Hello Readers
In the past five days, I have seen firsthand what I am going up against in the next two years, or at least a snapshot thereof. I've seen a student crying because he literally could not read and was absolutely terrified of school. I've seen another student unable to write a word down after it was spoken but who had managed to memorized the order, or the appearance, or something, of those same words when he saw them on a piece of paper. I've seen a teacher who clearly wanted to do something about these problems she faced and who wanted me to do something about them or help her. (despite the fact that I barely understood a word she was saying, only the gist, which I do not think I misinterpreted).
The DR is, on the whole, a wonderful place. I just finished taking a walk around my new Pueblo and now that I am not in the city, I can walk with only smiles and the occasional English come-on from a tiguere out to practice his lady charming or the occasional whistle/cat call. Not a single rubia, and there were days in Santo Domingo when I got to five rubias on a single walk. Rubia, for those who do not know Spanish, essentially means blonde chick, and the tigueres (a breed of young male which hangs out on street corners causing low-level mischief, rides motors, and looks for females with near-obessive levels of compulsion) love to shout it at me. When they are not hissing, whistling, or saying some things I prefer not to translate. I've learned "ni esquierda, ni derecho" which means neither left nor right, referring to the need to stare straight ahead and not pay the slightest bit of attention to what's being said of me in either direction.
However, here in the Pueblo, it hasn't happened nearly as much as it did in the barrios and capitol. I love that.
Instead of being harassed, I have other interesting experiences. Just this evening I was out on a stroll and studying the neighborhood, when I first encountered a woman who I'd met earlier in the day, we chatted a bit as we walked and then parted. A few minutes later I was walking down the street when I saw a group of people waving at me. One of them, a woman, looked American and I did not think I knew them, but they acted as if they knew me. So I went up and introduced myself and said I was with the Peace Corps and the older man, who was the American-ish woman's uncle, said I was always welcome at his house. They'd have me there yet chatting but I did not feel up to that with total strangers this particular night so I apologized and said my Dona was cooking supper so I needed to return home.
A bit of a lie, but also the most culturally appropriate one I could think of. To refuse outright would have been rude, but by putting my family relationships first I established myself as a nice young woman who could not imagine hurting her Dona's feelings. IE: a good person. However, as I was walking away I thought a bit harder and I am almost positive I have never met any of those people before. I was simply a stranger walking down the street they'd summoned over to say hello to, and I did the same thing without even thinking about it. I just crossed the street and stood on their porch and visited with them for a couple minutes.
If there is one thing I love about the Dominican Republic, it is that relaxed attitude about meeting people. People just sit on their porches and visit with anyone who happens to come near to them. It is really cool and something we in the United States should do more of. Except in winter of course. In winter it is just too blasted cold.
Another new thing about the Dominican Republic. On my walk I happened to pass down a new street and saw two cows chewing on grass in a vacant lot. This is campo, I thought. Then I thought again of how I might like a cow, except they are too big. I'd love to have fresh milk again though, hence the desire for a goat.
With that cheerful note I will sign off. Tomorrow I am going to visit my host mom's family. They live outside of the town, by a forest and a river near a lot of cows. Or maybe her family has cows. Either way, tomorrow I will see more cows. Should be a great time. Apparently there is a lot of space to play games there. I'd be happy about that, especially since I did not get to go to the farm with my family last weekend over Easter.
Todos buenos,
Lobolius
In the past five days, I have seen firsthand what I am going up against in the next two years, or at least a snapshot thereof. I've seen a student crying because he literally could not read and was absolutely terrified of school. I've seen another student unable to write a word down after it was spoken but who had managed to memorized the order, or the appearance, or something, of those same words when he saw them on a piece of paper. I've seen a teacher who clearly wanted to do something about these problems she faced and who wanted me to do something about them or help her. (despite the fact that I barely understood a word she was saying, only the gist, which I do not think I misinterpreted).
The DR is, on the whole, a wonderful place. I just finished taking a walk around my new Pueblo and now that I am not in the city, I can walk with only smiles and the occasional English come-on from a tiguere out to practice his lady charming or the occasional whistle/cat call. Not a single rubia, and there were days in Santo Domingo when I got to five rubias on a single walk. Rubia, for those who do not know Spanish, essentially means blonde chick, and the tigueres (a breed of young male which hangs out on street corners causing low-level mischief, rides motors, and looks for females with near-obessive levels of compulsion) love to shout it at me. When they are not hissing, whistling, or saying some things I prefer not to translate. I've learned "ni esquierda, ni derecho" which means neither left nor right, referring to the need to stare straight ahead and not pay the slightest bit of attention to what's being said of me in either direction.
However, here in the Pueblo, it hasn't happened nearly as much as it did in the barrios and capitol. I love that.
Instead of being harassed, I have other interesting experiences. Just this evening I was out on a stroll and studying the neighborhood, when I first encountered a woman who I'd met earlier in the day, we chatted a bit as we walked and then parted. A few minutes later I was walking down the street when I saw a group of people waving at me. One of them, a woman, looked American and I did not think I knew them, but they acted as if they knew me. So I went up and introduced myself and said I was with the Peace Corps and the older man, who was the American-ish woman's uncle, said I was always welcome at his house. They'd have me there yet chatting but I did not feel up to that with total strangers this particular night so I apologized and said my Dona was cooking supper so I needed to return home.
A bit of a lie, but also the most culturally appropriate one I could think of. To refuse outright would have been rude, but by putting my family relationships first I established myself as a nice young woman who could not imagine hurting her Dona's feelings. IE: a good person. However, as I was walking away I thought a bit harder and I am almost positive I have never met any of those people before. I was simply a stranger walking down the street they'd summoned over to say hello to, and I did the same thing without even thinking about it. I just crossed the street and stood on their porch and visited with them for a couple minutes.
If there is one thing I love about the Dominican Republic, it is that relaxed attitude about meeting people. People just sit on their porches and visit with anyone who happens to come near to them. It is really cool and something we in the United States should do more of. Except in winter of course. In winter it is just too blasted cold.
Another new thing about the Dominican Republic. On my walk I happened to pass down a new street and saw two cows chewing on grass in a vacant lot. This is campo, I thought. Then I thought again of how I might like a cow, except they are too big. I'd love to have fresh milk again though, hence the desire for a goat.
With that cheerful note I will sign off. Tomorrow I am going to visit my host mom's family. They live outside of the town, by a forest and a river near a lot of cows. Or maybe her family has cows. Either way, tomorrow I will see more cows. Should be a great time. Apparently there is a lot of space to play games there. I'd be happy about that, especially since I did not get to go to the farm with my family last weekend over Easter.
Todos buenos,
Lobolius
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