasn't a baptism trip, we decided to go along. Minus swimming in our clothes (which actually wasn't even that bad) we had a really good time. This was not a place any tourist would go, so we were excited to have a genuine Dominican experience. We also ate crabs from the river, and I'm still here without amoebas so it was worth it. We swam and forded through the river for about an hour to get to a place that had music and dancing (that is, the non-evangelicals in the group). Also, all of the Dominicans kept asking us to teach them to swim and they kept saying Americans were good swimmers, so it took a while for me to convince them that they were asking the wrong person.
I live to work
School is getting better and better in the sense of finding what works for me as a teacher, although every day is completely new and full of surprises. This week and next I have a group of seven year olds, including Pepe, a child known for his lack of focus and trouble making. Yesterday, Pepe ripped the plastic coating off of one of the desks with his TEETH, and today I had to send (read: carry) him outside kicking and screaming, with a rusty nail in one hand and a rock in the other. Mary Alice, one of the sisters, mentioned something to me that helped put things into perspective a little bit: many of these kids would not be in normal schools in the states--they're unmanageable one-on-one, they could not function in a normal classroom setting. We refuse to give up on these kids, but at the same time it's helpful to think that it's not completely my lack of experience that's bringing out this crazed behavior in the kids.
In the afternoon, I've been placed to work with the older kids (around age 10). Most of the older kids come in the morning since they go to public school in the morning, but the third grade goes to school in the morning now----well, they would in theory, although the public school is under construction, so they STILL haven't started school. Ridiculous. Anyways, so instead of working with the little ones (ages 4-6) for what functions as a public school program, I'm working with the older ones. I love it because I get to work with the same kids every week, so I have good relationships with them (well, in their own way--many of these kids have attitude, but I know they love me haha). I love the little kids downstairs (SOOO cute) but I really enjoy teaching the older ones. I've started teaching them music (quarter notes, eight notes, etc.) and we've been doing rythm games which they really like. My goal is to get them making music this year! I've also started giving them mini social studies/geography/culture lessons. Our next visitor from the states is coming next week, and my plan is to send back a Flat Stanley (traveling doll) to take pictures so that my group can "travel." These kids live on an island and have never seen the ocean. I want to get them thinking a little beyond the batey, and let them know that even if they can't travel far for now, that they can escape through books and their imagination.........we'll see if it works. P.S. I'll be in touch with some of you about possibly taking some pictures with our doll! :)
New Developments
Once I got here I decided that a good way to get to know people and the way things work in the batey was to teach some of the women to read. A lot of the women seem eager to have a relationship with us and also to be able to help their children succeed in school, so I am happy that I can serve them in this way. I'm starting out teaching four women, and the range of ability is incredible. My two most advanced in reading (Melania y Elizabeth) went to school for a couple of years, but one had a baby at fifteen and the other didn't have fare money to get to school so she stopped going. Guilena, who I met with for the first time today, is at a totally different place. She has seven children, has suffered a stroke, has brain damage, and I'm sure has endured a slew of other hardships that I haven't learned about yet. But she does live with the father of her child (who has a job!) so those are two things in her favor. Although she's lived in the D.R. for a while she speaks Spanish pretty poorly, so teaching her will bve a challenge in many, many ways. I started with some letter sounds today, and she does recognize some letters, but our lesson was so ridiculous today that I had to laugh. They only have one chair, so she sat on a bucket (which they refused to let me sit on). Her children were crowded around us, and she kept yelling at them for making fun of her (which they weren't) and she explained to me that she was embarrassed because they know how to read and she doesn't. Gathered behind us were some teenage girls who kept responding to my questions to Guilena. And to put the icing on the cake, Nana, the alcoholic mother of one of my kids, drunkenly explained that it would be helpful for her to stand by and help me. I tried to fend her off but, being difficult to reason with a drunk woman, I kept going with her commentary. By the end of our lesson all but her kids had left, and I made it clear to the crowds that next time we would be meeting alone. This gives you some insight into the amount of privacy people have living in the batey.
In addition to teaching the women, I was interested in doing some sort of catechism. Most of the people in the batey are evangelical, but we hold a liturgy every Sunday that gets about 15-20 people (about 3/4 kids). Anita, one of the sisters, expressed the need for a youth group. I originally was interested in teaching the younger kids, and youth group-y stuff never appealed to me before, but now I'm getting excited about it. I think there's (rightfully so) such an emphasis on giving this community tangible help (education, health care) that it's easy to forget about their spiritual needs, but I think it's just as important (although they are NOT mutually exclusive). There are about 10 youth who are "Catholic," so I've been talking to them and we're going to start next Tuesday. I want to feel out what they're interested in, but the goal is to give them a community of faith, a time to reflect, a safe place to share, an escape, hope for the future, and to realize their potential as leaders in the community. Haha that's a lot to hope for, but my only expectation for the first week is that kids show up. Please, please, pray for this group. I really have a feeling that it could do great things for them!
I know this is too long, but this would not be complete without mentioning the water situation in the batey. For more than three weeks, the batey has been without water. I don't understand that well how it works (well, no one really does), but the "bomba" or tank had water in it, but it wasn't getting up to the community so no one could access it. So this means that everyone had to go to the river (about a half hour walk--I've never been) to bathe, wash clothes, and get water for drinking and cooking. This has meant much lower attendance in school (because they're at the river cleaning/filling up buckets), but it actually doesn't mean much difference for health of the community, since the "street water" is filled with parasites anyways. Apparently the water came back this morning shortly, but it's gone again. This lack of water (let's not even talk about clean water) has really showed me how dehumanizing it is to be denied something so fundamental to life.
For us in Los Alcarrizos, the water comes about once a week (and on a really good day lasts for 24 hours), we fill up our buckets, take advantage of running water (although we don't have shower heads, but you'd be amazed by what an upgrade we consider water coming out of a spicket compared to bucket showers). In the batey, the water system is even more inconvenient because people don't have as many buckets as we do to keep water. Apparently (as with the electricity), this is the way it is because no one pays. No one pays because they know the government will give them light and water anyways, but because no one pays, the government only turns the water and light on sporadically and infrequently (about once a week for water and once-twice a day for electricity, although it's really hard to find a pattern here). For the record, we do pay for utilities, not that that makes a difference.
My apologies for the lengthiness. Thinking of you all :).
Paseos
A few weeks ago, Katie and I ventured into the Zona Colonial. The first time we went it seemed beautiful but pretty small, but upon going a second time we noticed so many side streets and beautiful buildings. I loved just relaxing there. Anyways, we stumbled upon the ruins of an old monastery earlier in the day (sans toursits), and we decided to walk past it later on our way home. On our way back, we noticed a stage and a big group of people around it. We decided to stay, and the streets filled up for three and a half hours of a concert (salsa, merengue). There was a dance floor and a lot of elegant older people going for it out there. Until then I had pretty much just been taking things as they came, but that was a moment when I realized that I live in the Caribbean. AND, even better, they hold this (FREE!) concert every Sunday! We're planning to go back this week. They kept giving shout-outs to regulars in the audience, and our goal is to become regulars. I'll keep you posted. ALSO, I put some more pictures on facebook (some from this concert) and the link from a couple of posts ago for the photo album still works if you're interested.
Another paseo that Katie and I went on (we just happened to be the only volunteers on these two particular occasions) was to a river up closer to the mountains. Some of our fellow teachers at the school are evangelical and invited us on the church paseo to this river. After finding out that this wasn't a baptism trip, we decided to go along. Minus swimming in our clothes (which actually wasn't even that bad) we had a really good time. This was not a place any tourist would go, so we were excited to have a genuine Dominican experience. We also ate crabs from the river, and I'm still here without amoebas so it was worth it. We swam and forded through the river for about an hour to get to a place that had music and dancing (that is, the non-evangelicals in the group). Also, all of the Dominicans kept asking us to teach them to swim and they kept saying Americans were good swimmers, so it took a while for me to convince them that they were asking the wrong person.
I live to work
School is getting better and better in the sense of finding what works for me as a teacher, although every day is completely new and full of surprises. This week and next I have a group of seven year olds, including Pepe, a child known for his lack of focus and trouble making. Yesterday, Pepe ripped the plastic coating off of one of the desks with his TEETH, and today I had to send (read: carry) him outside kicking and screaming, with a rusty nail in one hand and a rock in the other. Mary Alice, one of the sisters, mentioned something to me that helped put things into perspective a little bit: many of these kids would not be in normal schools in the states--they're unmanageable one-on-one, they could not function in a normal classroom setting. We refuse to give up on these kids, but at the same time it's helpful to think that it's not completely my lack of experience that's bringing out this crazed behavior in the kids.
In the afternoon, I've been placed to work with the older kids (around age 10). Most of the older kids come in the morning since they go to public school in the morning, but the third grade goes to school in the morning now----well, they would in theory, although the public school is under construction, so they STILL haven't started school. Ridiculous. Anyways, so instead of working with the little ones (ages 4-6) for what functions as a public school program, I'm working with the older ones. I love it because I get to work with the same kids every week, so I have good relationships with them (well, in their own way--many of these kids have attitude, but I know they love me haha). I love the little kids downstairs (SOOO cute) but I really enjoy teaching the older ones. I've started teaching them music (quarter notes, eight notes, etc.) and we've been doing rythm games which they really like. My goal is to get them making music this year! I've also started giving them mini social studies/geography/culture lessons. Our next visitor from the states is coming next week, and my plan is to send back a Flat Stanley (traveling doll) to take pictures so that my group can "travel." These kids live on an island and have never seen the ocean. I want to get them thinking a little beyond the batey, and let them know that even if they can't travel far for now, that they can escape through books and their imagination.........we'll see if it works. P.S. I'll be in touch with some of you about possibly taking some pictures with our doll! :)
New Developments
Once I got here I decided that a good way to get to know people and the way things work in the batey was to teach some of the women to read. A lot of the women seem eager to have a relationship with us and also to be able to help their children succeed in school, so I am happy that I can serve them in this way. I'm starting out teaching four women, and the range of ability is incredible. My two most advanced in reading (Melania y Elizabeth) went to school for a couple of years, but one had a baby at fifteen and the other didn't have fare money to get to school so she stopped going. Guilena, who I met with for the first time today, is at a totally different place. She has seven children, has suffered a stroke, has brain damage, and I'm sure has endured a slew of other hardships that I haven't learned about yet. But she does live with the father of her child (who has a job!) so those are two things in her favor. Although she's lived in the D.R. for a while she speaks Spanish pretty poorly, so teaching her will bve a challenge in many, many ways. I started with some letter sounds today, and she does recognize some letters, but our lesson was so ridiculous today that I had to laugh. They only have one chair, so she sat on a bucket (which they refused to let me sit on). Her children were crowded around us, and she kept yelling at them for making fun of her (which they weren't) and she explained to me that she was embarrassed because they know how to read and she doesn't. Gathered behind us were some teenage girls who kept responding to my questions to Guilena. And to put the icing on the cake, Nana, the alcoholic mother of one of my kids, drunkenly explained that it would be helpful for her to stand by and help me. I tried to fend her off but, being difficult to reason with a drunk woman, I kept going with her commentary. By the end of our lesson all but her kids had left, and I made it clear to the crowds that next time we would be meeting alone. This gives you some insight into the amount of privacy people have living in the batey.
In addition to teaching the women, I was interested in doing some sort of catechism. Most of the people in the batey are evangelical, but we hold a liturgy every Sunday that gets about 15-20 people (about 3/4 kids). Anita, one of the sisters, expressed the need for a youth group. I originally was interested in teaching the younger kids, and youth group-y stuff never appealed to me before, but now I'm getting excited about it. I think there's (rightfully so) such an emphasis on giving this community tangible help (education, health care) that it's easy to forget about their spiritual needs, but I think it's just as important (although they are NOT mutually exclusive). There are about 10 youth who are "Catholic," so I've been talking to them and we're going to start next Tuesday. I want to feel out what they're interested in, but the goal is to give them a community of faith, a time to reflect, a safe place to share, an escape, hope for the future, and to realize their potential as leaders in the community. Haha that's a lot to hope for, but my only expectation for the first week is that kids show up. Please, please, pray for this group. I really have a feeling that it could do great things for them!
I know this is too long, but this would not be complete without mentioning the water situation in the batey. For more than three weeks, the batey has been without water. I don't understand that well how it works (well, no one really does), but the "bomba" or tank had water in it, but it wasn't getting up to the community so no one could access it. So this means that everyone had to go to the river (about a half hour walk--I've never been) to bathe, wash clothes, and get water for drinking and cooking. This has meant much lower attendance in school (because they're at the river cleaning/filling up buckets), but it actually doesn't mean much difference for health of the community, since the "street water" is filled with parasites anyways. Apparently the water came back this morning shortly, but it's gone again. This lack of water (let's not even talk about clean water) has really showed me how dehumanizing it is to be denied something so fundamental to life.
For us in Los Alcarrizos, the water comes about once a week (and on a really good day lasts for 24 hours), we fill up our buckets, take advantage of running water (although we don't have shower heads, but you'd be amazed by what an upgrade we consider water coming out of a spicket compared to bucket showers). In the batey, the water system is even more inconvenient because people don't have as many buckets as we do to keep water. Apparently (as with the electricity), this is the way it is because no one pays. No one pays because they know the government will give them light and water anyways, but because no one pays, the government only turns the water and light on sporadically and infrequently (about once a week for water and once-twice a day for electricity, although it's really hard to find a pattern here). For the record, we do pay for utilities, not that that makes a difference.
My apologies for the lengthiness. Thinking of you all :).
Monday, September 14, 2009
Pictures: I read Where the Wild Things Are with my kids, and I had the kids make crowns (Max was the King of the Monsters in the book, and had a crown). They thought of all sorts of creative ways to decorate them--without my help! I was so proud of them! (note: a lot of the kids here have trouble with arts and crafts/creative activities because they have very little self-confidence)
So I’ve obviously been busy and haven’t had as much time to post recently. We work hard here but I’ve been thoroughly enjoying it. A lot of little things have happened since I’ve written but below are some memories.
During Montessori time, when kids get to choose any activities to work on, they go straight for the language/reading activities, which is wonderful and our strength (literacy-focused). BUT we want to get the kids just as excited about science, math, and social studies as well. I decided to get Cristina to work on a map today (we have big map puzzles), and I had her spin the globe and pick a continent. I told her she could travel anywhere in the world, and she told me that was a lie. I explained that I would not lie to her and that we were about to go on a trip. She chose the Asia map (the worst aka hardest!) and I told her about different countries and she really enjoyed doing it. Afterwards I asked her if she liked to travel and she told me that she did, and that tomorrow she was going to travel again. It’s nice to see that the kids find escape in their time at school, and that some of the kids still have hope about their futures.
Although our mornings are run like school, they only supplement the public school that the children receive, so the kids are not required or forced to be there (although they come willingly and are excited to be there). SO if they behave badly, we send them home (this happens with at LEAST 5 (out of 80) kids per day). This sounds harsh, but the kids have no concept of discipline (besides getting beaten) and are pretty free to roam wild outside of school, so it is really important for them to understand that the school has different rules. Near the end of the day last Thursday, one of my girls, Delana (age 11), was giving me attitude and not listening. Up until then (we had been together for two weeks) she had worked hard and I could tell that she really liked me, but I had been warned that she had an attitude so I wasn’t surprised when it surfaced. To make it clear that I would not put up with it, I told her that she had to leave (after having given her a warning). She burst into tears (keep in mind by 11 years old these kids are pretty tough) immediately and said that if she went home early her mom would beat her (for having behaved badly). The sad thing is that this is considered more responsible parenting in the batey (versus the neglect that many of the kids “receive”). I calmed her down and explained that I didn’t want that to happen to her and for that reason I would let her stay (but without giving her game time that the kids have at the end). But I explained to her that that was why it was so important to behave well, so that she wouldn’t get sent home early. This is one of the many wake-up calls I’ve had to how sensitive we have to be to these kids’ situations. It’s actually been helpful to keep in mind, because there are so many potentially frustrating situations that happen every other minute, but when I think about what the kids’ lives are like outside of their 3 hours with us, it’s hard to get mad or exasperated at them.
During sharing time, Eliana shared that her six year-old brother got drunk from drinking beer……
An older woman (Gloria Aleluya) who lives in the batey does some cleaning for the school. She only speaks Creole, and a few words in spanish. Our interactions go something like this: Me: “Gloria Aleluya!” Gloria Aleluya: “Aleluya! Aleluya!” I’m now not sure if that is her actual name, or if they just call her that because she says it all the time. Either way, she’s very cute. I really want to learn Creole, and a lot of the women have been happy to teach me a few words, so I’m hoping to pick some of the basics up by the end of this year!
Dominican men. This is a gross generalization, and I want to make it clear that we have met several very nice Dominican men, BUT many of those same nice guys do not take marriage or children seriously. Most of the unmarried men we know have kids, and many of the married men we know have been unfaithful (i.e. neighbor had an affair with another neighbor the same age as his daughter, a married friend has a son half a year older than his son with his wife, our very religious friend and her husband both have children from before they were married). This happens around the world, but it seems to be EVERYWHERE here. Anyhow, the point is that we were at the 50th birthday party for our friend’s dad, and our friend gave a toast. She said, “I want to thank everyone for coming on behalf of (she names her siblings), and any other brothers or sisters that might be out here tonight.” Everyone burst into laughter and APPLAUSE. Oh, Lord. It’s just accepted here.
Last weekend we finally got out of Santo Domingo for a break. We were invited by family friends of Leah to stay in their house in Santiago (in the North, second biggest city in the country). It was nice just to get away, and we also went to the beach for the day (the water was WARM; it was perfect!). What’s even more exciting was that the family sent their driver to pick us up and drop us off again (it’s a 2 ½ hour trip). I’m amazed at the generosity that people continue to show to us. The driver even had us over to his house for lunch. I really will never forget the generosity (time, food, patience) that the Dominicans have shown us.
On that note I cannot forget (thankfully!) how privileged I am to be here. I of course realized off the bat how privileged I have been my whole life as an American, a college graduate, etc. etc., in comparison to the people here, but I have been even more amazed by how privileged I am to be able to work where I work, for a number of reasons. One, these people really are the poorest of the poor. They are Haitians, from the poorest county in the western hemisphere, who come with hope to this country only to find they are heavily discriminated against and therefore only marginally have better opportunities to find work (I still don’t know too much about this, some may argue that they don’t have an advantage being here). So in that sense I feel privileged to get to share my time with people who really are God’s people. But what’s really crazy is that I have the privilege just to walk into their community, and that there is already a foundation laid for them to trust me and love me back. This is only possible because of one of the sisters who came here on her own fourteen years ago. When she first tried to break into the community, she dealt with plenty of mistrust and discomfort, but now when the people in the batey see us, they know that we are truly there to serve them and their children—to try to give them a better education, and give them a few hours a day filled with love, hope, and (almost equally important) a snack.
That’s all for now. I am thinking of and praying for all of you back home. Please keep our community and our kids in your prayers.
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