Bacteria, Bummer!!

So I think the raw cows milk or the rivers or yet another source of being foreign and not adapting has led to some new inhabitants in my body. Which has not been fun. I have been in the capital of Santo Domingo for 4.5 days now, killing creatures inside me. I've come to find that little creatures are annoying outside you and just plain painful inside.

I have never been this sick before, which is a testament both to my fortunate good health thus far and my pain here. Normally, a person with bacteria has a level of 2-3. Being the intense, over-achiever that I am, I was able to push that level to 8-10, which means 3-5 times the amount of diahrreah, pain, etc. It's hard to tell sometimes if I am getting better or just getting really used to it. But the 3-day, bacteria-killing medicine ends tomorrow at 12:30pm, about 24-hours before I have to be at the airport to fly home. Hopefully the symptoms will end by then too. Hopefully I will have enough energy tomorrow to be able to travel the 2 hours back to El Seibo, pack and travel back here with two huge suitcases.

Definitely not the ending I was expecting for the summer. But I've come to understand that sometimes you just have to say "All's well that .... ends." It's kind of a nice circle in some ways- sick the first weekend and sick the last week. That's the physical definition of closure.

Can you mix cement? Cause I can!

So Thursday and Friday I traveled to San Pedro to meet up with a group of 36 awesome American teenagers (mainly seniors in high school) from Calvary Church in PA to do some serious construction work. I squeezed my way into all their plans, even getting to stay 5 girls to 3 beds (yeah, that was fun, the bedroom became just a bed with a walkway). Basically, air-conditioning, amazing food and instant friendships. What an incredible blessing! I hadnt realized how much I had really really been missing having friends, connecting with people and especially praising God with people (havent been able to connect that way in El Seibo).

So the days were spent mixing cement and I learned why in the states we use cement mixers... it's really hard work! You have to mix the sand and cement when its dry, then add water and mix again, then transport it in buckets to the dirt floor, then start all over again. Luckily there were a lot of us (at times too many) to take shifts. Plus the boys were pure work-horses. (We may be equal, but we are not the same- I can NOT shovel like they can).

I cried when they all left to go to the airport. Probably less for missing them and more for wanting to be the one leaving. Little did I know...
(for pics, check out facebook until I post some)

Beach, bed, bath, buffet...

So 2 weekends ago (sorry for the delay), Lindsay and I decided it was finally time for a little vacation. We traveled the 2.5 hours by bus and paid a relatively small price to stay overnight at the all-inclusive Caribe Club Princess Beach Resort in Bavaro (it pays to make friends who work at hotels and can get you a discounted rate with VIP wrist-bands). I doubt the hotel actually made money off of us though; we milked it for all it was worth.

Basically, the beach was gorgeous, the food was delicious, the sun was strong (which evened out my burns, though I still have some really weird tan lines), the water was warm, the pool was refreshing and the bath... no words for that one. Somehow the bath was the best, lol.

Definitely a well deserved break I think. And a huge blessing.
(pictures to come, check out Lindsey's blog for a better version that I ditto completely)

Redefining sin

So if you haven´t figured it out by now, churches here are very different. As sad as it seems to say this, Christians here don´t seem to have much of a social life because so much is considered sin and therefore off limits. (Note: I am living in a rural town with no movie theater, one ice cream store and only a couple restaurants. The closest big store is 30 minutes away and though people here get excited about it, its worse than a Walmart. Being a Christian here is much more restricting than say in Santo Domingo where a) there are more things to do and b) less things are culturally considered to be sin). So I struggle here not only with making friends, but with upholding a Christian-code I don´t agree with.

Dominican sins (according to Seybanos):

• Earrings- especially on boys
• Make-up
• Dyed-hair
• Pants on women (aka- can´t dress like opposite sex)
• Dancing
• Alcohol
• Smoking
• Non-Christian music
• Divorce & Re-marrying

Luckily, I brought mostly skirts. Not all Christian women here wear just skirts, so its ok if I wear pants. But other women don´t wear pants outside the house. I once heard a woman in church tell a story about rebuking a boy for having an earring, saying he had a demon or something. Then she heard that he was in a car accident but didn´t die and she attributed that ¨miracle¨ to her rebuke. Everyone in church applauded. Ironically, I have seen men wearing bracelets that in the states would be only for women. I have seen girls wearing shorts that were designed for boys. But culturally they don´t know the difference. I have seen Christians wearing shirts that talk about drinking in English. Ignorance is holy, I guess. I didn´t bother to tell them. I´ve passed the discos and though I am sure some are worse and the smell of alcohol is overwhelming, Christians refuse to delineate sin between being drunk and having a drink. Not that I don´t understand the rational, cause alcohol only adds to the poverty and domestic abuse. So therefore, simply entering a disco is sin. Plus there is the dancing, which is supposedly bad. Yet every time I pass by, the couples have about a foot between them, leaving plenty of room for Jesus, haha.

The sad part is, there are a lot more pressing issues that ought to be added to the list, such as domestic abuse, disciplining children too harshly and laziness. I worry that the Church, instead of being a great motivator for change, is isolating people with its rules. It´s not uncommon here to talk to someone and hear him/her say ¨I was a Christian for X amount of time¨ but didn´t stick with it.

Kids camp, beach and... the Red Cross?

Last weekend was an absolute blast. While weeks here may be hard to get through, the weekends are always an adventure. Lindsey and I made a pact to spend weekends together so that we can travel, get out of the house and generally feel like free individuals.

On Saturday, Lindsey and I went to a one-day kids camp that a local church was doing. When I say camp, many of us think of archery, crafts, bible lessons, etc. Dominican camp seemed more to be about letting the kids run around in a new area, rather than just the street. They did play a few bible games, handed out candy, sang bible songs as a contest, played soccer and baseball. We also went on a walk looking for a river/mangos, which turned out to be pointless as there was neither close by. The church service seemed to be more geared for the adults than kids, but I think they just don´t have a differentiation between the two. The pastor went around yelling at the kids to lift their hands in praise, which was scary and hysterical at the same time. At one point, he even grabbed a tree branch and chased a few. There are a lot of things I dont agree with about churches and Christians here, but I guess they would feel the same about us. Overall though, it was a very fun day, filled with casual activity. I even got up the courage to teach the kids how to play duck, duck, goose (pato, pato, ganso) like I had learned in Costa Rica, which was great to watch.

The next day we went to Miches, a beach about an hour away. After a little scare from my mom, Lindsay and I set out, traveling by motoconcho (like motorbike-taxis) to the bus station and then by bus through the hills to the beach. The view was breath-taking and the beach was fairly empty since it has yet to be developed for tourism. We met a few guys from the Red Cross and soon learned that pretty much all the people on the beach were with them. After 3 hours of laying out and swimming, we hitched a ride back in the Red Cross truck with the 30 volunteers. Though they had originally told us we were going to another beach for a little while, we soon realized that we were on our way back to El Seibo. So the day at the beach turned into only 3 hours at the beach. In hindsight, it was probably a blessing because my waterproof/sweatproof sunscreen was just melting off me. I came home only to realize my face and back had gotten burned, despite my diligent efforts to heed my mothers nagging voice in my head. Sorry mom.

So I finally made it to the beach after living on an island for two months. Incredible. And we are going to the beach again this weekend. Hooray!! Maybe I will come home tan afterall!

Life gave me lemonade

So I'd like to take a moment to recognize the good things in life right now that have recently improved. By no means does this mean I am not looking forward to coming home in two weeks. Cause I can't wait. But to get the most out of life now and stay positive...

My lemonade:

• The weather has been REALLY hot here recently. The weather report says high of 90 with 81% humidity. I have no air conditioning and the fan doesn't do a whole lot to change the temperature, though the breeze makes it more bearable. However, I am thankful for the heat cause its a great exercise motivator. Afterall, if I am gonna sweat 24/7, I'd rather do it outside in the breeze.
• La bombilla that was broken somehow got fixed. Which means that I can sometimes switch from buckets to a little trickle of water from the pipe above. Since the water from the bombilla comes from the roof (I guess), the water gets heated up by the sun and comes out luke-warm or even warm. Of course, ironically, I am now usually ready for a cold shower, but the ability to switch between cold buckets and warm trickles is heavenly.
• I still don't have a friend all my own here. The closest thing is my brother and co-worker David who actually takes time to talk to me. Other than that I often feel like a little duck just following the family or employees around. And if I stray from the path, they freak out. The lemonade? Lindsay Garber. American friend and adventure partner. You just can't ride back from the beach in a huge truck with 30 Red Cross volunteers with anyone else. So weekends are always fun, which provides an amazing incentive to keep going through the week.
• Work picked up. I actually had enough to do for 8 hours of the day. (Pray for more cause I just finished it all, lol. I guess the Dominicans just can't keep up with me, even when I feel like I only work half the day.)
• An American came yesterday! I got to eat lunch with him and learn about his family company and just enjoy speaking english while meeting someone new. What a blessing!

The lemons I'm still trying to squeeze into lemonade:

• I am getting really tired of living with 8+ people, especially since there are only 4 who technically live in the house. Example: Before my walk yesterday, I had to wait to use our one bathroom cause my brother Fran (who lives elsewhere), was showering. When I came back, I couldn't take a shower cause my sister Chris (who lives elsewhere) was showering. Then to take a shower, I had to fill up the bucket, carting water in from outside. And of course, my nephews (who live elsewhere) were running around and crying and screaming and I had to dodge them to get the bucket into the bathroom. Then I couldn't watch t.v. cause my brother-in-law Robert (who lives elsewhere) was watching t.v. Get the picture?
• Boredom and loneliness. I am surrounded by people, but that mainly just means I get about 15 "how are yous" everyday. Books are not enticing, tv is lame and you can't walk past 8pm cause it gets dark.
• People here seem to have a lot of fears, which wouldn't really bother me except that they transfer all their fears into protection of me. My mom told me right when we were about to leave for the beach on Saturday morning that we couldn't go alone cause there were drugs in Miches and an American was killed there once (though she knew of our plan to leave last Wednesday and didn't think of it until Saturday is beyond me). So then I had to go talk to David, who said "What? It's not too dangerous!" Luckily he agreed to vouch for us so we could escape the oppression. Marina (mom) is also scared of holes in the sidewalk and always yells at me to watch out. I went to a church event with her and found this one guy Wilkens who is the closest thing to an independent friend although I only ever see him at church, and we sat off on the side with some other young teenage girls. And Marina sent Chris to find me. The 19-year-old pregnant girl was sent to find me! The one that cracks me up the most: today I woke up from a nap and walked out to go to work and Marina yells "Careful. Wait a couple minutes so your eyes can adjust and you can loose the heat from the bed." Luckily Chris was there to vouch that I had been awake for more than a minute and could actually walk on my own two feet the 3 blocks to work. Unbelievable. I'm surprised they don't have me chained to their house. How did I ever live the past 4 years on my own?!?!?!

The circles of life

I´ve noticed that most of my blog is about my experiences and the cultural differences here. It´s high time I really let you know the thoughts rolling around in my head and the overall nature of life down here.

There are two main circles of life that I´m learning about here: poverty and microfinance. First, the circle of poverty (more often referred to as a trap). Its amazing the things we take for granted, and I´m not just talking materially. There is a huge lack of education here, not necessarily book smart, but life smarts. Unfortunately sickness and poverty thrive on and contribute to the lack of education. Here poverty is characterized by little education, lots of kids, petty jobs, small houses, few material posessions, frequent sickness, domestic violence, the works. And the problem is that they are all inter-related. You could talk about root causes for years here and never figure it out. You need money to get an education, you need an education to get a good job to get money. You need kids to help support the family, you need less kids to be able to provide a good education for them. You need medicine to keep from getting sick, you need to stay healthy to earn money to buy the medicine. Its a hard-knock life.

Second circle of life is microfinance, which is best described as a system of incentives and consequences. Esperanza International uses the solidarity microloan model in which a group of 5 people is given a small loan amount (usually ranging from $50 -$200) and are responsible for repaying the loan together. The groups are then put together into Banks of Hope for a total of up to 40 people. If the group cant repay their loan, the bank steps in to pay. They pay an interest rate of 4% each month, and make a payment every 14 days (2% every two weeks). The payment has 4 components: capital (paying off the loan), interest, insurance (in case of emergencies, like someone in the group dying -sadly, it happens), and savings. The savings component is broken into two parts: mandatory and voluntary. Each meeting or reunion every two weeks allows for the group to collect their money, give it to their loan officer, pray, refresh their commitment and hear a little lesson about a variety of topics including Hep B, papsmears, forgiveness, etc. The loans act primarily to protect the vulnerability of the associates. If you have more capital to buy more chicken, then you can sell more chicken, and you can make more money. That money allows you to not only provide for you family but also to stay afloat in times of trouble, such as having to take care of a sick child and missing a few days of work. Those normal struggles would generally have a devastating impact on their lives, but with the loan, they have a better chance of pulling through.

This second circle is meant to combat the first one. There are built-in incentives/consequences to repay your loan cause otherwise you have some unhappy neighbors on your hands who know where you live. Also, when you successfully repay a loan with good attendance, you are eligible for a even larger loan. Many people here are on their 5th or 6th loans already. The loans only stop when they fail to uphold their end of the bargain or when they get rich enough to qualify for a commercial bank loan. They learn to be in community with one another, to help each other, to save money (a rare concept here) and to be held responsible in their commitments. Microfinance is the best way, in my opinion, to serve the middle and upper poor. (Extreme poor just need flat out donations cause the situation is too desperate and the poverty trap is too suffocating).

However, the circle of poverty doesn´t always react in a predictable way to the circle of microfinance. While the incentives and consequences are there and should work, they don´t sometimes. The best way I can rationalize why is to think of children. When kids are taught at home to be respectful and polite, educating them at school is easy. But if that groundwork isn´t set, teaching becomes much more complicated because you are now trying to each too much all at once. Different poor people have different groundwork. And then, even the groundwork can fail them. Afterall, its not as if the rich, well-educated people are always responsible. People aren´t machines and can´t be predicted. That´s the fun and the frustration of it all.

It´s easy to rationalize it away, saying the poor are too lazy, too dumb, too set in their ways to get out of poverty. However, the many many success stories here prove otherwise. Working in microfinance requires patience, mercy and lots and lots of hope. You have to get your hands dirty, you have to actually build relationships with the poor. But when you do, great things can happen. It all hinges on your view of the poor. The first step is to recognize the dignity and value of every person. Afterall, how is it that I was born as me and not as one of these Haitian children? Different circumstances doesn´t mean different values. Every person was made with a purpose. The greatest gift you can give to a person is to help them find that purpose. Some people just have more barriers to get through. It´s really hard to be patient while trying to find the break in the negative circle of poverty that will catapult the person into the positive circle of microfinance. But well worth it.

Not my shoes

The phrase "walking a mile in your shoes" takes on a whole new meaning here. I've just returned from the states (I went home for a week and a half because my grandpa passed away) and am in a weird state of shock. The trip home was revealing in many ways. Obviously, the comparison between life here and life there is mind-boggling. Also in my travels, I got a chance to see Santo Domingo (the capital and biggest city here) in a whole new light. The biggest revelation: I'm not working with the poor, I'm living with them.

I don't know why I didn't realize it sooner. Yet telling people in Santo Domingo about my experiences in El Seibo and seeing their wide-eyed, disbelieving reactions gave me proof that my life here is not what they live. It's one thing to to not fit in because I'm used to American life and completely another to not fit in because I'm in rural poverty. I could very easily live and work in Santo Domingo. And that's comforting and depressing at the same time.

It's one thing to watch someone walk in their own shoes and totally another to wear the shoes yourself. Its hard and yet I feel like a freak for finding it hard because they get by wearing their own shoes all the time. The problem is that you just naturally get blisters, sore feet and aches when wearing anothers shoes. It's just comforting to realize the reason your feet hurt so bad is because they are not your own and the difficulties are totally to be expected.

I'd be lying if I said my time here so far has been easy, fun, comfortable, busy and purposeful. Yet I'd also be lying if I said its not been worthwhile, purpose-less, empty, lonely and unfulfilling. The truth lies somewhere in the middle, though I can't seem to pinpoint exactly where. Depending on the hour of the day, the needle of my emotional pendulum could be anywhere within the spectrum.

The one truth I can truly cling to here is that God is with me and I'm in His hands. I know that sounds cliche, but there is a good reason for its repetition. Everytime I get to the far, negative end of the pendulum, God shoves me back the other way and gives me hope and encouragement. I could give you countless examples. I was not really looking forward to coming back to the DR (to be bluntly honest) and now that I'm back it just feels right. Last night I couldn't fall asleep cause I kept thinking of all the things I can do here. (The Santo Domingo trip also gave me a chance to talk with Tricia, the coordinator, to figure out that life really should be busier than it has been and ways that we can get it up to speed). I've never been much of a baseball fan, but since I'm in the DR, I can't help but say it... I've put on a rally cap and am determined to go all out this last month.

Observations II

• Avoid all things made with harina de maiz- which translates to corn flour (not exactly sure if that's actually what it is). They make oatmeal out of it, balls of corn flour (called bolas) and other "treats."
• Towels will smell moldy after a month of use, even when washed and hung on the line to dry. Just don't breath in when you dry your face.
• It gets even hotter here in July and the rains come less often to cool life down.
• There are different kinds of mosquites. Some that make puffy, itchy, pink bites and some that make red target-looking bites that don't itch.
• People here make a grunting/sucking noise in the back of their throats. And it drives me nuts.
• After a while, you forget you're white. It keeps surprising me to look at photos. I can see my arms and legs but somehow I keep thinking my face is darker.Being in the Dominican Republic does NOT mean that you will automatically get tan.
• People here don't understand exercise and very few do it. They also don't seem to understand the phrase "everything in moderation." In many ways, I'm surprised they are not all fatter.
• Kids learn at young ages here to make kissy faces at gringas and throw their trash wherever. It's disturbing.
• You'd be surprised by what you can transport using a motorcycle. Boxes of fruit, 10 foot long rebar and, oh yeah, propane tanks.
• People here wear clothes from the US. Often shirts have frases in English which they can't understand but makes it fun for me. Examples: college chick, I hate everyone, UCLA, Utah, Relay for Life, etc. Unfortunately, much of the clothing looks like its meant for a club rather than a farm and its usually a size or too two small so the women don't look too classy.
• English is everywhere, as are international products. The US has a big influence here and you can see it wherever you look. Frito Lay makes baked salted banana chips here. You can buy Twix and Snickers in certain little shops. They have brands here like Polo, Lacoste, Rayban, etc (though not the real deal). Our TV channels are just dubbed over. Yet interestingly enough, religion has not been cut out of daily life like it has in the states and even public transportation has bumper stickers like "Cristo viene" (Christ is coming). For an example of all these characteristics, check out this bus I saw- New York Yankees stickers (they love baseball here since some of our best players are Dominican) and a Christian phrase on a Hyundai. Talk about a flat world.

Americanos, mangos and rios

First let me say, it can feel really lonely being here because my american peeps only know my american life and my dominican peeps only know my dominican life. And both types of life are completely opposite. So I have to say the biggest blessing in my life right now is Lindsey Garber. If you haven´t read her blog yet, you should, cause it has a lot of what mine is missing. People here think we´ve been lifelong friends, but we only knew each other in the states for 2 days. Its amazing how shared experiences makes two people so close.

Thankfully, Lindsey was able to visit this weekend. And with two american girls, the dominicans step up the action. Past weekends were filled with movies (albeit halves of movies, lol) and reading and sleeping (aka very boring.) For the first time in a month, I actually felt semi-busy. Hooray!

Friday, Lindsey and I met up with a Hope Vision Trip that had come to the DR to see what Esperanza is doing here. I have never been so excited to get up before 6am. I caught a bus to Hato Mayor, met up with Lindsey and caught the next bus to San Pedro. From there the Americanos picked us up to visit a Bank of Hope meeting in La Romana. Besides the extra travel, not to different from a normal morning. The difference was the company. When I got home that night, I realized my throat hurt. It was the first time I had been able to talk all day long in a long time. It felt so good to be needed to translate and answer questions. And it was renewing to realize that I had been learning a lot here and speaking spanish well, when most of the time I feel somewhat useless and stupid.

After lunch at the office in San Pedro, we got to go to Milan´s school. Milan is the biggest success story of Esperanza who started with a loan to grow a business decorating furniture in her house. She noticed lots of kids fighting in the streets and with her extra income was able to provide them with food and lessons in her home. Pretty soon, parents from all over were sending kids to Milan for school and food. The group grew to over 200 kids, a 100 at a time seated on the floor of her house. So she prayed for help and got a new location. Growth continued. Prayed again and got a school building built. The cool part was that the community was able to get involved. They asked the parents to contribute labor, food, construction materials, whatever they could to help out. The building was literally built with the love and help of the community. Many of the kids at this school (boys and girls) have been sexually abused, as well as physically and mentally. This is the only place they can go and feel safe and loved and home. Milan told me she can see a marked difference in the children that enter and the children that are now in 5th grade. She likes to say she helped them trade in their weapons for pencils and pens.

That night when we got back to El Seibo, Lindsey and I got to go to a surprise bday party for my brother Fran (Francisco). The women took the opportunity to teach us how to dance merengue, which was a blast. The party, sadly, was much more fun and lively than the wedding. Go figure.

Saturday we went to the river with my family and the family of my sister-in-law Isabel. There are few things more wonderful that sitting in warm water on a cool day eating a mango. Afterwards we came back and went for a walk to get pizza and cake in the center of El Seibo. I can´t tell you how good it was to be independent. It was the first meal I had eaten out of the house in over 3 weeks. We only walked for about an hour total, but it was the most I had exercised so far here. And the pizza was delicious (although much sweeter, which I should have expected when considering the ridiculous amounts of sugar they put in everything here).

(Yes, its weird, people go in the river in regular clothes here.)

Church was even more bearable with Lindsey there. Though the sermon took foooorrrreeevvverrr, we laughed our way through it. Don´t ever try to demonstrate all the spiritual gifts/talents God gives us... 24 is way too many for one sermon (especially when each one takes over 3 minutes- and yes, I was timing it).

You´d think one amazing trip to the rio would be enough, but luckily it didn´t stop there. Sunday we went with a group of coworkers and their families from the office here to a house out in the country. Lindsey and I taught the dominicanos some American card games, we played baseball in the street, cooked/ate lunch, played dominoes and then headed down to the river. (Side note: the chickens running around in the yard kept eating the pieces of chicken bones that we tossed to the dog, which really freaked me out. If I come home with some weird unknown sickness, check for mad-chicken disease).

Once again, we had mangos in the river and just hung out. The Dominicans don´t ever seem to do an activity very long, at least not the really fun ones (I don´t count just sitting around as an activity) so an hour or two later we packed up to head home. I nearly cried when Lindsey left for Hato Mayor because it felt like the end of an era. I´m now waiting with great anticipation for my chance to visit her this weekend and go to the pool. We figure we have to get more tan or none of you will believe we were here for 2.5 months!

Beware of men bearing fruit

Its not so much that its a threat as it is an awkward situation. The fact that I´m an American girl makes me very attractive here. Already Ive had to deal with a little drama to point out that I just want to be friends with guys here. Which was kinda hard cause picking up on subtle hints in spanish is nearly impossible. Hard to tell the intentions behind gifts of fruit, offers to go get ice cream, etc. However trying to hold my hand makes it pretty clear. Just wish I could pick up on these things at the start.

Luckily (or not) compliment-wise, guys here are anything but subtle. I don´t know if guys think that American girls are really big fans of cheesy romantic lines or if the guys here are just weird like that with native novias. Most of the time I just want to laugh at them, but I figure thats not a good plan. I met one of my coworkers friends this weekend and today he was messaging her to tell me he likes me, etc. Luckily, she gets it and just laughed with me. I need to use her as my buffer from here on out.

I could definitely come back to the states married. Or atleast with a serious boyfriend. I can only imagine the cultural miscommunication that would ensue. Yet they don´t seem to think its such a bad idea. You´d think the fact that they have to ask me ¿Entendiste? after every compliment would hinder the pursuit, but somehow its not working.

Its hard cause to get around, you ride on the back of a motorcyle, which fits two. People who are married drive their spouses. Only men have motorcycles. So to get anywhere or do anything, I have to rely on single men. So I have a choice- sit at home and be bored or allow the single guy to help me out. Really the first option isnt so bad, lol.

Maybe I just need to wear a sign saying I´m not interested. That or a wedding ring. Anyone wanna be my fake boyfriend in the states? hahaha

Its all about timing

In college (especially sophomore and junior years), I never stopped moving. I think I move and think at a faster pace than many Americans. For example, when I ¨walk¨ at top speed (which is really the only way to go) people (aka my sister Amy and shorter friends) have to run to keep up with me.

I think this past month has made up for all the rest I missed out on during college. And let me tell you, its not easy to slooooowww dooowwwnn. I really do prefer a faster paced, active life. Its just not like that here. Being able to finally walk from home to work was the most exercise I´ve gotten so far (and that takes all of 1-2 minutes). At home, I watch tv, read (which they think I´m studying all the time, since people dont seem to read for pleasure here) and play dominoes with the guys (they play for hours and hours on end, I can´t stand it!). TV here is interesting. There are a lot of American movies, but mostly ones that Americans no longer watch. Jackie Chan movies are popular here, go figure. The tv stations somehow struggle to show the whole movie. The screen will freeze, try to restart, freeze again. Sometimes it just skips ahead to another part in the movie. Sometimes it just cuts to a commercial break and then returns with the movie. Sometimes it just starts a new show altogether. There are already about half a dozen movies that I´ve only seen half of. And I could make a list and watch them when I get back to the US, but one, they are pretty bad movies and two, I don´t know the titles in english. The day that Miss Congeniality came on and lasted til the end was like heaven.

I don´t know if its fair to say people here are lazy. Maybe just more relaxed. Either way, they take longer to do work, since inefficiency is just part of life anyway. Simple chores, like washing clothes, take much longer here, so why rush it? You have to fill up the washing machine with buckets of water, put in the soap and clothes and then turn the dial so it turns the clothes around. Then rinse in a bucket, rinse again in another bucket, put into the ¨dryer,¨ which is more like a salad spinner. Then put the clothes on the line to dry. By the end of 3 or 4 loads, the water in the washing machine is nearly black. I can´t say my clothes get that much cleaner, but I´m sure its better than if I tried to do it by hand.

To cook lunch everyday, they start atleast 1.5 hours beforehand. Beef takes 2 hours. I think they´re relieved that I can serve myself cereal for breakfast or dinner. If I had to cook for myself, that´s all I would ever eat. O and fruit smoothies which they make here with juice, ice and carnation condensed milk. Mmmmm.

They think I sleep a lot. I go to bed between 10 and 11pm and wake up between 7 and 8am. My father here gets up at 5am every morning to go walking for an hour before he opens up the colmado (mini-market where our poor neighbors can buy just what they need) thats attached to our house. Maybe the fact that they only get between 5 and 7 hours of sleep each night is the reason for their slower pace during the day. And the reason for the 2 hour lunch (which permits a one hour siesta).

So, as you can tell, I´m learning to slow down.

Funny observations

• Bigger is NOT always better: especially when it comes to cockroaches and flies. And therefore, everything is not bigger in Texas cause some of the flies here are 3 times the size of what I consider a fly.
• Dominican children´s creed: Frogs are slimy, throw rocks at them! (and then show them to the foreigner).
• Tarantulas do exist outside of cages. Luckily my host brother was kind enough to kill it before showing it to me.
• I am very thankful that I sleep under a mosquito net because it keeps out more than just mosquitos.
• Dominican women fear rain and wear shower caps in public.
• You get a certain sense of pride when the toilet flushes on the first attempt with a bucket of water.
• No body parts are private here. Lots of poor women don´t wear bras and there are tons of naked little kids running around in Haitian bateys. One woman even lifted up her shirt to show us that she wasnt hiding money (luckily she did have a bra on).
• Don´t assume anything is common knowledge. One meeting location in the country had a hand-made poster about how babies are made. Also, there is nothing that is inappropriate to talk about at those meetings.
• If they offer you something made from corn, always hesitate. It could turn out to be a corn starchy gelatin disaster or a pie of what looks like sweet potatoes but tastes like soggy, corn pudding. Gross!
• They have as many types of fruit here as types of insects. (and they make for really great smoothies, the fruit that is)
• Shampoo is versatile. Afterall, we have hair all over our bodies.
• You stop remembering what warm showers are like after weeks with a bucket.
• Lizards come in all colors and sizes. And they like to run up your chair and onto your skirt.
• Don´t put on bug spray right after shaving your legs. It stings like the devil.

La iglesia

Church here is very different. For one, they call the church service a ¨culto,¨ which seems like cult to me, but is exactly the opposite. Let me walk you through two of my church experiences here:

1) Sunday church: Started at 6pm, or so they say, but people come in late. (They also have a service on Saturday night and Sunday morning). The first few minutes are spent in prayer either kneeling at your seat or at the front. A lot of people start crying and repeating out loud certain phrases like ¨santo¨(holy), ¨bendito sea tu nombre¨ (blessed be your name), etc. From there is only escalates. The churches are very humble but all of them have HUGE stereo speakers, drums and a keyboard. (Oddly enough, I still have yet to see a guitarist). All are used to maximum capacity for worship, along with everyones individual voices, who all yell and cry out in rapid succession. When they switch between songs, the voices make up for the lack of sound. It´s as if God is deaf or won´t listen unless your own ears hurt.

The music is very lively. They sing some American songs in Spanish, but they sing them so slowly and loudly that I can´t remember the English words to sing along. When the drums aren´t being used, the keyboardist makes up for it with one of the pre-programed electronic beats, which I find hysterical.

Sermons are different too because they don´t analyze scripture like we do. The pastor just talks about a passage, repeats certain truths and then breaks into song when he feels like it. Like church is a musical extravaganza. The best is what I like to call ¨prayer rapping,¨ when people start praying (more like yelling) and the keyboardist is playing his electronic beat and you can feel the energy in the church. During this time, I usually sit down, ignore what´s going on around me, pray by myself or sing a song in English. Being a generally quiet and introverted at American churches, it´s so overwhelming; I just can´t get comfortable. I pray that as the summer goes on, my heart would stay open to their types of worship instead of retreating.

The service is supposed to only be 2 hours, but last time it went an extra half hour. I´ve found that once you reach the hour and a half mark, you really don´t notice the rest of the time. Plus I´ve gone deaf by that point, so it´s rather peaceful. It also helps to have two little ten year old girls sitting next to you that like to examine your white skin and touch your hair.

2) Last friday a coworker invited me to ¨una vigilia¨ to pray for the cyclone season here. We got there at 8pm, but it didn´t start til 8:30 (typical Latin American timing). They prayed and sang and talked (then rinse and repeat). I wasn´t keeping track of the time, but we left early and I realized it was already 11:30pm! Three hours of worship, and I only understand about half of it at best. wow.

Church is just one more aspect of life where I feel very much alone, foreign, slightly uncomfortable and clueless. But I have to say that I really enjoy going cause it´s amazing to see how people react to God differently. The Dominicanos are lively and passionate. Church isn´t about intellectualizing the Bible and getting personal alone with God. It´s about community praise of the powerful Creator of the universe who really does have the power to change our lives. We use different approaches to understanding a multi-faceted, complex God who just doesn´t fit in our brains all at once. When they pray, they do so with authority, believing that God is listening and powerful enough to make a change. We tend to simply submit requests meekly before God. Maybe this just reflects a difference in needs. Maybe we ought to thank Him more.

Part of me wonders how much of it is authentic and how much is just culturally expected, especially when my little two year-old ¨nephew¨ starts ¨preaching¨ (talking nonsense loudly and becoming animated with his arms). Yet I can´t help but think it´s the same in the US. It´s just that we´re all taught to worship silently to ourselves.

I wonder if we took a group of kids, raised them outside of the church and then told them about Jesus, if they would all worship the same way. I doubt it. And that´s what´s amazing: you can worship God is so many ways. Everyone reacts differently because everyone is different and God works differently in each person. The importand thing is: He´s working in us.

PS-Check out the blogs of the other DR interns. Between the three of us, you´ll get a better understanding of life here. (see right column for links)

El Seibo and beyond

I´m living in a city called El Seibo and until yesterday, I hadn´t really had a chance to travel around it. It seems the Christians here only go to work and to church (more on that later). But then a coworker of mine, named Nouel, offered to take me on a tour. So we went yesterday.

To sum it all up, I live in a mix of Jurassic Park, The Land Before Time and the farm. It´s so beautiful here, so simple, so organic, so humble. I can´t describe it; you´ll just have to look at the pictures. We rode around all the different barrios here, ate dulce de leche (which is like cheesecake in a bar), tried some famous drink that they only make here (which I doubt you could get anyone to buy elsewhere, cause it was rather gross) and then headed for Pedro Sanchez.

Pedro Sanchez is a small rural town outside of El Seibo surrounded by hills (like California hills, not tiny Texas ones- not everything is bigger in TX). Along the way, we stopped at just about every new type of fruit tree so that Nouel could show me and pick some for me to eat. I ate tomato, mango and something called tamarindo, which I have no idea what it is. It looks like a pea and tastes like a sour prune. Go figure. We rode up the mountain to the top, where I took some incredible pictures. From the top, you can see the ocean and a town called Miches that´s right on the beach. The view was incredible, however it was cloudy so the pictures really can´t do it justice.

Note: They make the fences here with branches, which then begin to grow, so the hillside is covered with lines of trees which are actually fences. Sooo pretty.

The whole ride was about 3 hours. Three hours on a motorbike, which I really think should be a called a mechanical horse here, cause you feel so sore afterwards. =) When I got home, I was covered in sticky fruit juice which had become a kind of brown paste after mixing with the rain and the dust that had surrounded us each time we passed a car. My hair was all knotted, my face was a new color brown, and I couldn´t stop smiling. God is so good.

Being a gringa

First, a little history lesson: the word ¨gringo¨ (or ¨gringa¨ in my case) can about when US troops were in Latin America, dressed in green, and very unwelcome here. Hence, ¨green-go¨or ¨gringo.¨ Times have changed, however, and the term is now one of endearment (or so they tell me). It must be an term of endearment, cause the guys all say it while making kissy faces and staring at me.

There have been other white people to explore these parts before. And the Dominicanos all think that the white people are all the same person. There was a girl here before me named Marlon (atleast that´s the best I know how to spell it based on their accents). She was very fair, wore glasses and had blonde hair. We look nothing alike. But people keep thinking that she came back, when really its me. My family keeps explaining that I´m another person.

A little girl in church last night had fun examining my skin. She said its so smooth and was fascinated by the fact that you can see the veins through my skin. She also asked me how many kids I have. I had to explain to her that I didn´t have any and wasn´t married yet.

A little boy in the street asked me if I was from Spain, which I absolutely loved since that would imply that I´m a native Spanish speaker. Keep dreaming!

Another kid yelled out to my brother David saying ¨¿Es la tuya? David, es la tuya?¨ (meaning ¨is she yours?¨).

Needless to say, I get a lot of attention here. It´s amazing that by traveling, I suddenly become attractive to an entire country. I´ve been asked if I´m a model, lol. If you need an ego boost, just come visit. =)

Rice, of all kinds

So the most asked questions of friends and family has been: How´s the food?

My response: Excellent (except for raw milk of course). I´ve always thought that I had the appetite of a pregnant woman cause I eat such weird combinations of food. However, I have since found people who eat weirder combinations that me. The Dominicans.

Major staple: rice. Now this could sound boring, since I´ve had white rice every since I´ve been here. But the possibilities are endless. Think of all the things Americans eat with carbs. Now substitute carbs with rice, and you´re in the DR. Mostly they eat rice with beans and some form of meat, like chicken, tuna, beef or some other form of fish that tastes like concentrated fishy flavor, maybe like what cat treats taste like (i nearly lost it on that one). However, they can get really creative and to be honest I´ve loved just about every combination. Some recent favorites include: rice with avocado, rice with banana, rice with what i think was okra (not really sure and since my Spanish classes never covered vegetable vocabulary, it´s not really worth asking) and my personal favorite, rice with beets.

Yes, rice with beets. I eat beets almost every day. Americans underestimate the beet. If I were to write an ode to a vegetable, it would be the beet. One, they´re colorful. Two, they´re juicy. Three, they´re sweet but not too sweet. Four, they go really well with rice. =) Betcha never thought you´d hear that!

I also eat rice every morning, that is, rice crispies (fyi- here they call all cereal ¨corn flakes¨). It all started when I was sick and they gave me rice crispies without milk (which, surprisingly, is as hard to eat as peanut butter). When I felt better, they gave me rice crispies with milk (from the carton of course, it´s ultra pasteurized and I think its like whole milk, so I use as little as possible). And since it´s easy and I love it, I now eat rice crispies at least once a day, if not for dinner too.

So that´s rice up to 3 times a day.

Los Dominicanos

I think it´s easier for an American to adjust here than for a Dominican to adjust there for one simple reason: the people. People in the US are cold and unwelcoming compared with people in Latin American countries. My family has been so thoughtful and protective, going out of their way to serve me and make me feel comfortable. The accommodations and amenities of life here may be humble, but the people more than make up for the adjustment. The more I travel outside the US, the more I realize how much we are lacking, even though we are highly envied. Money really isn´t everything. In fact, I would argue that it´s very little (if not none) of what makes life good. =)

People live with a greater sense of peace here, even though it´s more dangerous. People enjoy food more here, even though (or maybe because) they have to spend hours preparing it. Life moves a lot slower (there is time built into the lunch break for a nap, my kind of living!). There is greater appreciation for all the little things because every little thing has a much greater impact on their lives. People here say Gracia a Dios for every aspect of the day. They pray and sing a lot (and I mean every day constantly). They are so humble, so grateful, so passionate and so genuine.

They also have different relational norms. I live with a family that has 4 children, all but one of which is already married. The parents, Marina and Cristobal, come from even bigger families. The youngest of the children, the only daughter, is not yet 19 and already married and 5 months pregnant. She, Cristobalina, and her husband Roberto, live very close and are over at my house every day, helping clean and cook. Another of their sons, Cristobal David, and his family live about 10 steps from our house (imagine the backyard of a townhouse and put a house there for your son, lol). They have two sons: Carlos (almost 4) and Ismael (about 2, more commonly called Mimi). The boys might as well live in my house cause they are over every afternoon (after spending the morning at their other grandmothers). It´s great cause they are entertaining and not to mention adorable. They shower me with kisses and hugs and every moment is a performance for me.

In the office, everyone seems to be under thirty (probably closer to 25) and they are all either married with kids, newlyweds or engaged, except two (there are 8 total). Two of the three that are engaged are getting married while I´m here, so I´ll get to go to their weddings (how cool!). The first word they asked for in english was ¨soltero,¨ aka single, to tease the two guys that aren´t married. Talk about a totally different culture, lol.

Got milk? Got Sick

Yeah, so I was dumb. Somehow I thought my mother´s obsession with organic and my forced training in eating like a Californian health extremist with raw organic milk would have transferred here. NOT SO. If any of you are ever in the DR and are offered cows milk that´s not from a carton, don´t drink it. Save yourself.

Needless to say, I didn´t feel so hot this weekend. Feeling sick soon combined with homesickness and my normally high emotional state make for a rough time in total. I think I really scared my family too, cause the poor things kept offering to take me to the hospital. I don´t think they know fully what diahrreah is or how it affects someone, cause they kept offering me fruit, vegetables, etc. They thought I was weird for eating only bananas, rice crispies and rice.

Lesson learned: milk here is like tap water here: bad!

Frustrations

Life here isn´t hard but it´s also not easy. I´m used to being independent, busy and comfortable. Here life is sloooow, foreign and very much interdependent (mostly me depending on them for EVERYTHING). Just about the only thing I can do here without help is get ready in the morning and use the internet. And since the internet is inconsistent, I´m even more dependent.

I feel like a little kid here and it´s frustrating. They feed me, clear my plate, wash my dishes, take me to work, take me to the country for their meetings and take me home. I don´t know how to make their food or how to speak their language perfectly. Most questions, most conversations and just about every joke has to be repeated for me to understand. What´s more, the people here talk faster than I have ever heard spanish spoken and they drop syllables so ¨esta¨ becomes ¨ta.¨ (now imagine whole conversations like that!")

The Hope interns are reading a book called Compassion, Justice and the Christian Life, by Lupton, which I highly recommend. In one part, it talks about how hard it is to be the recipient and not the giver (especially when it´s more blessed to give than receive - Acts 20:35). I think right now I´m learning to be a receiver, which is ironic considering the poverty here. God´s forcing me to be dependent entirely on Him and on other people. Which is hard, but a big blessing to. I just have to keep reminding myself that ¨For Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.¨ (2 Corinth 12:10)

Adapting

If this doesn´t make you laugh, you might have issues. I wish you guys were here to see this cause I keep laughing to myself, thinking "If you could see me now!" I must seem crazy to them cause they have no idea what my life was like in the US. In some ways I want them to know cause then they would understand me better, but then again I´m grateful that they can´t know how odd it is for me here.

Let me just walk you through my two days here. Get ready, lol.

I arrived yesterday in the morning at the office. After meeting everyone, praying together and then crying while they all took my picture, I went to my new home to meet my family. Everyone is so nice here and I just felt so overwhelmed by emotion (excitement, gratitude, expectation, etc) that I couldn´t help but tear up - if you know me well this makes perfect sense. However to those who don´t know me, like everyone here, I must have seemed like a gringa loca. Thankfully Tricia was there to tell them all that I was happy, not sad.

Daniel (manager), Me, Yohanna & Yunior (2 of the 5 loan officers)

My mom here has decided to make it her personal mission in life to make me fat- or so she says, which is exactly the opposite of my plans. Life here is very much real and humble. They eat the entire chicken, feet and all. (I´m terrified that they will give me the foot one day to eat cause I have an irrational fear of birds and feathers and bird feet as it is without having to eat them). They are so sweet to me and always check to see if I eat certain foods (most of which I don´t know the names for in spanish so its constant show-and-tell) and if I like it after I eat it. My mami is a very good cook, but it seems people here have a higher tolerance for sweetness. Coffee tastes like liquid sugar and juices are mixed with carnation instant milk. I had both this morning and am now wide awake.

I get a wide variety of looks here: firm stares, kissey faces, big smiles, quisitive looks, etc. People aren´t accustomed to seeing white people. Thank God I don´t have blonde hair too.

To give you an example of what my life is like right now, I´m going to outline my morning. Enjoy. =)

I woke this morning at 7am and undid the mosquito net that boxes in my bed to get out. My bed consists of three mattresses stacked on top of each other and you can feel the springs through the mattress. I don´t notice cause I´m so tired. There is no running water right now (it goes out sometimes for a few days) so to shower I stood in the bathroom and dumped cold buckets of cold water on myself. When I go to the bathroom, to flush the toilet I have to pour buckets of water quickly so that the water gets pushed through. (it´s really an art form that takes perfecting). Instead of lotion, I put on sunscreen and instead of perfume, I have bug spray. To get to work, I ride on the back of a motorcycle, lol. People here can´t believe that I´ve never ridden on a motorcycle before. It´s a way of life here, cause the roads are too rocky and uneven for cars, plus cars are too expensive.

I got to work and immediately left for the campo (country) on the back of a moto. It took about 20 minutes to get there. My knees wouldn´t stop shaking after I got off. I observed a ´bank of hope´in which about 5 groups of 5 people each meet to pay the interest on their loans biweekly. Since mothers day was this past week, they gave each of the women presents. Then they said a prayer and we headed back to town.

The countryside here is so beautiful. There are cattle and horses and pigs everywhere, with little houses and huts scattered around. For fences, they use branches which then begin to grow on their own so the streets that are lined with fences are actually lined with trees. There are large rolling hills, covered in tropical plants, palm trees, flowers and mainly long, thick grass.

I can´t wait to show you more pictures, but until then you should watch the Motorcycle Diaries. Not only is it a great movie, but it´s also now my life. How cool is that!?!?!

Whirlwind

To catch you all up on life up to this point, I left for Philadelphia, PA on May 21st for training with Hope International. After experiencing the traditional philly cheesesteak (complete with cheese whiz, lol), staying in a house that can only be considered a mansion, meeting all the interns and employees at Hope, I left early morning at 4am on Sunday to fly to the DR. I can now say I´ve been to the Puerto Rico, if only the airport. I can´t begin to explain how eye-opening the training was for me and how amazing it was to be part of an entirely christian organization. Let´s just say God gave me everything I´d been searching for and researching all year on my own in one weekend. wow. Talk about extreme blessing and mental overload =).

So I arrived in Santo Domingo that afternoon where I was greeted by Lindsey and Travis (the two other DR interns with Hope), Tricia, our coordinator, her friend Martini, and Pablo and Kayla who work in the office. We went to eat at Adrian Tropical to try the traditional food. I have to say my favorite food here so far are the fruit juices. Being a smoothie fan, this is such a treat!

Travis, Lindsey and I stayed in an apartment owned by a sweet lady named Carmen. It had air conditioning and hot water and a kitchen for us to cook in. We were joined by Dios Davil, her son-in-law, which surprised us at first when we returned to the apartment and found him inside, lol. Tricia became our mom/big-sis for the few days we stayed there. She speaks fluent english, which was so helpful. She´s been to the US so she knows how to help us transition easily. We went to la zona colonial, a mini Spain, where Christopher Columbus orginially lived.

The traffic here is crazy, especially in the city. They have stoplights, signs and lanes, but nobody pays attention to them. Here, normal cars for us, like Ford and Toyota, are considered very luxurious. Like in the US, people take out loans to buy nice cars to appear rich.

Training was great, but much more relaxed. Everyone here runs on a slower time schedule and most people are late to things. The relaxed atmosphere was actually helpful to be able to adjust and have time to check our email and just chill with Tricia.

Being in Santo Domingo was the perfect transition to life here. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I signed up for this and I´m so grateful Tricia and Chris eased us into it so smoothly.

After training on Monday and Tuesday, Lindsey and I were taken to our respective locations in the DR. Luckily we are only 30 minutes away from eachother so we´re planning to do some weekend trips together. She´s in Hato Mayor and I´m in El Seibo. Neither one is near the water, but Travis will be in Puerto Plata right near the ocean so we can visit him (although its several hours away).

I apologize for my writing. The keyboard here is different and I´ve been thinking so much in Spanish that I have difficulty seeming smart in English. I keep miss-spelling things and having to re-type them, lol.

Overview

Before we get into the actual adventures of the summer, let me first clarify how I got here and what I'm doing here exactly. I know this is a point of confusion for many of you and I must admit it's still confusing to me. My combined interests in Spanish, Jesus and international development (especially a growing curiosity with microfinance) led me to find Hope International through a basic Google search and apply for their intern program. But I know that the real reason I'm here because of God's flawless guidance. It's apparent in everything I'm learning and how perfect these organizations fit my dreams for life.

Since traveling abroad in Europe, the Balkans, Costa Rica and Mexico, I've come face to face with poverty. It's been an eye-opening experience in many ways. I learned the poor aren't necessarily less happy than any of us and that they love Americans (for the most part) despite our bad decisions and national selfishness. I've also learned that the thought isn't really what counts. You can do a lot more harm by trying to help then by letting people alone. However this is no excuse to remain absent. We just need to wise about how we help. I've seen the hand out fail people by creating dependence and read the numbers on financial aid that has poured into poor countries with little economic improvement. I've wondered if there was a better way, but couldn't find one.

But then I discovered microfinance and I've fallen in love. Microfinance organizations (MFIs) give small loans, like $100, to poor individuals or groups that commercial banks ignore because of the risk. Esperanza and Hope combine business training and educational programs with their loan process so that the loans with succeed in helping the poor out of poverty. The loans are not a hand-out but a hand-up. They're paid back with interest to the MFI and then the group/individual can apply for another loan, potentially until they are credible enough to receive commercial bank loans.

Hope and Esperanza are even better than most MFIs because they integrate faith into everything. The loan officers, that organize and help the groups, are encouraged to share their testimonies with their clients. Each Monday the Esperanza offices do a devotional/praise & worship time to focus their week. The organizations only hire Christian professionals. God is in the center of all they do, which is quite different for me after only secular work/school atmospheres.

If you get nothing else from this blog, I hope you understand the amazing impact of MFIs and how transformational they can be when combined with the message of Jesus Christ. I'll have more stories to share soon. My specific role for Esperanza will center around assisting the loan officers and translating the client stories to post on Kiva, a site where sponsors can view the profiles and donate (kinda like what Compassion/World Vision does with children). Best of all, after 6-12 months, you get the money back as the client pays off the loan, so it can be re-invested to other clients again if you wish (cool huh?!).

Questions? Let me know. =) TTFN.