Volunteering in the DR

After a week back in the capital -swearing in and becoming an official volunteer, saying goodbye to my SD family and fellow volunteers, and spending my first Halloween in the DR- I have returned home to Miches. I struggled the morning after Halloween night to wake up early and take the next guagua ride back to my beach town. Some of the older volunteers organized a Halloween party at a bar in the colonial zone, complete with decorations, costumes, and candy. I figured I deserved to take a taxi ride into the capital and to my bus stop. There was no way I would be able to carry a few small but heavy (for me, that is) pieces of luggage on a guagua, plus have to walk a few blocks to a cross street I sort of had an idea of where it was, but not definitely. Plus most people don’t know the street names, and I didn’t want to risk walking in circles around a huge flea market, lost. That is how I justified my paying for a taxi. I even told the driver that I would not pay the extra $20 pesos (less than a dollar!) for an airconditioned ride when I had requested the cheaper car. He looked at me like I was crazy, and said if I wanted him to turn off the air to save the $20 pesos. He probably figured I had money and that I would cleary not take him up on his offer. Who would want to ride in the hot humid car when you can have air conditioning? He was wrong. He was annoyed that I would not pay for us to have airconditioning on the ride in. I didn’t care. Just put the windows down. I am a volunteer and really do not have money to waste on airconditioning! So frugal. I realized then that I have stopped thinking in dollars since it does not make sense anymore. I get a stipend in pesos, and that is how I do buisness. Everything is so much more expensive in pesos, when there are no pesos to spend. It was the first time I took this bus by myself back into Miches. I sat at the bus stop with my luggage for an hour, waiting for the guagua to arrive and take us away. I was so thirsty, and risked having someone watch my luggage while I went to a little stand nearby for a bottle. Even though I could see myself as an easy target for theft, I was too thirsty and hot to not try. Luckily, he was trustworthy, and I did not have to wait much longer for the guagua to take off. The three and a half hour ride in was pretty easy, especially since it wasn’t too full, and I was able to stretch out in my seat. YaY. And its air conditioned – part of the price. I heard some Christmas music, but it just isn’t the same in Spanish. Decorations have been springing up more and more, although I have seen decorations as early September . It is the official Xmas season, although it just doesn’t make sense to me. I feel as if it is still August, as it is still hot! Just one long summer. Who has Xmas in the summer? I know that SoCal is not much for the changing of the seasons as in the rest of the country, but compared to this, I do miss the Santa Ana winds even. When I arrived to my Miches home, the kids were happy to see me, and since it was past dinner time, they quickly fried up some fish and tostones (fried green plantains) that was so yummy, I kept eating even though I was already full. This is why I have gotten to be so “fuerte.” I have to stop this. Today I went to visit a friend that lives up on the hill, a more poorer part of town, but pretty just the same.We treked up the hill, stopping at a few rest stops on the way. I helped her carry a bag of groceries, and although the sun wasn’t out, I was still sweating. She introduced me to a few people along the way. By the time we made it to her house, I had sweat pouring out in the most random of places. We sat in her humble home and watched her grandchildren play. I took pictures of them playing barefoot in the yard, running around. Now I know where she lives, and I asked her if I could go to a Junta de Vecinos meeting (neighborhood) with her next Sunday, so that I can start meeting more people. There is a definite class difference with the “downtown” area and the communities in the surrounding hills. I feel guilty when they say I live down in the pueblo. On my way down with my friend through a shortcut that involves a somewhat steep hill, I had to hold on to her hand so that I would not fall or slip down the rocky road. I felt so silly; I could imagine her neighbors were laughing at this tattoed white girl struggle down this easy road with her flipflops, holding onto an older woman’s hand, when it should be the other way around. I am pretty sure they referred to me as a potato but she paid no attention to them and I kept on walking. It goes with the territory, I guess. Sometimes it does work in my favor to play dumb. Walking through town can be tiring. Most people just stare at me until I say hello. Sometimes they continue staring, and other times they bust out in this big sincere smile and return my greeting. They are sizing me up. Trying to figure me out. It is harder to appease the women. Sometimes I just don’t have the energy to be polite and put on a smile and yell out my Saludo!, but I do it anyway. It is the only way I will gain their confianza (confidence), which is so important here.