I heard the thunder before I left my house,
but knowing I had to do a few things in town, I packed up my umbrella and took
off. The clouds were already starting to roll in and the sky to darken. I
rushed through town, did my errands, of course taking the time to buy a big
mango (season is almost over and I need to take advantage!). As I went along,
people were warning me that the storm was coming. I could tell it was coming -
the dark clouds gave it away. It had started to drizzle, so of course, the streets
were empty. That is one bad habit I have picked up: <its raining? I guess it
means I get to stay inside, wouldn’t want to get wet. Not much gets done around
here when it’s raining.> Even most of the moto-taxis escaped the rain and
went into hiding. I figured I would just walk back home, but one of the
motoconchos was telling me, <The storm is coming and its going to be a good
one! You don’t want to get wet.> I looked out in the direction of my house,
and sure enough the clouds were even darker than when I first left. I felt like
Dorothy, wanting to get home and worried about the storm. I jumped onto the
moto and off we went. I had my umbrella open to protect me from the rain (which
is normal to do, no girl wants their hair wet) but the driver told me that I
should close it so that we can go faster before the rain really starts to pour.
I hated the idea of getting wet, but thankfully I listenend, and by the time I
got home, it really started pouring. The driver just laughed at me when I
hopped off, opened my umbrella, and paid him.
Now I go into automatic mode when it rains:
close all my metal shutters, take out the bucket to collect rainwater, move my
bed away from the wall so that it doesnt get wet, light my mosquito candle
(they really come out), and prepare
to eat dinner early in case the luz never comes back on. It is the end of the
month, which usually means the end of my stipend, but I had bought a few extra
cans of tuna the last time I went to the colmado, and so soon I will fry up a
can of tuna for dinner. My mouth is watering at the thought of it. YUM.
August brought a couple of trips to the
river with my host family. Both trips it rained, but the first is definitely
more memorable. Trips to the river mean bringing food to eat as well as lugging
your shampoo and soap to bathe. Being short on water in my house, and dealing
with the unbearable heat, I was grateful to bathe in the river. We all washed
our hair and lathered up. I felt strange at first, but I soon forgot all about
it. I was just happy to have my body submerged in cold water and not in
dripping sweat. The kids found some crumbling mud rocks and so we put it on our
faces as if at a spa. There was this small but powerful waterfall and it felt
like a massage. It started to rain and we loaded up the car. We all piled in
and then the engine wouldn’t start. There was another loading truck with us,
but there was no way we would fit in there. The jumping cables were missing,
and so they fidgeted with the car for about an hour or so. It got dark quickly,
it started to rain again, and the mosquitos were in full force. My host dad
mentions that that day he just so happened not to carry his gun with him. He
just laughed. Great. Out in the campo, miles and hills and rivers away from the
highway, and us all alone in the dark. I hopped back into the car and prepared
my mind to sleep in the car if need be, scoping out my spot. Somehow, because
Dominicans know how to fix everything,
they switched the batteries from one truck to another and we took off. I breathed
a sigh of relief. I was starting to believe the stories they were telling the
kids about the man in the woods with a machete that was coming to get us,
because there really are men in the woods with machetes.
By the way, a large hog was just being walked
outside my house. Out to the slaughterhouse I am afraid.
A link to a project from us east-siders of the island:
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=517-315
