1st Anniversary

This past week was a busy one. At my CTC, we hosted an event to celebrate our first anniversary. We were a bit disorganized at first, and I was rather stressed for several days (the most stress I’ve experienced here!). However, everything came together at the last minute, and I was rather proud of the outcome. Everyone worked hard to prepare the center for all the visitors. We cleaned the CTC, decorated, set up chairs, discussed the procedure. Then everyone went home to get dressed, and when everyone returned, they were all so elegante! We were all proud and excited. We knew what this anniversary meant; it was finally an opportunity to promote our services and really show the community what a great resource the CTC is.

I had to say a few words for the ceremony, so I drafted a short speech beforehand. I’ve gotten used to speaking in front of people in spontaneous Spanish, but I wanted to say something special. During the event, I was a bit nervous, but I think it came out all right. So, here goes my speech (translation below):

Buenas tardes, señoras y señores estimados. Gracias por venir aquí. Su
presencia es muy importante para nosotros todos.

Yo tengo mucho suerte para vivir aquí in esta comunidad. Estoy
agradecida para trabajar en este gran CTC. Gracias a ustedes por aceptarme en su
comunidad.

El CTC ha logrado mucho en este año pasado. Ciertamente, este CTC es un
buen ejemplo de oportunidad y progreso. En el año que viene, espero que logremos
mucho más.

Queremos implementar más programas, más charlas y más talleres. Sin
embargo, necesitamos su ayuda. [Nuestro pueblo] tiene muchos recursos y buena
gente. Juntos, nosotros podemos movilizar la comunidad para hacer este CTC uno
de lo mejor en el pais. Si tiene un idea, un tema muy importante para la
comunidad, compartalo, y ¡lo hablemos! Aproveche el CTC, su CTC.

Este CTC es como una familia. ¡Juntenos y trabajemos juntos! Gracias
por el privilegio para ser una parte de esta familia.

And now the translation:

Good afternoon, esteemed ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you for coming here. Your presence is very important to all of us. I
am very lucky to live here in this community. I am grateful to work in this
great CTC. Thank you all for accepting me in your community.

The CTC has accomplished a lot in the past year. Certainly, this CTC is a
great example of opportunity and progress. In the coming year, I hope that we
accomplish much more.

We want to implement more programs, more talks, and more workshops.
However, we need your help. [Our town] has many resources and good people. We
can mobilize the community in order to make this CTC one of the best in the
country. If you have an idea, an issue very important to the community, share it
and let’s talk about it. Take advantage of the CTC, your CTC.

This CTC is like a family. Join us and let's work together! Thank you for the privilege to be a part of this family.

Now that I’ve translated it, it doesn’t sound as brilliant as I had hoped, but I’m still working on my Spanish. I think I have a long way to go before I can master the sophisticated literary manipulation of the language. Ah, one day.

So here I sit, glad that the event turned out great. Now, I must move on to my other project – my diagnostic report and presentation. I have a lot of work to do, and our conference is in a week!

Making posters!

Damas muy elegantes

My speech

Speaking with PC Volunteer Leader Kathy

Catching Up...

Hello Dear Readers,

I realize I have been a bit absent as of late. Wouldn’t you believe, I’ve been a little busy? This Peace Corps Volunteer actually has a social life too!

So where in the world have I been? Or more appropriately, where on this little island have I been?

For 4th of July weekend, I celebrated my American-ness with about 60 other gringos on the beautiful peninsula of Samaná. We all converged on a very quiet town on the end of the peninsula. It was almost as if we were at the edge of the world. On the 4th, we all escaped by boat to Playa Rincón, which has been deemed the most beautiful beach in this fair country. It was quite secluded (you only found gringos on this beach that day). We spent several hours sunbathing, ocean-bathing, and river-bathing (there was a very refreshing river that ran right into the ocean). That night, we celebrated with hamburgers and hot dogs, though I must say no one can beat my grandfather’s “cookout” burgers. After listening to some good ol’ fashioned American tunes by the likes of Michael Jackson and Madonna, we all went to the discoteca to partake in our newfound Dominican-ness.

The following week, I went to the capital to take care of some business. Many complain that the capital is the hottest part of this country, but I must say, the three days I was there were the most air-conditioned days I’ve had since I’ve been there. I don’t think I chanted my usual “Ah, hace calor. Hace calor.” once during those 3 days.

I am still working on my diagnostic. The conference to present my results is in less than 3 weeks. I’m ready to begin working on my projects, but my preoccupation with this diagnostic is taking up much of my time. However, the English classes I’ve been teaching give me a sense that I’m accomplishing something at least. Also, I’ve been planning an anniversary event at my center with the administrative committee. I feel a little bit like a producer, as if I’m working on a film set again. I’ve been offering my ideas, but I’m also learning to sit back and allow the committee to own this event.

So yeah, I’m hanging in there. As we like to say here, I’m always en la lucha (“in the fight”), whether it’s the heat, my communication mishaps, my desire for control, or my longing for comfort. But everyday I’m learning, and I’m getting a little wiser. And somewhere in all the work, I get my piece of paradise too.

Now, back to work…

Doña

Last night, dark storm clouds crept in from the horizon. The neighborhood was dark because there was no luz. It was a ghost town. Leaves blew about; the trees trembled. Thunder moaned in the distance. Lighting bolts dashed across the sky. A mist blew in as the rain started playing melodies on the tin roof. The smell of a summer storm wafted in the air.

Doña Esperanza, a tall hefty woman of 68 with thick eyeglasses and a toothy smile, and I sat quietly in the "galeria" (front porch) watching this drama unfold. We like to sit on the galeria a lot, to “coger fresco” (catch the breeze), compartir, and watch the neighborhood goings-on or observe flying objects or brewing storms. Usually we talk about the town, the luz, the weather, what I did that day, her brief life in Brooklyn, but I’ve never really broached the subject of family. So I asked her how many children she had. A simple and considerate question… People ask about families here rather than what you do for a living. However, her answer saddened me.

She told me that she had 3 children, but only was living (her daughter who lives with us). Her only son died while serving in the military when he was 21, but he wasn’t killed in combat. One day after doing some exercises with his group, he drank a hot soda (“refresco caliente” as she told me), and the next day, he died. The assumption was that something wrong with soda… Strange, but I didn’t want to pry any further into the circumstance.

Ten years ago, her daughter, a doctor, and her granddaughter, who was 7, were traveling to a town in the West, when their “guagua” had an accident and caught on fire. Four people were killed in the accident. As my Doña put it, two of them were hers.

I wish I could say that this was the only time this question of family elicited such a sad response, but it’s not…

When I was in training a few months ago, I was sitting down in the dining room to have lunch. My training host doña and I were chatting and I asked her about her children. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, leaned on the door frame, and started crying. She told me that she had just lost her daughter a year ago to a disease. I was speechless, and I felt so bad.

The doñas in this country shoulder a lot of weight. The majority of the time, they are the father and the mother to their children (Where are the fathers, you ask? They are either off having second or third families, they live on their own, or they’re working in the States and sending back money. Generally, fathers don’t provide emotional support for the family, just financial support.). Doñas work tirelessly to care for their families. They wake early in the morning to buy the groceries and begin cooking the mid-day meal. They spend the day washing clothes by hand. They scrub the house up and down. They gossip with the neighbors to find out the news of the town. They are the towers of strength in any family, and their opinions carry a lot of power. Doñas will hold you by the hand to point you in the right direction. Hungry? They will insist that you sit down as they serve you something to eat.

So last night, as I was sitting on the galeria with Doña Esperanza, I gained a new respect for her. I couldn’t see her in the dark, but I could feel the pain in her voice as she talked about her deceased children. I could imagine her eyes remembering… and yet, in spite of all, she never runs out of smiles or high-pitched giggles. She continues on while she tenaciously hangs onto her faith in God.

Profe

Yep, that’s me… I’ve become a “profe.” (pronounced prof-a) It’s what all the students call their teachers here, short for “profesor” or “profesora.” I passed a student from my center the other day, and she said, “Hola profe.” I felt really proud and special.

I’m still working on my diagnostic, as that’s my primary assignment so far, but I’ve also started regularly teaching English classes. Usually, I’ll share class time with the teacher in which I spend the first half of the class teaching concepts like grammar, introductions, the English alphabet, while during the second half, the regular teacher teaches his portion. I’m considering this part of my “internship” work, as I will be planning my own advanced English class for the fall (among other things). I’ve already discovered methods that I can incorporate into my own class. I want to make it dynamic, fun, and I want to do it right. I feel like sometimes the education here leaves something to be desired, so I really want my classes to be memorable, and more importantly, I want my students to learn something.

I have a lot of thinking to do. I will have to be creative. Regular teaching supplies aren’t readily available here, so I’m going to have to scavenge a little. Today I drew pictures on flash cards to represent descriptive adjectives (like happy, sad, fat, thin, etc.)… Well, my pictures look like a 6-year-old drew them, so maybe I’ll keep them for another time.

I find the teaching experience to be quite fulfilling. I can see that my students appreciate the positive feedback and the special attention I give them. They are always smiling, and I especially enjoy the laughs we share together.

And guess what one of my students brought me today? Nope, not an apple. Instead, he gave me a mango! I really am in the DR!