October 13, 2008

There is no long story short

I am sitting on my bed by an open window in Las Tablas, Dominican Republic on a rainy Monday afternoon.  The heat has calmed but ever so slightly that beads of sweat no longer form on my top lip but still drench my neck and stain the back of my shirt.  Steam rises from puddles. Bachata music blasts from a colmado (store) directly in front of my house and from another colmado to my right causing my head to swarm with a mixture of Latin beats and sultry lyrics. A Dominican rides by on his motto, a woman on the back with curlers secured to her head, clinging to the driver who revs the engine to announce their passing.

It seems like a dream that little over a month ago I was drinking my little bottle of peach yogurt at the office in Aiquile, Bolivia chatting with my companeros, when I received a text message from the security officer. “The US ambassador has been declared non-grata status and has 72 hours to depart the country.” This was grave and shocking news. I knew right away the gravity of this decision made by the Evo Morales, the president of Bolivia and had my speculation as to why he chose to do so. The political situation in Bolivia has never been stable, especially in the past year and a half that I have been there.  However the current situation at the time the text message was received was tenser than it has ever been since my arrival in May of 2007.  

Bolivia had been experiencing over two weeks of protests, strikes, and blockades in almost all departments of the country resulting in food and gas shortages for everyone.  The “media Luna” was again pleading for autonomy in their own departments. There were protests and blockades over the control of natural gas reserves in the south leading to an explosion of one of the pipelines which will cost over a million dollars to fix. Brazil was considering sending in their troops to help regulate the situation because over a million people in Sao Paulo would be without gas and power if the striking continued. Santa Cruz was seeing more marches and protests in streets which escalated to the destruction of banks, government buildings, and violent confrontation with police.  

President Morales accused Phillip Goldberg, the US ambassador of meeting with opposition leaders and instigating the uprisings occurring in Santa Cruz.  For this reason Mr. Goldberg was asked to leave.  Following this decision Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela also kicked out the US ambassador of his country in support of President Morales.  Whether Mr. Goldberg is responsible for instigating the uprising is in question however it is probable that he met with the opposition party. That is what ambassadors do, meet with all parties.  I personally believe (even as a MAS supporter (Movimiento Al Socialismo) that President Morales needed to place blame on someone for the upheaval happening throughout the entire country.

After receiving the message I was told to keep my phone on and close by in order to receive updates. The following events happened very quickly.  We went from an EAP (emergency action plan) Alert phase to an EAP consolidation phase in a matter of an hour.  I was asked to travel to Cochabamba that night but denied knowing how impossible it would to be to pack, uncertain of my return, and to say indefinite goodbyes to my community.

I went to the after school center where I had tea and bread with the kids one last time. Giving extra long hugs to those gentle little people that touched my life and reiterated how grateful I am for my childhood.  From there to my charango class where I took a few pictures of the chaos of 30 some kids strumming all at once, said a few teary eyed goodbyes and returned to my house.  I had a gut feeling that I tried to ignore that this would be my last day living in Aiquile.

When I arrived home I sat with Dona Maria and Constantina (Esmecas’ sister) to tell them what was happening.  Immediately Dona Maria’s’ eyes filled with tears and she left the room to pray. Constantina who is deaf comes to my room and breaks down. Signing to me something then leaving for her room hysterical. She had thought we had said that her sister Esmeca had died. Esmeca has been in the campo for a long time and we had all been a little worried about her. Dona Maria finds Constantina balling in her room, putting her black mourning skirt and shirt on. What a complete mess. Hugging her I was able to reassure her that her sister was fine and not to worry. That it was I who was leaving and possibly not returning. I never did get to say goodbye to Esmeca, the heart of that household, the center of my existence in Aiquile.

Early Friday morning after hugging and kissing our closest friends, we give broken promises of return, and we climb aboard a packed mini van destination Cochabamba.    
We spend two full days locked up in the hotel wandering aimlessly in circles in the small strip of grass bordering our rooms. What we did know was that on Sunday we had to have our things packed and that we were being transferred to the other hotel where the rest of the volunteers were. There we would have a group meeting and update on what the plan was.  That never happened. Instead the Country Director informed us that a plane was waiting for us at the airport and we were being evacuated to Lima, Peru.  We were told to keep this information strictly confidential because the other volunteers would be arriving the next day and if the Bolivian government found out they could deny take off for the aircraft.

We arrive at the airport to find that another group from Tarija had just arrived to Cochabamba on the same C-130 military plane that we will soon depart on together.  This group had been consolidated in the Chaco because the Tarija airport had been blocked off and closed. We board the plane and sit facing each other, strapping into a cargo net as our seat. The absolute worst plane ride I have ever been on. It felt as if we were in a toy airplane with a five year old boy holding onto our destiny in his hand dipping and rising while running in the yard. It took all the strength I could conjure to keep me from tossing my cookies into my bag lunch.

We arrive in Lima at a military base and are greeted by the US ambassador, military officials and Peace Corps directors. They give us a briefing in a small room and we are taken on buses to a “vacation center” outside the city in a town called Chaclacallo. There we sit and wait. The next day, before the last group of volunteers arrives; we are informed that Peace Corps Bolivia has been suspended.  

I guess we all saw it coming.  I would not believe until it was confirmed. Now having confirmation, what next???

Alcohol. We didn’t sleep from anxiety depression confusion fear distress sadness. We played music smoke cigarettes danced walked ate. We drank so the emotional pain was converted to physical ache and we could pretend our situation was not real.

After a few necessary and destructive days we owned up and confronted reality. We had many decisions to make and a lot of paper work to fill out. Final reports, description of service, projects to close, money to count and transfer, the list goes on and on. Those that were considering transferring had much to consider; where to go and for how long.  

I was very weary about signing up for another year. The thought of starting all over again was exhausting. I had put all my energy, my heart and soul in Aiquile. I was unsure if I had anything else left to give. Yet accepting the situation and after seeing the three pages of countries and projects that were put in front of me I could not pass the opportunity up.  I took one look at the list and said the Dominican Republic is where I will go. It was far enough away from my beloved Bolivia; it would be completely different and a much needed fresh start. Also, the ocean brings me serenity, hope, and acceptance. Things I need while healing from the shock of being ripped and torn from my home and displaced from all my friends and family.

So here I am, La Republica Dominicana. One other volunteer from Bolivia also decided to transfer here so we are both in this together. We were fortunate to arrive at the end of a training group so we are being coaxed into this new environment.  This Saturday we will be moving back to a neighborhood in Santo Domingo for a few remaining days.  

Where am I?
BATEY 7
Picture in your mind what a plantation of sugar cane may have looked like in the south of the United States post civil war during the 1860’s. Picture mud thatched housing, straw roofs, and dirt floors. Stagnant water filled with trash and fecal matter lines the streets.  Small black children play naked in the dirt, their pot bellies covered with dry mud, their neck and shoulders lined with sores. At dusk men mosey in from a full day cutting sugar cane, machete in hand.  Small boys ride donkeys or walk next to the cattle they herd in from the fields. Women wash clothes in a basin and yell at their children when they stray too far or when they dive under the water of the irrigation canal that runs through the side of the town.

This is where I live; in a Haitian-Dominican sugar cane community down a very long dirt road.  Originally the Haitians would migrate to this area just for the sugar cane cutting season then return to Haiti. Now a community has formed and generations of Haitian immigrants have lived here, born as Dominican citizens. For this reason the entire community speaks Spanish and Creole.  Creole is the language spoken in Haiti and if I am not mistaken it is a mixture of French and African dialects.  Needless to say I will be learning this language because there are many members of the community that speak only Creole.  

In the Batey there is a school that goes to 5th grade.  There is a clinic that attends to the community for a small fee. I hope eventually to live in the small house next to the clinic that was built for a potential volunteer. I also plan on collaborating with them on many projects. The Batey has 5 churches that are all predominately Evangelical although I do believe there is a Catholic church somewhere. There are roughly 350 houses and around 1200 people that live permanently in the Batey. During picking season Haitians come across the border and the town fills up.  

So no one worries I feel extremely safe here. I am living with a host family currently and will be here for at the least one more month depending on the housing situation.  The family is so incredibly generous and wonderful.  They have accepted me into their home as there daughter.  There are many who are looking after me and making sure I am well taken care of.  My parents who dropped me off today were able to see first hand how hospitable these people are.  I am very fortunate.  

In addition, there are four other Peace Corps volunteers, all women, which are in surrounding bateys working in health, youth development, and business areas.  It makes for a really nice support system.  We plan on meeting up once every two weeks plan events, share dinner, and vent frustrations.  


10/21/2008 Arrival day to Batey 7

Words of wisdom to self:
Be strong. Except the love that is being given to you. Work for the better of this community. Breathe. Have faith in yourself, in the Universe, and in those around you.  Ask for help when you need it. Do not isolate yourself. This is reality. Be the revolution you are fighting.

Why I needed strength:
It took all my strength, which seemed not nearly enough, to get me through this morning; to put a smile on my face and not wander off to some far off place. The children were driving me crazy, following me around, not letting me be for an instant. I could feel the annoyance I did not want to feel. What was this house so different from the last? Why did the smile not come easy? Why could I not motivate myself to make conversation? I now know it is due to a small bout of culture shock, the exhaustion of moving again for the 4th time in less than a month, and the energy required to integrate into a new world. I thought for more than a moment that I was somehow immune to these emotions because of the number of times I have done this. I most certainly am not immune. These changes shock the body and mind twisting your emotions until they are arrive at a breaking point. Yet, these are emotions that come and go. They do not last and are all part of this experience.

Why I stay:
This afternoon we had a committee meeting with those interested in working with me.  I was surprised and so relieved at the diverse representation of members of the community who want to participate in improving the quality of living of their community.  There is a health committee that meets once a week that will be supporting me and working beside me throughout this year. I was instantly rejuvenated—the life shocked back into me. Early today I had to keep telling myself- you can do this—ay! But can I??? I would reply.  Now, seeing the need and hearing the enthusiasm, it has brought a whole new outlook on my purpose of being here. I look forward to working to improve the health of this community so that after I am gone they can continue to do this on their own.

10/22/2008
The generosity that has been given to me is beyond any I have ever received. Hope and true goodness in humanity has been restored in my heart and mind. Thank you universe-god- for all I have-for the wonderful people that you have brought to my life. This is poverty as I have never known or never fully experienced.  This is poverty that humbles, that does not betray.  This is life, raw, pure, and unspoiled. Truth and wisdom lie within the hearts and souls of the people.  

10/26/2008
Please let be amoebas and not dengue was all I could plead from my many trips to the bathroom between hot and cold spells brought on by fever.  At one point, on the toilet, I remember telling myself, “stay with me em, stay with me” then blacking out. Scary. Luckily this time I don’t have dengue or amoebas, just a good ole bacterial infection from consuming fecal matter either from the water or from food.  My family arrives tomorrow, I can’t wait. It will be so nice and refreshing to see them and take a small trip to paradise before beginning a very challenging year in the Batey.  It will be very special for them to see where I am living, to know first hand what poverty looks, feels, and smells like.
  
11/05/2008
Obama! Yes! Obama has won! This huge step for our country has made it easier to return to the Batey after a week and a half of vacation with my family. My parents and my brother were able to meet me in Santo Domingo last week. We drove up to Puerto Plata on the northern coast where we stayed at a beautiful resort right on a palm tree lined beach.  Just behind us mountains jutted out of the sea creating a “Robinson Crusoe” backdrop. (In my fathers’ words) It was breath taking. Here we relaxed, swam in the ocean, did some kayak surfing, and went fishing where I caught a dolphin fish! We also climbed a huge mountain that over looked the city on a cable car that took us almost 2500 ft. above the ocean. Then we hiked around the botanical gardens at the top. We explored an amber museum where we saw the only lizard fully preserved in amber that is over 50 million years old! It was also the specimen that was used for the Jurassic Park movie..haha. After we soaked up some sun, drank our share of cocktails, and ate enough fattening foods, we headed to Jarabacoa, a mountain town in the central highlands of the country. There we stayed at another gorgeous place right on a raging river.  The hotel restaurant over looked the rapids and Neal, mom and I all got in the river and played in the rapids. From there we headed southwest to Barahona. We drove along the coast and discoverd a bed and breakfast that over looked the ocean. Paradise. the water so clear and blue, the sky melting into the ocean.  a wonderful way to end a vacation.  we swam in the ocean and found rocks and shells along the shore.

This morning we woke up to an Obama victory. very positive energy to begin my journey alone, and say farewell to my family. We drove out to my site where we ate lunch with my host family, played with the kids, and cut and ate sugar cane. After a tearful goodbye i settled back into my room and put myself back into work mode. much to be done. where to start?