I've been in the DR for 5 months now, and it seems like far longer. I guess that's what happens when you lose entire months, I like just did. Honestly, I have no idea where October went; I must have blinked and missed it.
It's been well over a month since the last time I wrote. A lot has happened - too much to write about in one post. Let's see...there was my first return trip to the States (work) and then the 2nd one in quick succession (again, work), the Marine Ball (fun!), and the cholera outbreak (not so fun), and Thanksgiving with a real Butterball turkey (and the best stuffing EVER)...yep, I've been busy.
I also just had another typical Dominican experience today. My friend Nicki took me to get my first blowout at a beauty salon. It's really just a wash and dry, but here curly hair is considered "pelo malo" and straight hair is "pelo bueno", so the hair salon is weekly maintenance for 99% of the women here. It felt great to have someone wash my hair and massage my scalp, it felt slightly less great to have my scalp seared by a very hot hairdryer as my hair was nearly pulled out of my head with a round brush. I have to admit though, that it looked amazing afterward and I would totally do it again. I still love my curls, though, and the thought of returning to the salon 3x week so that I can have straight hair is simply ridiculous to me. Maybe just every now and again...
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Hangin' at the Carwash, yeah
Recap of a very Dominican week:
1. Esperanza - el musical (based on the lyrics of Juan Luis Guerra) Some friends and I went to see the opening night of this musical at the national theater. Going to the theater here is a big deal. People get dressed up to the nines and all the photogs come out to shoot for the society pages (yep, I've made it in at least once...) Last time we went to see a Dominican musical, well, we laughed the whole time...This time around, MUCH BETTER! The plot was pretty terrible, but SO Dominican - the obsession with getting a visa to the States, the central (daily) role of the Gomero (the tire guy), and the constant beat of bachata and merengue... It's hard to say that it was a good musical, but it was great singing and great entertainment - good enough for me!
2. My new empleada - Maria. I finally managed to get myself an empleada to come clean once a week. She came for the first time yesterday, and boy did she have her work cut out for her. She arrived at 7am, before I left for work, and she was still working away (with the help of her sister) when I came back at1:30. I think Maria and her sister cleaned every single surface of this apartment. They stayed until nearly 4pm! As ecstatic as I am to have my place be spotless, this is going to take some getting used to. They put away everything that was still in boxes from my move - great!, but now I don't know where anything is. And they washed, folded and put away the laundry...into whatever drawers they could find room (again, no clue now where things are...). I also got a lesson on which type of mop to buy so that I get the best shine (apparently I get a C in mop purchasing). I don't really need to see myself in my floor, but now I can. thanks Maria
3. The Carwash Discoteque. Last night I went out with a bunch of friends for dinner, drinks and dancing. Best place to go dancing in Santo Domingo (so far) - the carwash. That's right. The carwash. Carwashes here turn into dance halls at night on the weekends. Logical, right? - big open spaces, lots of dance floor, not stuffy....some even more enterprising carwashes still wash cars when the dance party has started (and they employ buxom, scantily clad women to do the washing). Alas, the carwash we went to last night was dancing only...
There's my Dominican week for you. Next DR experience I'll have to try will be the Dominican blow-out. For now, I'll let you ponder what that might possibly be. :)
1. Esperanza - el musical (based on the lyrics of Juan Luis Guerra) Some friends and I went to see the opening night of this musical at the national theater. Going to the theater here is a big deal. People get dressed up to the nines and all the photogs come out to shoot for the society pages (yep, I've made it in at least once...) Last time we went to see a Dominican musical, well, we laughed the whole time...This time around, MUCH BETTER! The plot was pretty terrible, but SO Dominican - the obsession with getting a visa to the States, the central (daily) role of the Gomero (the tire guy), and the constant beat of bachata and merengue... It's hard to say that it was a good musical, but it was great singing and great entertainment - good enough for me!
2. My new empleada - Maria. I finally managed to get myself an empleada to come clean once a week. She came for the first time yesterday, and boy did she have her work cut out for her. She arrived at 7am, before I left for work, and she was still working away (with the help of her sister) when I came back at1:30. I think Maria and her sister cleaned every single surface of this apartment. They stayed until nearly 4pm! As ecstatic as I am to have my place be spotless, this is going to take some getting used to. They put away everything that was still in boxes from my move - great!, but now I don't know where anything is. And they washed, folded and put away the laundry...into whatever drawers they could find room (again, no clue now where things are...). I also got a lesson on which type of mop to buy so that I get the best shine (apparently I get a C in mop purchasing). I don't really need to see myself in my floor, but now I can. thanks Maria
3. The Carwash Discoteque. Last night I went out with a bunch of friends for dinner, drinks and dancing. Best place to go dancing in Santo Domingo (so far) - the carwash. That's right. The carwash. Carwashes here turn into dance halls at night on the weekends. Logical, right? - big open spaces, lots of dance floor, not stuffy....some even more enterprising carwashes still wash cars when the dance party has started (and they employ buxom, scantily clad women to do the washing). Alas, the carwash we went to last night was dancing only...
There's my Dominican week for you. Next DR experience I'll have to try will be the Dominican blow-out. For now, I'll let you ponder what that might possibly be. :)
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Border Trip
Two weeks ago I had the opportunity to take a work trip out to the border region. The purpose was simply to learn more about the geography of the region and the many challenges it faces economically and politically. It was a grueling 3 days of meetings, new information, tours, welcome meals, and bone-jarring drives down back country "roads". I can't wait to go back!
Our team was inter-agency, so we all brought different perspectives, priorities and understandings of what we saw and heard during the trip. Hopefully we will be able to build on this successful excursion and continue to work together and learn from each other.
In the border town of Jimani, I learned about immigration issues and the effort to stop the crossing of contraband into the country (drugs, weapons, etc. etc). The customs house is a small building in a constant din of nearly chaos. Outside, merchants sell whatever, travelers wait for their documents to be checked, and military from all different agencies mill around with shot guns. The actual border looks something like a big iron gate that stretches across the causeway (which is being washed out from flooding, but that's another story). On international market days, Haitians line up with their faces and bodies pressed against the gate, like cattle waiting to be let into the food lot. Market days mean an extra 3-4,000 people milling around the customs house area, trying to make a buck however they can.
While in Jimani, a colleague and I went to the site of the field hospital they used in the aftermath of the earthquake. It was impressive to see as it was empty, even more impressive to imagine the hundreds of doctors, thousands of patients, helicopters taking off, etc. The new caretaker of the facility, a man from Tennessee, told us that he also worked with a few of the charcoal (carbon) bateys located along the border. He was kind enough to escort us over to one of them, located in a narrow strip of Haitian territory that was surrounded by the DR and the shores of Lake Saumatre. There we met with Pastor Jean, a Haitian pastor who would travel weekly to this lonely strip of land by boat, from his side of the lake in Fond Parisien. Life in these bateys was stark - little vegetation, no sewage, houses made of sticks and mud, and little children running around buck naked and barefoot with the pigs and goats. The main source of income for these people is the charcoal trade. This means they venture up into the mountainsides of the DR to cut down trees and make charcoal. They sell this charcoal across the lake in Haiti as a household fuel source. The mountains all along the border are littered with smoking fires from this practice.
Moving on from Jimani, in the nearby town of La Descubierta, we met with an older American couple who run a medical clinic for the region (they also do the same in Kenya and divide their time between the two countries). Their clinic is small, but they are always taking on volunteer medical teams to come and help out. The main medical issues they deal with are hypertension, diabetes, and cervical cancer (there is a very high rate of HPV in the DR). There is a lack of education on how to manage diabetes, so as with many other parts of the world, the incidence of the disease is increasing and people don't know what to do with themselves to stay healthy with it. Also, post earthquake, the couple has seen an influx of Haitians moving in on the outskirts of the town. As this new population begins to use the medical services, the doctors are finding out that the children are not vaccinated for most things, including polio. They need to do a vaccination campaign before it turns into a health problem, or these people move on to another place.
On our way to another province, our little group stopped at Lake Enriquillo to check out the iguanas. They have two types that live in the park area, and the animals are so accustomed to people feeding them that they run around without fear, totally ignoring us (except when they ran at us looking for food). (They also have crocodiles in the lake, which, luckily for us, are not so eager to be around people.) The lake is an interesting place environmentally. It's a salt lake, though its salinity has dropped from 90% to 60% in the last 3 years. The lakes on both sides of the border have been rising steadily over the past 3 years, causing serious flooding issues for the region. Though the cause is not known for sure, the experts seem to think it's due to seismic or geological activity that is increasing the amount of water that enters and stays in the lake from underground sources (which would explain the decrease in salinity).
One of the more interesting parts of our trip for me was when we went to the border area called Macasia to see a development project being developed by the military. The general in charge of the project, an agronomist, is designed a self-sustaining, eco-friendly rural agricultural settlement for military families along the border. His inspiration is somewhat kibbutz, somewhat Israeli settlement, but his goal is to develop more of a permanent physical presence of Dominicans along the border - but to do it in a way that is environmentally and economically sustainable. Only the pilot settlement is anywhere near completion, but the plan is to have 18 such settlements along the border with Haiti. The community has a greenhouse and a nursery for fruit-bearing trees (a source of food and income plus a way to reforest the border area), a rabbit farm and a tilapia farm. There is a free medical clinic on site, available for use by the Haitians who live across the border (which in this area is just a river). And the general has recently acquired 2 school buses to help the kids in the area get to school. Right now the closest school only goes to 4th grade, and the children typically have to walk 10-20 km to get to class. The general's community includes plans to build a new school that is closer for the children and will go up to 8th grade.
I could go on and on about this project and about the other meetings we had and things we saw, but this has already been a long post. As you can imagine, there is a lot going on here..and I'm only talking about one little section of the country.
Our team was inter-agency, so we all brought different perspectives, priorities and understandings of what we saw and heard during the trip. Hopefully we will be able to build on this successful excursion and continue to work together and learn from each other.
In the border town of Jimani, I learned about immigration issues and the effort to stop the crossing of contraband into the country (drugs, weapons, etc. etc). The customs house is a small building in a constant din of nearly chaos. Outside, merchants sell whatever, travelers wait for their documents to be checked, and military from all different agencies mill around with shot guns. The actual border looks something like a big iron gate that stretches across the causeway (which is being washed out from flooding, but that's another story). On international market days, Haitians line up with their faces and bodies pressed against the gate, like cattle waiting to be let into the food lot. Market days mean an extra 3-4,000 people milling around the customs house area, trying to make a buck however they can.
 |
| the children of batey #41 |
 |
| bags of carbón wait to be taken across the lake to mainland Haiti for sale |
While in Jimani, a colleague and I went to the site of the field hospital they used in the aftermath of the earthquake. It was impressive to see as it was empty, even more impressive to imagine the hundreds of doctors, thousands of patients, helicopters taking off, etc. The new caretaker of the facility, a man from Tennessee, told us that he also worked with a few of the charcoal (carbon) bateys located along the border. He was kind enough to escort us over to one of them, located in a narrow strip of Haitian territory that was surrounded by the DR and the shores of Lake Saumatre. There we met with Pastor Jean, a Haitian pastor who would travel weekly to this lonely strip of land by boat, from his side of the lake in Fond Parisien. Life in these bateys was stark - little vegetation, no sewage, houses made of sticks and mud, and little children running around buck naked and barefoot with the pigs and goats. The main source of income for these people is the charcoal trade. This means they venture up into the mountainsides of the DR to cut down trees and make charcoal. They sell this charcoal across the lake in Haiti as a household fuel source. The mountains all along the border are littered with smoking fires from this practice.
Moving on from Jimani, in the nearby town of La Descubierta, we met with an older American couple who run a medical clinic for the region (they also do the same in Kenya and divide their time between the two countries). Their clinic is small, but they are always taking on volunteer medical teams to come and help out. The main medical issues they deal with are hypertension, diabetes, and cervical cancer (there is a very high rate of HPV in the DR). There is a lack of education on how to manage diabetes, so as with many other parts of the world, the incidence of the disease is increasing and people don't know what to do with themselves to stay healthy with it. Also, post earthquake, the couple has seen an influx of Haitians moving in on the outskirts of the town. As this new population begins to use the medical services, the doctors are finding out that the children are not vaccinated for most things, including polio. They need to do a vaccination campaign before it turns into a health problem, or these people move on to another place.
 |
| the border region of DR and Haiti. smoke on the mountains are charcoal fires |
One of the more interesting parts of our trip for me was when we went to the border area called Macasia to see a development project being developed by the military. The general in charge of the project, an agronomist, is designed a self-sustaining, eco-friendly rural agricultural settlement for military families along the border. His inspiration is somewhat kibbutz, somewhat Israeli settlement, but his goal is to develop more of a permanent physical presence of Dominicans along the border - but to do it in a way that is environmentally and economically sustainable. Only the pilot settlement is anywhere near completion, but the plan is to have 18 such settlements along the border with Haiti. The community has a greenhouse and a nursery for fruit-bearing trees (a source of food and income plus a way to reforest the border area), a rabbit farm and a tilapia farm. There is a free medical clinic on site, available for use by the Haitians who live across the border (which in this area is just a river). And the general has recently acquired 2 school buses to help the kids in the area get to school. Right now the closest school only goes to 4th grade, and the children typically have to walk 10-20 km to get to class. The general's community includes plans to build a new school that is closer for the children and will go up to 8th grade.
I could go on and on about this project and about the other meetings we had and things we saw, but this has already been a long post. As you can imagine, there is a lot going on here..and I'm only talking about one little section of the country.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Seabather's Eruption
Sounds pretty nasty, right? Well, it is - I've managed to find out first hand.
This is the part of the Cabarete story that I didn't tell before...now it warrants its own post. Our last night in Cabarete, I thought it would be fun to go for a night swim. I was right, it was lots of fun...except for the bites/stings that we kept feeling every now and again. Whatever was biting/stinging us, it was only millimeters big, and in the black of the water, we definitely couldn't see anything. I thought the were bug bites, and though annoying for sure, waved them off as a nuisance, no more.
The next day, though, as we drove back from Cabarete, I noticed that a rash was starting to form on my shoulders and a little on my forehead. It didn't itch at first, and I wondered what had managed to irritate my sensitive skin. By Monday evening, the rash was worse - red and slowly creeping down my back. Luckily, one of my guests is a nurse, and she suggested benadryl and some topical hydro-cortisone cream. I promptedly headed to the nearest pharmacy to stock up. Fast forward through a week of regularly smothering myself in hydro-cortisone and calamine lotion, it is now 7 days later and the rash is far worse. My back now looks like I slept in a patch of poison ivy (and it feels like it too), my face is swollen and red, and I have pinkeye (apparently, also a symptom of this allergic reaction). The itch and the pain and the swelling have put me to bed today, feeling rather ill, and seriously considering a trip to the emergency clinic for a dose of whatever they can give me to make it go away. what luck I have, right?
So, now that you have a rather ugly, vivid picture of a "seabather's eruption", you are probably wondering what it actually is that I managed to get messed up with. Well, let me tell you. Seabather's eruption is a highly pruritic (itchy) reaction to the stings of baby thimble jellyfish. Apparently, I have a hypersensitive reaction to thimble jellyfish toxins. The babies have nematocysts that fire (sting) at the slightest provocation - like a change in osmotic pressure (like letting the sea water dry on your skin, or rinsing off with freshwater), and even after the little bastard babies are dead, if their nematocysts are still on your skin, you can cause them to sting you posthumously - like by rubbing yourself dry with a towel. I was probably stung by an entire swarm of the little buggers, repeatedly, and I never even registered it at the time. So now, apparently I have to let this run it's course for at least 10-12 days...and pray to Neptune that this never happens again.
SO, there you have it. To make a long story short - Liz got attacked by baby jellyfish last weekend and now she looks and feels like _______. I'll just have to add "seabather's eruption" to the growing list of random things that have happened to me over the years. You'll have to admit, you are not the least bit surprised by this story, are you?
This is the part of the Cabarete story that I didn't tell before...now it warrants its own post. Our last night in Cabarete, I thought it would be fun to go for a night swim. I was right, it was lots of fun...except for the bites/stings that we kept feeling every now and again. Whatever was biting/stinging us, it was only millimeters big, and in the black of the water, we definitely couldn't see anything. I thought the were bug bites, and though annoying for sure, waved them off as a nuisance, no more.
The next day, though, as we drove back from Cabarete, I noticed that a rash was starting to form on my shoulders and a little on my forehead. It didn't itch at first, and I wondered what had managed to irritate my sensitive skin. By Monday evening, the rash was worse - red and slowly creeping down my back. Luckily, one of my guests is a nurse, and she suggested benadryl and some topical hydro-cortisone cream. I promptedly headed to the nearest pharmacy to stock up. Fast forward through a week of regularly smothering myself in hydro-cortisone and calamine lotion, it is now 7 days later and the rash is far worse. My back now looks like I slept in a patch of poison ivy (and it feels like it too), my face is swollen and red, and I have pinkeye (apparently, also a symptom of this allergic reaction). The itch and the pain and the swelling have put me to bed today, feeling rather ill, and seriously considering a trip to the emergency clinic for a dose of whatever they can give me to make it go away. what luck I have, right?
So, now that you have a rather ugly, vivid picture of a "seabather's eruption", you are probably wondering what it actually is that I managed to get messed up with. Well, let me tell you. Seabather's eruption is a highly pruritic (itchy) reaction to the stings of baby thimble jellyfish. Apparently, I have a hypersensitive reaction to thimble jellyfish toxins. The babies have nematocysts that fire (sting) at the slightest provocation - like a change in osmotic pressure (like letting the sea water dry on your skin, or rinsing off with freshwater), and even after the little bastard babies are dead, if their nematocysts are still on your skin, you can cause them to sting you posthumously - like by rubbing yourself dry with a towel. I was probably stung by an entire swarm of the little buggers, repeatedly, and I never even registered it at the time. So now, apparently I have to let this run it's course for at least 10-12 days...and pray to Neptune that this never happens again.
SO, there you have it. To make a long story short - Liz got attacked by baby jellyfish last weekend and now she looks and feels like _______. I'll just have to add "seabather's eruption" to the growing list of random things that have happened to me over the years. You'll have to admit, you are not the least bit surprised by this story, are you?
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
My first visitors!
...and other things that made me happy in the last week....
As if expecting my first visitors weren't exciting enough, last week I also received my HHE (household effects) shipment - nearly 2 months to the day after I packed up and left DC. I finally have my stuff, and it's AMAZING how good that makes me feel. It's not that I was missing individual things, per say (with the exception of my art supplies and my mattress), but it's the oddly comforting familiarity that I am so excited to have back. Now I have even more white walls to hang pictures on and consider painting - let the interior decorating begin!
The day after my place was re-populated by huge brown moving boxes, I went to the airport to get my first guests. My friend Leah (from grad school) and two of her friends were coming for the week, with only one thing on their mind - the BEACH! I hadn't been in a whopping 2 weeks either, so it was on my mind as well. We headed to the little town of Cabarete on the North coast, famous for its kite and wind surfing (and, ahem, its kite and wind surfers). Cabarete is totally different from Las Terrenas, and while I wouldn't say it reaches the same level of paradise, I loved it all the same. The vibe is young and laid-back, rasta and hippie and FUN...and we were sure to soak up as much of that as we could. All the restaurants and the bars open up onto the beach, which is where everyone hangs out from dusk until nearly dawn. They even had an international music festival the Saturday night we were there (it was pretty much all reggae, but on the beach...who needs more?)
I checked out the kite schools while we roamed the beach, since learning to kite and wind surf are on my DR bucket list, but it looked like too much of an investment for this trip. You need to go through a course to really learn, and it can cost a few hundred bucks. Looks like I'll just have to go back some other weekend, with that as the only item on my agenda. Even if I didn't get to go kite surfing, it was enough for me to be lazy on the beach for 3 days. Being with friends who are here visiting made it so much more like a vacation (very much welcomed) than when my DR friends and I go. funny how that works...
Now my friends have gone - back to their lives and work and the US - and I am back at work, with a very busy-looking fall ahead of me. There's lots to look forward to, though, so I hope it doesn't all come too quickly. and now I also wonder, who is going to be the next to come to Chez Liz?
As if expecting my first visitors weren't exciting enough, last week I also received my HHE (household effects) shipment - nearly 2 months to the day after I packed up and left DC. I finally have my stuff, and it's AMAZING how good that makes me feel. It's not that I was missing individual things, per say (with the exception of my art supplies and my mattress), but it's the oddly comforting familiarity that I am so excited to have back. Now I have even more white walls to hang pictures on and consider painting - let the interior decorating begin!
The day after my place was re-populated by huge brown moving boxes, I went to the airport to get my first guests. My friend Leah (from grad school) and two of her friends were coming for the week, with only one thing on their mind - the BEACH! I hadn't been in a whopping 2 weeks either, so it was on my mind as well. We headed to the little town of Cabarete on the North coast, famous for its kite and wind surfing (and, ahem, its kite and wind surfers). Cabarete is totally different from Las Terrenas, and while I wouldn't say it reaches the same level of paradise, I loved it all the same. The vibe is young and laid-back, rasta and hippie and FUN...and we were sure to soak up as much of that as we could. All the restaurants and the bars open up onto the beach, which is where everyone hangs out from dusk until nearly dawn. They even had an international music festival the Saturday night we were there (it was pretty much all reggae, but on the beach...who needs more?)
I checked out the kite schools while we roamed the beach, since learning to kite and wind surf are on my DR bucket list, but it looked like too much of an investment for this trip. You need to go through a course to really learn, and it can cost a few hundred bucks. Looks like I'll just have to go back some other weekend, with that as the only item on my agenda. Even if I didn't get to go kite surfing, it was enough for me to be lazy on the beach for 3 days. Being with friends who are here visiting made it so much more like a vacation (very much welcomed) than when my DR friends and I go. funny how that works...
Now my friends have gone - back to their lives and work and the US - and I am back at work, with a very busy-looking fall ahead of me. There's lots to look forward to, though, so I hope it doesn't all come too quickly. and now I also wonder, who is going to be the next to come to Chez Liz?
Monday, August 23, 2010
Big events from the weekend
1. I stayed in Santo Domingo (yay! first time in a month I stayed put)
2. I bought new tires for my diva of a jeepeta (yay! and ouch!) and found out that the list of work that needs to be done to make my diva safe to drive is ever-growing. ugh.
3. Friends Nicki and Patrick turned 26 and 28 respectively. congrats, guys! (a moment to fondly remember the stupid things I did at those ages...., which I might have repeated this weekend in their honor). I made them a Canadian flag ice cream cake. yum!
4. I had brunch! (how little you realize this is actually a big event)
5. I got certified as an open water diver - passed the final exam with a 94%
and, perhaps coolest of all, my little Broski, JT, climbed Mt. Fuji!!! - ok, so that has absolutely nothing to do with me, but I am completely jealous that he has such a cool accomplishment crossed off his bucket list, and at only 26 years old! what an overachiever. I'll have to go climb a mountain now to catch up...and will definitely hope that he includes me in any plans to climb the next one. J, what do you say we do Mt. Kilimanjaro together? - maybe in 2013? or you could come here and do Pico Duarte with me. That's the highest peak in the Caribbean (probably not so great as Fuji....)
JT has some video of his adventures, if you'd care to watch...by now maybe you've guessed that this kinda stuff runs in the family.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C01IdCPvD2M
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26sjoxza-HQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4qSy47NDWY
Last off, Leah and friends arrive in a little over a week. yay! my first guests to the island!
2. I bought new tires for my diva of a jeepeta (yay! and ouch!) and found out that the list of work that needs to be done to make my diva safe to drive is ever-growing. ugh.
3. Friends Nicki and Patrick turned 26 and 28 respectively. congrats, guys! (a moment to fondly remember the stupid things I did at those ages...., which I might have repeated this weekend in their honor). I made them a Canadian flag ice cream cake. yum!
4. I had brunch! (how little you realize this is actually a big event)
5. I got certified as an open water diver - passed the final exam with a 94%
and, perhaps coolest of all, my little Broski, JT, climbed Mt. Fuji!!! - ok, so that has absolutely nothing to do with me, but I am completely jealous that he has such a cool accomplishment crossed off his bucket list, and at only 26 years old! what an overachiever. I'll have to go climb a mountain now to catch up...and will definitely hope that he includes me in any plans to climb the next one. J, what do you say we do Mt. Kilimanjaro together? - maybe in 2013? or you could come here and do Pico Duarte with me. That's the highest peak in the Caribbean (probably not so great as Fuji....)
JT has some video of his adventures, if you'd care to watch...by now maybe you've guessed that this kinda stuff runs in the family.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C01IdCPvD2M
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26sjoxza-HQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4qSy47NDWY
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| that's my brother! |
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
My country 'tis of thee...
sweet land of bigotry? of thee I ...cringe?
Those of you who know me well and have read this blog might have realized how little I discuss work, or at least, the vagueness of my references to it. I do that to maintain the separation of my professional duties and representation and my personal opinion. Today I'm going to blur the lines just a bit, because, man, I have got to vent.
First of all, WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON UP THERE?!! I leave the country and you (collectively, and probably not the people who read this) go apesh*t conservative and close-minded on me. Seriously. WTF? When I left, there was Arizona, tea partiers and Sarah Palin (and Fox News, but I won't go there). Now, there's this 14th Amendment BS AND the Park51 madness. I'm ashamed of you (again, the collective, and here I'm going directly for anyone who has the nerve to protect their own religious freedom and no one elses.).
I did not join choose to go on my current career path 8 years ago because as much as I loved my country, I did not want to be associated its government. Now that I am, I'm finding it a bit harder to represent its people. That makes me incredibly sad. And it makes my job a bit more challenging, thank you very much. Among many other things, I am supposed to be helping hundreds of thousands of people who have been denied citizenship and respect for their basic human rights due to the color of their skin (their religion and their culture)...and what argument can I possibly make to influence the government or the people of this country from where I stand as an American? How do I promote tolerance, liberty, respect for diversity and human rights when the country I represent has fallen so far from its own ideals? I sound like a hypocrite. I hate hypocrites. So, I guess I'm asking y'all to do me a favor...can you please, for the love of all that is decent in this world, get your heads out of your arses and start acting like the country that we claim to be? Thank you.
Peter Beinart's Daily Beast Blog (a great read, and partly responsible for getting me riled up and on my soap box this morning):
http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2010-08-17/ground-zero-mosque-controversy-america-has-disgraced-itself/
Those of you who know me well and have read this blog might have realized how little I discuss work, or at least, the vagueness of my references to it. I do that to maintain the separation of my professional duties and representation and my personal opinion. Today I'm going to blur the lines just a bit, because, man, I have got to vent.
First of all, WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON UP THERE?!! I leave the country and you (collectively, and probably not the people who read this) go apesh*t conservative and close-minded on me. Seriously. WTF? When I left, there was Arizona, tea partiers and Sarah Palin (and Fox News, but I won't go there). Now, there's this 14th Amendment BS AND the Park51 madness. I'm ashamed of you (again, the collective, and here I'm going directly for anyone who has the nerve to protect their own religious freedom and no one elses.).
I did not join choose to go on my current career path 8 years ago because as much as I loved my country, I did not want to be associated its government. Now that I am, I'm finding it a bit harder to represent its people. That makes me incredibly sad. And it makes my job a bit more challenging, thank you very much. Among many other things, I am supposed to be helping hundreds of thousands of people who have been denied citizenship and respect for their basic human rights due to the color of their skin (their religion and their culture)...and what argument can I possibly make to influence the government or the people of this country from where I stand as an American? How do I promote tolerance, liberty, respect for diversity and human rights when the country I represent has fallen so far from its own ideals? I sound like a hypocrite. I hate hypocrites. So, I guess I'm asking y'all to do me a favor...can you please, for the love of all that is decent in this world, get your heads out of your arses and start acting like the country that we claim to be? Thank you.
Peter Beinart's Daily Beast Blog (a great read, and partly responsible for getting me riled up and on my soap box this morning):
http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2010-08-17/ground-zero-mosque-controversy-america-has-disgraced-itself/
La Romana - Bayahibe
This past weekend was a 3-day holiday weekend for us here in the DR, since today (8/16) the country celebrated their Restoration Day ( something like a "We want to be independent from Spain now day). My friends and I took this opportunity to spend a(nother) weekend at the beach, getting our scuba course finished up. Nicki, Robert and I spent the greater part of the weekend on or under water in the south east part of the country - La Romana-Bayahibe. Since it was a holiday weekend (and Alejandro Sanz was playing a concert nearby), we had a heck of a time finding a hotel, and ended up staying at some little budget place on a road to the pueblo's playa....in what seemed like the middle of a sugar cane field. The hotel was clean, though, and fairly quite, and at $26/night...well, you can't really complain.
We did 3 dives off the coast of Bayahibe, which is full of coral reefs and recreated shipwrecks. Each dive of ours was for approximately 40mins at a depth of 40ft (average over the 3 dives). The visibility this weekend was AMAZING (see the photo - which is taken from the internet, but exactly what my weekend looked like). I'm obsessed with the color of the water here. It goes from looking bright turquoise from the surface to being the most stunning cerulean when you are below. There were bits of sea plants floating around, with tiny, nearly invisible jellyfish appearing out of nowhere (these ones don't sting). It reminded of a scene from Avatar - so beautiful! I found huge conch shells (left them) and the biggest sand dollar I have ever seen (took it, since it was already dead). Now that all we need to do is the final exam, I am ready to move on to the next step - getting enough experience for night diving, shipwrecks and maybe caverns as well.
One nice this about this island is that in our circles, most people tend to know each other. Our scuba guy, Mark, sent us to a guy he taught years ago, who now has a dive shop in Bayahibe. Turns out the guy, John, was at La Isabela with me last month, and knows the IU people whom I wrote about. In fact, some of the cannons and the anchor that we dove around this weekend were discovered then placed there by the IU crew. John was kind enough to offer to give us discounts any time we come back to Bayahibe. I'm sure we'll be taking him up on that offer.
La Romana-Bayahibe was such a different vibe from Samana in so many ways. For one, It is much more of an obvious vacation spot. When we were on the dive boats, I could hear the activities director from the resort calling out things to do on the loudspeaker (flashback to Dirty Dancing, anyone?) The little town of Bayahibe feeds off of the tour buses that shuttle the foreigners from their resort to the dive center and the marina-front restaurants (owned by foreigners) and souvenir shacks. Another difference - there isn't all that much public beach. The all-inclusive hotels and other exclusive resort/living compounds that have taken over the coast do not let the non-paying public onto their beaches - even though technically, the beaches are all public land and cannot be owned. The hotels pay security guards to patrol the perimeter and keep people out. It can be rather frustrating to see the color barrier that exists between the nice, clean white-sand beaches with their foreign tourists, and the small, garbage-strewn public beaches, full of Dominicans. Every time a little kid's ball crossed the line from public to "private", we saw the guards spring into action. We end up being torn between the principle of the matter, and wanting a reasonably clean and nice place to hang out. Today we split the difference - scuba diving with the tourists, then hanging out on the public beach.
It was a nice weekend, full of good food and good people. And, lucky me, now I get a short work week!
We did 3 dives off the coast of Bayahibe, which is full of coral reefs and recreated shipwrecks. Each dive of ours was for approximately 40mins at a depth of 40ft (average over the 3 dives). The visibility this weekend was AMAZING (see the photo - which is taken from the internet, but exactly what my weekend looked like). I'm obsessed with the color of the water here. It goes from looking bright turquoise from the surface to being the most stunning cerulean when you are below. There were bits of sea plants floating around, with tiny, nearly invisible jellyfish appearing out of nowhere (these ones don't sting). It reminded of a scene from Avatar - so beautiful! I found huge conch shells (left them) and the biggest sand dollar I have ever seen (took it, since it was already dead). Now that all we need to do is the final exam, I am ready to move on to the next step - getting enough experience for night diving, shipwrecks and maybe caverns as well.
One nice this about this island is that in our circles, most people tend to know each other. Our scuba guy, Mark, sent us to a guy he taught years ago, who now has a dive shop in Bayahibe. Turns out the guy, John, was at La Isabela with me last month, and knows the IU people whom I wrote about. In fact, some of the cannons and the anchor that we dove around this weekend were discovered then placed there by the IU crew. John was kind enough to offer to give us discounts any time we come back to Bayahibe. I'm sure we'll be taking him up on that offer.
La Romana-Bayahibe was such a different vibe from Samana in so many ways. For one, It is much more of an obvious vacation spot. When we were on the dive boats, I could hear the activities director from the resort calling out things to do on the loudspeaker (flashback to Dirty Dancing, anyone?) The little town of Bayahibe feeds off of the tour buses that shuttle the foreigners from their resort to the dive center and the marina-front restaurants (owned by foreigners) and souvenir shacks. Another difference - there isn't all that much public beach. The all-inclusive hotels and other exclusive resort/living compounds that have taken over the coast do not let the non-paying public onto their beaches - even though technically, the beaches are all public land and cannot be owned. The hotels pay security guards to patrol the perimeter and keep people out. It can be rather frustrating to see the color barrier that exists between the nice, clean white-sand beaches with their foreign tourists, and the small, garbage-strewn public beaches, full of Dominicans. Every time a little kid's ball crossed the line from public to "private", we saw the guards spring into action. We end up being torn between the principle of the matter, and wanting a reasonably clean and nice place to hang out. Today we split the difference - scuba diving with the tourists, then hanging out on the public beach.
It was a nice weekend, full of good food and good people. And, lucky me, now I get a short work week!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
A post on Community
...where Liz shows her vulnerability (this won't last very long)
Those of you who have known me for a long time have pretty much always known me to be the wanderer...the independent spirit...the whatever else you want to add. As a little kid, I was apparently the reason that my parents had to put locks on the doors and a fence around the backyard - because at the blink of an eye they'd have to ask, "Where's Bethie?" (there she goes, crawling through the hedges into the neighbor's yard...) When everyone else talked about going off to college at high school graduation, I talked about moving to Argentina for a year. I spent as much of my college years abroad as I did at Lehigh...enough for my roommates, in their so very PC way, to call me a FOB (I choose to embrace that moniker, ladies, thank you :)... So I guess it came as no surprise to anyone, least of all myself, that I chose to live a life of an expatriot (side bar - why do they call them expatriots anyway? because in my experience, those of us who live abroad and see our country from the inside and the outside, end up being even more patriotic - in the true sense of the word - than those who stay within the borders)
What did come as a surprise to me, after my 6 or so weeks here, settling into my new life, is how hard it has actually been for me. I've had a few pensive, up-and-down moments (this is me talking, so keep it in perspective), and I've been trying to figure out what is so different this time around. Adjusting as far as life here goes, has been a piece of cake. It's not the work and it's not the DR. I've realized that it's what I've left behind. All the other times that I took off for one of my adventures, I left like I wasn't leaving anything behind. I mean, sure, I was leaving family and friends, but...well, I knew they would always be there for me to come back to (and they still are, and I love them dearly for that). The independent and self-sufficient me is fine with that. I realized, though, that whenever I left before, I always left feeling like I was the odd-ball/outsider anyway...like "we" all knew I was going to go off and do "my thing"...and that wherever I was going, perhaps I would find "my kind" there. I found "my kind" a bit more in Peace Corps, and a lot more in grad school...then came DC.
In DC I found a community again. To be more exact, I found several communities to be a part of. There was my yoga studio and my meditation group, my soccer teams, my old friends, SIPA friends, and new friends as well. They all blended together and overlapped to form a comfortable support system, that I never realized how much I needed...until I left it all behind. In DC I knew who to go to for what - who to talk to about a problem, who to go have crazy fun with, who to be contemplative with, who gave the best hugs (which I am in serious want of right now)...I know these people still exist, and that network is still there for me...but it's not the same from thousands of miles away. So, as I slowly go about creating a new community for myself here....I guess I just want to say I love you and I miss you, my DC community. Take care of yourselves...and keep in touch
---end of sappy, vulnerable post :-) ---
Those of you who have known me for a long time have pretty much always known me to be the wanderer...the independent spirit...the whatever else you want to add. As a little kid, I was apparently the reason that my parents had to put locks on the doors and a fence around the backyard - because at the blink of an eye they'd have to ask, "Where's Bethie?" (there she goes, crawling through the hedges into the neighbor's yard...) When everyone else talked about going off to college at high school graduation, I talked about moving to Argentina for a year. I spent as much of my college years abroad as I did at Lehigh...enough for my roommates, in their so very PC way, to call me a FOB (I choose to embrace that moniker, ladies, thank you :)... So I guess it came as no surprise to anyone, least of all myself, that I chose to live a life of an expatriot (side bar - why do they call them expatriots anyway? because in my experience, those of us who live abroad and see our country from the inside and the outside, end up being even more patriotic - in the true sense of the word - than those who stay within the borders)
What did come as a surprise to me, after my 6 or so weeks here, settling into my new life, is how hard it has actually been for me. I've had a few pensive, up-and-down moments (this is me talking, so keep it in perspective), and I've been trying to figure out what is so different this time around. Adjusting as far as life here goes, has been a piece of cake. It's not the work and it's not the DR. I've realized that it's what I've left behind. All the other times that I took off for one of my adventures, I left like I wasn't leaving anything behind. I mean, sure, I was leaving family and friends, but...well, I knew they would always be there for me to come back to (and they still are, and I love them dearly for that). The independent and self-sufficient me is fine with that. I realized, though, that whenever I left before, I always left feeling like I was the odd-ball/outsider anyway...like "we" all knew I was going to go off and do "my thing"...and that wherever I was going, perhaps I would find "my kind" there. I found "my kind" a bit more in Peace Corps, and a lot more in grad school...then came DC.
In DC I found a community again. To be more exact, I found several communities to be a part of. There was my yoga studio and my meditation group, my soccer teams, my old friends, SIPA friends, and new friends as well. They all blended together and overlapped to form a comfortable support system, that I never realized how much I needed...until I left it all behind. In DC I knew who to go to for what - who to talk to about a problem, who to go have crazy fun with, who to be contemplative with, who gave the best hugs (which I am in serious want of right now)...I know these people still exist, and that network is still there for me...but it's not the same from thousands of miles away. So, as I slowly go about creating a new community for myself here....I guess I just want to say I love you and I miss you, my DC community. Take care of yourselves...and keep in touch
---end of sappy, vulnerable post :-) ---
Sunday, August 8, 2010
I'm on a boat...
Ok, so I didn't quite get to live out some music video this weekend...but things have a way of working out for the best. The plan was, (through a friend of a friend of a friend) to go spend the day at Casa de Campo (playground of the uber rich and famous, like Jay Z), hanging out on some guy's yacht. But a message Friday night that started with "Dude, boat dude is being sketchy..." changed the plans just a bit. Plan B - head out in that direction anyway, call through the list of other contacts who have boats, and hitch a ride to another island for the day.
Mission accomplished. By the time we got to the port at La Romana, we found a guy who would take us to la Isla Catalina. He met us at the docks 15 minutes after we called, and became our water taxi for the day. (Ok, the boat was more like a dinghy with an outboard motor...but it was fun and cheap.) Catalina island is gorgeous! Soft white sand, no houses (no fresh water, actually), beautiful cerulean waters and not that many people. There's also great diving there (but we saved that for another time).
Today, my scuba group had its first open water ocean dive. It was so awesome!! I can't wait to do it again! We went out to about a depth of 9.5m (approx. 30ft), and swum around in the corral reef for 40minutes. I saw tons of colorful fish, including a lion fish and a barracuda. We'll be doing the rest of our certification dives next weekend, and then we graduate. yay!
After our dive, we had lunch at a place called the Boat House, next to the dive center on the beach. The place has the best BBQ in the DR (so they say, and we think they may be right). It's run by this guy who is originally from Atlanta, GA. So we had authentic southern BBQ (ribs and chicken), corn on the cob, and cold presidentes - yum! Go hungry, leave happy...
So, yet another nice weekend down here. I'm racking up the DR experiences left and right, but I'm ready to start slowing down now (just a little...). One of these weekends I should consider sleep as my primary activity...it's just hard to stay inside, when there is so much going on around you - and in such beautiful weather too!
Mission accomplished. By the time we got to the port at La Romana, we found a guy who would take us to la Isla Catalina. He met us at the docks 15 minutes after we called, and became our water taxi for the day. (Ok, the boat was more like a dinghy with an outboard motor...but it was fun and cheap.) Catalina island is gorgeous! Soft white sand, no houses (no fresh water, actually), beautiful cerulean waters and not that many people. There's also great diving there (but we saved that for another time).
Today, my scuba group had its first open water ocean dive. It was so awesome!! I can't wait to do it again! We went out to about a depth of 9.5m (approx. 30ft), and swum around in the corral reef for 40minutes. I saw tons of colorful fish, including a lion fish and a barracuda. We'll be doing the rest of our certification dives next weekend, and then we graduate. yay!
After our dive, we had lunch at a place called the Boat House, next to the dive center on the beach. The place has the best BBQ in the DR (so they say, and we think they may be right). It's run by this guy who is originally from Atlanta, GA. So we had authentic southern BBQ (ribs and chicken), corn on the cob, and cold presidentes - yum! Go hungry, leave happy...
So, yet another nice weekend down here. I'm racking up the DR experiences left and right, but I'm ready to start slowing down now (just a little...). One of these weekends I should consider sleep as my primary activity...it's just hard to stay inside, when there is so much going on around you - and in such beautiful weather too!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The yoga changes, but the Namaste stays the same...
From the moment I got to the top floor of Colegio Bebecue (think BBQ) this evening, I could feel my heart lift. People were starting to arrive, taking off their flip flops at the door, and getting ready to unroll their mats. As the regulars shared hugs and hellos with each other, a tall, lanky tanned man came over to greet me - a kiss and a hug and a warm "welcome to class."
I settled down onto my mat and took it all in. This was exactly what I needed, and precisely what I had been so desperately missing in the past 5 weeks. Eyes closed and in a supine twist, the last thing I noticed before I started to zone out was that the open air room surrounded by trees, in combination with soft background music of birds chirping, made me feel like I was in some tropical tree house. And then I let it all go, closed my eyes, and followed directions given in a soft-spoken Spanish.
The yoga itself was, shall we say, a bit unorthodox - at least compared to my previous experiences - but that didn't matter. I won't be going for the sake of perfecting my handstand. I was content enough to be in a yoga community again, blissing out in meditative movement for 90 minutes. And for less than $10, I've paid for a month unlimited (it's only 2x/wk...but who cares)...
So, gracias Sr. Victor, for reminding me to respirar - lento y profundo - and NAMASTE.
I settled down onto my mat and took it all in. This was exactly what I needed, and precisely what I had been so desperately missing in the past 5 weeks. Eyes closed and in a supine twist, the last thing I noticed before I started to zone out was that the open air room surrounded by trees, in combination with soft background music of birds chirping, made me feel like I was in some tropical tree house. And then I let it all go, closed my eyes, and followed directions given in a soft-spoken Spanish.
The yoga itself was, shall we say, a bit unorthodox - at least compared to my previous experiences - but that didn't matter. I won't be going for the sake of perfecting my handstand. I was content enough to be in a yoga community again, blissing out in meditative movement for 90 minutes. And for less than $10, I've paid for a month unlimited (it's only 2x/wk...but who cares)...
So, gracias Sr. Victor, for reminding me to respirar - lento y profundo - and NAMASTE.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Las Terrenas, Samaná Peninsula
How in a world of 6 billion+ people this little corner can be a peaceful and secluded paradise is beyond me...but I'm hoping its the necessity of 4WD and a car snorkel that helps keep it that way.
My weekend trip to Las Terrenas marked my first weekend overnight in the DR - the first of, well, however many weekends I have left in this country...since I now fully intend to escape every possible weekend. A handful of friends and I left right after work on Friday, and made it to the beach by the afternoon. We found a nice little hotel with apartment villas, and it cost us maybe $40/person/night. We stocked our little fridges with presidentes and cuba libres and settled back to celebrate our friend Robert's birthday in paradise. (I have a feeling that I might find a new paradise each week, so be forewarned of my further over-use and abuse of that word...)
Saturday we went to a beach called Cosón. It's only 5km farther down "the road" from where we were in Las Terrenas, but without an SUV, you would be SOL. I got to christen my newly acquired set of wheels (a well-used and worn in 1998 Mercedes Benz ML320 - jeepeta) by testing their off-road capabilities. Not too shabby for either of us (me driving, my car surviving...). We got to Cosón after maybe 20 minutes of serious bumps, but it was well worth it. The only thing at playa cosón, besides white sand and turquoise waters, is a fish shack that counts on its menu a short assortment of items - fish, conch, shrimp, or lobster - take your pick and they make it fresh. We spent the day playing bocce with coconuts and drinking ice-cold presidentes.
Saturday night we ventured out to another beach, slightly closer than Cosón, but on far worse roads...(i.e. totally submerged)..at the end of the road to Playa Bonita is a little hotel called Atlantis, run by some 'French Hippies". They have a fabulous al fresco restaurant, where they make everything themselves - including the ice cream! We only stayed there long enough the celebrate a birthday dinner, but I think we all made private promises (to ourselves) to return soon and often. At night you could see all the stars in the sky, and hear the waves lapping just a few meters away.
Seeing the glorious natural resources and potential of this island can leave one slightly conflicted...like our support for the tourism clusters. I applaud their effort to help develop the communities outside of the all inclusive hotels that form their own colonies along the coast. I certainly champion their efforts to protect the environment and further conservation in the country...but if their success means that our little sleepy haven of Las Terrenas becomes overrun with spring breakers - well, selfishly I'd have to say no thank you. Go back to the all inclusive and leave the rest of us to the hidden jewels. The economic divide in these communities, though, is huge. Something like 8% of the (small) population of Las Terrenas is French. They drive around the little streets in ATVs and own gorgeous beach front villas. On the flooded road to Playa Cosón, however, half-naked little boys run around in bare feet, peeing just off the side of the road. Their families fit maybe 6 people into a small shack, made of clap board and tin roofs (rusted!). It's no wonder who would lose big if a hurricane hits...and I have to wonder which group the government would be more interested in - the tourists and their $$ or the fishermen and their shacks.
My weekend trip to Las Terrenas marked my first weekend overnight in the DR - the first of, well, however many weekends I have left in this country...since I now fully intend to escape every possible weekend. A handful of friends and I left right after work on Friday, and made it to the beach by the afternoon. We found a nice little hotel with apartment villas, and it cost us maybe $40/person/night. We stocked our little fridges with presidentes and cuba libres and settled back to celebrate our friend Robert's birthday in paradise. (I have a feeling that I might find a new paradise each week, so be forewarned of my further over-use and abuse of that word...)
Saturday we went to a beach called Cosón. It's only 5km farther down "the road" from where we were in Las Terrenas, but without an SUV, you would be SOL. I got to christen my newly acquired set of wheels (a well-used and worn in 1998 Mercedes Benz ML320 - jeepeta) by testing their off-road capabilities. Not too shabby for either of us (me driving, my car surviving...). We got to Cosón after maybe 20 minutes of serious bumps, but it was well worth it. The only thing at playa cosón, besides white sand and turquoise waters, is a fish shack that counts on its menu a short assortment of items - fish, conch, shrimp, or lobster - take your pick and they make it fresh. We spent the day playing bocce with coconuts and drinking ice-cold presidentes.
Saturday night we ventured out to another beach, slightly closer than Cosón, but on far worse roads...(i.e. totally submerged)..at the end of the road to Playa Bonita is a little hotel called Atlantis, run by some 'French Hippies". They have a fabulous al fresco restaurant, where they make everything themselves - including the ice cream! We only stayed there long enough the celebrate a birthday dinner, but I think we all made private promises (to ourselves) to return soon and often. At night you could see all the stars in the sky, and hear the waves lapping just a few meters away.
Seeing the glorious natural resources and potential of this island can leave one slightly conflicted...like our support for the tourism clusters. I applaud their effort to help develop the communities outside of the all inclusive hotels that form their own colonies along the coast. I certainly champion their efforts to protect the environment and further conservation in the country...but if their success means that our little sleepy haven of Las Terrenas becomes overrun with spring breakers - well, selfishly I'd have to say no thank you. Go back to the all inclusive and leave the rest of us to the hidden jewels. The economic divide in these communities, though, is huge. Something like 8% of the (small) population of Las Terrenas is French. They drive around the little streets in ATVs and own gorgeous beach front villas. On the flooded road to Playa Cosón, however, half-naked little boys run around in bare feet, peeing just off the side of the road. Their families fit maybe 6 people into a small shack, made of clap board and tin roofs (rusted!). It's no wonder who would lose big if a hurricane hits...and I have to wonder which group the government would be more interested in - the tourists and their $$ or the fishermen and their shacks.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Events and Day-trips - they call it work
This week might have been the longest one that I've had so far, and that's mostly because of how much I managed to pack into it. Tuesday I went to the launch of a new partner of ours, the Consorcio Dominicano de Competividad Turistica (CDCT) - I think it sounds better in Spanish. They are the product of the different tourism clusters that we work with. So, I met about 50 people on Tuesday night, all with something or other to do with the tourism industry here. Not too shabby for a work night. I think my favorite new acquaintance is this older gentlemen who runs The Nature Conservancy (his day job) and is one of the main singers in the Cuban salsa band that plays every Sunday at the Rinconcito in the Colonial Zone - one of my absolute favorite cultural events. (If you come to visit, I'll take you there.)
On Wednesday I took our summer hire out with me on a day long site visit. We went to be the representatives at a workshop run by Plan International on the Role of Journalism in Disaster Risk Reduction and Response. It was an incredibly long day (like 12hrs clocked on the job), but rather interesting to see the press here. They are very passive, in my impression. There is very little in the way of investigative journalism, and since so many of the major papers are tied to business interests, they are very reluctant to cover controversial topics or get too critical. The press that attended this workshop learned more about their role and responsibility as community members and as a crucial part of any national emergency response effort. They seemed to really be pleased with the workshop - I hope that was genuine interest and not the fact that we fed them breakfast and lunch. (The role of food in ensuring attendance sound familiar to you SIPA folk?)
Tonight I had my first set of dinner guests over. I made a variety of Indian dishes, which turned out not too shabby for not having recipes or any prior experience (not that I would have relied on either one). My scuba group came over for our theory session. I was so happy to have a dinner party again :) just like old times...
Tomorrow I am off to the beach for the weekend with a handful of friends. Since I finally got my car today (a fabulously old school '98 Mercedes Benz Jeepeta), I will be getting to take it for it's first road trip - at least under my ownership. It's going to be an awesome trip to a place called Las Terrenas, and since I have had an incredibly busy, long week...I am totally ready to collapse in the sand.
On Wednesday I took our summer hire out with me on a day long site visit. We went to be the representatives at a workshop run by Plan International on the Role of Journalism in Disaster Risk Reduction and Response. It was an incredibly long day (like 12hrs clocked on the job), but rather interesting to see the press here. They are very passive, in my impression. There is very little in the way of investigative journalism, and since so many of the major papers are tied to business interests, they are very reluctant to cover controversial topics or get too critical. The press that attended this workshop learned more about their role and responsibility as community members and as a crucial part of any national emergency response effort. They seemed to really be pleased with the workshop - I hope that was genuine interest and not the fact that we fed them breakfast and lunch. (The role of food in ensuring attendance sound familiar to you SIPA folk?)
Tonight I had my first set of dinner guests over. I made a variety of Indian dishes, which turned out not too shabby for not having recipes or any prior experience (not that I would have relied on either one). My scuba group came over for our theory session. I was so happy to have a dinner party again :) just like old times...
Tomorrow I am off to the beach for the weekend with a handful of friends. Since I finally got my car today (a fabulously old school '98 Mercedes Benz Jeepeta), I will be getting to take it for it's first road trip - at least under my ownership. It's going to be an awesome trip to a place called Las Terrenas, and since I have had an incredibly busy, long week...I am totally ready to collapse in the sand.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Road trip!
When I woke up yesterday morning, I thought I would be spending the day in a not-so-very-clean pool, having a scuba lesson. I was bummed to find out that our instructor was sick - no class! so what on earth was I going to do all day? I didn't want to stay at home all day. Luckily, neither did a friend of mine. We deliberated for maybe 15 minutes over which direction to head toward - mountains or beach - and 30 minutes later, we were off.
Since we are going to the beach next weekend with friends, we decided to head toward the mountains. We read about a small town named Constanza, nestled in a valley between the island's cordilleras (the Caribbean Alps, as they call them). Constanza has one of the sustainable tourism clusters that we work with, and they have loads to offer in the way of outdoor activties - plenty of waterfalls, hiking, mountain biking, rafting, etc. all in the region. We had a map of the country, and a general sense of the direction...the rest we left up to the wind.
The drive was absolutely beautiful! After we got outside of Santo Domingo (it's own challenge, for sure), no one was on the roads, and they were so nice and clean. This country is insanely green right now. We took the major highway toward the northwest, then turned off onto one of the mountain roads, leading through a pass to Constanza. The grade was steep and the switchbacks were hairpin, but I think the most dangerous thing about the trip was the constant urge to crane your head to the side to see the view! We just had to stop a few times for pictures.
Getting to Constanza took a bit longer than we had estimated, so we only had enough time to get lunch and look around before it was time to head back...but now we know where to go for a weekend's worth of outdoor mountain fun. All in all, it was a gloriously serenely, fresh, cool (only 65 degrees up there!), lush day. It leaves me with only one conclusion - impromptu road trips might just be the best thing ever.
Since we are going to the beach next weekend with friends, we decided to head toward the mountains. We read about a small town named Constanza, nestled in a valley between the island's cordilleras (the Caribbean Alps, as they call them). Constanza has one of the sustainable tourism clusters that we work with, and they have loads to offer in the way of outdoor activties - plenty of waterfalls, hiking, mountain biking, rafting, etc. all in the region. We had a map of the country, and a general sense of the direction...the rest we left up to the wind.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
NOAA, You're a Real Buzz-kill
I would absolutely love the rainy season here...if I never had to leave my apartment. Waking up every morning to see the sunrise, and the daily storm roll in from the ocean, has been beautiful. Unfortunately, after it happens for a week straight ...when it means flooded streets (and flooded apartments), slippery sidewalks, soaked feet, and not a cab to be found in all of Sto. Domingo...well, let's just say the novelty wears off.
Friday I was tempted to just call in sick. It was to be a half-day for me anyway, and all I had planned was to attend the emergency action committee's briefing on our hurricane plan. - reason enough to abandon my flooded laundry room in favor of work. By 10am, though, we received early dismissal due to the rains (except for those attending the meeting, of course).
I learned several very nerdy things in that EAC meeting. For starters, the average hurricane season (June 1-Nov 30, officially) produces approx. up to 11 named storms, with maybe up to 3-5 of those reaching full hurricane status. This year, NOAA had been predicting an especially 'long and active' season. That prediction has since turned into: 14-23 named storms, with 7-14 becoming full blown hurricanes. Apparently La Niña is at it again, raising temperatures in the Atlantic Basin and ready to wreak havoc while she's at it. The peak of the season is August - October, with the ultimate hurricane-making day falling on September 10th. (who knew you could predict such a thing?!) Not to be outdone by NOAA's numbers, our disaster relief people reminded us that it only takes a tropical storm to cause severe damage. A tropical storm that hit Gonaive, Haiti in 2004 killed 3,000 people. Yesterday's rain put Sto. Domingo in the red alert category for flash floods and mudslides. (Don't worry, from my perch on the 8th floor of a very nice apt bldg, I am no where near a flood or mudslide). And Tropical Storm Bonnie? That's only #2 of the season - 12 to 21 left to go...
So, NOAA, thanks for the buzz kill. Your sobering predictions have me crossing all fingers and toes that we won't have another natural disaster strike this island this year. BUT, as I left the meeting yesterday, ready for the worst, I was greeted by blue skies and city streets already sizzling from the Caribbean sun...so here's to a glimmer of hope that the predictions of weathermen don't come true
Friday I was tempted to just call in sick. It was to be a half-day for me anyway, and all I had planned was to attend the emergency action committee's briefing on our hurricane plan. - reason enough to abandon my flooded laundry room in favor of work. By 10am, though, we received early dismissal due to the rains (except for those attending the meeting, of course).
I learned several very nerdy things in that EAC meeting. For starters, the average hurricane season (June 1-Nov 30, officially) produces approx. up to 11 named storms, with maybe up to 3-5 of those reaching full hurricane status. This year, NOAA had been predicting an especially 'long and active' season. That prediction has since turned into: 14-23 named storms, with 7-14 becoming full blown hurricanes. Apparently La Niña is at it again, raising temperatures in the Atlantic Basin and ready to wreak havoc while she's at it. The peak of the season is August - October, with the ultimate hurricane-making day falling on September 10th. (who knew you could predict such a thing?!) Not to be outdone by NOAA's numbers, our disaster relief people reminded us that it only takes a tropical storm to cause severe damage. A tropical storm that hit Gonaive, Haiti in 2004 killed 3,000 people. Yesterday's rain put Sto. Domingo in the red alert category for flash floods and mudslides. (Don't worry, from my perch on the 8th floor of a very nice apt bldg, I am no where near a flood or mudslide). And Tropical Storm Bonnie? That's only #2 of the season - 12 to 21 left to go...
So, NOAA, thanks for the buzz kill. Your sobering predictions have me crossing all fingers and toes that we won't have another natural disaster strike this island this year. BUT, as I left the meeting yesterday, ready for the worst, I was greeted by blue skies and city streets already sizzling from the Caribbean sun...so here's to a glimmer of hope that the predictions of weathermen don't come true
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Blame it on the Bossa Nova...
I went to a free concert last night, sponsored by the Brazilian embassy. The concert was put on at the National Theater (a surprisingly nice, fancy place) and featured 2 Brazilian cellists (twins) and a percussionist. Although it was billed (to us anyway) as Bossa Nova, I think only 1or 2 songs actually fell under that genre. It was, shall we say, an interesting experience. I'm very glad it was free...but I'm also glad I went. I realized all over again last night just how much I enjoy seeing live performances - particularly musicians (but singers as well). It honestly makes my heart sing to see how passionate people become when they become engulfed in their music. - Their facial expressions, toe taps, total body sways, playful tête-à-têtes with other musicians....I just love it. So, even if the music itself was maybe a B-, I count the night as a success. (and getting dressed up to go do something cultural is always fun, right?)
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Pirates of the Caribbean, part 2 - National Geographic
This past week I was invited by the same IU crew that found Captain Kidd's ship to watch them excavate another wreckage site on the norhern coast of the island. The wreck(s) at Bahia Isabela, wasn't that of a pirate, however, but that of the lost fleet of Christopher Colombus. National Geographic had sent a film crew to cover IU's excavation efforts for a documentary they are producing on Columbus's first settlement and his lost fleet. I always dreamed of working for National Geographic, so you can imagine my excitement over getting to tag along for a day!
A little bit about Columbus and La Isabela...When Columbus first sailed to the New World, he passed through the Bahamas and made landfall at a point on what is now Haiti's northern coast. There the Santa Maria sank, and the crew took its timber to create a fort called Navidad. Columbus left a small group of his crew there to hold down the fort, then he left to return to Spain and make his claim of greatness. When he returned to Navidad several months later, he found the fort burned down and all of his men killed. So, he took his larger fleet of 17 ships, and continued east along the coast until he got to Isabela. There he created a new settlement, which lasted for several years. The bay, however, was not very good (it's shallow and not protected enough to make a good harbor) and in a relatively short period of time, Columbus lost several of his ships to hurricanes and other storms. That lost fleet is somewhere in the bottom of the bay, under a few meters of thick, gelatinous silt. Because of the poor quality of the bay, Columbus and his settlers eventually relocated to the southern coast of the island, to establish Santo Domingo.
Now back to my trip to La Isabela....Our day consisted of touring the ruins of the first settlement, which includes the first council building, the first church, the Admiral's house, and a graveyard for 44 Spaniards who were part of Colombus's crew. These ruins were originally excavated in the 1980s, and a museum was created on the site. Previous searches in the bay also yielded a collection of artifacts from one of Columbus's ships. This collection of artifacts, the only of its kind, is being guarded under lock and key at the Isabela museum. In addition to touring the ruins of the settlement, we joined the IU and Nat.Geo crews out on their boat as they filmed a group of underwater archeologists begin dredging the bay to uncover what they call "hot spots". I'll forgo going into detail about how they search for these ship wrecks, but I find it all fascinating. There was also quite a bit of intrigue that made the day a bit surreal.
For example, when my colleagues and I got to the site in the morning, a group of local community members were there, arguing with the caretaker and the IU crew over authorization. The community was under the impression that the crew intended to excavate and remove artifacts from the wreckage site without their knowledge or approval. Why would they think this? Well, because apparently the last foreign person/group that came to study the site TOOK one of the remains of a Spaniard with them. That's right, someone essentially grave-robbed from the first settlement in the New World. Since the story kept changing, I won't go into further detail or speculate, but bottom line...the only completely in-tact skeleton of Columbus's crew is no longer lying in his grave. R.I.P. After a good 30 minutes of discussion, we finally convinced the community group that 1.) IU and Nat.Geo were authorized and had gov't reps and the Dominican navy with them, and 2.) nothing would be removed from the site, certainly not without their knowledge or consent.
As if that weren't enough excitement for the day...I soon learned that UNESCO had had a meeting a few years ago to make the Isabela site a World Heritage site, but the various entities within the DR who have a finger in this pie (so to speak) have to speak with one voice in order for that to happen. A few years later, and that remains a challenge. In the meantime, the artifacts and the ruins, as well as the museum itself, all need to be better taken care of. Hopefully the situation will improve, and soon.
And there's more....Were you aware of treasure hunting as a perfectly legit business? That's right. For a cut of the profit, a private company will go find that sunken pirate ship for you, since they've got the equipment and the expertise to do so. On the one hand, that sounds like a pretty exciting job to have, but on the other...it brings up the question of who really owns these sunken ships, and who has the right to benefit from them? Approaching the excavation and preservation of a wreck like IU did with Captain Kidd (and is doing with La Isabela's lost fleet), means that there is local expertise and buy-in, efforts are taken to protect the environment, and a scenario is created for a country to profit from sustainable, eco-tourism. I don't know how the private companies do it, so I'm not trying to insinuate that they pillage the environment or anything, but they do take a cut of the profit, which could go to that country instead. With all the wrecks that remain waiting to be found (like Captain Morgan's HMS Oxford, off of Isle de Vache in Haiti), it will be very interesting indeed to see which approach gathers more support. But considering how much the local, regional and national economies could be helped by successful, sustainable eco-tourism and the fabulous diving that goes with it, I sincerely hope we see more living museums of the sea.
(PHOTOS: top - sunrise at the beach at Luperon, near La Isabela; second - film crew out on the water; third - La Isabela Museum; bottom - view of Bahia Isabela, and the little blue launch they used to dredge up the silt)
A little bit about Columbus and La Isabela...When Columbus first sailed to the New World, he passed through the Bahamas and made landfall at a point on what is now Haiti's northern coast. There the Santa Maria sank, and the crew took its timber to create a fort called Navidad. Columbus left a small group of his crew there to hold down the fort, then he left to return to Spain and make his claim of greatness. When he returned to Navidad several months later, he found the fort burned down and all of his men killed. So, he took his larger fleet of 17 ships, and continued east along the coast until he got to Isabela. There he created a new settlement, which lasted for several years. The bay, however, was not very good (it's shallow and not protected enough to make a good harbor) and in a relatively short period of time, Columbus lost several of his ships to hurricanes and other storms. That lost fleet is somewhere in the bottom of the bay, under a few meters of thick, gelatinous silt. Because of the poor quality of the bay, Columbus and his settlers eventually relocated to the southern coast of the island, to establish Santo Domingo.
For example, when my colleagues and I got to the site in the morning, a group of local community members were there, arguing with the caretaker and the IU crew over authorization. The community was under the impression that the crew intended to excavate and remove artifacts from the wreckage site without their knowledge or approval. Why would they think this? Well, because apparently the last foreign person/group that came to study the site TOOK one of the remains of a Spaniard with them. That's right, someone essentially grave-robbed from the first settlement in the New World. Since the story kept changing, I won't go into further detail or speculate, but bottom line...the only completely in-tact skeleton of Columbus's crew is no longer lying in his grave. R.I.P. After a good 30 minutes of discussion, we finally convinced the community group that 1.) IU and Nat.Geo were authorized and had gov't reps and the Dominican navy with them, and 2.) nothing would be removed from the site, certainly not without their knowledge or consent.
As if that weren't enough excitement for the day...I soon learned that UNESCO had had a meeting a few years ago to make the Isabela site a World Heritage site, but the various entities within the DR who have a finger in this pie (so to speak) have to speak with one voice in order for that to happen. A few years later, and that remains a challenge. In the meantime, the artifacts and the ruins, as well as the museum itself, all need to be better taken care of. Hopefully the situation will improve, and soon.
(PHOTOS: top - sunrise at the beach at Luperon, near La Isabela; second - film crew out on the water; third - La Isabela Museum; bottom - view of Bahia Isabela, and the little blue launch they used to dredge up the silt)
Pirates of the Caribbean, part 1
I suppose when people think of pirates these days, they either think of Disney movies or they think of Somalia. Well, here in the Caribbean, pirates are alive and well - both historically and in present day.
The coastline of Hispaniola (for those of you geographically-impaired, that is the name of the island that contains the DR and Haiti) is littered with the legends of shipwrecks. From Captain Morgan to Captain Kidd, some of the most famous and notorious pirates hung out in these waters, and they lost many ships along the way. Only a handful have been found and excavated. Most have been honed in on through historical record and limited underwater surveillance, but have yet to be excavated or their existence proved beyond a doubt.
In 2007, a group of underwater archeologists from Indiana University discovered Captain Kidd's ship, the Quedagh Merchant, sunken in only 13ft. of water off Catalina Island, DR. What remains of the ship may seem unexciting - only a dozen or so cannons and a few anchors - but the story that goes with it is the stuff legends are made of (quite literally, in fact). As the story goes, Captain Kidd was a privateer for the British (meaning his piracy was sanctioned as long as it went against the Brit's enemies). His crew was growing restless after 2 yrs at sea, when they came across the Quedagh Merchant, full of commerce, in the Indian Ocean. They took over the ship and headed for the Caribbean to sell its wares. Unfortunately for Captain Kidd, the Brits had investments in the Q.Merchant, so instead of welcoming his efforts, they branded him a pirate. So, Captain Kidd had 2 choices - embrace piracy and make a run for it, or fight for his honor and try to clear his name. He tried the latter, and failed miserably. Kidd hid his new ship in a salt water lagoon on Catalina Island, and headed north to New York to try to clear his name. When he got to Long Island, he buried some treasure on he beach as a safeguard - an act which, along with hiding the Q.Merchant, gave rise to the belief that all pirates bury/hide their treasure. His efforts to clear his name failed. He was arrested and sent back to England, where he was tried, convicted and hanged for piracy. After his demise, the Q. Merchant was set on fire and scuttled at Catalina Island. (where it took over 300 yrs for someone to find again).
I'm telling this little tail, not only because I find the history fascinating, but because (lucky me!) it is actually related to my job. After finding Captain Kidd's ship, the IU crew had the fabulous idea of turning it into a "living museum of the sea". We gave them a grant to help them out, and the idea is slowly being replicated at other wrecks around the country. Creating a living museum means extra environmental protection for the wreckage site as well as for the sensitive coral/underwater environment in its vicinity. Museum-like displays with the history of the site can be found nearby on the beach area, encouraging visitors to learn about AND experience this history. People can snorkel, scuba or just learn about it on land. For a country that relies so heavily on tourism, but has so much farther to go with its environmental efforts, this is a excellent endeavor.
The historical pirates maintain their presence through these sites, while the present-day pirates prey on unprepared yachts that stop to rest in the Dominican harbors, on their journey from Miami to points south and east in the Caribbean archipelago. So, let that be a warning to those of you with dreams of sailing around the Caribbean - pirates still exist. Just stay away from the Venezuelan pirates, with them you may lose more than your riches....
The coastline of Hispaniola (for those of you geographically-impaired, that is the name of the island that contains the DR and Haiti) is littered with the legends of shipwrecks. From Captain Morgan to Captain Kidd, some of the most famous and notorious pirates hung out in these waters, and they lost many ships along the way. Only a handful have been found and excavated. Most have been honed in on through historical record and limited underwater surveillance, but have yet to be excavated or their existence proved beyond a doubt.
In 2007, a group of underwater archeologists from Indiana University discovered Captain Kidd's ship, the Quedagh Merchant, sunken in only 13ft. of water off Catalina Island, DR. What remains of the ship may seem unexciting - only a dozen or so cannons and a few anchors - but the story that goes with it is the stuff legends are made of (quite literally, in fact). As the story goes, Captain Kidd was a privateer for the British (meaning his piracy was sanctioned as long as it went against the Brit's enemies). His crew was growing restless after 2 yrs at sea, when they came across the Quedagh Merchant, full of commerce, in the Indian Ocean. They took over the ship and headed for the Caribbean to sell its wares. Unfortunately for Captain Kidd, the Brits had investments in the Q.Merchant, so instead of welcoming his efforts, they branded him a pirate. So, Captain Kidd had 2 choices - embrace piracy and make a run for it, or fight for his honor and try to clear his name. He tried the latter, and failed miserably. Kidd hid his new ship in a salt water lagoon on Catalina Island, and headed north to New York to try to clear his name. When he got to Long Island, he buried some treasure on he beach as a safeguard - an act which, along with hiding the Q.Merchant, gave rise to the belief that all pirates bury/hide their treasure. His efforts to clear his name failed. He was arrested and sent back to England, where he was tried, convicted and hanged for piracy. After his demise, the Q. Merchant was set on fire and scuttled at Catalina Island. (where it took over 300 yrs for someone to find again).
I'm telling this little tail, not only because I find the history fascinating, but because (lucky me!) it is actually related to my job. After finding Captain Kidd's ship, the IU crew had the fabulous idea of turning it into a "living museum of the sea". We gave them a grant to help them out, and the idea is slowly being replicated at other wrecks around the country. Creating a living museum means extra environmental protection for the wreckage site as well as for the sensitive coral/underwater environment in its vicinity. Museum-like displays with the history of the site can be found nearby on the beach area, encouraging visitors to learn about AND experience this history. People can snorkel, scuba or just learn about it on land. For a country that relies so heavily on tourism, but has so much farther to go with its environmental efforts, this is a excellent endeavor.
The historical pirates maintain their presence through these sites, while the present-day pirates prey on unprepared yachts that stop to rest in the Dominican harbors, on their journey from Miami to points south and east in the Caribbean archipelago. So, let that be a warning to those of you with dreams of sailing around the Caribbean - pirates still exist. Just stay away from the Venezuelan pirates, with them you may lose more than your riches....
Friday, July 16, 2010
Visit to Los Bateyes
After 11 months of working in Washington (and enjoying every minute of it), I can't tell you how excited I was to finally return to the field. It's been two years since I've been out of the country - quite possibly a new record - and three since the last time I lived abroad. So, when the chance came to go out into the field for a site visit, to say I jumped at the chance would be an understatement.
Last week (July 7th), I joined other colleagues from my office on a day-long tour of four of the bateys that we are working in. What is a batey, you ask?
Well, bateys are essentially rural ghettos. They were, at one time, residential barracks for migrant workers who worked the sugar cane plantations. Most of these workers came from Haiti, some forcibly, others by choice. They lived in barracks built for single men, and worked on the plantations all year. Over the years, these men brought their families to join them. These plantations have a long history in the DR. They were once private holdings, but Trujillo appropriated many as his own during his rule. After Trujillo was gone, the government nationalized the land he had taken, creating a national sugarcane business. Throughout all of this, the predominantly-Haitian migrant workers (and their families) continued to live in the bateys and work the land. When the price of sugar dropped, however, the government decided to end production on many of these plantations, essentially abandoning the workers. As it stands now, several generations of Dominican, Dominican-Haitian and Haitian families are stuck in their batey communities, without work, without social services, and, for the most part, without legal documentation to enable them to leave and seek out a better life in another town or city. The government allows them to continue to live in the bateys, but they cannot expand onto new land, nor can they work the land that the government abandoned for their own economic benefit. So there they live, in desperate straights, families of 6 in a one room home the size of my office.
So, that's the bateys in a nutshell. As for our work, we support the work of Save the Children and a Dominican Women's Development organization in at least 8 bateys throughout the country. The project is one of community development, basic health and education, and helping to provide the basic needs of shelter, water and sanitation. From what I saw last week, it seems like our partners have moved mountains in the two years they have been working. For example, we saw the founding meeting of a community water board, where all the households of a batey elected community members to leadership positions (most of them women) and agreed to pay a monthly charge for their water. For families that have so little, agreeing to pay consistently for the maintenance and upkeep of their community water source is a big deal. We also heard that two of the bateys recently had devastating fires which destroyed two barracks. The emergency response community group of one of those bateys, which was created through our project and had trained as first responders, managed to save the lives of 2 children with their quick and professional response to the fire. Imagine what we as a community do when there is a fire or other emergency in our neighborhood. We call 911 and then watch, right? This is some serious community building.
I could go on and on with the anecdotes and the challenges, but I think I've sufficiently painted a picture. For me, it was ultimately gratifying because, after 11 months of high level politics, policy and meetings, I finally returned to the field...and was reminded of why I'm doing this work in the first place. I count myself lucky to have such an exciting and fulfilling job. This makes me so very excited for the next two years.
Last week (July 7th), I joined other colleagues from my office on a day-long tour of four of the bateys that we are working in. What is a batey, you ask?
Well, bateys are essentially rural ghettos. They were, at one time, residential barracks for migrant workers who worked the sugar cane plantations. Most of these workers came from Haiti, some forcibly, others by choice. They lived in barracks built for single men, and worked on the plantations all year. Over the years, these men brought their families to join them. These plantations have a long history in the DR. They were once private holdings, but Trujillo appropriated many as his own during his rule. After Trujillo was gone, the government nationalized the land he had taken, creating a national sugarcane business. Throughout all of this, the predominantly-Haitian migrant workers (and their families) continued to live in the bateys and work the land. When the price of sugar dropped, however, the government decided to end production on many of these plantations, essentially abandoning the workers. As it stands now, several generations of Dominican, Dominican-Haitian and Haitian families are stuck in their batey communities, without work, without social services, and, for the most part, without legal documentation to enable them to leave and seek out a better life in another town or city. The government allows them to continue to live in the bateys, but they cannot expand onto new land, nor can they work the land that the government abandoned for their own economic benefit. So there they live, in desperate straights, families of 6 in a one room home the size of my office.
So, that's the bateys in a nutshell. As for our work, we support the work of Save the Children and a Dominican Women's Development organization in at least 8 bateys throughout the country. The project is one of community development, basic health and education, and helping to provide the basic needs of shelter, water and sanitation. From what I saw last week, it seems like our partners have moved mountains in the two years they have been working. For example, we saw the founding meeting of a community water board, where all the households of a batey elected community members to leadership positions (most of them women) and agreed to pay a monthly charge for their water. For families that have so little, agreeing to pay consistently for the maintenance and upkeep of their community water source is a big deal. We also heard that two of the bateys recently had devastating fires which destroyed two barracks. The emergency response community group of one of those bateys, which was created through our project and had trained as first responders, managed to save the lives of 2 children with their quick and professional response to the fire. Imagine what we as a community do when there is a fire or other emergency in our neighborhood. We call 911 and then watch, right? This is some serious community building.
I could go on and on with the anecdotes and the challenges, but I think I've sufficiently painted a picture. For me, it was ultimately gratifying because, after 11 months of high level politics, policy and meetings, I finally returned to the field...and was reminded of why I'm doing this work in the first place. I count myself lucky to have such an exciting and fulfilling job. This makes me so very excited for the next two years.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Bienvenido a Santo Domingo
A new country, a new adventure, and a new blog.
I've started over with this attempt at public journaling, for various unexciting reasons, but I plan to eventually upload the old posts to an archive....for your reading pleasure, I'm sure.
So, here I am, 2 weeks in to my life in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. So far, so good. Actually, I immediately felt rather comfortable here...there are enough of those odd similarities with the other places I've lived, I guess. The crazy traffic, street vendors, a slower pace at the same time that everything seems to be moving faster around you. Why I can be so easily at home in chaos is beyond me...
In typical Liz fashion, I wasted no time in diving into work and into 'trouble'. (I use that term lightly, of course.) In two weeks I've already helped with at least 2 urgent taskers from DC, and I've been on 2 site visits. I also worked as a greeter for the embassy 4th of July event. - that's the work side. And for the trouble...well, I've already nearly been stranded by torrential downpours, flooded my laundry room in a novice attempt to re-acquaint myself with owning a washer and dryer, lost power for 24hrs (only one in the building), and had a dengue/malaria scare (according to the Doc, it's just a cold...) So, yeah, I'm off to a good start.
Writing all of that down reminds me of my conversation this morning with my new co-workers. They organized a welcome breakfast for me (such a great team!) and as we munched they asked me to tell a little bit about myself. I went over a quick timeline, starting with Argentina...and glossing quickly over most things. They stopped me somewhere between the Orange Revolution and San Fermin to exclaim that I am like Forrest Gump. he he. And I didn't even get to the riot story or the penguins!....They wonder what stories I might have by the time I leave here in two years. I wonder the same thing.
So, anyway, I am here in sunny Santo Domingo, settling into a new life. I'll do my best to tell as many of those stories as I can...and to provide some photographic evidence whenever possible.
But for right now, this is good night. This girl's gotta scuba diving lesson tomorrow
I've started over with this attempt at public journaling, for various unexciting reasons, but I plan to eventually upload the old posts to an archive....for your reading pleasure, I'm sure.
So, here I am, 2 weeks in to my life in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. So far, so good. Actually, I immediately felt rather comfortable here...there are enough of those odd similarities with the other places I've lived, I guess. The crazy traffic, street vendors, a slower pace at the same time that everything seems to be moving faster around you. Why I can be so easily at home in chaos is beyond me...
In typical Liz fashion, I wasted no time in diving into work and into 'trouble'. (I use that term lightly, of course.) In two weeks I've already helped with at least 2 urgent taskers from DC, and I've been on 2 site visits. I also worked as a greeter for the embassy 4th of July event. - that's the work side. And for the trouble...well, I've already nearly been stranded by torrential downpours, flooded my laundry room in a novice attempt to re-acquaint myself with owning a washer and dryer, lost power for 24hrs (only one in the building), and had a dengue/malaria scare (according to the Doc, it's just a cold...) So, yeah, I'm off to a good start.
Writing all of that down reminds me of my conversation this morning with my new co-workers. They organized a welcome breakfast for me (such a great team!) and as we munched they asked me to tell a little bit about myself. I went over a quick timeline, starting with Argentina...and glossing quickly over most things. They stopped me somewhere between the Orange Revolution and San Fermin to exclaim that I am like Forrest Gump. he he. And I didn't even get to the riot story or the penguins!....They wonder what stories I might have by the time I leave here in two years. I wonder the same thing.
So, anyway, I am here in sunny Santo Domingo, settling into a new life. I'll do my best to tell as many of those stories as I can...and to provide some photographic evidence whenever possible.
But for right now, this is good night. This girl's gotta scuba diving lesson tomorrow
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