Pit Toilets and Cow Tongues

one last thing...

2010-05-22T06:02:00.001-07:00

I accidentally put these in mostly chronological order...captions at bottom

1) Rich versus poor, neighbors in Constanza

2) Some hilarious geese, our barrio in Constanza

3) Religion is sport, Constanza

4) A nice house in the Batey, Las Pajas

5) Los Pilones

6) Punta Rusia from the end of town

7) A pet parrot, Los Pilones

8) The view "uptown" from my plastic chair, Punta Rusia

9) The view "downtown" from my plastic chair, Punta Rusia

10) The restaurant I lived above for most of my service--from my plastic chair, Punta Rusia
11) Elementary school and library, Punta Rusia

12) My first Dominican boyfriend/nephew Edison, Punta Rusia

13) Reina and Lorena, Punta Rusia

14) The sunset from my porch, Punta Rusia

15) My house, Punta Rusia

16) Beach cleaning and trash burning on earth day, Punta Rusia

17) Kids in the "park", Punta Rusia

18) More earth day, Punta Rusia

19) Two wood and zinc houses by the side of the newly paved road, Los Pilones

20) The gas station, Punta Rusia

Saying Goodbye

2010-05-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

Hello there readers.

For anyone reading who isn't on my email list or facebook....

Due to some unforeseen and unforeseeable events back home, my Peace Corps service has come to a close. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me.

In the words of my director, I did not fail, I finished.

Cuidanse y gracias.

heat and politics

2010-05-06T08:18:00.000-07:00

Here’s a shout out to the Dirigo High School in Maine spring break crew. Hope you had a great time, I sure did.

-I underestimated the heat. There are, I’ve decided, two signifiers of intense heat and I’ve felt both of them in the span of one day. Number one: when you’re sitting still in the shade and you break a sweat. Number two: when you’re on the back of a motorcycle wearing a tank top and shorts going forty kilometers per hour and you feel like you’re driving through a convection oven.

-Shouting and talking over one another during political campaigns seems to be a universal pain in my rear. At least the colors here are different; it’s purple versus white instead of red versus blue.

-You know how when you find out where someone is from and you instantly rack your brain to see if you already know someone from there? And then when you realize that you do you ask the person if they know who you’re talking about, no matter how big the town/city/country? That happens a lot here. I was explaining to someone that I’ve never actually been to New York City and aside from not quite believing me they then asked :
-“Well even if that’s the case, do you know Joe Rodriguez? Because he lives there and he’s my cousin and I figured since you’re from the same place (i.e. the United States aka New York) you’d probably know him.”
- “I’m from the other side of the country. I’ve never been to New York. And there are 300 million people in my country. That’s like the Dominican Republic times 30.”
-“So you’re saying you don’t know him…”
Similarly a lot of people assume that I know the white people in town because hey, we all do look alike. But on the flipside of this, whenever I see white people in town I double take because I think I do know them. This might be from the aforementioned blog of me living in a rather extreme minority.

-Will someone please explain to me where 2009 went, and then explain where 2010 is going? I swear it hasn’t been a year since I was incredibly anxiously awaiting my placement for the Peace Corps.

-My dad came to visit and told me that I’m a lot braver than I used to be. That I sort of just jump into things here and assume the outcome will be good because assuming otherwise isn’t at all helpful. I almost cried. My dad thinks I’m brave.

-I remember when I applied for the Peace Corps that I refused to say that there was somewhere that I wouldn’t go but secretly really really didn’t want to go to Africa because I thought I couldn’t hack it. Then when I got here and visited the Batey I decided that I really really didn’t want to spend my two years in a Batey because I didn’t think I could hack it. Now I see pictures of people doing Peace Corps Africa and I’m kind of jealous. It’s not that I don’t think I’m helping here—I do believe I’m bringing something to the table—but man, talk about culture shock. It would be so amazing to be thrown into a culture that is almost unrecognizable to our own—this one still has its Telemundo, love of baseball, light beer and aeropostale t-shirts. This is probably the dad-bravery statement in action.

2010-04-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

-I never realized how anonymous life is in the United States. And while some people might lament that they don’t like the anonymity and we should live in a communal world and blah blah etc, try living in a country where you are not only the racial and cultural minority but you are essentially one of a kind. Where everything you do is of interest to everyone and the most mundane parts of life are spectacle. And sometimes, when you’ve had a long week and you just want to listen to some music and have a beer you don’t want to have to explain why or what you are doing to anyone. Don’t take that anonymity for granted, I miss it.

-I find myself defending God a lot. To some of you—most of you—this might sound a little, well, odd. But here in this country, and a little bit in this town we have this really feverish type of evangelism that is really only fire and brimstony. What happened to the Haitians is because of their pact with the devil, if women wear pants they are probably going to hell, and Catholics worship too many false idols. Oh, and god is very very angry with us. I don’t know if it’s my college degree or what but several people seem to ask me with some authority if I believe what Pastor says. I politely say no and that my reason is that I believe that God lives in the heart not in the tongue/mind and that the message of Jesus was love and compassion not hatred and exclusivity. Interestingly, while I still don’t believe in hell and I’m pretty sure I don’t believe in heaven, I absolutely believe the previous sentence—but I still don’t want to go to church.

-I’ve read 37 books since August 20th 2009. One recently was a dense 400 pager that I finished in two days called Random Family; it’s wonderful, you should read it. I’ve been told and have realized that I will never have this much time to read except for maybe in my retirement if such a thing will ever exist. My themes have covered everything from poverty in the US, poverty in the middle east, poverty in Haiti, poverty in the DR, love stories, utopian environmentalist stories, economics, quite a bit about god in all different forms, funny stories, tough life stories, a lot of prison stories (not intentionally or related), and David Sedaris. Any suggestions?

-There is maybe nothing more repulsive than finding a cockroach nestled comfortably in the business end of your toothbrush.

it's short. live it.

2010-03-17T20:22:00.000-07:00

I went to check my email this morning on the frustratingly slow but still existing internet connection at Franklin's house. It's only one bar of unprotected, unfirewalled, wireless service but it's been a godsend as I previously only was able to check my email about twice a month.

The first email in my inbox was a facebook group invitation: In Loving Memory of Sarah E Jennings.

I found out from facebook--a group invitation not even an email or wall post mind you--that my best friend died.

Four years ago this July I received a text message from Sarah saying "I have a brain tumor, will you come to the hospital?" She was doped out of her gourd and did not remember sending such a loving text. The coming months were surgeries, chemo, my college graduation, and a general reluctance and guilt to want to bust the hell out. She told me I had to go. Someone had to have the adventures for us, and she wasn't currently capable.

So I went. She beat cancer. Life was good.

Last year, cancer tried to come back. Chemo, she lost some hair, she beat cancer again. Bad ass. I was just off trying to have adventures, she was fighting wars right inside that teeny tiny little body. I told her I was joining Peace Corps and that she needed to be done with this cancer for good. Of course, she said. What if something happens? I thought/maybe said. But of course you have to go, she said, why on earth wouldn't you?

February. I receive a thanksgiving card from Sarah (the mail is slow here), she's great. Days later I receive an email. Cryptic at best, but only a small hiccup, not cancer, just a small hiccup. Eric and I are getting married, she says. Where are my nieces and nephews and when can I secretly feed them meat, I ask. No response.

Today I open my email. You have been invited to join the group In Loving Memory of Sarah E Jennings. Damn you, facebook.

Eric emails me (thankyou facebook), the last few months have been a battle but we decided not to focus on dying. She didn't tell me. She said she was fine. Of course she didn't tell me. Then who would be out having our adventures?

She said she was proud of me, he said he was proud of me. I'm just trying to have our adventures. Somebody has to do it, since she can't.

turning 26

2010-02-26T09:30:00.000-08:00

Oregon Youth Health Sexual Plan
That was to get the attention of the person who left me a comment on my last blog, in case you aren’t following still. Thanks for the great comment. I hope you continue to follow through my service since the sexual health initiative is one of my main projects here. Also, thanks for making Oregon great.
Moving on.

-My reproductive organs charla was pretty fantastic if you consider fantastic an hour’s worth of question and answer on crazy myths and beliefs like I do (seriously, it was awesome). And I do consider that great because today there are 15 more kids who know that you can still get pregnant in water, and that you won’t die if you go swimming on your period…unless you swim through a shark’s nest, but you might die without your period there. We do condoms next. I have a little smiling condom as an advertisement, hopefully it goes well.

-My nephew just discovered pockets. This is kind of a big deal, especially considering the rate of losing small things just went way up.

-In case I haven’t mentioned 6 or 7 times already, there are two “national” dances here. I use quotes because I guess they aren’t official but they’re so popular they’re really unofficially official. The Bachata and the Merengue. The Bachata is a slower, generally more romantic dance with a 4 or 8 count depending on the music. It is the hard one. Merengue is easier but faster and sweatier and you generally want to get showier because you’re moving faster. Seemingly every Dominican over the age of 12 knows how to do both of these dances and especially the men can’t help but dancing at every song. As a gringa these dances aren’t too awfully hard because all you have to do is follow—I’m not great, but I’m getting better at following. But our poor poor gringos. We have a sliding scale of ability there: can dance; thinks he can’t dance but actually can; thinks he can dance well but only marginally has rhythm but has fun; know they can’t dance but they’re trying and learning; improving; think they can dance but have negative amounts of rhythm and step on feet without noticing. Also guys, if you’re reading this, I’ll let you decipher who’s who, and just so you know, Salsa can’t be danced like Merengue OR Bachata, it can only be danced like Salsa, and it’s hard.

-For my 26th birthday I got two excellent parties, a fever—not for cowbell, and an inner ear infection. Regardless, it was definitely one of the best birthdays ever. Also, I was not surprised by my first ever surprise party but it didn’t make it any less fun. Interestingly you can figure out you’re having a surprise birthday party when you’re at the supermercado with the planners buying things that look to be for a party but you are assured that they are for “oh nothing.”

-Per the title of this blog: I have used a pit toilet. I still have not eaten a cow’s tongue. BUT I have eaten (vegans please move on, this is not for you) a cow’s hoof. Not in the fashion that dog’s eat cow’s hooves like bones, but the innards of a cow’s hoof. The gelatin-y part. It doesn’t taste bad, but it smells awful, the texture is weird, and once you’re finally told what it is, interestingly you might lose your appetite. I may have made the mistake on day 1 of telling them that I like pretty much anything except for eggplant and Bacalao (think sardines times a million more pounds of salt) but I reiterated last night that I will at the very least try everything I haven’t had at least once. We can now add cow foot to the “no” list.

-The condom charla went pretty great except that I was missing some of my favorite youth, but I did get the tigueres to show up which is sort of a feat in itself. And they all rather willingly put that condom on that plantain. So now I’m rather officially the town condom fairy. I told them that they have to use the trash cans that the last volunteer installed and not the street to throw them, and that I would not be the condom provider for party favors or balloons, only sex…not to encourage them or anything, but if you knew my teenagers you’d know that abstinence is a word that we might not need to bother learning and I want those condoms used correctly dammit.

-My English grammar gets worse every day (obviously). Unfortunately, my Spanish isn’t improving as fast as my English is deteriorating. My apologies.

sidewalks and escojo

2010-01-27T05:44:00.000-08:00

-A sign was posted by our municipal government on an abandoned building, because that’s apparently where people are supposed to read signs not pertaining to said abandoned building. I may be the first person who actually noticed or read the sign. It stated that we will be getting 4 sidewalks installed in our little community which is a place that doesn’t often see the presence of our municipal government. The first thing noticeable was that it was written very obviously on a type-writer. This is a little unnerving considering an official government document, stamped and sealed by a notary and the sindico is not being saved and documented in a computer file somewhere (we’ll see if we get those sidewalks). But the sidewalks are also notable for other reasons. First, we don’t even have a paved road. Our road is dirt and sand and the plan is to build cement sidewalks. On top of sand. Before an actual street. Second, is the idea that the notice said that the sidewalks were being put into place for the safety and education of the children here, when our teachers have been asking for months, if not years, for a second classroom so as to have only two grades at a time in a single room instead of four. Hmmm.

-I started my first real project this month with the first real functioning meeting on Sunday (17 jan). I’m working with an initiative called Escojo Mi Vida which means “I choose my life” and it’s a youth group with charlas (classes) dedicated to healthy decision making, sexual education and health, and adolescent changes. The idea of standing in front of a bunch of teenagers giving lectures in Spanish about their changing bodies gave me an anxiety unmatched since the incredibly uncomfortable (and not in the funny way) sex talk that my mother’s friends forced her to give me in the eleventh grade—which may not be too late here but is about seven years too late there, sorry mom. My anxiety was only heightened with the realization that my first talk, about values and self esteem, was easily the most boring subject in my laundry list of sex, drugs, and prostitute lectures I would eventually be giving. But then this amazing thing happened: they were totally into it. Every teenager wanted to tell me exactly what the value respect means and how it’s the same but different from the value of tolerance. Every teenager wanted to share what they thought made them special so that they could remember it when their self esteem was low. The only giggles were born out of that special awkward feeling you carry around like your own soul when you’re fourteen, not because this far too old woman who butchers the language is teaching you stuff you already know. Probably because they don’t already know it. Rather unfortunately I suppose, self esteem and values aren’t shoved down Dominican throats like they are in America and beyond that, kids and teens here seem especially starved for adult acknowledgement and attention—even if that comes in the form of some woman who is way too old to not have kids (I’m 25) talking about sex. But at least I’m trying.

-I just saw my neighbor club a chicken. Wednesday is chicken day. This is the day that a guy comes around in a truck with a chicken coop in the bed. His lady friend (wife? sister? niece? girlfriend? business partner?) brings a scale over and attaches it to the awning. Then depending on the quantity of chickens one desires a teenage boy either brings over a bag full of chickens (live mind you) to be weighed, or what could be called a bushel of chickens that are weighed by the foot of the chicken at the top of the bushel. Then you get to decide. You can either have them take the chickens away to an as yet undetermined location to be plucked and beheaded a la the chickens we all buy in the supermarket; OR you can keep your live chickens to club yourself and then pluck and prepare. At the restaurant we receive them like butterballs, but the club-your-own option is actually pretty popular as chicken foot is a delicacy here. Unfortunately I’m not a fan. The texture is like chewing on baby fingers.

-My second Escojo charla sucked. The third is about reproductive organs—here goes nothin’.

-The other day Franklin asked me if I wanted a mango. I said of course I want a mango. He took 25 pesos out of his pocket and bought 8 mangoes. That’s like 72 cents. For 8 mangoes. They’re two bucks each in Oregon.

-I have a rat and between 2 and 4 lizards that live in my little bedroom. I do not like the rat because the rat is eating my clothes and pooping on my things and I’m probably dying from hanta virus as we speak (please do not encourage my grandfather to look up hanta virus, it was a joke). I love the lizards because they are eating the bugs. Now if only the lizards could find a way to convince the rat to move then I would keep them for pets.

Who has the time?

2010-01-14T06:54:00.000-08:00

My deepest, deepest apologies faithful blog readers but here is a rundown of the reasons it's been a month and a half since I last posted:

It was christmas (the entire month of december is christmas). We didn't have internet for solidly 3 weeks in town and the next closest town's internet is unreliable at best. It's been raining torrentially which a)knocks down the internet signal and b)makes it nearly impossible to want to leave the house because it's so muddy and gross and cold. Yes, cold. So some of the things in this blog are xmas related but I'm certain you can look past my tardiness...

And before I get started with pre-written blog, I'd like to make a note about Haiti. It is no secret that the world rains black clouds on Haiti, and two days ago it happened again when a 7.3 earthquake hit just near the capital and pretty much crumbled any semblance of government they had left. People are dying in the streets, I know because the news here doesn't hide the bodies like the news there--and I'm not sure which is worse. Although I'm a fairly good distance from the epicenter, we felt the quake quite strong here probably around a 4.0 which is apparently stronger than a lot of the rest of the country felt, but everyone here is OK and life is getting more or less back to normal, if not dominated by earthquake Haiti talk. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to go to Haiti, though I wish I could (sorry Mom) to help. But I know there are a number of websites collecting donations and there is always Dr. Paul Farmer's Partners in Health that has been working in Haiti for over 20 years and will probably be working triple time now.

And on to the blog...
-Christmas caroling. Almost a rite of passage for kids around the world, going all over the neighborhood singing traditional Christmas songs, sometimes playing instruments or drums as an accompaniment. If I remember correctly it’s usually done in the evening time…after dinner? That’s almost the truth here. Every kid definitely gets involved and there are definitely drums. And it’s most certainly performed in the dark hours. But, one major difference I’ve noted is that it starts at roughly 5:30 in the morning until 7ish. It’s not even upsetting because it’s so weird.

-1km away from my house is what I am told is the most beautiful beach in the country (it’s one of only two beaches I’ve been to down here so that’s why I have to qualify with what I am told is the most beautiful). This however didn’t stop someone from having to build an Olympic sized swimming pool surrounded by a great wall overlooking the most beautiful beach with a gigantic sign that says (in Spanish): “Danger. Savage Dogs.” Savage? They really do have a flair for the dramatic here.

-I would like to describe what I will call “poor man’s razor wire” which is actually more aesthetically pleasing and looks to be a hell of a lot more painful than actual razor wire. First, you take glass Presidente and Brugal bottles and break off the bottoms a la a bar fight. Second you build a cinderblock wall around your house. Third you place the bottles neck down in the holes of the cinder blocks and mortar them down and voila you have what looks like green and clear glass flowers that will rip you to shreds faster than those savage dogs.

-I’m not particularly sparkly. I don’t really drift toward shiny things. Diamonds and sequins aren’t my thing. This is pretty obvious with my outward appearance and has been audibly noted by many of my friends. But whenever I get a gift from a Dominican it in some way incorporates some form of glitter as though they think I’ve just not yet discovered it as opposed to having preferences against. Oh well, a gift is a gift.

-Motorcycle riding pretty much the sole form of transportation in most of this country. Thus it’s no longer surprising to see motors packed with people, household appliances, babies, etc. So we PCV’s had to catch ourselves one day when someone asked “I don’t remember what they do in the states, do they have helmets for babies or what?” To which we pondered until we realized that until here none of us had actually seen anyone younger than probably 16 on the back of a motorcycle. Ever. Somewhat surprisingly (knock on wood) I haven’t heard of any terrible accidents involving small children. Just adults. And Cows.

-For those of you who have been keeping track, a new bar opened last week. That’s 6 drinking establishments for 400 people...and that doesn't include the Colmados that just sell the booze but don't actually have tables and chairs.

-I never thought of eco-consciousness or wanting to eat as healthy as possible as being bourgeois but it totally is.

-We don’t have a gas station. This isn’t really surprising since there are only 400 people in town. Estero Hondo doesn’t have a gas station either. This is slightly more surprising since they have around 2000 people. The closest real gas station is 22km away in Villa Isabela. So how do we get gas you ask? A local opportunistic entrepreneur goes to one of our bars or colmados and collects up the empty beer and rum bottles and then drives the empties in his truck to Isabela. Then he fills all of those bottles with gasoline. Then he brings them back here and sells them. It’s about 90 pesos for a half gallon of rum gasoline, and I think it’s about 40 or 50 pesos for the jumbo Presidente cerveza gasoline. Thus, we have a gas station-ish.

-Feel good moment: you don’t have to feel guilty for being an American anymore (not that you did, and that’s fine). Rich people the world over including from developing countries seem to think they pee gold and that everything their obnoxious brats do is the cutest thing in the world.

What's in a year?

2009-11-27T06:13:00.001-08:00

Every year for the last several I’ve written a “things I’ve learned in the last year” blogpost, usually posted to MySpace. Since MySpace died a slow and painful death last year, and I’m quite certain no one reads it, and a lot has happened in the last year, I’ll post here as I know I have a pretty solid readership. For those of you, who know me solely through Peace Corps, keep in mind that for a lot of the year, I wasn’t in Peace Corps yet. Next year will probably wholly be things I learned in Peace Corps. Some of the points are fluffy, or silly, or dumb, others are more serious, others are hard for me to swallow still now, but the point is to get it all out there, reflect, and move on. So, here we go…

• Having my own apartment with no roommates, and no parents, and no clandestine animals, and no split payments, and one rent payment that I could barely afford on my own was one of the most freeing and wonderful feelings I’ve ever had. It is also one of the first times that I came to the realization that I am an adult and expect to be treated as one. Interestingly, not living in college flop house style at 25 afforded me this very respect.
• I truly and honestly don’t give two shits about snow. I think snowboarding is really fun, and I wouldn’t trade my time learning and playing, but in the end, I don’t and won’t live or die by the inch count. I will still go snowboarding, and I even hope to learn to ski one day but if I miss a season, I refuse to apologize. There, I said it.
• There’s nothing like waking up after an intense fight and diving head first into a Peace Corps application. There’s also nothing like having an intense fight to make you realize that you’ve been putting life on hold and it’s time to start that Peace Corps application already.
• My family are amazingly supportive of the crazy adventures I tell them I’m about to go do, every time.
• I love everything about cupcakes. I love eating them. I love baking them. I love coming up with different possible flavors on slow days. I miss them every day. I also love sprinkles. And I love the competitiveness of the cupcake world and talking shit about “designer cupcakes”. How silly life has gotten when you’re gossiping about the other cupcake shops, and also how entertainingly wonderful.
• According to Peace Corps-DR I’m one of the healthier people here. Take that Jackson Hole OB/GYN.
• Anticipation is a gloriously painful feeling, but ever so rewarding in the end.
• The Northwest String Summit is the best festival in the world.
• I love hula hoops.
• I wish as a small child, grade school say, that I had had the opportunity to learn a foreign language. This is not the fault of my parents, for schools don’t offer foreign language with any degree of learning until high school unless you want to pay through the nose for private school, and frankly we couldn’t afford it. I don’t know if the school systems assume that young brains can’t learn it, but young brains are the only ones who can. I sit here immersed in another language at the age of 25 and my rate for picking it up is intangibly slow, and I’m embarrassed because while the school system here leaves something to be desired, they are still ambitious enough to require English AND French for their high school students. And speaking of this Spanish speaking country I’m in, what is it now, like half of the U.S. is Spanish speaking. Why shouldn’t we learn it? They all learn English, and for anyone who thinks they damn well should, well keep in mind, there are far more jobs at home and the world over that would rather hire someone bi-lingual than not.
• I just plain don’t get racism. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I’ve witnessed it now in a few different countries, but with intensity in two, and honestly, what’s the point? It doesn’t make you a better person to hate, especially based on something so superficial.
• I don’t know where we get the name Christopher Colombus. His name was Cristofer Colon. Colon! We can pronounce that in English! Colombus was WAY off. And I know, because this is where he landed. On another note, I hope someone else is as astonished as I was that for the entire landmass of the Western Hemisphere he managed to land on a tiny little Island in the middle of more water…and think it was India.
• Parents (not just mine, parents in general) imagine if your kids were only in school from 8-noon everyday. Would you rip your hair out or what?
• There are these great things in the Dominican Republic that you don’t find a lot of in the U.S. anymore and I love it. They’re called neighbors. They come over to talk, they watch your kids, they keep an eye on your house when you’re gone, they share their dinner, they yell at you to let you know the lights or water have been turned back on, they tell you what the girl around the corner has been doing. When did we stop trusting people in America?
• Housewifery/Stay-at-home mommery is a thankless job everywhere on earth I think. Sarah, you’re doing an awesome job.
• We’re already planning our 10 year Peace Corps reunion before we’ve even started our full two years here. I think I have some best friends for life.
• My life goal is to work for Sesame Street.
• With all its flaws, the social service welfare system in the U.S. is an amazing and beautiful thing. Believe me.
• I feel lucky to have been given the hand I was dealt. There is no reason in my belief, metaphysical or otherwise, that I was born into and lived such a life without serious hardship.

2009 has been one of the best years of my life, thank god since 2008 was probably one of the worst. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses, I lost some friendships, others soured for reasons I do and don’t understand. But I’ve gained a lot this year. I’ve learned a lot about myself and others. I’ve become pretty confident in who I am as a person, and I’ve gained countless friendships that will stand the test of time if for no other reason than we share a bond of throwing ourselves into another culture and place all for the purpose of doing something that feels right. The Peace Corps journey has just begun, and I hope you stick with me for it, it’s certain to be quite a story. (And I still really hate mosquitoes).

2009-11-16T06:15:00.000-08:00

-I went spearfishing. Well, I didn’t do the spearing just the snorkeling but I watched the spearfishing taking place. I also saw a shark and almost had a heart attack. It may have been a baby shark but I thought it was large and scary looking and my frightened mind is absolutely willing to exaggerate. We only speared four fish, and by “we” I mean the person I was fishing with. The snorkeling was awesome though, all that stuff you see in Finding Nemo, yeah, it’s real.

-I was proposed marriage four times in one day. This may seem funny, but it’s really pretty disgusting the way these men go about it, and one of them was offered as a business proposition—with benefits. This same day I was asked by a Dutch tourist if I was here because I was married to a Dominican. Apparently I exude matrimony.

-I’m getting REALLY good at dominoes, at least by American standards (it’s like the national sport here, I regularly get beat by a nine year old). I’ve played every day since I’ve been here and I’m finally starting to win some, and not even out of pity.

-I went to the equivalent of a PTA meeting the other day that I was entirely unprepared for (jeans and a wifebeater unprepared) and lasted three hours. THREE HOURS. The regular school day is four hours and the meeting was three hours. Interestingly the subject was interfamily violence, and then about a half hour later I heard someone hitting their kid. Hmm.

-I need to practice my bachata, it seems as though I have no rhythm.

-I eat halls cough drops like candy. I actually don’t mean that figuratively like “I’ve had a cold so I eat halls like candy.” We literally eat them as though they were candy.

-There’s this telenovela on Telemundo called Niños Ricos Pobres Padres that’s about a group of prep school students who have love affairs with one another and what not. The catch? Pretty much all of the actors are at least in their late twenties, early thirties, and it’s obvious. And they’re playing high school students. Good news Zac Efron (and better news for you Rachel) you can play a high school senior for at least 10 or 15 more years.

-I live about a mile from a mangrove forest. These mangroves kick the ass of Florida’s mangroves and here’s why: There are no alligators, crocodiles, or snakes; contrary to logic they’re really clean; the water is crystal clear and absolutely swimmable. Take that, everglades.

-For those of you who don’t know, I grew up playing softball. Just because I grew up this way by no means signifies that I was any good. I also haven’t played more than a handful of times in probably ten or so years. But, by virtue of knowing how to play, I’m considered amazing at softball here. The DR is going to be really good for my self esteem I think.

-I’m getting used to and/or starting to enjoy: sugar with a side of coffee, riding on the back of a motorcycle (with one other person, when it’s more it’s still incomodo), everything about plaintains (it took me a solid minute to think of the English word), conducting my daily life in Spanish (though I’m still what some might call really rusty), ham and cheese sandwiches for breakfast.

Is this Heaven? No, it's America.

2009-10-30T08:23:00.000-07:00

So we officially swore in as volunteers on Wednesday afternoon. We took the same oath that presidents take to swear to protect our land though we're not currently there. Then we celebrated yesterday by going to America. That's right, embassy perks. Not only can you throw the toilet paper in the bowl there, you have to. You can also get donuts, and bread, and bacon. Oh damn.

So now we're in the club. I'm getting ready to go back to my site as we speak which really is a beautiful beach. This week we're going to see the manatees, and we might go snorkeling. I swear to god I'm in the Peace Corps. I unfortunately have to cut this short because I have to go catch a two hour bus, to another two hour bus, to a 45 minute motorcycle ride, and then I have to go to sleep because I'm exhausted.

I actually have the ability to put pictures on here so I'll leave you with this: my new home.

La Capital and Beyond

2009-10-18T13:33:00.000-07:00

Well, we finally wrapped up our community based training with a basketball tournament and a very tearful goodbye. I mention the basketball tournament not because I played but because Spring and I were talking to some kids and they asked if we were sisters. When we said no, they said ´but you look so much alike!´ Now, for those of you who don´t know Spring, she´s half japanese.

As for the despedida (going away party) it was a very tearful goodbye to all of our families. In fact, I think all of us were caught off guard about just how sad we really were to go. If it´s this hard after five weeks, what´s it going to be like after two years?

So, yesterday we packed up our belongings in the bus, stopped at the dominican equivolent of a really nice truck stop (with really tourist prices, 40 pesos for a coke? robbery.) and made it back to the capital. It´s HOT here. Like sweating when you´re sitting still hot. Where the bucket showers aren´t even cold it´s so hot. But, thankfully we´ll be moving to our sites on Tuesday afternoon and only have one more week back here. My initial anxiety of not having a youth volunteer anywhere near me was abated last night at the carwash (yes, it´s really a carwash, and it´s also a bar. it is the place to party here) when I found out that 4 health volunteers, 2 CED volunteers, and few water volunteers will all be relatively near me. So now it´s time to pack again and move to the permanent home. I´m not really sure what internet access is in store for me so this may well be the last blog post for a while. But don´t fret, I´ll still report all the dirty, sweaty, and sunny details every chance I get.

vaya con dios.

Roundin' the Bend

2009-10-10T14:36:00.000-07:00

Oh dear readers, I must apologize. For it has been far too long since I've written in here. I almost feel like I have nothing to report which is sort of a good thing because it means I'm getting more used to my life here. But then I realize that the things that I see and do and that happen to me are probably really strange and entertaining to all of you not enjoying every moment of the DR. So I guess this week I'll just give you some tidbits...

-Another church story: Dean fell asleep during mass last week for like twenty minutes. He had his hands crossed and his head down so it looked like he was in deep prayer. I had to kick him to wake him up. Also the leader of our youth group was wearing a tuxedo t-shirt under the full impression that it made him look dressed up. Serious.

-I'm forgetting certain english words and have fully entered a new phase in my language that I like to call Spanglish. Think you've heard of it? Just wait until you hear all of us talk.

-We had four current volunteers come and talk to us about dating and relationships in the DR. Two of them were a married couple who came in married so it was a little strange to have them (though they're great people). And the other two gave us some of the most random off the wall advice. For example: be careful dudes, if you ask her to stay the night, you're married.

-Some of the most important news: I found out where I'll be living for the next two years. It's a campo of 500 people and it's apparently beautiful. That's all I'll say for now, I don't want to jinx it.

-I still hate cockroaches, and I will still murder them.

-As the weather gets colder, the bucket showers get colder.

-I never realized how much I love: corn flakes, mashed potatoes, eggs, and american candy.

-I have a new profound love for plaintains. They're so versatile! I freaking love everything about them. I hope we're having tostones tonight for dinner.

-We showed a movie for a fundraiser and let me tell you how it went: After serious techincal difficulties and four different movies not working in the player, we finally got The Polar Express to work. So we're watching, (and I'll tell this assuming that you're all familiar with the story) and at the point where the train reaches the North Pole all the kids (about 80 of them) start screaming and cheering and then they promptly left. Before Santa Claus, before the bell, before they even got off of the train. It was weird. But we raised a lot of dough.

-Kenny, Kerri and I climbed up the big loma behind our barrio. It was beautiful, you could see the whole city, but man we're out of shape.

Finally, we only have one more week here in beautiful Constanza. It's bitter sweet really. This town is great but we're all really ready to swear in, get to our sites, and actually start being volunteers. I'll try not to be so boring next time. Til later...

Adventures in Catholicism

2009-09-27T14:39:00.000-07:00

So the title really isn't a joke. I've been to mass more in the past few weeks than I think I've ever been to church in my entire life. But, before you feel sorry for me, don't. I actually kind of enjoy mass. There. I said it. I like going to church. Sort of. Part of it could be that I get to sit with two good friends and that I don't really understand a lot of what's going on (not because of God, because of Spanish). But I also like hugs, and this is a hugging culture--especially at mass. It's also really the only solid routine I have here. Sure we have classes monday through friday in everything under the sun, and we can always count on too much food at lunch (if not every meal), but mass is the same every week and that I really like.

In addition to my mass hugs this week we also had a trainee lovefest up the loma. Get your mind out of the gutter, the love fest was fully clothed--in fact, extra clothed because the nights have been getting colder. At least we think the nights have been getting colder, either that or we are becoming bigger wusses.

Other random things that have taken place this week:
-I actually went to mass twice this week because we find ourselves in the middle of Patronales, the holiday to celebrate the Virgen de la Mercedes. It's major here. And apparently every pueblo has a patron saint so every pueblo has a different patronles week. Patronales tour sponsored by Presidente anyone?

-I tried chicken foot. Unfortunately it wasn't rooster foot. It doesn't taste that bad but I couldn't get over the texture--it's like eating baby fingers.

-Our youth group, trying to evade us because it's Patronales week, snuck out the side door at church last night so we didn't see them. That is until another one of our youth took us to their house. Not very pious of you youth.

-I slid down a fire pole.

-Shitty elementary school style cafeteria pizza tastes AWESOME when it's been over a month since you've had pizza.

-Jumping off of rocks into icy cold water at the base of an incredible waterfall is always a good idea.

Sorry the blog is kind of thin this week. I'll try harder next time. Maybe.

I'm about to get Murderous on some Roosters.

2009-09-20T13:59:00.001-07:00

I would like to out a falsity in American cinema. In all of those folksy charming movies about the farm, every morning when Pa Joe gets up to till the soil, he is awakened by the sound of his faithful rooster cock a doodle doing at the crack of dawn to let him know that his day has started. This one time deal signifies a new day and Mr. Rooster goes to bed until tomorrow morning at sunrise.

This, is a crock.

It is absolutely not true. Don't get me wrong, the roosters DO crow at dawn. But not just once, more like 8 times. And then again at breakfast. At least twice during the hour of 9, 10, 11, 12...you get the idea. They also crow when they damn well feel like it, when no one is paying them any attention, and when they feel like fertilizing those eggs (which I have twice witnessed in one week). I rather officially HATE roosters.

Other than that, Constanza is great. I got my toes painted Dominican style yesterday so they are now a pattern of yellow, black, and silver glitter. Be jealous.

Andrew, Dean, and I go to Catholic mass once a week to meet with our youth group. I actually kind of like going to mass. Even when Andrew gives me the most terrible church giggles to the point that we both have to silently wipe tears from our eyes and all the Dominicans think that we are certainly the most pious of beings.

We find out in just under two weeks where we're going (sans too many details) and hearts are seriously aflutter at the prospect of your homes for the next two years.

One of these days I'll post pictures, especially so you can see my fabulous toes.

New Family, Same Friends

2009-09-13T15:07:00.000-07:00

Well, this journey is beginning to get more technical and our group has gotten immensely smaller. Don't worry, only three people that we know have have gone home so far out of our group of 51 (don't judge, everyone has their reasons), but four days ago we moved into our Community Based Training sites by sector.

Thus, on Thursday we moved here to Constanza in the mountains of the DR, and let me tell you: this place is GREAT. The weather is temperate. I have to sleep with a blanket at night (which sounds normal, but it's a first here). The mountains are huge believe it or not. We're also getting into the actual technical aspect of training--which means we're learning more about what we'll actually be doing for the next two years. In our sector it meant meeting our youth groups and planning events with the youth (which in this culture means up to 30).

So getting to the hilarious part of the week was when Andrew, Dean, and I met our youth group for the first time last night. We actually have what in the states would be considered a legit youth group, as in one that meets after church. Catholic Church. Latino Catholic Church. So, we go to the service only to discover that we are also attending a wedding. A Catholic wedding. A Latino Catholic wedding. Our youth group had told us that mass might run long because it was a special mass, but they failed to mention that the special was because two people that we have never met were in fact getting married. So, the three of us attended our first Dominican wedding. All the while, we were missing a dance party at my house, but oh well, we got to accidentally go to a wedding.

Later at our meeting the kids asked us if we could teach them english and we obliged. The first phrase they wanted to learn "what it is." Now, for you young folk like me, please supress your laughter long enough to explain "what it is" is to my parents, and yours. And this is what dominican kids want to learn.

Finally, some good news for the next five weeks. While we're in Constanza the 16 of us live within a stone's throw of each other and we have free internet access. I probably still won't be on much, but I'll try to keep up better with the blog while we're here.

Cuidate.

Learning from the Batey

2009-09-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

First off I need to give a shout out to Jacob's mom. Thanks for reading! I think you and my mom would get along, she's straight Oregonian.

As for the title, this past weekend I visited a Batey. For those of you who aren't up on your Dominican history (not that I was before I got here, so don't worry) a Batey is a migrant village of Haitian sugar cane harvesters. These small villages date back several decades (don't quote me on time structure) and used to be used solely for the cane season. These days, and for the past few decades, the Bateyes have been year round villages. Since the inception, Bateyes have been some of the most abject poverty in this country, and still are. The Batey I visited hasn't cut cane in around two to three years--thus, nobody really works.

I wish I had pictures to convey to you the disparity in wealth between Bateyes and other communities in this country, or even your own community at home. But for the entire four days I was there I felt inappropriate taking pictures as though I was some campy tourist documenting another persons despair to show off to my friends to say "Look what a good person I am. I visited these people." As you can probably gather from that statement, the Batey was eye opening and life changing. These people have next to nothing. Haitians are second and sometimes third class citizens. Even though many generations may have been born in the Dominican Republic they still identify as Haitians...Haitians with no homeland. Many don't want to go back because Haiti is rife with more problems than they even have living here. Hunger is rampant, and I am exhausted.

But, there is hope.

Brianna, the volunteer I visited is amazing. She is clearly and unconditionally loved by her community. Even though she has problems with people not showing up to planned meetings or activities, there are people young and old who learn from her every day and obviously want a better life for themselves. She works with teenage boys and girls in the areas of health and some english, though in a very informal setting. She works with young mothers helping them to finish something we all take so for granted: the 8th grade. We celebrated her 23rd birthday yesterday and even though I have a couple years on her, she is so much stronger than I could ever hope to be. She finds hope in the hopeless, and stays strong even with the amount of dame (give me) going on. There are organizations that roll through that we here in the Peace Corps have dubbed "charity tourists" people whose heart is in the right place, but their resources aren't. Poor people aren't victims, and they aren't helped by straight handouts--don't worry, I'm not getting all conservative on you guys, but in a community such as this, when people come in and give give give, the work ethic goes goes goes. For generations people have waited for the dame rather than finding happiness. Brianna is helping people learn so they can make better lives for themselves. As Peace Corps volunteers we're trained to give motivation and sustainability rather than material things--part of this is because we're pretty darn poor too, but also because we're only here for two years, and hopefully people will live for decades beyond our leaving. They don't need handouts, they need development.

On a lighter note, the half hour ride on the back of a motorcycle (with helmet!!!) was frightening but I lived. And yeseterday we celebrated Brianna's birthday at La Playa Juandolio which is beautiful, but now, I'm beautifully red.

We head to community based training this week in another part of the country, and word on the street is that internet access is even better than here. I'll believe it when I see it, but I'll be sure to send updates from the "cold" part of the country, and hopefully post more pics!

Guaguas, Cucarachas, and the new director of Peace Corps

2009-09-01T14:29:00.000-07:00

Hola! We're well into week two and I'm starting to fall in love with my new home--although certain challenges still face me from time to time. My spanish is improving un poquito, and riding public transit is getting easier. But that said, I think I should enlighten all of you to the delights of the guagua.

A guagua is one of the most popular forms of public transportation in this country. It's bigger than a mini van but smaller than the short bus and it can hold a whole lot of people. My first guagua ride was last week and we had approximately 54 people packed into this thing including the drive, the cobrador (money taker) and three people hanging off of the outside. In short I would like to give you a description of the situation. I understand most of you won't know the people I'm talking about but you'll certainly hear more about them later. So: 20 or so people are sitting in the five rows of seats, about seven or eight of these are volunteers, then it starts to get tricky. Phil and Alaina are sharing one seat (this is common), Shannon is sitting on Phil's lap, I am leaning into/on Shannon, Justin is standing/leaning back to back with me, Eva is sitting/laying on my butt/back, I have my left arm around Jose and my right arm braced on the headrest behind Phil, my right leg is not on the ground but wrapped somewhat snuggly around Eva's left leg, Meg is behind me to the right also standing on one foot, Eli (or Dean, I'm not sure I remember) is standing in the stairwell surrounded by volunteer armpits, I lose track of where everyone else was but there were about twenty more people beyond this. When asked, Dominicans said that this situation is pretty normal with the exception of our hysterical laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Cucarachas. I do not like Cucarachas. My Doña does not like Cucarachas. But cucarachas tend to like us, or at least my bathroom. The other night we found three dead and two still alive in my bathroom but Doña went in and ruthlessly slaughtered them because she is the best Doña ever (sorry PETA members) and it´s true, she really is the best Doña ever, everyone in the barrio thinks so.

Finally, we had the incredible opportunity to meet the brand new last week Peace Corps Director appointed by none other than Barry Obama. The new director, Aaron Williams was a volunteer here in the DR in the 1960's and decided to make this his first spot. Thus we were the first traning class to meet the new director. He's a great speaker and has had an awesome life, you should go to the Peace Corps website and look him up. So I will leave you with a photo of his visit...which ended up at the top of the post. (Also in the photo from left to right are: Jacob from Portland as well, Amy from Maine, and Peter from Chicago).

Adio!

2 year of college spanish may have been a joke.

2009-08-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

Hola de La Republica Dominicana!

As my blog title denotes, I know approximately zero spanish. This is something I was not aware of until my first night in my home stay with Doña Tata and Don Mariano. They would ask me the simplest questions to which I would give the "dumb look" and smile and they would laugh and Mariano said "Ella no sabe español." And though I understood that he just said "she doesn't know any spanish" I'd have to agree with him. My thoughts on this are that the sheltered world of American High School and College language classes are just shy of being a joke since all of my profesoras spoke slowly enough for me to get it. Consequently, when you're not a Spanish teacher, you don't speak slowly to the lost looking American girl.

On a lighter note, I've only been with my traning class for a few days now and they are ALL my new best friends (sorry old best friends, but we only have each other). Everyone is so nice and motivated, and seemingly just as overwhelmed and probably scared shitless as I am. I'm not scared of anything except for not improving my Spanish and thus being worthless here. Also, the Dominican accent is HARD to understand. Imagine never using an 's' in the English language. Ever. Even when said s is in the middle of the word. or at the front of the word. Or at the back of the word.

So as to not make this too long and boring for you dear readers, I would like to impart to you somethings I have taken for granted in my life that I'm sure most of you have too (with the exception of my fellow PCT's):
1) The action of Flushing. Yes, flushing. Sometimes the toilet flushes. Sometimes it doesn't. And of course when it doesn't, it's usually after a numero dos. Sorry to gross you out dear American readers, but I don't anticipate this to be my last entry about number 2's.
2) On the same note, showers. Don't get me wrong, I actually "shower" more here than I did in the states, but to shower is to take a recepticle (bigger than a glass, smaller than a bucket) full of cold water and dump it down your body starting at your hair. Then you soap. Then you do the water again. Then you're done. Don't feel too bad for me, the cold water actually feels AWESOME in the humidity.
3) Google. I miss google. A lot. When I look up words in my dictionary, I often wish I could then Google the English word if only for appropriate context. I also miss the babelfish instant translator, as inaccurate as it may have been.
4) Electricity. We have electricity in all of our homestays here in Pantoja (north of la capital) but that by no means means that it's reliable. "Se fue la luz" was one of our first learned phrases and it wouldn't matter if it didn't mean that the fans also turn off--and we NEED the fans.

The good news is that we came here during the hottest most humid time of year, and yes that is good news because it means that it will get better. And hopefully my Spanish will get better. Well, it has to get better. And finally, I have kept strong so far, I have not cried yet. I will, but I haven't yet. Although my arms really hurt because the ruthless (though funny and nice) nurse is sticking us with various vaccines every other day.

If you're in the states, I miss you all terribly. If you are here, I'll see you in the morning.

Up, up, and away

2009-08-18T05:50:00.001-07:00

Tuesday morning. 5:50am. Headed to the airport................now.

I'm going to Bananaland and I'm taking with me Bananagrams

2009-08-15T22:56:00.000-07:00

My apologies. A friend asked me when I was leaving for Bananaland in a fantastically dry and serious tone and it made me giggle. A lot.

So. Where to begin. It is currently Saturday night and all final preparations are pretty much done. Said goodbye to the greater family this afternoon/evening. Bit the bullet and put two movies on my two by two ipod screen even though I always swore up and down that it's just too damn small to watch movies on--I figured during bouts of serious blues nothing cheers me up better than Muppets from Space. Serious. For all of you other trainees and volunteers whom I will meet this week, yes, I'm that huge of a nerd. The Electric Mayhem practicing a Polska for a Bar Mitzvah--for a muppet--can pull me out of the deepest funk. Packing is all but done (scissors! tampons! earplugs!) and I'm clocked in at a cool 73 pounds between my hiker and a flourescent green rolling duffel. And Lucy (the cat, not the baby) is doing her part by trying to infuse cat hair into the innerworkings of all of my fabrics that have not yet made it into my bags. I shut off my cellphone, ate my last (sigh) cupcake, and finished Amanda's baby blanket just in the knick of time.

So where does this leave my emotional state you ask? Surprisingly calm. I won't lie, I teared up more than once today with the myriad goodbyes I said, but not out of devastation. Mostly out of the awe of how different life will be for everyone two years and three months from now. I'm not sad or scared that I'll be somehow missing out on everyone's life here because I'm so ready to go and live my own. This adventure so terribly excites me and the anticipation is agonizing, but I'm so so ready. I will certainly miss my family, and my beautiful friends (and dare I say Trouble the cat) but since I started making noise about applying all the way up until this moment I've received nothing but support from all of you (except you Trouble) and for that I am so thankful.

So with that, I leave you with a photo of the one person that I'm having a really hard time saying goodbye to: Lucy (the baby, not the cat):

To Infinity and Beyond (with apologies to Disney/Pixar)

2009-08-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

The gravity of this situation has finally arrived. I saw Beth off today at the airport for her adventure in Japan. It was probably one of the hardest goodbyes to have to say because we've helped each other so much through this living abroad process. Lucky for us, both countries have post offices, albeit not as reliable as the good ole USPS.

It was also a difficult goodbye because upon leaving the airport and paying my short term parking stub I realized that I have approximately 17 days to say goodbye to this life and start the next. So alas, I start packing and trying to at least study some spanish before arriving in DC in two and a half short weeks.

This adventure is going to be crazy educational son.

Conspiring to conspire...or aspire

2009-07-02T00:14:00.000-07:00

So the best part of the whole Peace Corps invitation is that you're paper work isn't even close to done yet. Awesome. Also, I had to pull off a feat that I really haven't since college: writing an aspiration statement (I actually did have to do this sort of back in college). So, in order to help out everyone (like me) who googles the words "peace+corps+aspiration+statement" here's mine (don't feel obligated).

Aspiration Statement

Samantha Dillman

Dominican Republic

August 18, 2009

Expectations

No one said life was supposed to be a cake walk. I expect that my service in the Peace Corps will be one of the most trying and rewarding experiences in my life. I have been looking forward to this service for years but I’ve never looked at it through strictly rose colored glasses. I expect that learning a new language, adapting to a new culture, and being—for the longest time of my life—in the extreme minority will at times test my faith in humanity and in my self confidence. However, I also expect to find rewards I never expected through becoming fluent in my second language, meeting people from a culture far from my own who can teach me what living means, and gain perspective on the global story, not just the American story or the Peace Corps story. I expect to experience pain and pleasure, happiness and frustration, tears of sadness and tears of joy. I’m not just volunteering my time, but my whole self.

As a Youth Development Promoter I expect to be working with children and young adults to foster an environment of education and recreation. I expect to teach youth skills that will help them throughout their lives whether that education is formal or experiential (i.e. information technology, home economics, crafts, sports, or English language learning). Life skills learning is often forgotten as an important subject in comparison to reading and mathematics, thus I expect to help youth to learn proficiency in all aspects of what will make them productive and learned adults.

Strategies and Adaptability

As a Peace Corps volunteer I plan to pull in many aspects of my personal and professional life to fulfill my duties and serve my host country. I think the most important professional skill that I will bring to the Dominican Republic is the ability to motivate and self start with limited resources and instructions. I have experience in non-profit and fundraising in an arena where there were no instructions, and I had to come up with the business plan, the game plan, and the process on my own. Additionally, I have years of experience working with youth of all ages and socio-economic backgrounds teaching, coaching, and lending an ear for stories and a shoulder to cry on.

In order to work effectively with host country partners I think it is important to have great flexibility, adaptability, and communication. I enter this assignment with tremendous respect for the people I will be working with and who have come before me in this process. No one knows the Dominican Republic like the host country partners and nationals, and the first step in this process is listening and observing. Further, communicating my ideas for moving forward and remaining open and flexible to changes in idea will hopefully foster an open environment for the exchange of information and mutual respect.

In addition to gaining a fluency in Spanish I hope from pre-service training to gain perspective on what Dominican youth face. There is only so much one can read in history books and news stories, and these just don’t speak to the individual human experience. Thus, from training I hope to realize the unique challenges of growing up in the Dominican Republic and help foster a safe, enjoyable, and productive environment for all youth from all backgrounds and experiences.

Professional Goals

I have always been interested in foreign diplomacy as well as the difficulty children face throughout the world. From this experience I hope to gain insight into the plight of youth throughout different regions of the world—not just the United States—and apply that knowledge to helping foster an attitude that children deserve childhood as well as education to become contributing adults. I think all too often, adults forget that they were once youth and whether or not they had an “ideal” childhood doesn’t mean they didn’t want one, and certainly doesn’t mean they didn’t deserve one. Kids grow up so fast in this world of war and politics that the adults they become often lose sight of what being a child means. Additionally, education is not inherent, but is essential and the more educated people are the more peace can and will spread. I plan to take the skills I gain in the Peace Corps as a Youth Development Promoter to the world at large (including the U.S.) and teach, travel, and foster. It would be my ultimate goal to work with an international NGO that serves children such as UNICEF or Sesame Workshop.

La Republica Dominicana

2009-06-26T19:04:00.000-07:00

is spanish for: The Dominican Republic!

It finally came, it's finally here, the time is upon us!

I leave for this wondefully exciting adventure on August 18th and aside from personal email (samanthadillman@gmail.com) this will be my main form of communication for the following 27 months. I will be working in youth development and living on half an island. Yes, just half.

More updates soon!

I live to serve

2009-06-22T13:01:00.000-07:00

I just got off the phone with my placement officer, and while I still don't know the exact date and destination, I'm officially a Peace Corps Invitee headed for Latin America or the Caribbean. It's officially official, no more maybes.

Woot!

Now if only the fedex guy was superman and then life would be grand.

waitng, and waiting, and waiting,

2009-06-11T09:37:00.000-07:00

and waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

I've been rather obsessively checking my mail box, email box, and phone for the past couple weeks just waiting for the news of where and when I'm going. Soooo, I emailed the assistant to my placement officer only to hear news today that it should only be 2-3 more weeks of waiting...probably.

In fairness, when I was first nominated back in April, my recruiter said it would probably be the end of June, which is just about two and a half weeks away.

So I'm being patient. Or at least trying to be.

Where it all begins...

2009-05-26T16:14:00.000-07:00

I had this great idea when I was 16 that I would one day join the Peace Corps. About three months ago I got a wild hair (hare?) and applied. Today I checked my mailbox to find I had been medically cleared for service--I'm in.

As of today I still don't know where I'm going, but I have a general idea of when (august) and once I know these things this blog will become infinitely more interesting as I don't have much to report as yet.

And although I don't yet know where I'll go, I've read some fantastically inspirational stories about spending two years shitting in a hole in the ground, trying to avoid offending the village by swallowing everything from a cow's tongue to his testicles (I've heard both are salty), and the almost guarantee that I will get malaria, or some other infectiously fun malady. So bear with me folks, here we go...