In a Space Between

28 de diciembre 2014.  

There have been difficulties in my service thus far. Ways that I've been challenged beyond my imagination. Things I've had to learn, overcome, change about myself, and/or accept. If I were to write a novel of all of the parts of these last two years that were difficult, I'd write one longer than all the Harry Potter books combined.

And while I'm sure that in every moment, I would have said, "This is the hardest moment of my life," looking back (though even in that perspective lens we are in danger), I now know that I was wrong. The hardest moment of my Peace Corps service was this Christmas time. For the first time in 25 years, I wasn't going to be home with my family, the cold,the tree, the music, the movies, everything. And being raised with a family where traditions are everything (and I, on my own particularly, might even take that a step further), I was trapped in a world where nearly none of those familiarities existed. I tried mightily by putting up my tree a little earlier, lights outside my house in the formation of a star, a stocking (to which, upon being asked, realized I had no clue where it came from), and even orally sharing and comparing traditions between cultures with my neighbors and loved ones surrounding me.  But as the big day approached, it got harder, I got weaker, and I was lost as to how to cope. The 23rd? In and out of tears (okay, so sobbing tears) kind of mess. I wanted to lock myself away in my house all day. But the loneliness consumed me. I tried to leave and be with other families to help fill the void. But the loneliness consumed me. 

All I wanted was my family (selfishly); my mom, my dad, my big brother, little sister, and my munchkin. My grandmothers, cousins, Guncle, and random friends who always manage to stop by. I wanted to make cookies and eat the batter behind mom's back. I wanted to help put up the tree while watching the Grinch, annoyingly quoting every. single. word. I wanted to go Christmas shopping no matter how bad I am at it or how broke I would be doing it with Christmas music blasting through the slightly cracked window just so I could feel the freezing cold air bite my left cheek while my right was burning red with the warmth of the heated car. I wanted to go to church, even if it was with the same outfit as last year. Eat every appetizer grandma put out and then on a full stomach, shovel dinner down too. Maybe even going for seconds. I wanted to watch my cousins open presents Christmas with a glass of white wine in my hands that dad never fails to keep full. I wanted to fall asleep with my little man beside me, kicking me all night long or taking over the entire bed with his skinny but long body, knowing my baby girl was right there too sleeping soundly through the night. I wanted to wake up before the two of them, go to the bathroom (taking an illegal peek down the stairs as if I was 5 years old again), return to both of them awake and start our knocking ritual to "wake" the sleeping parents next door. I wanted to wrestle, laugh, and pretend to get annoyed as we wait for the adults to get everything prepared and start video taping. To take our picture on the stairs still all groggy and gross but always with a sparkle from the tree and excitement in our eyes. To take turns opening presents with a patience that should never exist. To find the cookies and carrots partially eaten and the milk slightly spilled on the table or floor. Drink coffee, eat breakfast, call relatives, and then get ready to head over to grandma #2's. Where the ticking clock in the dining room always matches the pulse of my heart and makes me feel safe and at peace. More presents, wine, food, making videos, playing games, and just basking in the warmth of family. Never wanting to leave but the end of the night inevitably arrives. Always.

I have learned of an entirely new world, new culture, and seen how small our country that we consume ourselves in truly is. I've loved parts of here far more than certain things back home. But I would be a liar and betrayer if I didn't admit that there are still so much from back home that I appreciate far more now. Sure, we are over-consumers, we use technology way too often, we lack in soaking in the simplicities of life, and we forget about what truly matters some days. But damn it, do we know how to celebrate Christmas (to me at least). Haha And maybe being sick, lacking sleep, needing peace and quiet more than I ever have, and being so damn attached to certain traditions isn't being fair to where I live now, but it's just how I feel. 

But to continue being honest, I was stuck in a space between living in the past, and trying to enjoy the present moment. So to be fair to the present: 

I was able to celebrate Christmas Eve dinner with my second family and it was a beautiful disaster. 

Absolute perfection, to be honest because it was just as unorganized and crazy, and delicious as it would have been back home. 

I then got to dance and be with friends. 

Christmas Day I was blessed enough to gather with some Americans in the area and we made food from back home, 

a little man (whom I just met that night) stole my heart while mashing potatoes better than me and telling me his life story,

And my family was there through all of the mess that I was. Even at midnight while I was feverish, just got finished throwing up and was sobbing. Sam, you're the best for answering me while naked and about to shower (did I just post that publically? Oops 😜)

Reminding me that even if I make the decision to be away, they will always be there waiting with a suffocating group hug and glass of white wine.

Merry Christmas everyone. 

Where Children Should Never Have to Be.

Santiago Children's Hospital 12 of December 2014. Casilda's twins were getting check-ups and she needed someone to make the trek with her. So with a note sent to my teachers and students to forgive my absence, we were off at 5am.  

Such a beautifully painful trip. They were celebrating Christmas and the number of people handing out gifts, cookies, juice, highlighters, lo que sea was overwhelming. I did a lot of waiting around with the munchkins as Casilda did what she needed to do. Here are some pictures of us just hanging out and then the craziness of Santa Claus, presents, and the gathering of all the children who attend this hospital far too regularly.

Angel Manuel 

Angel Miguel. I used to not be able to tell them apart... 

Momma and her princes.

They were terrified of Santa Claus. Haha

All of these children have some sort of chronic illness...

❤️

Miguel and I playing together while his momma and brother had a consultation. She has to go back with Manuel on the 22 where they will inform her whether or not the next step will be the surgery or one more round of chemotherapy... And then on the 31st, they will have to return for whatever is decided.

I pray for little Angel Manuel and his family everyday. They have showed me what the strength of a family really is capable of and I'll never be able to thank them enough for it. We just have to have faith that his thinning hair, loss of his beautifully thick eyelashes, slimming of his tiny body, sinking of his once-plump cheeks, and the unseen battle inside will all be worth it in the end. And we can celebrate another life saved by a miracle someday soon.

Who wants a Sack of Rice?

The day I got back (8 de diciembre) was a long one. I arose an hour early, forgetting my clock was an hour behind because of the lack of daylight savings in the DR. Unable to fall asleep, I simply arose at 5:30 and through difficult goodbyes, I headed out with my daddy, coffee in hand and a suitcase beautifully stuffed by my mother. The drive was long and the tears threatened to descend the entire way but my dad and his loving support kept me together. I said goodbye outside the airport and rushed in since I was cutting my time quite short. After getting my ticket, checking my 49lb bag (1lb more and I would've had to pay! GO MOM), and making it through security, I sat at my gate with only ten minutes before my boarding time. Phew!

I arrived in Santo Domingo at noon, made it through customs, and rushed to find a taxi. I had to ask if there was still a bus to Loma because again, cutting it short. He said the last one left at 2:30. Perfect. But upon arriving at the bus station at 1:10, the last one was leaving at 1:30, and the ticket man first said there were no more seats available. But upon checking again, there was one! Phew again! Six hours later, I made it to Loma in the dark. Yoelbi was late picking me up but when he arrived, I couldn't have been happier. And Eudy tagged along to haul my suitcase. I hopped on with Yoelbi and we were off. HOLY FREEZING. I literally felt my bones shaking. But about 30 minutes in, Eudy hitting a pothole and my suitcase going flying, I made it to my house. And to a bonfire right outside and a bunch of kids chanting my name. God they just know the way to my heart. I unpacked little and passed out after visiting a few favorites (oops, can I say that?).

The next day I slept in until 11. Oh yea :) I was arranging my house and unpacking a bit when Dominga called me from next door. She told me that across the Play, two girls were fighting. I booked it. After breaking through the crowd chanting and laughing, I grabbed the one girl (almost my height and much "stronger" than me) as she was ripping the other girls hair out and getting bashed in the head. My arms alone weren't strong enough to break them apart. So, I pulled my weight back and used my entire body to separate them, falling flat on my back on the rocks with the girl falling on top of me. Fight over. And commence full body shakes from the adrenaline. Some teachers were there watching but too afraid to get involved. Thank goodness Dominga called me... I was fuming, yelled at a guy my age who was just watching with a smile and returned home.

The rest of the day was just organizing, handing out presents (who knew the dollar store could be such a hit!), and finishing up plans for class the next day.

Back to class I went at 8am and boy did I miss it! Casilda and I then went around to sell tickets for our raffle on Sunday. And Sunday was a SUCCESS. A sack of rice (125lbs worth) was such a good idea. We spent more on the prize but raised more money than any other raffle we had done. And there were many more people in attendance. 

Other updates? Still no answer for location. We got through to the secretary of the presidency who is going to speak with the man who promised to help us and then dropped off the face of the earth. And another Christmas raffle is in the making :)

Too Much love for Words

The first week of December was vacation time! And can I be honest and say, I cried the night before leaving haha. I'm sure it was just a bunch of emotions running through my body but oh man was I excited. The week was full of family, food, and just good old times. Seeing everyone was incredible. I can't even describe it all adequately but I'm so beyond blessed by the ones I have back home. And I'll never forget it, even while I'm so far away for so long. 

The wedding was beautiful, the house where we stayed, incredible, and the love I felt, overwhelming-in a good way. My family gave me Christmas early and we just lived each and every moment to the fullest. I find myself without words here so I'll just post some pictures to show my beautiful family and I together for the first time in too long. 

And while everything being so perfect made it hard to go back, it also made it that much easier. Because I know they're always there, loving me and supporting me through all my crazy shenanigans. 

I miss you all.

Adventure of a Lifetime

So on Thursday, the 20 of Noviembre, Ann and Keila came to my neck of the woods to visit. They stopped by to pick me up and we headed to Restauración for a meeting with Ramon, the district director. The meeting had been scheduled and confirmed as of the day prior but of course, upon showing up, he wasn't there. The sub-director, however, was. The purpose of the meeting was to form a better relationship between Peace Corps and the district. Ann's brilliant plan is to make them more aware of the volunteers in the area, what our job is and how it lines up with theirs, and to hopefully find a way to collaborate together more effectively. This is why she creates "clusters" of volunteers in one district when she does site development. The meeting went beautifully. They saw her passion, loved how much our goals line up with theirs and are excited for the relationship to form. We are still in infancy stages with the process but it was so neat to be there and have a hand in moving forward.

Next? Lunch. Then we headed to a community called Cruz de Cabrera for site development. Ann had been there before but had heard of another route through the pueblo which was apparently shorter. What she was unaware of, however, was the condition of the road. Literally the worst road I have ever seen in my entire life. Imagine me in the back seat, holding on to both "Oh shit" bars on either side and Ann and Keila screaming in the front as we rise and fall and curve with ditches and mud and cliffs hanging off to our right. The complete lack of houses and people was also terrifying in that NO ONE would've known if were to have gotten stuck. I had to get out three times to see if it was even possible to keep going with the way the cracks and holes dipped. THANK GOD for the PC four wheel drive and the incredible chofer that Keila was. An hour and a half later, we made it to the school. 

Incredibly enough, despite not seeing many houses, the school's population is higher than that of Mariano Cestero. We met with the director's wife and the teaching staff of the afternoon. They were wonderful and excited about the possibility of a volunteer working with them. All I have to say is this volunteer better be prepared for living out in the middle of nowhere, with no cell phone service, and they have to LOVE walking. A lot. Haha But oh my god did we have a blast together, the three of us women screaming, praying, singing, and laughing until we were sick to our stomachs (or maybe that was just Ann's pregnancy 😜). And again, it was neat to see the back stage of site development. Something that we don't see much as volunteers since we are just sent where our bosses have already been to and explored.

On the way out, we headed in the other direction and it took only about 20 minutes and the road wasn't nearly as bad haha. We vowed NEVER to go that way again! We stopped by and saw Tiffany and then they brought me home before heading to where they were staying the night. So much fun.

El Día de la Eliminación de la Violencia Contra la Mujer

25 de noviembre 2014

Today is El Día de la Eliminación de la Violencia Contra la Mujer.

We had all the kids in one classroom this morning. Some munchkins did a drama and shared a poem. We watched a few videos. Each teacher then spoke of what that meant and how we can fight it.  They said it all but then it was my turn. I had to fight back the tears I was sharing with a few from the crowd that I saw bowing their heads, trying to hide. I know their stories.

But all I did was assign them homework. To go home and hug their mothers, father, grandmothers, siblings, aunts, uncles, whoever in the home. Told them that we have two arms and two hands and WE choose what to do with them. Today, we chose to hug instead of hit. 

When they left, I received over 15 hugs from my kiddos and upon visiting one family shortly after class let out, a mother told me that her son came home and immediately gave her a big hug.

My heart is heavy, sharing the pain of those that I know suffer from this reality. But it is also filled with love for those few that DO listen and DO try and make a difference. No matter how small. All they need is someone who cares and someone who shows them that their hands can, in fact, be used for love.

Our Blood Runs Together

23 de noviembre 2014

Last Monday Kilvio and I took a trip to Mao. We had brought a letter to the director of agriculture in DaJabon and he sent the letter to the main man in Mao, the next level up in the ministry. A week later, Casilda called and we set up the date to meet him personally to discuss the office and its fate. Unfortunately, that Sunday before, Casilda's son fell very ill and they had to take him to the hospital in Santiago. So Monday morning I arose at 4am and Kilvio and I alone caught the 5:45am bus from Loma to head to Mao, about two hours away. We arrived a little early, drank a cafecito in the park and chatted for a bit, hoping the fate of the office would be stated that day. We took another little guagua to the office and met the regional director. He seems like a good man. Spoke of the difficulties of obtaining an office and reiterated that it would be a shared office, just like we agreed. But the decision wasn't his to make. He has to send the letter and project proposal even higher up in the Ministry, to the office in the capital. And then he softened a bit. We discussed the dire necessity in our little community and he said he understood. He shared a moment that he remembers to this day of when he saw his first book when he was little in his campo school. He was in sixth grade, it was red, and about Juan Pablo Duarte. He remembers vividly picking it up and feeling it for the first time and how the pages smelled, brand new. Incredible. He couldn't give us a date of when he would bring the letter and when the committee was going to come to see the office (they HAVE to see it personally to gauge the condition before making a decision) because he said he's a man of his word. So if he says a date, he doesn't like to fail.

So with a hand shake goodbye, a promise of a phonecall, and a twinkle behind the horribly magnified glasses, we were off, left with newfound hope but the same old standstill. We made three store stops and made the bus by 10:30am back to Loma. I had to wait in Loma for an hour and a half for something to Mariano but I made it eventually.

So why three stores you ask? Bags. Bags? Yes. To do this:

The day I spent putting up the lights in my house and making a star, I had Casilda come over to give me advice on where to put the last strand. Afterwards, she sat and cried and cried with me in my house. Saying how every year at Christmas she decorates her house. But this year, it's just not in her. Her six kids want it but she doesn't have the drive or energy to do it. So that same Sunday she left for Santiago with her son, I collected her kids and asked what kinds of things they used to do to decorate. Told them that we were to going to make something to surprise their mom. Jose took charge and was the genius behind it all. I didn't quite understand the concept of this tree but I bought three packets of each colored bag (about 100 bags in each packet at $10 pesos a packet) thinking it was plenty. Ha.

That night we started. The kids found a wooden pole for the middle, a nail, wire for the branches and made stakes with a machete and sticks. The base was formed, we cut all of the bags in half and started tying knots. So so many knots. But the bags ran out, and fast. With those three packets all cut in half, we managed to finish one single branch. Haha so for precisely that reason, three stores later in Mao, I walked away with 9 more packets of EACH color (30 packets in total-3,000 individual bags, cut in half=6,000 bags to tie). When I arrived Monday in Mariano, I headed there around 4pm alone. Slowly but surely kids would pass by, stop, and ask if they could help. Claro! At one point, I think I had almost 20 kids working at once, all around the tree. And at 10pm with the headlight of a moto to illuminate our work, we finished. Using every last bag bought and cut. I can't even describe how blessed I felt and how proud I was of all my kiddos in the community who worked tirelessly to finish it in just two nights.

The gang in the end. We then made flowers out of plastic bottles we found in the street and I added glitter to make some designs (again, Jose? Creative Genius). The center of each flower is the cap of the bottle.

One set we put on the door and two more on either side of the window. 

When she arrived, she cried. And told us she was mad at us while hugging me tighter than she's ever hugged me before :) She wants to finish with a few special touches of her own and then we are going to take some family photos. I'll post when the time comes.

I think God made a mistake in not telling me I had a sister in another country. And that I had nephews and nieces that I would love as if we shared the same blood. But como quiera our blood runs together. And though He made a mistake, I'll forgive Him. Because after all this time and all the crazy confusion of where I belonged here in this country of mango trees and bachata music, He finally sent me here to meet them. And to love them unconditionally.

And who can stay mad at God for very long, anyways?

Sugar Coffee, Rain Clouds, Baseball, and Dominoes

24 de octubre 2014

Just going to give an update on life since nothing crazy different is going on but it's been a little while since I've posted.

Classes are still chugging along. 

Technology classes with 4th-8th are a roller coaster. One week I planned poorly and because of that, behavior was difficult to manage. I lost my patience but was slapped in the face with kindness and love in return from my kiddos. And loved every bit of the pain in my cheeks. This past week, we got enough batteries for every child to have a keyboard and it went much much smoother. They all wrote their own stories all starting with "Había una vez" (Once upon a time) and ending with "Colorín colorado, este cuento se ha acabado." Some were from their imaginations while others were stories they had been told (and some, quite morbid!). But I fell in love. I decided I didn't want them to delete them so I made sure they were saved. That led to me sitting for 3 hours, copying their stories onto my iPad. I then created a story page to print for each student, copying and pasting clipart (to accompany their dogs, frogs, goats, dolls, motorcycles, etc) below so they would each have their own mini cuento. Each, meaning all 54 of them. Haha this next week they're going to retype them and share (because did I mention, I had to correct so many misspellings and lack of punctuation??). I hope they like them!

English classes are always a blast and I'm learning as I go-better ways to teach from last years lessons and more fun games and activities to make the class less-copy and more-play/practice. In the community class we are so much farther than I've ever gotten. I have to admit, I'm loving that part of it and I really feel as though they're learning a ton-they prove me right every week as I speak more and more in English and they understand me!

Working with our kindergarten teacher is still just as rewarding and fun. We've finished setting up the classroom and making all sorts of interactive posters on the wall (a calendar that they have to put the numbers on and change the month, an attendance one where they put their names that are written on ducks in the correct pocket with "male" or "female" and change the days next to "Yesterday was..." "Today is..." And  "Tomorrow will be..." Etc). We are now deep into planning, ensuring that we follow the manual from the Ministry of Education (and making a list...a very long list... Of the didactic materials we are lacking and want bought lol Hopefully that dream becomes a reality! A kindergarten with no scissors, crayons, colored paper, glue, etc is truly a challenge) and creating "projects" based on themes chosen by the little munchkins themselves. After yesterday's journey around the community observing all around us, we chose our current project: Animals! I just spent today printing out the story of "The Little Red Hen" (where the hen is making bread and with every step in the process she asks for help but the duck, dog, and cat refuse. Of course until she asks who wants to help eat it! And she says no! Haha). I then found clipart of the characters, cut them out and glued them to cardboard (from boxes of granola bars and crackers I didn't want to throw away) and glued them to Popsicle sticks. The teacher wasn't there today which gave me time to finish the lesson materials in the hopes that Monday she likes it and the kiddos can act out the story :)

The Biblioteca Tecnológica is at a standstill. We received the phone call from the Presidential Palace saying that all they needed was my committee president's cedula number. This *could* mean that they are going to cover all of the funds needed. But we are waiting... And have no way of calling them to find out (the call came in as restricted). So then there's all the institutions and small business owners that we brought solicitation letters to. Do we go as a follow up and start collecting funds and materials? When we might not need any of it? Then there's the location... We called again to find out the status of the solicitation letter and its response. Still no word from the head office. And we were told that they will have to come personally to see the state of the office first. Bueno. When in the world will that be? We don't know. 

But we had a meeting with the community last week. Wanting to keep the motivation and excitement alive even though there weren't many results to share (to accompany all the work we have done!). It didn't go well. Beautifully planned and ready to be executed but life in the DR stood in our way. After 3 hours and getting their hair done and uniforms ready for their dance routine to start out the meeting, my 5 dancers were ready to go. And halfway through the first song, we lost electricity. Way earlier than it normally goes out. And then the CD refused to read in the computer (which was all set up as a back-up plan with my portable speakers! We were so prepared, damn it). Also, only 6 adults showed up from the community... So we postponed our final dinámica/activity (which I was in love with) for the next meeting.

But such is life!

This week, I was told that our psychologist, the one who I've teamed up with for the Escuela de Padres y Madres and the one who hungers for knowledge and new ways to do things, is leaving us. Headed to a new community and we don't know if we will get another one. That hit me hard. Without her, the parenting school will fall through the cracks because the only one who can keep it running is our director. And he now has his first grade class in the afternoons-when the meetings are scheduled... She is, however, going to the community where Tiffany (a phenomenal new volunteer) is living and working. So while it hurts to know she's leaving, I'm very happy for Tiffany and the community of Las Rosas because they are going to have such a blessing working with them. Someone who has a passion that's hard to find these days. And they will only benefit greatly from it.

Yesterday, non-work related, I hosted a Rosary session in my house. You heard right. About 15 women from the community came over and we said the rosary together-complete with the mysteries, prayers, scripture readings, and songs (I've almost got the Hail Mary down in Spanish! Haha). They've been making their way around the community, doing this once everyday of the week in the homes of those who wish to host and I was asked by Dominga (my goddaughter's mother) if I wanted to be next! Afterwards, I made juice (from a package, not all natural-don't get too excited) and we had crackers to accompany it. What an honor. And I have to say, I felt the presence of a very special person from back home-you know who you are and I hope you felt it too.

For now, I believe that is all :) As the world keeps turning here, changes are being made while other things are staying the same. But we continue to drink coffee with way too much sugar, sit in plastic chairs watching the rain clouds roll in, and play a little bit of baseball or Dominoes in times when we just need a break. 

Abrazos y besos to all back home. As you know, I miss you everyday.

The Beauty within the Darkness

Sometimes there's no electricity and the world around us is dark.

Sometimes siblings nag each other and it turns into a fight.

Sometimes parents don't always make the best decisions and their kids are left to suffer.

Sometimes men do wheelies on motorcycles and hurt themselves or someone else.

Sometimes teachers are tired and don't teach their best class.

Sometimes money is tight and hunger strikes.

Sometimes a child is left behind who doesn't know how to read.

Sometimes good people sleep when there's a world to change out there.

Now, answer me this. The above; the Dominican Republic? Or the United States?

Exactly.

You don't know for sure. Neither do I.

Problems exist everywhere. First world countries, third world countries, your neighbor's house, or yours. There is darkness, exhaustion, confusion, and complacency. I see flaws everyday here. But when I go online (my only portal back home), these flaws and others are seen too. Posted all down my newsfeed from friends and family back home. Some of the articles from home sicken me more than what I witness here.

So today I want to celebrate. Celebrate the beauty that lies within what seems to be darkness in the life of the DR. Things that make me proud, smile, laugh, and sing. Because there's so much of it. And I'll admit, I haven't done them justice. I challenge you as well, to read these and then make a list of your own from back home. Because some try and find the good, while others drown in the depths of the ugly. 

Which will you choose?

Today, I witnessed a movement that is being spoken of from the top dogs in the Ministry of Education. Many movements such as these are shared but never executed. Here, in my little campo of Mariano Cestero, we executed one: Recreo es Divertido (Recess is Fun). Recess is a half an hour a day where the kids are free to run, play volleyball, jump rope, basketball, etc while the teachers grab little chairs and sit outside the school grounds in the shade. Fights often break out. Kids fall and cut themselves. Or ride bikes in the dangers of the street where motos whiz by. 

Today we shut the doors. The director had his bank of games and the kids all got together to play WITH the teachers. There were competitions and games galore. Everyone was engaged. The teachers helped monitor, play, and teach. It was an absolute blast. I lost my voice from screaming so hard. And when I left, hearing the screams from the kids didn't make me cringe thinking about the fight that just broke out, it made me smile knowing some team had just found victory.

Beauty.

This week and last, I've been working with our new kindergarten teacher. I've seen so many that look at the content of this grade and pick and choose what they want to teach. Never changing the room to organize it how the manual says and often write a daily schedule and never follow it. But she is different. She approached me, admitted that she knew little of how to teach kindergarten, found all the materials and information and said, "Let's work together." As a team, we've started rearranging the room, making new signs and posters, organizing all the beautiful resources available that have gone untouched, and read what needs to be done and how. It's still a work in progress but she approaches me everyday with new things to do, new ideas, and new questions.

Beauty.

My English classes with 7th and 8th grade have gone on for three weeks now. We start every class with the song, "Happy" by Pharrel Williams and we sing and dance together. They genuinely know the word 'happy' and what it means and work hard every single Friday. They listen, write, practice, and lose their "vergüenza" in order to learn as much as possible. They're excited for class each week and always remind me on Thursdays that we have class the next day. I feel such pride and love for them and hunger for the hugs I'm given everyday. And hey, if all they know on the final exam is the word "happy," I will honestly still be just as excited.

Beauty.

My committee for our Biblioteca Tecnológica is a rock. A few members fall out occasionally for life reasons but we continue to push forward, always picking up the slack where it falls. When we get together, whether purposely to talk of the project or not, we are motivated and ready to continue the fight. The process is long, but my faith in us goes unbroken.

Beauty.

Viviana is my 25 year old mother who is working on reading. She has taken classes in the past and always given up. A few months back, she approached me and asked me to teach her. Every week since then, once or twice a week, we have class. Her motivation and passion is incredible. And shows in her progress. Her self confidence lacks at times but through various activities, I've been able to prove that she is improving and I now hear less and less "I forgot" from her. And in the weeks where I get crazy and am unable to have class, I see her reading her notebook outside on her patio or under the shade of a mango tree. Never giving up even when I falter.

Beauty.

Kilvio and I made a trip to Loma de Cabrera, Santiago de la Cruz, and DaJabon to hand in solicitation letters for help with our Biblioteca Tecnológica project. One stop was with an institution called "Save the Children." I met a woman, Anita, who works in various communities with many initiatives and ways to promote the rights of children-in all ways (education, health, discipline, etc). Her passion and drive for making a change in her own country was impossible to ignore and bursting from the seams. She's excited to team up with Peace Corps volunteers because our goals and purposes are the exactly same. And it's true. We were limited on time, but after exchanging numbers and promising to get together soon to share ideas and projects, I left her office exploding from the chest with love.

Beauty.

And there they are. Certainly not all but recently what's been making my heart beat faster and grow with pride and love for this country and these people. Tonight we won't have electricity, but I know all that is singing in my soul will be enough light to bring out the sunlight of tomorrow.

The Call of a Lifetime

We might have our project funded entirely, all at once, and by the President of the Dominican Republic.

When I see the numbers on a check or in our bank account, I will update.

Also. I updated this one Facebook but not here. In the last two weeks, we've gotten water through the faucet THREE times. Once even on my laundry day. It's been over half a month and I have yet to see the bottom of my water tank. GLORIA A DIOS.

Tomorrow.

1 de October 2014

Wow. September flew by. And as I lay here absolutely exhausted from today's classes (all 5 of them), I'm struggling as to which parts of my many thoughts to address. But I shall try and share them anyways, hopefully somewhat cohesively.

I may have mentioned this before but it still amazes me. When I first received that blue envelope with my invitation and copious amounts of information, I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by what was about to be my reality in a country I had only ever seen on a map. Overwhelmed by the fact that I was going to live away from home for TWO whole years (and 3 months). And overwhelmed by the unknown: what would I struggle most with, my everyday life or my PC job?

Overwhelmed. And now? More than a year later, I am looking forward and backwards. All that I've done, not done, and what's left ahead of me. 8 more months. 2 years used to seem so incredibly long. But oh how it has flown by... And I've only got 8 months? That's not enough time for anything. I feel panicky and doubtful.

But then my thoughts continue. Would a year be enough? Another year after these 8 months? 2 years? The answer I know to be true is a deafening "No." And sometimes that kills me. Whether I'm home in the states or here, there are always ways we can better ourselves, always ways we can better others, and always ways we can change the future. A single lifetime will never be enough. Here nor there. Here, things just become more challenging with the cultural differences. There are things I want to change. Things I want to scream. Ways I want to make them listen. Sometimes I doubt myself, with reason. Things don't always have to be the way we do them. Other times, I doubt myself when I see how poorly the kids behave in school and how physical abuse is used as punishment and it works. And I think to myself, "Well, I guess my methods would never work here. It's just a different world." 

And then I do another backflip and prove myself wrong again. I had 5 technology classes today. Planned, prepared, and executed the way I would back in the states (with limited resources, of course). And it went beautifully. From 4th grade all the way through 8th, we did a dinámica, an art activity to gauge their understanding before teaching any material, and then an introduction to the mini keyboards. They behaved. Had a blast with the dinámica and art. And took such good care of the keyboards and worked flawlessly in pairs (because there isn't enough for all). 

My methods do work sometimes. So what's the problem? Complacency? A culture that for years and years has functioned one way doesn't just change with one person. And if that culture allows for more time to eat breakfast, more time to sit outside the school grounds during recess, less time planning at home, and less caring (because sometimes, the more we care, the more it hurts us)? Why change?

This is my reality. There are things I would never be able to change in 2 years, 3 or even 10. I have to accept this... it's still a work in progress and may forever be. But I will never like it.  But there are also things I was never supposed to change...

So I will just continue to love my kids and love when I have my own classes with them (no matter how crazy it gets and even when I get accused of "robbing the kids' recess time" when I simply ask if we can start on time because I want to successfully teach two more classes in the time allotted to me...).  I'm certainly not always right, and sometimes when I am, I'm ignored. It's just one of those parts of life, PC life maybe, and it's okay. 

At the end of the day, we are alive and well and trying to make tomorrow better. For now, it's just about tomorrow. And that's all we can do.

When a Single Day Trumps Nearly All of Last Month

26 de septiembre 2014.

Start of English classes.

I was with three kiddos in the clinic. 2/3 from fighting. And I may or may not have flipped out about the lack of responsibility in the teachers in front of some parents and lit the match that may start a wildfire. I was lecturing this poor child who got a stick to the stomach about how he needed to approach an adult when he was first hit in the head with the stick. He apparently did. And she did nothing. The parents there agreed with me and one father went storming off to the school. It may fizzle out but I got some passion out of them. That's why it's still just a lit match.

Planning for the first official Escuela de Padres y Madres meeting next Friday with our psychologist, Doris.

Having Doris beg me to invite her to the next teacher conference we have (after having no one go with me to this last one) and saying that she wants to soak in and learn as much as possible with me here in this last year because the more she learns and seeks knowledge, the better teacher and person she'll be... It doesn't matter if it's an entire weekend or if it's in Santiago or at her neighbor's house. She said, "Invite me, and I'm there." Wow. 

Meeting with GRUJDECO to continue plans.

New plans made to motivate another community group that exists but is currently dormant to work on the water project and another to work on their electricity project (Vara de Vaca never has luz). In this way, we can animate them to find their drive again AND tackle more community projects on our list without taking on the full responsibility ourselves. Win-Win? I think so.

My promise to continue bugging the president man. Oh yea, I'm gonna be such a pain and I don't care. But if your old, saggy ass is going to hit on me because I'm white and give me your business card? You asked for it buddy. And for those reading this back home, excuse my vulgarity? 

That is all.

When Moments of Panic Turn to Peace

This week was COPRS Forum. Basically it's just a set of two days with various meetings held by every sector here in Peace Corps DR. Any volunteer can go, it's not obligated, and attend meetings to reflect, plan, or learn more information about other initiatives out there. I left Wednesday and arrived around 3pm, taking the day to relax after the travel and see so many of my friends I haven't seen in forever. Thursday was the day of Education meetings. It was great. We've got plans to make an Early Childhood Manual for parents and teachers, we reviewed the recent Escojo Enseñar Conferences and planned for the next ones, and learned all of the successes of our fellow volunteers in their communities. Great, but also overwhelming. A big piece of advice always said by all (including me) is to NEVER compare your service with others. And I've always tried hard to abide by that. But oh the success stories, and the incredible initiatives and creativity. I lost it by the end of the day. On the verge of tears and feeling as though I've slept through my entire service in comparison. 

I never felt this way in my site. It was only going there and listening and drowning in it all that I was swept off my feet, and not in the love kind of way. I tried justifying it all to no avail. I tried using it to motivate me to do more, only making my heart race and stomach flip at the reality of my personal experiences and failed attempts. Tried convincing myself that what I'm doing is enough, but Washington and it's need for numbers hovered over my head, menacingly. 

But I carried on, enjoyed the time spent with my friends and meeting news ones who I hadn't ever seen before. I wanted to go to my old site Friday and head back Saturday but Linda never answered her phone. I didn't want to risk going out there, having her not be there, and not having enough time to get back to my home. So I left Friday morning with Matt and Kinnerly from my neck of the woods. I chatted with a decent younger man on the Caribe Tours bus, we made it to DaJabon on time to get the last bus to Mariano Cestero, and even through the hour and a half wait while they fixed the bus after it broke down in Loma, it all hit me again. As we weaved through the winding roads, rose and fell with the land, felt the air blowing through the windows fill my lungs with a purity I always miss when I leave, watched the boney cows grazing in the fields and between pine trees, and saw the familiar faces of my munchkins and old folks in my town, panic turned to peace. I made it back to my house and was welcomed with a warm hug from my Dominican mother, took a cold and refreshing bucket shower, drank fresh coffee picked, peeled, roasted, grinded, and boiled right from our backyard, organized and unpacked, and headed to see my sister, Casilda, and her son. 

I saw them all and forgot all that ailed me only a day before. I gave Casilda and her family a children's bible (just four stories written for kids and with beautiful drawings) and she cried with gratitude, saying she would bring it every time she went to hospital with her son. And as dinner was given to me, her little boy, with cancer eating away at his liver and tiny 2 year old body, came over to me and began to eat. He had apparently not eaten a single thing that day and hardly anything the day before. I placed him gently on my lap and he nearly ate my entire bowl of boiled guineos. I was humbled, honored, and so incredibly at peace, kissing his cheeks with every bite and soaking in his absolutely beautiful smiles and giggles.

I may not do all the incredible initiatives and programs and trainings as my counterparts. Washington may look at my service after two years and wonder why they even sent me here in the first place. I may not leave much behind when I go. But this life, this family, and this love I have felt here has forever changed my life and my drive. I may not know what's next but Lord only knows I would have left the pages of this chapter of my life empty and torn if I never came. I only hope and pray that those here feel just as I do and remember me. Always knowing that I truly loved them more than I ever thought possible.

Stuck In Colder Weather

Things are slow moving. After the Escojo Enseñar Conference, I took my time getting back to school and didn't miss much. But the list of things I'll be doing this year only grew. 

1. English classes for 7th and 8th grade.

2. English classes in the community on Sundays-started last Sunday.

3. Literacy classes with Viviana-She's improving and I'm so proud.

4. Technology classes for 4th-8th grade- FUDECO sent 30 little keyboards that are kind of like computers. My director wants me to teach the kiddos how to type on them and how to use them.

5. Escuela de Padres y Madres-Helping the psychologist to plan. Though when I went to her house Sunday afternoon to begin, she simply had me cover her various notebooks with construction paper and draw pretty things on the covers... Gaining Confianza? 

6. Monthly Grupos Pedagógicos- this is me still fighting to find a way to teach my teachers from The Escojo Enseñar manual. I may have an in by starting to teach them how to look things up on the internet and print since that seems to be all I'm good for when I do go into the school as of late. 

7. La Biblioteca Tecnológica- we haven't heard from the president man yet so we need to call this week and get that going. I really miss Casilda and her drive... But this weekend is the raffle and comedy show to keep raising funds.

8. Literacy classes for 1st and 2nd grade. I'm putting that off for now but I'll start in October.

9. Yluminada- with her multi-grado, one classroom school, I'd like to do something better and more sustainable to help her. But I'm still struggling.

My heart isn't in all of these things but in some. But the wants of my community and school matter more, so off I go! Unfortunately I got my third staph infection just behind my left shoulder and it's been hell. The pain from this one was the worst and sleeping was impossible due to its location. I believe I've gotten the worst of it out, and just got my antibiotics, so we are on the road to healing. And I disinfected my house yesterday by washing every article of clothing, sheets, dishes, by dusting, and by cleaning the floors. And somehow it still doesn't feel like enough. But we're no worse off than we were before ;)

The water situation is worse, my director slammed the gates shut and hard so we are no longer able to go to the school for water. The closest river is either dried up or dirty because it seems as though people are doing their business in it. The next closest river is now a competition. Whoever gets there first, gets water. The next? Far and down a ridiculous hill... I had to stop and rest more than 10X to make it back to my house the last time I went there (having a bad arm, didn't help I'm sure) haha.

Much love and hugs are being sent home from the colder weather here in the mountains. I miss all of you back home lots. I hope you all know and believe that.

Escojo Enseñaring It Up

The last weekend of August was our Conference. I unfortunately wasn't able to have anyone from here go with me, but it was alright. There were teachers from Restauracion, Rio Limpio, Los Cerezos, Las Rosas, and Santiago. I teamed up for two charlas-Literacy and the importance of a "culture of reading" in the classroom, and the making and use of didactic materials. They both went so well but the second was my favorite. After the lecture part, we split the teachers into groups and sent them to stations where they had didactic materials laid out, a grade selected, and a lesson topic. They had to fill out a lesson plan and create a interactive, main activity using the materials. They were incredible in their creativity. When they presented, we lost track of time because I didn't want to stop them from sharing. It was sheer beauty and I had to be careful to hold back my tears of pride.

^^The wall we created with their ideas and some materials The girl at the top made of toilet paper rolls, hair of yarn, and eyes of bottle caps? Her name is Julie <3

The last day we wrote one thing we were going to take home with us that we got out of the conference on apples and taped them on a big tree. Most were technical things. Mine? "A passion to push forward to reach each teacher and child for our tomorrow." And when I shared and explained I said that even though I'm not Dominican, this is where my heart lies and this is why the tomorrow belongs to us.

I didn't take too many pictures due a craziness that was organizing and making sure things were running smoothly but on the Facebook page there are a ton. Check them out :)

Mi Querido Ángel Miguel

Saturday the 16th, I hear yelling and a bunch of people running outside my house. Upon asking around, I hear that one of Casilda's twin boys (almost 2yrs old) fell very ill and was in the clinic. They then got rushed to the hospital in Restauración. The world seemed to blame whatever it was on the chinola he had just eaten that morning...

But things only got worse. In the middle of the week, they then moved to Santiago Rodriguez which is where he was born. His stomach was swelling and he wasn't eating or going to the bathroom. I called everyday to check on him but it got harder each time. I tried watching out for her 5 other kids left here with the grandfather and praying hard for the little man. I even made the decision to go visit that Thursday but when I called, she told me they were filling out the paperwork to get sent to Santiago... Not good. He went into intensive care and his parents were left outside to sleep in their truck..

Last Saturday I then get a phone call from another community member and am told that he needs blood and that I need to put a Facebook status up asking for someone to donate. I was confused but did it. It turns out, people don't really donate blood in this country. There are blood banks but you have to bring a person to donate in order to receive blood. Even with money, it's difficult. I'm a mess. So I called Maria. I have type O+ and I can donate to whatever blood type...right? But the big guy that runs PC slams the door in my face. Volunteers aren't allowed to donate. My head spun. Sitting here in my campo, knowing in my heart I could do something to save him and then being told I can't? That feeling is my worst enemy. 

Some people moved. Felix was on the phone all day with hospitals trying to find blood. Apparently a pint in the capital and one in Mao were surfaced. But the little boys dad had to go and get it. Later I hear that he was already given two with no results... At this point, I still didn't know what he had (has-and still don't). 

I called Ann in tears. Asked her to forgive me but to ask why we weren't allowed to donate. Or what I could do from here. There had to be something. She asked for the father's number and said she'd call to see what she or her husband could do. He said that at that moment, they had what they needed. He had gotten the blood from the capital and the other pint from Mao was to be delivered the next morning. We would just have to wait.

It was a week and a half from Hell. School started, we had met the president and been given tons of work to do, and I had Escojo Enseñar Conference planning. And my heart wasn't in any of it. Anywhere I went, he was all people talked about. And the tears just never seemed to run my body dry.

They're saying he's better. He sat up and called for his dad one night. The next day he was playing and laughing. And he's now out of intensive care. But they're still running tests. It seems that he has something, some sort of illness but from what I gather, they still don't know what it is... Communication here is difficult. 

He's better, but he's not home yet. So many prayers have been sent for him and I want to thank all those back home for that. But don't stop just yet. Not until we celebrate and gather around the entrance of my campo as he arrives. I promise to let you all know as soon as that happens.

This little guy is his twin brother but this is just how absolutely adorable they are:

Their names are Ángel Miguel and Ángel Manuel. Two angels that we need here in Mariano Cestero because without one, an absolute void is left in his place.

No Worries, The President and I Are Best Friends

Well...not really.

So on the 13th of this month, I had the day planned out for planning our Escojo Enseñar Conference. Andria from Rio Limpio was coming up and we had lots of work to do. That morning, I find out from a neighbor, that the President of this country, Danilo Medina, was coming to Restauración to talk about education. Bueno. I couldn't go. I knew it would only be me sitting in the audience listening to great promises of a better tomorrow but hell, it would've been a cool chapter in the story book of my PC service, right? Ah well. My President of GRUJDECO, Casilda, however, went. And gave our solicitation letter directly to his secretary. I figured it would be a dead end, a lost piece of paper in the piles of his basura but como quiera, I was so proud.

Then that Friday. Our group and friends met to continue practicing for our comedy show planned for Sunday. We received an invitation letter to Restauración Sunday morning for a meeting held by the President's committee. It was for all groups and organizations in the area to present their projects or problems and for the committee to review and decide on those to provide support. Wow. Sounded good to us! So with plans for Casilda, Marizol, and I to go, we parted ways.

Sunday morning comes along and we arrive in Restauración (menos Casilda, plus Kilvio-see next blog) early. The meeting of course starts late and we are jumbled trying to get our group name down on the list to present. In the mess, we find out that the meeting is only for agriculture projects. Ha. NO WHERE in the invitation did it specify. So we were taken off the list but placed at the bottom "if there was time." Not moments later with much frustration brewing inside me, a man announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and greet the President of the Dominican Republic!" Surprise visit!! Haha And in a smaller setting I was able to sit and listen to projects being presented, the President ask questions, and then make a speech at the end. And in the midst of agriculture talk, other random projects were addressed to which he made promises to fully fund On. The. Spot. So not fair. But then he said his committee would return and those who presented and those who weren't able, were to bring detailed project proposals (with estimates, budgets, beneficiaries, etc) on Wednesday. His side kicks would review them and bring them back to him and he would be back again to deliver his response. 

So. Ignoring the fact that we aren't an agriculture group, we decided to go back Wednesday. That night I spent hours typing up a fancy Project Proposal with everything from our group history, our mission and vision, our census, our location, our estimates, and more. It is beautiful if I do say so myself ;) oh, and as the President walked out, I may or may not have strategically placed myself near his exit path. So as he passed me, he shook my hand and said, "Bye, bye." I know. BEST friends. Totally.

Wednesday, we waited for an hour for a bola only to find out the meeting got moved to Thursday. Thursday it is! And the meeting was an unorganized disaster. We weren't going to be able to present. We spoke with a man from here with connections who looked at our proposal, loved it, and grabbed me and dragged me over to one of the President's right-hand men, the Executive Coordinator of Presidential Projects, and just as he was about to leave. He himself looked it over, seemed to like it (and a few other things I won't mention. Ha.) and told us what we needed to do: write an official solicitation letter to accompany the proposal and follow his assistant to his truck. I got his fancy business card and then his assistant's. I wrote my number down for him and promised to call when we had it all ready. 

It's now Monday. Card done and shaking hands, I'm with my group and I'm the one who has to call. After much probing and pressure and laughter, I finally hit send. I get a secretary and explain who I am and why I am calling. She tells me to call his cellphone directly. The shaking grows. I dial. No answer. I wait a minute and dial again. 

"Hello."

"Hello, how are you doing today?"

"Hello, JULIE. I'm great."

AH! He knew my name! The conversation continues, they had apparently been waiting for my call. He said they will be passing through the area again sometime soon so they are going to give me a call the day before so we can be there to give them our project. He then passes me to the original, fancy guy I met and he jokes around with me for a while and he too promises that they will call.

SO CRAZY.

I'm trying not to get excited but if this all goes through well, we could have our entire project funded in an instant by the PRESIDENT HIMSELF. What an incredible blessing for my tiny little community of 400 people way up here in the frontier... I hardly even know what to think yet.

But for now...We just wait.

Being Cut Inside a Void

Lo que pasa es...

We no longer have a location for our Biblioteca Tecnológica... Looks like the only way the office with be given to us is by loaning it to us. Which I very frankly and clearly said that I would not be able to help in any way monetarily if the building is only loaned to us. Why, you ask? Because with the estimates we made on the renovations, it's about a $1,000,000 peso project. And in 2 years, 5 years, 10, lo que sea, they could turn around and go, "Oh hey, we want our office back now. You've gotta leave." After all the money, work, pride, sweat, and I'm sure blood that will be poured into it's concrete walls and electricity pumping batteries?

I just can't.

So new plans are in the making, maybe even building from the ground up. Might be cheaper in reality but will definitely take longer. And the last I spoke with another volunteer, the number 10 escaped her mouth for what remains in months of our service and I almost threw up. It's amazing how time and how it feels changes so drastically. Normally, 10 months is a long time. It no longer is. 

I'm beaten down, but never defeated. I still have faith. I still have fight. But when you cut yourself, naturally you react by pulling back, clenching your teeth, or swiftly covering it with an available hand. But only moments after, your body relaxes again and you move forward, even if the bleeding continues a little. After all, underneath and through the pool of blood rising, you know that a clot is slowly and quietly forming.

In other news, today is Wednesday and for the second week in a row on the same day of the week, the water truck came through. I don't want to get too excited that is could be a regular thing but I'll admit, I danced about it today. I didn't go to the river once last week. It's funny though, I almost miss it. A volunteer came to visit to work on conference planning and she asked what arm workouts I do... I laughed and silently showed her my best friends: my gallon jugs. But I swear to you due to a mood wave of seriousness currently washing over me that I can say that I miss it. Just don't tell the same self that is climbing up the hill next time, full jugs in hand, and heart pounding so hard she can feel it in her chest...

TiTin and my Doña left yesterday morning and it's killing me. They went to go visit one of her daughters in Santiago de la Cruz and the emptiness left behind the trails of guagua dust and cold negligence of the locked up house have made me restless. It still amazes me how deep these people seeped into my blood and became family, no biology included.

The President was in Restauración today. Ha, yup. And I had made plans so I couldn't go. I was told this morning. His whole shpeel was on education, kinda what I'm here for but my incredible committee President went and gave our solicitation letter to his Secretary. Maybe a dead end, but I'm proud as hell that she did that.

Tonight I went to visit a younger couple up the road. He had shot three palomas that day, was cooking one of them, and wanted me to have a taste. I ended up staying until 11pm sharing nightmares, horror stories of the nighttime here, ghosts and spirits and haunted houses, and then? All that Mariano Cestero used to be in the past. Full of life, events, compartiring, and just an all around feel of what a real community should be like-bonded as a family. They lamented that things have changed, no one seems to care anymore and in turn, the next up-and-coming generation is suffering and is going to continue to suffer. What happened? They simply don't know.

It's like the void I spoke about in a letter to my boss (see below). There's one part we can see or used to see. And then there's today and reality. But the middle is lacking, mysterious, and haunting. No one seems to understand what happened or how to combat it... Change is challenging. And while the past should remain in the past, sometimes it's a necessity to at least recognize it in order to learn from it. And then if there's no vision forward? Change becomes nearly impossible. Pero venga lo que venga, something's has to happen. 

As promised and as a close, here's my email to my boss. More thoughts flow behind its response but I'll save organizing and sharing those for when the response arrives:

Greetings and Peaceful Mornings from the Frontier!

Julie here with just some questions when her thoughts wander and a desire for understanding takes over. And I included our beloved Brenden in this email to continue expanding the possibility of answers.
In my experiences with the summer talleres last year and then seeing a few more here, this year, I find myself seeing (or rather, feeling) a void but am unsure as to where said void lies. Yesterday in my school, we sat tirelessly and read through the 52 page First Cycle Pedagogical Manual. And it's a beautiful document. It addresses all aspects from students with special needs, to the importance of taking 45 minutes a day to read aloud to your students, to creating a student-centered curriculum, to never using abuse as a form of discipline, to recycling, to the ambience and physical space of the classrooms, to teaching through interactive methods and games... etc. These creations and ideas are obviously sent down to the foundations of this country by the top dogs in the Ministry of Education. They know what they're talking about. And I know we've (us volunteers and you) discussed this before; about how their ideas, movements, initiatives, and programs (all synonyms?) are incredible and if applied could/WOULD mean a total facelift in what is to be the future education system of this country.
Entonces, qué sucede? We see them and their knowledge of all things proper and then we go into the schools in the pueblos, campos, and cities, and this is not what we see. There is a void. Somewhere these ideas are sucked away and lost and all that's left are chalkboards, notebooks, and an impatience so great that hitting a child is easier and apparently more effective than any other behavior management strategy.
I could sit here and just say that it's just a lack of motivation in the teachers. Which makes the students lose enthusiasm. And then turn and blame parents for not motivating their students to arrive on time or study. Which then makes the teachers lose motivation. The cycle in which we hear daily and a cycle very difficult for us, or anyone, to break free of. 
But maybe there's more? That's my question and forgive me for the long-windedness of the email to arrive at this point. Do you have a lot (or any really!) of experience looking into the universities in this country where teachers are molded and set free? What are the courses like? How do they learn? Do they learn all the goodies that the Ministry of Ed knows but choose not to use any of it? Or maybe arrive at reality and give up? Or maybe they don't learn these things so when they receive the material now, years in, for them it's useless to try and implement? Or they just don't feel they're paid enough to put the effort in?
Forgive me for some of the questions-they are innocent, I can promise you that. I just want/have a need to understand more. Maybe it all is just this cycle between teachers and parents but I guess I just don't want to accept that. Or while fighting to combat it currently, I would like to research and learn more to see if there's something else contributing to the beautiful battle we fight daily. Because if there is, and we can somehow get to the basis of it all (possibly opening up a whole other can-of-worms), the war might be less lengthy, less bloody, and both sides could walk out winning.

Take your time with this email and it's response if there is one! It's not on your top priority list right now, no worries :)
Hope all is well in the capital life.
Julie

Jumbled Update and a Search For Missing Treasure

Update from a both two weeks ago:

Dry rivers.

Small, red, wiggly, wormy thingys.

Meeting in DaJabon-bought diapers for Naomi and chancletas for TiTin-too small but he wears them.

EE Conference at the end of August-I've got two charlas.

SPA grant. $$$! But... I have less than a month to fill out the application with a TON of information I don't have yet.

Rifa-That's a raffle! It was a bed spread and we sold tickets for $25 pesos each. We raised $2,290 pesos!

Softball practice solo. Loved it.

River trip with 15 munchkins and lugging gallons back up the ridiculous hill.

Next Update:

Meeting the Ambassador of the DR. He was amazing and shared more of himself professionally and personally in 45 minutes than I could have imagined.

My boss, Mary-Also met her! It wasn't much but she seems great.

Sam's visit (blog to come!)

Census! Though I wasn't able to, my committee took the entire day last Sunday and did a census of Mariano, el Cruce, and Vara de Vaca. In total, we have 488 people that could benefit from our Biblioteca Tecnológica. 205 children in all grades. And of all the adults, 68% only attended and/or finished primary school (1st-8th). 18% attended and/or finished high school and only 8% have pursued or are currently pursuing a college career. Striking numbers... More estimates on location and materials are in the making as well.

GRUJDECO meeting with the community on Thursday-went really well! We cleared the air although the person who is fighting against us the hardest wasn't there. There is a distaste for the fact that the entire committee is made up of only people from the Cruce. This was not something done on purpose. Ideally, yes, we would have a few from here, a few from the Cruce, and a few from Vara de Vaca to fairly represent all. But I told them a little bit of my story, and I meant every word I said. I was originally in another campo far from here. I was going to be there working for two whole years. But it was 8 months. I spent those 8 months searching, fighting, searching, and crying out for people like these 4 I've got in my Committee. And in 8 months, I never found them. For that very reason my boss changed my site and sent me out here. I have complete faith in them and fully believe in their capabilities and drive. They are better than I am. And I love being able to say that. 

And with an applause to follow my speech, we left the meeting motivated and calm.

Staph infection. Gone! That was ugly and I'll save the details :) But with a whole left in my right leg, it's no longer swollen and I'm walking normal! Woo!

Saturday (yesterday). After three trips to the river Friday and two early Saturday morning, I was able to get enough water to wash my clothes. Afterwards, I disconnected the plugs and went to rinse off my hands. What I didn't realize was that the still-connected extension cord had fallen into that bucket of water. I put my hands in and ZIP, total body electrocution to the point of which I fell over and cut open my infected leg. Shit did that hurt. Haha shaking for a while, I laid down and soon felt better. I then was able to go pay for my internet, help a friend get an injection to cure his Staph (yea, it's spreading around my community but I didn't start it!), and started working more on Escojo Enseñar Conference planning. Casilda stopped by and we made a few more phone calls to get estimates on computers. That was when Francheska came in and asked where Baraquito was. Since I had gotten back on Wednesday, he wasn't here. Everyday they told me he was at his mother's in Tierra Sucia. He always goes there by himself, usually doesn't tell anyone, but never stays more than a day. I thought it was strange that he hadn't come back yet but they assured me he was there. But then Francheska said that his mother had seen Nena Thursday and asked where Baraquito was. Nena thought he was here, in Mariano. My head spun. He left Wednesday, but then his mother basically said he wasn't with her Thursday. It was now Saturday. Casilda saw my face, understood my worry, and went with me to investigate more. Asking more questions and talking to more people, no one really knew where he was. But they all said I couldn't go to Tierra Sucia that late 7pm because not even motos enter there, it would only be afoot and it would be dark before we arrived. I looked at Casilda with tears pouring down my face and said, "I don't care about that. No one knows where he is and his life is more valuable than walking." She simply replied, "Let's go." I couldn't have loved her more than I did at that moment. We gathered up a group: her, her cousin who is my age, Osiris (the only one who knew the way), Estarlin, and Francheska, grabbed flashlights and water and left. What a trek. An hour and a half later through the hills and woods, we arrived in the dark of the night...

And there he was. I cried so hard and hugged him. We explained to his mother why we went and that if he was happy, being fed, and loved, that he could stay. We weren't looking to take him away from his mother, only to know that he was safe and well. His plan, however, was to return to Mariano the following day alone so he decided to just leave with us. He cried too, and for a moment I just held him, knowing he didn't want to go back and face his father but knowing he had to.

Another hour and a half back and we made it, singing, shouting over the mountains that we found the treasure and were bringing it home, and soaking in the breeze that blew through the tops of the hills. His father was waiting for us when we got back. But of course, the conversation went nowhere (even turned into how, dizque, everyone in Mariano is smoking marajuana... Yep.). I stayed in my Doña's house waiting for his father to leave so I could be sure he wasn't going to hit Baraquito. But at midnight, he grabbed his two little ones and called for Baraquito to follow him home and sleep there.. For the first time since I've gotten here, he was going to have his son sleep abajo with him. My heart sunk and my chest burned. But there is always a limit to how much you can protect someone. And I hit that limit hard.

Problems have now arisin with this trip and I fear for the consequences. I fear them not for me, however, but for how they will affect Baraquito and maybe my work here. But despite it all, it was worth it. And I would go and search for him all over again if given the chance to go back in time.

La Lucha!

2 de Julio 2014. And the lucha has begun! This morning I arose at 7am after working until 1:30am last night. It was the day to start raising money for our project. Last night we had a meeting, just the committee and I, to discuss the chisme spreading about the group and to clear the air. It went really well. And after the day I had yesterday, I may or may not have shed some tears sharing a bit of my story.

People have been talking. Because the entire committee is made up of community members from el Cruce, those from here adentro de Mariano believe that they are fighting to put the center out there, and not in the more central location here. And they know people have been approaching me about this. So they cleared the air. For about an hour before they allowed me to talk. It was a bit overwhelming. But I've seen their passion and continue to witness it. I told them that for almost 8 months in KM59 I was searching, praying, and searching some more to find people like them. And after 8 months of no such luck, my boss made the decision to pull me out. But she made the right decision. As hard as it was, there was no one like these four here in my new home. No one. This was the moment when the tears fell. They told me they loved me and if my boss ever tried to pull me out of Mariano, they would hold a strike so big, my boss wouldn't be able to enter the community. It's funny.  KM59 said the same thing. I wanted to believe them. But then they remained in their homes doing laundry or cleaning the day that Ann came to take me away. But this time? I can honestly tell you that I believe them. And it feels incredible.

Anyways, afterwards we planned for today. So I went home and made two cartulinas:

Our group name, "Collection of Funds" and what it was for; our Biblioteca Tecnológica. So at 8am, I arrived in the Cruce and with a rope and red shirt tied to it, we made a Parada. The rope was crossed over the main road and anytime a moto or car or truck approached, we raised the rope to signal them to stop. We showed the posters, explained our cause, and asked for their support; anything they could give, even if it was a single peso. And for 5 hours in the blazing sun we worked. And in the end? Raised $2,405RD. Pretty damn awesome if you ask me. It's not much but it's a start. And yet again, this was not my idea and I didn't do much to run it. Even more beautiful asi.

And just para que sepan, this is the main location we're looking into doing it: 

It's got two main, bigger rooms:

 a bathroom:

Two smaller side rooms (I'm thinking an office and then tearing down the one wall of the other to make the library half a little bigger):

A kitchen area, water storage hole, and two entrances. It needs work as I'm sure you can tell. And while we would have to have two people managing it at all times since it's separated, I LOVE the idea of having a separate library space and internet center space. I'm absolutely serious when I say I don't see what these pictures portray when I visit there. I already see the walls painted (lots of different drawings included-maybe a map of the DR, flag, a tree made out of handprints of my munchkins, etc), the bathroom beautifully made up, the shelves filled with books (we've already started that movement from all the help from YOU back home!), the chairs and couches (I know, dreaming big) to comfortably sit and read, the computers buzzing with power, and the outside made up with the name and other drawings to make it look appealing. Maria (our doctor) went to the capital this week and brought our letter to solicite the location. Here's to winning them over and hoping that by showing the owners the pictures and it's horrible condition, they'll gladly give it up for a better cause.

And now? With one burnt shoulder and un sueño fuerte, I'm resting. The damn sun in this country really is brutal sometimes ;) 

Abrazos y besos!