I feel as though I’ve come full circle, almost. I’m back in my bedroom in Doña Maria Antonia’s house in Pantoja, a neighborhood in north Santo Domingo, sweating beneath a weak fan mounted on the wall and getting my things ready for another day at the training center tomorrow morning. I’m here for my weeklong 6-month language training, which lasts until Friday. It’s nice to be back, and to return ‘home’ to a family who already knows me, and to just relax. Tonight a group of 10 community economic development volunteers went to a sushi/Mexican restaurant (who knew such a place existed in this country??) to celebrate our 6-month annivarsary as official Peace Corps volunteers; on a rainy day exactly 6 months ago in November, we swore in and, shortly after, shipped off to our individual sites. Hard to believe we're already a quarter of the way through our service!
So, where to start? Life in Enriquillo, on the rugged, breathtaking southwestern coast of the Dominican Republic, is an adventure. And with each day that passes, I’m appreciating it all more and more. The days are getting unbearably hot however, and I'm nervous about what's going to happen when summer actually arrives; right now, every time I complain about the heat (which is often), whoever I'm talking to kindly reminds me that this is nothing compared to July and August. Honestly, I can't imagine. Fortunately I have a fan (and a house!) now, so whenever we're not in the middle of a blackout, I can usually be found sitting within three feet of it. When there's no 'light' (and thus no fan), people in town deal with the heat by sitting outside beneath a shady tree for hours and hours, talking and shucking beans from their pods, playing dominos, or just watching the people and the motos pass. Fortunately there's usually a bit of a breeze on my street, and my neighbors have warmly added me to their usual group of tree-sitters. During the hottest part of the day life in Enriquillo falls somewhere between lethargic and comatose; doing anything that requires any amount of movement is a waste of energy. I'm fairly certain my red-headed, pale, freckled self was not made to withstand this climate. If Kimberly and Nate weren't coincidentally assigned to serve in this country too, I easily may have thought my placement here a cruel joke or mistake by our Creator. As it is, the fact that the three of us are here together serves to further my conviction that there is a reason I am here, in this precise spot at this time. I definitely have plenty of time to ponder such wonderfully deep thoughts--ideally 3 feet in front of the fan.
And what is the biggest change since I last wrote (ahem, 5 months ago...), you ask? Well, after 7 months of living with various host families, I am finally out on my own! It was a bit of a struggle to find an appropriate house in my town--safe and secure yet not ostentatious, in an acceptable neighborhood, with an indoor bathroom or at least a latrine in decent condition that's not too far from the house, etc. The main struggle was availability; people who were rumored to move out decided at the last minute to stay, and of the already vacant houses most were for sale and few owners were willing to rent. Nonetheless, a couple coffee cooperative members managed to sway the owner of a house near where they live, and she agreed to rent the house to me. Hooray! I'd be lying if I said it was charming or even cute, but it's certainly safe, and it has a nice big space out back for gardening and an indoor bathroom, and there's plenty of potential. And it came with some furniture, including a musty rat-infested couch and stuffed chair, two rustic wood tables, a dresser, and a countertop stove that's deteriorating quickly and should soon be replaced. Though it's not exactly Crate and Barrel, having something to start with was super helpful when I bought the other furnishings. Unfortunately most of my home improvement plans are on hold until I can convince the owner to foot the bill somehow, or until I manage to save up part of my monthly living allowance from the Peace Corps. We'll see. The house itself is composed of two decent sized rooms, a small kitchen, and bathroom at the end of a hallway. The outer walls are constructed of cement (you never know, exposed gray cement block could soon be as in vogue as exposed brick!), and the inner walls are made from plywood (light blue, pink, and unpainted) and knotty posts. The tin roof is fairly new so I luckily don't have to deal with leaks when it rains. My neighbors are absolutely ideal. The family immediately to my right is Evangelical Christian, and every morning the grandmother passes me a mug of homegrown, fire-roasted coffee over the barbed wire fence that separates our yards, and the granddaughters who all wear dresses with sleeves are always calling me over to play with their puppy "Scooby Doo" or offering to come over to help me sweep my back patio. Very sweet. Speaking of sweeping grass, one evening I went out to sweep my front steps, and before I knew what was happening a group of 10 neighbor kids were chopping and pulling and sweeping away at my front lawn, all armed with brooms and machetes and little helpful hands. I'll try to post a photo of them cleaning that afternoon, with my house in the background. In short, my house is far from luxurious and I have plenty of work to still do, but I love it and I love cooking in it and I love the freedom of once again living on my own. And don't worry, I still see my former host mom all the time!
Like most of life in the Dominican Republic, the work with my women's group is going rather slowly. Right now we're focusing on recruiting new members and becoming an official, legal cooperative, which involves cooperative education workshops twice monthly. This in itself is hardly a big draw for the women, so I've been giving other income-generation workshops where the women learn how to make products for familial use and also to sell. I've done a few Mistolin (floor cleaner) workshops so far which are quite popular with them (they love to argue about how much perfume we should add and suggest what scents and colors we should invest in for the future), and hope to do a recycled paper workshop for early June. We're also planning on making menthol (a popular Vicks Vapor Rub-like Dominican cure-all), candles, and shampoo. The idea is that these workshops will draw more and more women and get them excited about the cooperative, so that even though they may not have received a cow from our rotating pregnant cow project, they still recognize that they can get something out of the group. Moreover, they feel a sense of empowerment from learning how to make and sell products themselves. If anybody has any good ideas for projects we can do or easy recipes we can use (for vanilla, beauty products, cleaning products, decorative items, etc.), please send them my way!
Alright, I had planned on writing quite a bit more, but since this is the first time in a while that most of you have heard from me, I'll let you digest two pages' worth of news for now and leave you with the promise of writing more--much more--soon. In the next post: coffee, sunburns, and the novio. Hasta luego!
Amor y paz,
Melissa
