Of Hills and Shades of Green

I am really glad that I chose the Spanish teacher that I did! M is really wonderful. She constantly involves me in activities in the community and her life, which is awesome. Plus my Spanish is rapidly improving.

She invited me over on Sunday her first week of teaching—for what I understood to be dinner, but turned out to be lunch. So it was actually lucky that it rained that day, and I didn’t go hiking like I had originally planned! Her brother shows up at my house, minutes before I’m about to sit down with the food my host mom has prepared. “Are you ready?” He asks, to which I offer up only a confused stare. Five minutes later, I am grabbing my keys and purse, running out the door, and muttering an apology to my host mom. She asks me if I just didn’t understand, and I respond, “I don’t understand ANYTHING!” She laughs and tells me she’ll put my meal in the fridge and I can have it for dinner. This is actually great news for me, since lunch tends to be the more delicious meal of the day. Dinner is usually boring mashed potatoes with cheese or egg on top.

So I make it to M’s house, where she apparently lives with her parents. She has her own apartment, but because her kids are out of the house (one in college, one in school in the States), she finds she can save more money this way. She is cooking a nice meal for us, and after eating, we just sit around and chat for a while. She has told me that today’s Spanish is a bonus class, and it is really fun just to sit around and talk about our lives, in a less formal way. It turns out her daughter lives with another relative in Lancaster! I explain that this is actually pretty close to my family!

Monday I printed out the first copies of the accounting sheets I’ve been working on for the Savings and Loans groups. Then I went out to the batays outside of Seibo to meet with the local coordinators, N & F. I showed them the work that I’d done, and asked for any suggestions from them. Then we met with one of N’s groups. It was weird because it was dark by the time we met. The town doesn’t have much lighting, so we were using solar lamps, but just stand-alone ones. N and her groups really don’t understand the accounting system that well, so they will require the most work.

The rest of the week and into the next I just spent making the changes to the system that N., F., and I talked about. Then I also made a worksheet so I could finish and audit of the groups, to make sure they were all where they needed to be. This probably took more time than necessary because I am a perfectionist, but it worked out.

F’s group seems to be doing well. I easily found minor mistakes that they’d made and highlighted these. Their total cash matched up (almost) with their balance in the accounting system.

N’s groups’ accounting, on the other hand, are everywhere. Luckily, they are only doing savings at this point, so there’s no reason that they shouldn’t be perfectly correct. I don’t think N understands accounting very well, and this is why she wasn’t able to explain it sufficiently to the groups. I am hoping the changes I’ve made, however, make everything more straightforward. In the next (now 2) months, I will concentrate training the coordinators, and developing a good manual for further training.

I also spent some of my time just walking around Seibo. It is quite hilly. Oddly enough, the main road that travels east across the north side of the town, and then curves dramatically to go south through the center of town, is actually quite even. It slopes down and up gently. But all of the other side roads travel up for a block, then down; up again, then down. It can be quite tiring, but at least it’s a good workout!

View of Seibo from my Supervisor's House

More views of El Siebo

Saturday, my Spanish teacher, M, invited me to run errands with her—essentially an interactive class! We stopped in the pharmacy, by the phone company to pay her monthly bill, paused to get her shoes cleaned, then walked down to the river just south of Seibo. It was very overcast, but we took some pictures for fun.

My teacher, in front of Seibo River

Then we went up to the Fish Shop that is just off the river. I learned that in the DR, saltwater is called the same, but freshwater is called “sweet” water! I thought that was cool. There were also turtles swimming around under the sink, which apparently some people eat. We watched the owner of the shop clean and cut up the fish for M. The fish was scaled using a simple contraption of metal soda tops that were attached to a short wooden stick.

Then M bought some coconuts, and said that the next day, she would fix me fish in a coconut sauce. If that sounds delicious, that’s because it was! We had another day of a delicious meal and time to chat. In the afternoon, I headed out to the batays. I was meeting with Franklin’s group for a final review of the accounting sheets. I’d made some changes, and wanted to double-check with the actual group that I’d done what they thought was necessary to improve everything.

Throughout the week, I kept working on the accounting sheets. And I took a few more opportunities to walk around Seibo. It’s really quite beautiful. Plus I came across, a New Orleans-style cemetery, which was pretty cool.

Carnival and Adventures in the countryside

February 27 is the Dominican Republic’s independence day. Interestingly, this the date of independence NOT from Spain, but from their neighbor, Haiti.

Haiti, of course, is the site of the most successful slave revolt in history, and became an independent nation in 1804. Dominicans declared independence from Spain in 1821, but two months later, the entire island was united under Haitian rule. Dominicans were not to fond of this move, and fought for their own rule in the Dominican Independence War, finally declaring independence in 1844. (Followed by a brief time that one Dominican politician actually attempted to have Spain come back to be the colonial power)

The history of Haitian-Dominican relations is very fraught. I honestly don’t know much about them, except what I’ve picked up the last few weeks. Dominicans consider the occupation from 1821-1844 by Haiti as offensive. Haiti, however, has remained a much poor nation, and many citizens have sought work in the DR. There is a lot of animosity. The Dominican dictator, Trujillo, order a massacre of Haitians. Haitians are typically much darker than Dominicans, usually being approximately the shade of Africans, while Dominicans are shades of mixed to almost white. According to the stories, Trujillo’s soldiers interrogated all of the dark-skinned individuals they found near the border, and asked them to say perijil. Haitians have a hard time rolling the r’s (more accustomed to the French way of pronouncing r’s), and so those that failed were slaughtered with machetes.

But, recently someone was lecturing me on how this one time (I’m not sure if this was recent or in history) a Haitian stomped on the Dominican flag, so I guess it’s all justified. /sarcasm

Even today, however, Haitians continue to seek out opportunities in the DR. Almost all of the sugarcane workers are Haitian, often here on temporary visas, or descendents of immigrants. There has recently been a crackdown on undocumented workers.

So under these circumstances, the celebration of Independence included such highlights as school-children reenacting the battle for independence by the lighter-skinned students appearing to fight the darker ones (wearing Haitian military garb), and then one student stomping on a paper version of the Haitian flag. Then later, I saw a group of children in black(er) face. So… all that was very awkward.

It’s amazing how alive and well racism and discrimination are in every part of the globe. And everyone considers their specific racist leanings justified for whatever reason.

Most of the day’s celebrations, however, focused on Dominican pride (rather than racism disguised as nationalism). In the morning, there was a parade of all the school children in the area.

M (my Spanish teacher) invited me, which I thought would simply be watching the parade from the sidelines. Sleeping through my alarm, I hastily dressed (forgetting my little jacket to cover up my scandalously exposed shoulders. Arriving at the space beside the governors mansion, I find M on the steps with the governor, alongside other important politicians and school officials. As I hurry up to her, she introduces me to the man in front. “This is the governor!” she proclaims. I sputter a bit, before finally managing to spit out “¡Mucho gusto!” (Good to meet you), and when I shake his hand, I show respect by gripping my elbow—a method used sometimes in Benin and all the time in South Africa, when I was there—instead of doing it the Dominican way, which is to grab your co-shaker’s hand with both hands. I'm just so flustered!

All the sudden I’m standing with (aka trying to hide myself in the back row) the governor as official pictures are taken. And during the parade, I’m in his procession. The parade ends at the church, and there is a short service, in which, only the most important people (myself included, apparently) take part. I felt so awkward being thrown into this group. I'm not an important person! I voice this thought to M, who laughs and says that I am here as her "Special Guest".

Picture of the governor (in Green) during the ceremony

Afterwards, there is a presentation of all of the schools. For the entirety of this, I sit beside M, up on stage, across from the governor. The performances of each of the schools is pretty cool. A lot of them include merengue/bachata dances. Some are chants, or some interpretive dances.

One of the most interesting involved presenting facts about the DR (a priest to represent the national religion in Christianity, a “tourist” to represent the biggest industry is tourism, etc.) This was followed by an interpretative dance and chanting, which apparently brought M to tears, it was so patriotic.

These demonstrations were followed by the performances of the color guard of the various high schools, which I thought was pretty cool. So many Dominican flags!

After this was finished, I went home for lunch. Then I went to M’s house. She had to complete some school-related work, so I went to the parade myself. It was kind of a Mardi Gras/Halloween combo. In fact, people here don’t celebrate Mardi Gras (called Carnival in Spanish-speaking nations), but celebrate “Carnival” on their Independence Day. I guess it makes sense, because so much celebrating in one month might be too much.

Some of the costumes

Everyone was positioned out on the street; a small huddle of friends standing in a circle, surrounding their bottle of liquor and whatever mixer they decided on (usually rum and OJ). I thought it was funny, the absolute lack of open container laws in existence. The parade—which was supposed to start around 3, but obviously started late—contained various people marching, some floats, and tons of costumes. It was quite a sight, and everyone really seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Dancers in the Parade

One of the floats

A Ferris Wheel Float filled with terrified children

The night would have hypothetically devolved into more revelry (some of the crowd was stationed in the usual spot, which is a open-air bar next to the discoteca), however, I was whisked off by Milagros to her countryside house.

It’s a simple, cement house, with only one room (with two bunkbeds), a bathroom, small kitchen and a porch that wraps ¾ of the way around the house. There is running water, but no electricity, since apparently people would just come and steal the electrical wires (which can be worth a lot of money) and the family would be none the wiser until their next visit. So M brings candles and torches. I also had a little battery for charging through USBs (Thanks Mom!). I think of how much this would have been helpful in Benin, but then I remember that this was not true when I left. When I initially left for Benin, the only thing I had that would charge through a USB was my iPod and speakers (and this is why I didn’t think the solar-panel my mom wanted to get me then would be useful). While I was there, I acquired a Smartphone, and since being home, a tablet, plus a little USB-LED light (again, Thanks Mom!). And of course, the battery-USB-charger I doubt was a thing (or at least an affordable thing) two years ago. My how things have changed, and quickly!

Outside the house was a fire pit, and M told me how much she enjoys cooking over the fire when she is the “campo” (countryside). We swapped stories of campfire foods (I explained camp-cookers). One day she made a traditional soup-ish thing, which was basically a bunch of viveres (plantains, potatoes, yams) and chicken, in a nice tomato sauce.

M, boiling water for some hot chocolate

Saturday we went to the beach, in a town called Miches. There are, of course, many, many beaches in the DR (the country being an island), but this one is the closest. The drive there is stunning. It was a little overcast/foggy while we were going, but you could still see the beautiful green landscape on both sides. The road was often cut into the side of the mountain (or at one point a lonely high point, with a sharp drop on both sides), reminding me of some of the drives my family took when I was younger.

Curve in the road...

View from the drive with the beach in the distance

The beach at Miches isn’t as pristine as one might imagine, since there is a river that spills out into the water in the middle of the beach. The river being brown murks up the crystal blue waters a bit, but regardless the whole area is quite lovely. We walked along the beach for a bit, and came across a mangrove cove. Then we went and got lunch at a street-food-esque place famous for it’s crab (no Old Bay seasoning, though L ). Then we went back to the beach, and sat in a nice open patio. There was music playing too, and M convinced some male acquaintances to dance with me and teach me the merengue and bachata.

Sunday morning, M’s daughter, and nephew showed me this beautiful site, which involves crossing a creek and then walking up a short hill. The view is absolutely gorgeous! It’s amazing to think about how many different shades of green there are to see! Especially considering that living in the Sahel for two years, the most dominant color was brown/red.

I add to the green with my dress!

I made it home in time on Sunday to go to F’s Savings and Loans group, where I am continuing to introduce the improved accounting system.

Wednesday, I went on a “Chocolate Tour”. One of the volunteers stationed northeast of El Seibo works with an organization that puts these on. It is through the group “CONCADO”, which is a cooperative that ensures quality in the organic cocoa of members, as well as fair trade with the buyers. The tour was for a group with World Vision, but I hopped in just to see.

The tour started in the main processing plant, which is just outside El Seibo. Here, groups bring in all of their chocolate. Lesser-quality chocolate goes immediately to the drying process, and then is sold for cosmetic purposes. The better chocolate, however, goes through a 5-day fermenting process.

Cocoa comes wrapped in this kind of white film inside the plants. The seeds are thrown—with this film—into wooden bins. There are three rows, and the seeds start in the top row, before being shoveled down into the lower levels after a period of 24-48 hours. The levels simply give the cocoa beans a chance to be stirred up and aired out, and ferment better. It’s quite an ingenious system! This process is what gives the beans a dark color and a strong taste.

Cocoa plant, freshly cut open

The fermentation system

After this the beans are dried. There are two options for drying. One is natural (laid out on racks in greenhouse-esque structures)—which is the cheaper but longer option—or drying in a machine fueled by fire—which is more expensive, but quicker. The latter option is only used when there is a surplus of beans being brought into the plant, which must be quickly dried.

After being dried, the beans are then bagged and ready to be sold.

The tour of the processing plant ends here, but there is another part in Los Batados (where the PCV is stationed). Here is a women’s group that actually harvests some of the cocoa, AND then takes some of the cocoa to make chocolate products (hot chocolate, bars, etc). They provide a place for groups to dine as well after each tour. So I got to go to this community—which is spectacularly gorgeous—dine on some nice food, see the home-made chocolate process, eat fresh made chocolate, drink cocoa wine, and have a short tour of the nearby cocoa orchard. It was all very lovely!!!

This week my host mom, took me to her (family’s) countryside house. It actually is where her sister and sister’s family live (as opposed to just a vacation home). Her sister does a lot of agriculture things, and A LOT of animal husbandry. She tells me there is a lot of “money” in the countryside (she repeats this a lot while looking at the pigs: pigs can be big money-makers). However, she—my host mom—has no desire to live there. There are pineapples, sour cherries, orange trees, passion fruit trees and the like growing around the house. There are quite a lot of pigs, also chickens and rabbits. In the fields, there is some corn, plus a number of cows, and some horses.

My host mom, picking sour cherries

Me and my host mom

My host mom with her daughter

A tree outside the house

Little piggies

I accidentally/on purpose have mentioned now to multiple people that I want a horse. I think they’re so lovely. AND, PC Volunteers in the DR are actually allowed to own them if they choose!!!!! Ah!! Anyway, my repeated voicing of how much I want a horse, meant that Ermna demanded that her son (who was also kind enough to give us a ride to this house in the first place), saddle up the horse and let me ride. And by that, of course, I mean, I can sit on it while he slowly guides the horse along the path, and Ernma and her daughter gasp if they horse shows any sign of wanting to do more than plod along.

HORSE SELFIE

Regardless, I was quite happy. Of course, I have great visions of galloping along in the countryside of the DR, but at this point it’s been a while since I did any such thing. The horses I rode in South Africa were trained very well to be amenable to any rider and not to break out much. To think that I could completely control a horse left free to gallop along would be foolish, so I very much welcome these opportunities to get be on horses, and get back into being comfortable with them in baby-steps.

Plus, I found in Miches there is a little hotel that offers horseback rides along the beach (at $10 for a few hours), and all I can say is, “YES PLEASE!!!!!!” Plus my Spanish teacher has mentioned the possibility of going to some caves west of El Seibo. You have to take horses out to the entrance of the caves, which is a fine idea, in my opinion.

So that’s basically been my life for the past few weeks: exploring this stunning Caribbean country, learning about its culture and economic activity, and developing materials for the Savings and Loans groups.

Oh, and a sidenote: in the DR, one of the common ways to point out that someone is, say not the best is to call them a “tiguere” (pronounced TEE-ger-ey). It can be used to refer to hoodlums in the street or just someone teasing you. It literally means “tiger” but here it means “smart-ass”. My mom would be proud: I’ve been called a “tiguere” multiple times, mostly by my Spanish teacher. Usually it was when she was simply trying to get me to expand my Spanish, but I came back with a smart-ass remark.