Journal For Integration Phase in Dominica
8-21-05 until 12-17-05
9-25-05 Its been a bit. I am very sorry for not keeping this journal for the last month. I have just become very busy and often far from my computer. There is so much to say, but I'm not in the mood to write a short story. Needless to say I am really enjoying my time hear in Dominica. This island is very different from St. Lucia. It has more mountains and is less Americanized. There are no fast food chains (knock on wood), no party scene, and a weaker economy. There are also no Sandals or other name brand hotel chains. The island is relatively undisturbed. Some say that if Columbus were to return to the islands, Dominica would be the only one he could recognize. My host family is amazing and I am becoming very close with them. It will be very hard to move out. There are so many things I want to write about. I guess what I will do is each day write two passages- one about this last month and one about the present day. So here it goes:
Flashback 1 (glasses): I swim in the river by my village daily. It has been dry, so to save water we bathe and wash in the river. I spend hours there just enjoying the mix of fresh and salty water. The river pours out into the ocean and the small mouth acts as a suction that you can ride. We cover our rear with our hands and float over the rocks as the current spits us out onto the salty shores of the ocean. People come and go, bathe and wash, play and talk. It is a very wet center of town. One rainy day we decided to dive into the water from the shore. Forgetting I had my glasses on I dove head first. My glasses instantly sank to the bottom. My host sister and brother stopped what they where doing and helped me search for almost forty minutes. I came close to giving up, but they refused knowing how expensive and important they where to me. Normally, you can see the bottom very clearly, but today it had been raining which made the water cloudy. I really felt helpless and it made me realize how dependent I was on the people around me. Finally, my foot slid past something smooth. I clenched it with my toes and lifted. It was my glasses. I gave my host brother and sister a huge hug and we continued to play.
Today: Today has been a busy but lazy day. My host father is a Pastor at a church a little over an hour away. We awoke early, prepared lunch, packed, and headed out. On the way my host mother fell ill and we dropped her off at the nurses home. Church as always, was a lot of fun and very inspirational. The singing and dancing is very uplifting and the messages are always powerful. I really enjoy religion on this island. It is as diverse as anywhere else, but a lot more prevalent. Tonight I will probably do what I always do at night- read, write, practice Creole, and then read some more. If anyone wants to recommend some good books please do- I'm running out!
9-26-05 Children Calling. Today I worked at my local school tutoring and working with the teacher. It really makes my day to work with children. If this experience teaches me one thing, it is that children are the same everywhere and everyone of them needs care, respect, and attention. Yet everywhere including in the United States children receive far to little of any of these. I think that is my calling in life.
9-27-05 Slang. I am so vexed with you. Check your vibes. Lets bathe in the river. I was liming. All common phrases that I love and are part of the vast amount of slang I hear every day. I am vexed means- I'm angry. Check your vibes means- how are you doing or make sure your ok. Bathe means- swim (though sometimes it also means take a bath). To lime is to chill out or hang out. At first I thought that I was having a hard time understanding peoples accent, but recently I have realized that I perfectly understand them, I just don't always get what they mean! I am starting to use the slang and by the end of the two years, no one from home is going to understand me!
Flashback 2 (Arrival)- Our flight to Dominica was delayed and delayed. By the time we landed I thought I would just pass out. As our bags came off the plane a man who heard we were with the Peace Corps eagerly helped us carry them through customs. Already I realized how similar to St. Lucia Dominica would be. As we exited the airport several current volunteers and our PCMO (our boss) greeted us with a sign and hugs. It was great to meet these individuals. They were enthusiastic to have us and very supportive. We were then whisked away to an old plantation house turned guest house. The roads were everything people said they would be- steep, windy, and narrow. I grimaced every time we passed another vehicle and felt more nauseous after every turn. I could not believe how absolutely beautiful everything was. Green, lush, mountainous. It has to be a peace of heaven on earth. The excitement mounted as our tour guide, a current PCV, took us down a path to a river for our first official Dominican river bath. Needless to say, I slept like a baby that first night.
9-28-05 City Year Friends (I miss you). Today I went into town (Roseau) for training. My group of eight is really a dynamic and strong group. I love each person even though each is very diverse. We are from all over the nation and have varied pasts and backgrounds. Yet, we are all here. Each person is having a different experience because each person is so very dynamic in their own way. We all came here for different reasons, each took a different path, but all of us are experiencing this amazing period of our lives together. Even though I enjoy everyone in the group, myself and another girl have become closer friends. She also spent time in Boston working with youth and the environment. We both love sports and have similar past experiences. Most of all we just click, as friends. This group reminds me of the group I had in City Year last year. Everyone was unique and wonderful in their own way, but all chose to serve. Some will be my friends until the day I pass away and some will always be with me in spirit and memories. This group will most likely be the same. Still, I miss all of my friends from City Year Boston and Chicago very much. I think when I return I will buy a junk car and drive the county visiting everyone!
Flashback 3 (loss)- So I mentioned that our group was made up of eight individuals, but it began as ten. We lost two members for different reasons. One said she just couldn't get over an empty feeling she was having. The other said she couldn't handle the heat. The head of Peace Corps Dominica says that when people leave early they generally don't disclose the real reason why. I can sort of understand them. Honestly, when they announced their departure I thought to myself "it would be so easy just to give up and go home". The Eastern Caribbean has the highest drop out rate in the Peace Corps. They say that about twenty percent do not make it to sign-in and that another twenty won't make it to their second year. Despite the percentages, I am almost positive we wont loose another two. At least, I really hope not.
10-1-05 Boiling Lake Hike. Yesterday I accomplished a hike of a life time. A group of us went to see the last boiling lake in the world. It took a three hour hike over peaks, through the Valley of Desolation, and into a landslide. The hike was long, hard, and awesome. There was no point in which your surroundings didn't captivate you. The beauty of Dominica's harsh landscape is a hikers dream come true. This hike reminds you of natures beauty and power. It begins with a long, but gradual hike up to a river that is pure enough to drink from. Then you continue up, more steep this time along a ridge that gives you a view of the mountain range, the main town, and the ocean. Once at the top, there is a look out point with an unbeatable view. You feel accomplished to reach this point, but the difficult trail remains ahead. From this point you seem to sink straight down into a valley. Once we reached near the bottom we ran into a recent landslide that had taken out a part of the path. I attempted to cross only to sink eerily up to my calf. I pulled out and we re-assessed our plan. Another hiker began taking another route. We threw rocks into the mud to make a path and eventually reached the other side. This is where the trail really becomes fascinating. You make your way through landscapes that you see in dinosaur movies. Hissing earth, bubbling sulfur, and hot rocks underneath every step. After managing your way through prehistoric landscape you walk along what looks like a river of milk. This water forms pools that gradually dump into each other through a series of water falls. You begin to climb again wondering if you'll ever find this boiling lake. Finally, you turn a corner to discover a hair raising sight. There in front of you is this massive crater filled with a dark liquid. In the center the water boils upwards. It reminds me of sci-fi movies when the monster or ship is emerging from the depths of the ocean. The steam is overwhelming and the sight gives you a feeling of awe, fear, and wonder. On the way back we stopped at one of the hot pools of water and rested our tired legs, knowing that we had a long and steep trip back to the top of the peak. That's when the rain started, and continued until we returned. We slipped our way back to the trail head. Soaked and happy we headed to Tito Gorge.
Tito Gorge. The best way to end a hike is to jump straight into an ice-cold gorge. This particular gorge is not ordinary though. Its beauty captivated the Hollywood producers of Pirates of the Caribbean. In fact, part of the sequel to this movie was shot at this sight. After a tour of the site the producer said that to make a set this amazing would cost millions and yet here it was naturally. You enter the rocky river at a point where a hot spring sprays down into the cold water through sister waterfalls. You move into the gorge with soft coffee colored walls shooting up on either side of you. At the far end a beautiful waterfall that pushed you to your limit with its powerful current. An amazing end to an amazing day.
10-2-05 I love Sundays. I love Sundays because I receive my phone calls from the States. I look forward to these conversations all week long. One of my closest friends talks at length about friends, issues, and past good times. These conversations allow me to drift back into a seemingly far away life. A life that even after only a few months away, seems abstract. I listen attentively and dream that these problems and drama are my own. I almost long for them. It is an escape that seems to ameliorate my day. My conversations with my mother are similar except I find myself talking more of what I am doing and miss. I am happiest when my mother is at the other line of the phone- it gives me strength. I hope more people will call when I get my own place. I long for conversations about the little things that make my heart feel warm- like fall, sports, and the latest gossip. It is a guilty pleasure that I will never take for granted again.
Flashback 4 (Elections)- The very first night I arrived at my village it was elections for the Village Council. Every large village has a council that acts as a local government. These groups focus on community development and projects to make life for villagers a little better. For example the last council installed ten street lamps and organized days for culture and community service. The idea is brilliant. Officers cannot be political, but usually hold important roles in the community. There are five leaders elected democratically, and then they nominate three more from the community. They also decide upon a chairman. There is a lot of energy around elections. The night I watched the process they had live music and parties throughout the village. Ten candidates ran with representatives from different age groups, organizations, and occupations. The air was electric as they named off the winners. It is a great opportunity to watch this entire process from start to end. Each council serves for three years- they came in when I did and will leave soon after I do.
10-03-05 Jon my Pet. Jon means yellow in Creole. It is pronounced 'yo' and is the name of my pet lizard. I call him Jon because he is yellow like the walls of my room. He is supper cute and eats all the obnoxious insects that fly into my room each night. He sleeps behind the dresser in my room. I wish Jon was bigger so he could eat the roaches too. I wish I could take him with me when I move, but he seems very content behind the dresser. So today, when I wasn't speaking to a lizard, I attended a class at the local Secondary School. The teachers seem glad to have me and the students are thrilled. These children are intelligent, but just like in the US, have been passed over by the system. Some do not even read at a second grade level. I am not sure exactly how I will fit in, but I hope my presence helps. Literacy seems to be the big issue for youth. It is amazing that in two completely different nations with different politics, cultures, and traditions, poverty leads to similar end- illiteracy. After the class I met with certain local officials and talked about some ways I might help out at the village councilors office. I predict helping with computer literacy and grant writing. I was also told I will be instrumental in helping the council move its focus from infrastructure growth to community involvement. Helping them spot the real needs of the community and producing programs to address them. I will also be helping to rally youth for the National Day of Service to do a beach clean-up project. SO Exciting! Yah- Jon just got a huge moth! He is soooo cute- wiggle, wiggle!
Flashback (bananas)- Oh bananas- you put them in your cereal, on a peanut butter sandwich, or just eat them raw. Or if your a Dominican you boil them, bake them, and mash them into a salty pie. One day I went with my host family to their banana farm to harvest. I helped to clean and pack fresh organic bananas- or yellow gold as they once called them. A failing industry, Dominican bananas are organic, sweet, and very very good. Tiny ones the size of your index finger to large ones the size of a shoe, they are all better than the ones you get in America. Why- because the US imports dollar bananas from large plantations in South America. These farmers cannot compete even though their product is better tasting and better for you. So if you are ever having a craving for a really great banana just jump on a plane and fly over to the Eastern Caribbean. Or insist on only buying organic and Fairtrade produce.
10-4-05 AHHHHH Overwhelmed. Today I woke up at my usual 6am and with great alacrity made breakfast for my host family. I then dressed and descended the hill to the Secondary school. The mornings dash shade across the road making the heat a bit more bearable. I say good morning (mwen bein- pronounced mway bay), to each and every person I pass or am passed by. After the fifteen minute walk, I arrive at 7:45. The morning assembly begins promptly with a religious song and prayer. I am given what is hopefully to be my final Tuesday schedule. I will be in three different language classes starting at 8 and continuing until 10:40. I am introduced to the first teacher as we walk to the classroom. Classrooms are open to the elements with holy cement walls and wooden windows and doors. As we enter the classroom the students stand out of respect and tradition. The teacher must spend the first ten minutes rearranging the classroom since many desks are broken or without adjoining chairs. The teacher has me take a seat at the back of the class. I observe a class of students far bellow their level but above many of their peers. They make great attempts and the teacher holds their attention well. The bell (a real brass bell with wooden handle) rings signaling the change of classes. Teachers move, not the students. I then attend two more classes with students at various levels. At the end of the final class I begin my climb back to my home. It is the heat of the day and it takes over twenty minutes to reach the peak. By the time I arrive my clothes are damp and stick to my skin, sweat drips from my chin, and my head spins. I strip and bathe. I then cook the lunch for the family and rest my head. At 1 I eat a piece of bread and some meat and ketchup. At 1:15 I am descending again, this time to the primary school. Here I am left tutoring a class that I have no lesson plan for. I make something up on the spot but am glad to send the children on their way at 3:30. I must get to the local bar at 3:30 to meet the village council in order to catch a ride to a town meeting across the river. First though, I must help the teacher's daughter I am tutoring for to put on her shoes and socks so I can drop her off with her mother. I finally arrive at 3:45. We depart at 4:10, arrive at 4:30, begin at 5:15, and end at 6:35. I feel as if my days are getting longer and more and more people are expecting more and more things from me. I need to take a step back and take another look at my schedule. I feel very overwhelmed.
10-5-05 A Hellish Ser name. Well I am not supposed to write any personal information on the website for security reasons so this entry will be a bit hard to do. Basically, my last name (or as they call it ser name) begins with the sound hell. I guess this is a big problem for the people here. I had noticed for a long time that people would miss pronounce it no matter how many times I spelled or said it. They always changed the hell sound to hill. Those that know me well and know my last name can understand why this is very troublesome for me. I do not wish to be called that last name because of the people who hold it. Finally, a man told me I must change my name because hell is just not holy. This really bothers me. I tried to explain that it is a German name and has nothing to do with hell, it is not even spelled H E L L. Still, people refuse to say it correctly. I am proud of my family and my name, and truly do not wish to pronounce it any other way. I am changing myself in so many ways already, they could at least allow me to keep my name.
10-6-05 Bugs. Last night I had my second run-in with fire ants. At first you just think your foot itches, then you come to the realization that you are being bitten by about twenty tiny, hungry little creatures. Those things vex me beyond any of the other creatures I have come in contact with. I counted eighteen bites over my two feet not including the three mosquito bites. My feet itch and burn and they will continue to do so for days. I think I hate the ants more than the cockroaches, moths, beetles, and the millions of other insects that thrive here. Perhaps this is why I truly love my lizard Jon. If only I could carry him around in my pocket and take him out to assail any insect that comes near me. Even with the bugs I am really enjoying my tutoring. The children are so wonderful and bright. I think I am really connecting with them. I am also going to start walking at night with a woman from CCF and the principal of the primary school. I hope this will both help me stay in shape and allow me to bond with people outside of my home stay. I also made my first local soup. I look forward to making it for everyone who visits, if you can handle chasing the bugs out of your bowl now and then.
10-7-05 Darkness. So its only six, but soon I will need to sleep. Why? Because the electricity is out again. I can remember when I was a child I would be eager for a power outage so that we could light candles and walk around in the dark. It was always disappointing when the lights would flash back on. Here, its no longer a fun children's game. It is really annoying. The lights have gone out at least three times in the last week and a half. Twice, including tonight, it has been dark. When they go out you hear the entire village grown, literally. There is nothing to do and the air feels even more still and oppressively hot. You cannot do anything but sit around for hours waiting for the lights to return. Once they do you can hear the entire village shout out of joy. I cannot figure out why the system is so unstable. It does not rain much before it goes out. I guess this is yet another thing I must get used to- the dark.
10-8-05 Magically Cured. Yesterday, I awoke with a terrible cold. My throat ached, my head hurt, and I felt feverish. Still, I had to go into town for an all volunteer meeting at the office. After the meeting they surprised my group by doing a local establishment crawl. Basically, they picked out about five unique places that served liquor and brought us from one to another. Since I had aspirin in my stomach I did not drink alcohol. The last stop was at an herbalist's bar. The owners made all kinds of rum punches, sauces, teas, and spice mixes. One was labeled as a cure for a cold and to help put you to sleep. I had little to loose since I felt so horrible and asked the woman for a glass. She brewed a cup and added her own honey. It filled my senses and tasted heavenly. I slept the entire bus ride home, and for 10 hours that night. When I awoke I felt much better! My host father made me a tea that he said would kick the rest of it out of my system. After drinking what tasted like mint tea even my sinuses cleared. It makes you wonder what we have lost because of modern medicine. I was cured and I no longer fear facing the common cold while on Dominica.
10-9-05 Why did the Chicken Cross the Road? Before I thought these jokes random as well as stupid, but now I cannot get them out of my head! Why? Because everyday I see at least two chickens cross the road and every time that dumb phrase crosses my mind. So I thought maybe if I write about it, it will go away. Plus, I thought I would enlighten all of you to the real reasons the chicken crosses the road. Number one: the chicken crosses the road in order to avoid being run over by speeding cars. Number two: she crosses to join her sister or husband in the opposite ditch. Number three: there is just as little food on that side, but you know what they say, the gravel on the other side is always grayer. And Finally number Four. The chicken sees you approaching, is frightened, and instead of turning around and moving a few steps out of danger's way, darts full speed in whatever direction it is facing even across the road into a cars path. These are the four reasons I have seen why chickens cross the road. I will keep you posted if any more come to my attention.
10-10-05 A Lack of Hope. So I am feeling a bit low today and I am trying to figure out why. A huge part is that I miss my family, friends, and the US, but there is something more. I thought back to when I filled out the application. I remember thinking that this opportunity would be the acme of my life. Still I never grasped what it would be like- I couldn't, it was beyond my comprehension. Yet, I filled it out and submitted it anyways, not really thinking that the day would come when I would be leaving. Then it came- fear, anxiety, and doubt that it was the right choice, rolled in like train. Too late- all aboard. Now I'm in some ways regreting this step, even though I would do it all again. Why? because I long for the ignorance I had back in the states. When I worked in college I saw the problems of Chicago and knew the steps needed to fix them. It would be difficult, but not impossible. Then in Boston I again faced similar societal woes, but my job allowed me to address them and really make an impact. Again, poverty, illiteracy, institutional racism all existed and were huge problems, but they came with possible solutions. I may have been a small fish in a big sea, but I could take a large bite into the problems around me. Now I have left our blessed nation with its complex social ills surrounded by moments of hope to enter the world. And it is not a small world after all. In fact, I have become a grain of sand on the fin of a small fish in a gigantic ocean. This ocean's problems are beyond complex and one individual can barely nibble. I feel obsolete, I feel hopeless. This realization shakes me more and more because I once swore I could not be entirely happy knowing there are people who are miserable, suffering, and in dire circumstances. We are born believing we can do anything and that we are the center of the universe. Everyone is happy if we are. As we grow we discover our surroundings and begin to realize we had to act in order to give others joy. Still our reality is small.. Then college hits and we learn about the true nature of the world, but it is not reality to us, just a reading or discussion in class. In addition to our separation from the problems, our professors, readings, fellow students, and mentors give us solutions to the problems- they give us hope. This hope allows us to remain untouched by the horrors of the world and fantasize about their end. Utopia it seems, is just another class away. Then, for me at least, the world slowly creeps in. I feel the worlds troubles at my door step as I cower inside with no true weapons or hope. No action I take will change the world for the better. Children are beaten, raped, killed, and turned into hateful soldiers. Women face similar, and entire races of people hate one another for sometimes justifiable, and sometimes not, reasons. It seems easy- stop it, lets all just get along (I think their is a song like that). Ok, problem solved lets get to the happiness and love. I really just need to find a new source of hope. One that maybe has a bit of reality attached. One that will sustain me past this brief period in my life.
Home vs. Work- So since my last entry I have had an epiphany. I realize that part of the reason I am having a hard time is because I look at my village and every aspect of what I do as work. I am on 24/7. I now have come to see the only way to stay sane is to make my village my home and only certain areas my work. This way the talks with villagers is no longer "work" but talks with friends and neighbors. I need to stop looking at each persons and wondering how I can assist them or how they will fit into my work. I need to see everyone as my fellow Dominican. Only then will I be comfortable and my work will be able to take on a level of passion it had in the states. This is my home and work, but mainly my home.
10-12-05 Middleham Falls. Today myself and three other PCVs went on a hike to Middleham Falls, the tallest waterfall in Dominica. The hike was easy and the falls amazing. On the way we passed the Stinking Hole, a lava tube were bats and other creatures live. I am not going to try to describe the beauty because it was beyond words. Hopefully, the pictures will capture some of it.
10-13-05 Safety. There is currently a Dengue Fever outbreak surrounding the island. The prediction is that it will be upon us around Christmas time. Still, I feel surprisingly safe. Why? Because there are numerous other areas of my health and security that I no longer have to fear like I did in the US. Such as homicides, car accidents, serial killers, gun fire, most theft, bombs, terrorists, chemical warfare, flooding of my home, and much, much more. There is still crime here, but the numbers are extremely low and the crimes themselves are less violent. I feel as if weight has been lifted and I can live with less fear. Sure, I am in the path of hurricanes, Dengue Fever, and volcanoes, but these scares are not the daily fears of living in the US. It makes me wonder how free we really are.
10-20-05 Protest. Yesterday, my plan was to go into town and visit the fresh water lake. I was really looking forward to hanging out with my friends, swimming, and a light hike. The night before we began hearing word about a protest over the condition of the roads. The roads connecting my area to the main town is really horrendous. Holes that can swallow a car whole are common. The next day we rose early to try to beat out the blockade that would soon shut down the road. We didn't make it it in time. Once we reached the last bridge leading out of my village we saw stones laid out blocking the path as well as a steal chain and lock. As we turned back the busses began to line up to block the road further. My day was cancelled. Still, I am glad that the population of this nation take so much interest in their political process. They do not have unions per say, but often unite to overcome obstacles. I admire that very much. Instead, I took to throwing my host mother a surprise party with her daughter for her birthday. The daughter reminds me so much of myself when I was a kid. Making sure everything was perfect so that her mother would be pleased. We made two juices, cake, and a mixture of snickers and nuts. It turned out to be a glorious day.
10-21-05 Storms. Today I awoke to a gloriously rainy and overcast day. I have come to really appreciate the clouds because they make the weather bearable. I am not drenched from sweet by ten am. I went to a CCF meeting and listened as the participants learned more about child development and discussed issues that arose in the field. It was interesting , but I longed to return to the house and read in the coolness of my back porch. The electricity was out, but no big deal because I had five hours until sun down and figured it should be back on by then. I returned home and enjoyed the weather and my book. 2, 3, 4 and still no electricity. The wind howled and sky seemed to drip rain. I realized I should prepare for an electricity free night. I laid everything out, toothbrush, pills, pajamas and proceeded to bathe. This way I would not be taking a shower in the dark or searching for items needed to sleep. It is becoming a routine that I mind little if it means a day without the scorching sun and ninety degree weather. I sat on the coach and listened as my host family spoke of the storm. The wind had destroyed much of the banana trees already and if the wind continues who knows the damage that would be inflicted. On top of that, all of the food in the refrigerator would go bad- an economic hardship that is hard to overcome when you have little and the only way to get more food is to go to town, a day long affair. This made me realize that even though there is much more to loose when a great storm like Katrina hits the US, a small depression can truly effect the small amount of assets one has in a poor nation like Dominica.
10-22-05 Relationships. I finally put my finger on the source of the constant sorrow that lays in my gut. It is a feeling that is not nearly as intense as depression, but slowly eats away at my being. When you join the Peace Corps you agree to leave everything behind- friends, family, home, customs, and even parts of your self, your identity. It is the one part of the Peace Corps experience I could not prepare myself for. I realize as I lay at night and think of loved ones and joyful memories that I have never been far from people who love me unconditionally. Whether my parents, friends, or family members, I have always had that warm blanket of positive relationships. These still flower, but their sent and beauty seem impossibly far away. For once in my life I do not return home at the end of the day to someone who really gets me and truly and deeply cares for me. I am essentially alone in the company of many. This is only accentuated by the cultural differences between myself and Dominicans. It will take even longer to foster close knit relationships with people from this nation than with individuals in the US. Other Peace Corps will be a blessing, but I see less and less of them. I long for a hug or an embrace of almost any nature. I find myself day dreaming about walks in Chicago and drinks in Boston with friends. I agonize over the thought of going on my families annual trip to Saugatuck. I would give just about anything to be sitting in my aunt's kitchen eating cheese, drinking wine, and talking. I have been so blessed in my memories and hope that I will soon find relationships and memories here that I will look back upon in the same manor. I miss everyone so much and I love you all.
10-24-05 Tears. I woke up this morning crying. You have probably noticed that my writings have become more and more sad. Since I woke up I have not been able to get myself to stop crying. I am miserable. I want to go home, lay down in my bed, and sleep until I can no longer keep my eyes shut. Then I want to take a hot shower, eat banana pancakes with nuts and syrup that my dad made just for me, and head out to Chicago to see my city and all of its glory. I want to get behind the wheel of my Tracker and drive with the window cracked on an icy brisk but sunny day down Lake Shore Drive. A street that has been part of my happiness since I left for college. Either returning me to my family or bringing me to fun times and education. I want to see the GO SOX that I know is on the diamond building. I want to drive down Michigan Ave and feel at home and unnoticed amongst the crazy traffic and skyscrapers. Then I will to retire to walk the streets of the Halsted District with friends and shop for second hand clothes and discuss politics and social welfare. I want to eat at one of the many wonderful restaurants and take the L to the North side apartment I used to reside in. Then I want to go to a movie in Evanston and retire with take out Mexican food from the best Mexican restaurant in Chicago. Finally, I would eat a gallon of cookie dough ice cream picking out all of the dough and eating all in one scoop. During this whole time I would be surrounded by my parents, my family, my friends from Chicago, and my friends from Boston. These are the types of things that make me happy. These are all of the things I cannot do here in a culture that is far different. I know I am spoiled- all Americans are, but I am just having an awful time without these constant though small joys in my life. I cant stop reliving all the good times I have had and wishing, praying that I was doing them right now. Other Peace Corps tell me I have to give it at least six months before I make a decision to stay or go. I will do just that- Its been a month and a half, I just hope it gets better. Maybe, once I am actually doing work it will be better. For now, I just need to figure out how to stop crying, they don't like tears here.
10-27-05 Stalker, Series, World , Independence, and the Three Musketeers. By the title of this entry you can probably tell a lot has happened since three days ago. First of all, my nervous break down is over. I am feeling a lot better now that I have reminded myself why I am here and have become closer to a few people. The real reason I had the break down is a mix of homesickness, anxiousness to work, and a fear of my own mortality. So the stalker situation really sucks. Most men here take a women's kindness to mean they are interested in sex. One man who is also a bit mentally disabled has decided he will marry me, take me to his garden, and deliver me from Zion. Most have just laughed about it, but it got back to the Peace Corps. He follows me places sometimes. Its hard for me not to be nice to anyone who is basically a stranger, but I guess with men I am going to have learn how. The White Sox won the World Series!!! I haven't mentioned it until now because I didn't want to jinx it. It hasn't quite hit because I haven't been able to see the games. I just woke up early the next morning and turned on ESPN to watch for results and highlights. I cant believe I am missing it- its such a dream of mine. Its really a sacrifice that hurts greatly to make. I just hope they do it again two years from now when I return- the new dynasty. Independence season is here. Wednesday I went to Creole in the park, today I went to my primary school's festival, and tomorrow I will return to Creole in the Park and at night, the World Creole Music Festival. Fun Fun. So to celebrate all of this wonderful stuff my host sister (who is amazing as always) and I rented Three Musketeers and ate peanut butter crackers with Cat's Cookies (for people) from Trader Joes that my best friend sent me. What a day, week, and hopefully, weekend.
11-4-05 Moved in. So I have not written because my last week has been packed full of packing, and moving. I am officially residing at my own place. It is a spacious two bedroom with no oven and no fridge currently. I am excited to get a fridge and start cooking. Yesterday, my new friend and I spent the day out and about. We went to town expecting to see the independence parade, but arrived as it was ending. So we bought some food and headed to Scott's head. On the way we stopped by a hidden spot where the movie Pirates of the Caribbean was taped. It was amazing to see most of the set still in tact. I have to return to take pictures. Then we snorkeled at Scott's Head. Home to corals and many fish. To rinse off the salty water we drove to the hot springs and took a sulfery bath. It felt good in the cool rain. Finally, we returned to Roseau and went to the cultural gala, an event with music and traditional dance and costumes. One dance, the Belle is absolutely amazing. There are two dancers that play out an amazingly fast dance to drums. They seem to control the beat with their bodies. The dance ends with the dancers coming together and ending the drum beat by hitting or kicking, or sitting on the main drum. Amazingly beautiful and passionate. Far from other traditional ballroom type dances. The day was amazing and I know my friendship will increase. I also helped run a project for the National Day of Service. Just as in the US the students needed constant pushes and did as little as possible. Still, it was a good day. I also went to a meeting about starting a local radio station for my village and area. This will be taken up by youth and will be a great experience. So far life alone is lonely, but busy.
11-6-05 My day. My day was a typical Sunday. I went to church (this time Pentecostal), stopped by my host family's home for a chat and some food, and then retired to reading Peace Corps materials and doing mental exercises. There is one thing to say about the Peace Corps, no matter how much you seem to work you always have a lot of free time on your hands. So my book list is growing, my vocab expanding, and my lack of knowledge of world events abating.
11-7-05 Projects. Today I went for a long walk in the morning. I like to scale the hills before the sun has burned the air so that you cook just stepping out of your home. Before the sun bakes the earth, the wind blows and the trees and hills are moist and inviting. I walk for over an hour going up and down along a quite road side. The views that pop out of the trees on the tops of hills are breathtaking and the coolness at the bottom is refreshing. I like these walks because it is quite, I can think, I can rest yet exercise. It relieves stress in the mind and body. This morning I tried to think of nothing I missed, no one I longed to hug, or the heat that was slowly creeping into my blissful morning. I tried to think only of the future, the projects that will surely make or break my Peace Corps experience. Am I daring enough, intelligent enough, and have enough fate and luck on my side to undertake something truly worth while. I have so many ideas: an environmental club at the Secondary, a one-on-one tutoring program at the Primary, computer classes, life-skills classes, fixing up the library, Big Brother/ Big Sister, a hiking/ nature club, help with the new radio station, doing a writing or drumming contest, helping with the Village Council, and so many more. So how do I start, how do I decided, how can I tell what will work and what will fail. All have their supporters and critics. All will face great hurdles. All are greatly needed. After my walk I went to the Secondary School to help out with a class of students whose reading levels are so spread out its hard to know where to begin. To give you an idea, the teacher sends me with eight out of the thirty something students. Out of those eight, one is pre-pre reading (doesn't know ABCs), one is pre-reading (knows ABCs but not how to put them into words), two are at a first grade reading level, one at a second, two at third grade, and one has a hearing and speaking impediment but otherwise at a fourth grade reading level. These are just eight of the thirty something. So I have to teach letters, sounds, words, sentences and everything in-between all at the same time. It is so frustrating. Then I went to my KFC meeting where 24 students showed up for pizza and movie about the end of times. Before it ended, there was a fight and a girl disclosed information to me that was greatly disturbing. So many issues and only one me! Which are going to make the most impact? Which are the truly important issues? Which are sustainable? Which will reach these children I know so little about? How do I know? I finished the day by going to the ocean with my friends who are more frustrated about these issues then me. We swam and then hung out at their bar by the sea. A good end to a long day. I hope the answers come. I am only comforted by the thought that no matter what programs my community, community partners, and I choose, they can only help, even if only a little.
11-8-05 Bad Pickle Day. I had a truly bad day today. But this wasn't one of my- violin in the background, dark cloud following me, screaming "why me" kind of bad days. No, it was a situational all around, no matter the culture, bad day. So in a way, it was a step up. Anyways, my day began with the timely death of my iron, followed by a frantic pursuit of anything I owned that was not wrinkled. I then scampered down the never ending, sweat producing, twenty minute hill to the Secondary school. I already knew it would be a terrible and long day. I just had to remind myself- Mac and cheese for lunch, Mac and Cheese for lunch- the Blue Box! I sat in the office waiting for time to expire before my first class when the teacher who lent me gloves and machetes for the clean-up day on Friday appeared. "Do you have the missing glove"? "Um, no, it was not returned?", I replied knowing the answer already. "No, this is why I didn't want to give it to you in the first place". "Um, well I will talk to the principle about..." "Talk to who"? "The principle, I have no way to get a hold of those kids". "FINE". "I am sure a child just didn'...". No use, he was gone and I was vexed. It was his big idea to give me the stuff and it was only one glove- ill give him the five bucks! Well, off to classes. The first two went well. The third was a disaster. This is the same class I told you about above (every child at a different level). They were nuts. I quit. Ok, I cant quit and I didn't, and it got better, but still the teacher was not happy. But who cares because its Mac n Cheese time, blue box style. I sped slowly up the hill in mid day scorching sun. Dripping from head to toe, my landlord set up my gas and I got ready to cook a dish made in heaven. Except one problem, no fridge, no butter, no Mac n Cheese. Ok, well that figures. I cook instead, because I refuse to not use my new appliance, oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar. Yum, time for my mid day shower! The only time the freezing cold water feels marvelous. Clug, shug, phis, no water! To summarize the rest I went to the Primary School and had to tell the principle about what the little girl disclosed to me yesterday and teach children who would just not be taught. I guess the youth still are on Independence vacation. So, all in all, (what does that mean?) I had a pickle of a day! Green, bumpy, slimy, and stinky. At least, tomorrow I will get a need break.
11-16-05 Alone. I know my daily activities or lack there of is more interesting to read. The thought of progress, of getting things done drives the American mind. But tonight I am driven to skip these steps to integration, these actions of purpose. I instead must write about those feelings, emotions that lingers steadfast behind every action and every word I utter in my quest. By day my actions are pressured by the need to succeed, the drive to meet one's goals. At night, these feelings leave and what is left is a feeling I cannot completely comprehend. I felt it once before- sophomore year of college. I moved dorm rooms to escape a slightly crazy roommate and dead rat and found myself for the first time ever, living alone. All alone- well, no American is ever truly alone, we have our internet, TV, phones. Actually, we have come to a point were being alone is almost impossible. Our cell phones follow us everywhere, TVs talk to us in almost every room in the house and now the car, and even in the bathroom we have connected water proof radios. It is ironic that in such an independently minded nation we no longer can be alone. Anyways, back to college. Sitting in my dorm dealing with the recent break-up with my first true love- I felt it. I feel it again as I stand in front of my mirror brushing my teeth. It is the feeling that comes with the realization that the ground could swallow you whole, tooth brush and all, and no one would know. In the book I am reading it says something like- reality is only a dream that many people share together. Well if that is the case then I know what this feeling is. It's living in a lack of reality. I can do anything and no one would know. I feel myself doing what I did back sophomore year of college, failing to cry. My loneliness begins a stir of empty space in my gut, it grows like a vine up my throat, and pushes at the back of my eyes. I go to cry but only a squeak manages its way out from between my lips. Why? Well why cry when only cement walls can hear. They offer no comfort, no response. Crying alerts a mother you need a hug, a friend you need a joke, or a partner you need to be held. And so, I do what any American would do, I search for company. I turn on my computer only to remember I have no internet, I search for the remote for the invisible TV, I put on my MP3 player until Jewel and Twista can no longer comfort me. Again, I am alone- in an apartment sucked dry of reality. Every American's hidden weakness confronts me- myself stripped even of ambitions, stripped and alone, utterly and completely alone.
11-17-05 (TWO Months as a volunteer!). I am starting to hate to write entries because they are always the same- complaints and loneliness. But I want the reader to know that I know things will get better. Maybe in a month, maybe in six my life will again revolve around excitement. The excitement of getting something done, of new friends, of helping or supporting someone, of growing as a person. When I have a project started and maybe even just one success. This is when I will again return to being the energetic and passionate me. I feel it starting, poking through my sadness. I just need to find my grove and then run. And I will run and I will succeed, grow, and be happy.
11-26-05 Thanks. I have had a wonderful week! Monday and Tuesday were wonderful days spent in my community doing work. Wednesday I went to a fellow PCVs home and baked pies. It was a blast. We talked until well into the night/ morning about our lives back in the states and how we are doing here in Dominica. I am getting the feeling that just as I am beginning to feel at home and become happy here, the rest of the group is going through doubts and bad times. They are following the pattern our trainers in St. Lucia laid out as the typical emotional up and downs while I am way off. This realization makes my sadness feel less sad and my current comfort more comfortable. Thursday, Thanksgiving, we woke to the Macy Day Parade (she has Cable). We watched as people wearing mittens, scarves, and winter jackets carried oversized balloons down 34th street. It almost made me feel cold. I closed my eyes and pictured myself in my living room with the smells and sounds of Thanksgiving clogging my senses. The snow kissing trees and earth outside the window making the artificial warmth on my skin feel pleasant and soft instead of the sticky and heavy warmth of summer. For just a small moment, I was home prepared to spend a day cooking, decorating, and eating with those I love. I could hear my father's treadmill going as he attempts to loose the Thanksgiving pounds before they even arrive and the clunking of cabinets, pots, and plates as my mother scurries about the kitchen. I can taste the chips and dip always used to satisfy hunger as we cooked. I imagined how I would decorate the table, my annual duty since I was young. I remembered one year when I placed Thanksgiving trolls about the table. I also remember the Thanksgiving I told my father that I was engaged. Finally, I can hear the football game echoing from the family room, playing for no one in particular. I always felt it was odd it was on since it was the only time all year my father watched a game- perhaps a tradition from his own childhood. Before the first half ended my father would be asleep, pretending to be awake.
This year was the first year my senses filled with new sounds and sights, but familiar tastes. The pies we made completely from scratch (crust and all) and I will never go back to pre-made. About thirty-five Americans gathered at an American restaurant owners home bring deserts and sides. She made the turkey, stuffing, potatoes, and other usuals. It was fantastic. The food and company hit the spot. It still was strange to be wearing a tank-top and skirt outside on Thanksgiving, but everything else screamed the holiday. We retired to another Peace Corps home and slept off the food and drink, happy we could have a bit of America in Dominica, even if only for a day. Even though this was a great Thanksgiving, I really miss spending it with my family, I missed them even more than usual. As I thought of all things I was thankful for this year, the list began with their names.
12-16-05 Joy. So I have not written because everything is taking off. For the last two weeks I have had guests on the weekends, and a lot of work during the week. School is out, but I still have meetings, conferences, and events to attend. This last week I attended a conference on behavior Change Communication (BCC)/ HIV. It was beneficial in that my community partner that I brought became very enthusiastic to start a project on HIV/AIDS. Actually, I know have a whole list of projects I am starting for the new year: women's empowerment HIV workshop/ support group, an environmental club/ radio club at the secondary school, a writing workshop for the secondary students, computer classes for the primary school, helping to organize and get a grant for the literacy center at the primary school, a youth support network, working with the Village Council on events and projects, doing adult literacy one on one, swimming lessons, SAT tutoring, and helping with the Dominicans Against Drugs group. Wow that is a lot when I write it all down. I am very excited to begin and am having more and more great days. I feel like I am home- finally. I have so much joy in my gut both because everything is going well and because I am not depressed anymore. I have become very close to another PCV as well as my community partner. In fact, last night we wrapped presents together, made dinner, and watched a movie until very late at night. On the walk back the moon glowed and lit the town. The clouds seem illuminated and a cool breeze soothed the air. We stared into the sky in awe of its natural beauty. I fell happy, full of joy- still missing home, but also at home.
Hike to a mini Lake Michigan. One hike I accomplished this week was the Fresh water lake. A group of three other PCVs and a Canadian volunteer came along. Within the first two minutes my hiking sandals got stuck in the mud and broke. I had a choice, return and sit around for a few hours while my friends pressed on, or do the hike Dominican style- barefoot. I, being the hardcore moron that I am , chose the second. I hiked for three hours over pointy rocks, through streams, and mud to get to the only two fresh water lakes in Dominica. At the end I stared at the lake and laughed. My companions asked what was so funny. I said it was so ironic that I bruised and scraped up my feet to see the only sight in Dominica that I could see everyday I looked out my window in Chicago! That will be the last time to that sight- even if everyone else thought it was amazing!
12-17-05 Three Month Mark! Integration is over! Today marks the last day of integration. So have I fully integrated into Dominica and my community? Of course not! It will take much longer to completely intertwine my identity with Dominica. Still, I have made great strides and overcome many fears. Some say that the integration period lasts until the end of 6 months, others a year, but for me I feel it doesn't matter. I have learned customs, language, culture, food, etiquette, slang, and so much more. This place has become my home and the people my friends, co-workers, and in some cases, my family. I am at ease and feel safe. I can now begin what I came here for, I can begin projects. I will continue to learn and integrate until the day I fly home one year and nine months from now. I am glad this period is over- it was hellish, depressing, and more mentally demanding than I could have ever imagined. Still, it went by in a flash- evidence my two years will go faster than I can imagine. Its time to bear down and force myself to use every spare minute, to hold onto time and stretch it, to enjoy every passing day. To celebrate I will be attending my Secondary School's Christmas dance tonight! Fun Fun- let the party begin.