end of year hodge podge

You would think now that school is out I would've slowed down. But nooooo, just the opposite in fact! It's been even more hectic and busy as everyone's trying to make the most out of their last few weeks here

The day after the hooligans left for the summer we were off to Santoooo Domingoooo! The goal: Fashion Week. Now let me tell you something about inviting international designers from all over to showcase their beautiful designs in front of an adoring public. You have to tell the public. Due to a combination of faulty advertising and unhelpful information, our destinies were not realized. (Thanks DR.) Sad to say Oscar de la Renta missed his chance. I guess Gisele Bundchen gets one more year to monopolize the stage. But next time she'll have a cat fight on her hands for that cat walk.
After that disappointment we set our hearts on a visit to the embassy pool. (Yes, that's what your tax dollars are going to. Thanks!) There is a pool at the US Embassy here and we were told time and time again "It's fantastic!". Unfortunately everyone failed to mention that your passport is not sufficient for getting you in. Oh no, you have to be a government employee. How snooty! I mean, yeah so I didn't pay my taxes this year. (Don't worry Uncle Sam, I'm getting to it!) But come on! It's my pool! It is my right as an American citizen to be able to tan on US soil! I say this as a warning: don't be jaded. The first things they take from you when you leave the States are your pool privileges. And charm alone can't persuade those guards (though maybe Benjamin Franklin can...if you catch my drift...)

Then I was invited along with one of my students' families to the mountains, where they own TWO houses in gorgeous Los Montones. They invited me along for a day trip. Little did I know that "day trip" included tuxedoed waiters, covered lunches, rented inflatable gyms, top quality sound system dj-ing, and more people than my family reunions. And I thought we were going to spend a relaxing quiet day away from the city. But by no means am I hatin' on the upper class lifestyle ;) But they are such a welcoming, kind family. It was so nice to be invited along and told "mis casas son tus casas"

And then there was graduation. Here the big deal is kids either graduating from Kindergarten or 1st grade, because it is here that they learn to read. In fact, the ceremony is called "Ya se leer/I can read". And it's a big deal. Tuxedos, big frilly dresses, day long salon visits, limo rides. And that's just the kids. All the parents come with the extended family in tow, and the kids could not be more bored. During the 1 1/2 hr long presentation I saw them doing whatever possible to keep from falling asleep. Maybe that meant surfing up to the microphone. Maybe that meant tying the tassle around their nose. Maybe that meant using the sash as a hula hoop. Regardless-they were precious. And next year they're all mine! :D

In other news, it's sweaty season down here. You think it's hot where you are? You ain't got nothing on us in the DR

Despedidas

So. My first last day on the other side, as the teacher for once instead of the student.
How emotional!

The entire week just seemed sadder, as I kept thinking about how this would be the last time I would give them homework (yeah, they cried over that one too), the last time I would reprimand them for not being quiet in the library, the last time I would take away some of their recess time...

But I also started to realize just how much I'd come to love them. In reflecting on the year, I never would've stuck it out had I not just been completely enamored by them. There are one of the best classes in the school, and I'm so blessed to have had them. It's been a year filled with a lot of challenges and difficulties, but knowing that their smiling faces would be there to greet me the next day gave me strength. I came to teach them, yes, but more importantly I got to show them love, to show them that they matter. Not all of them are lucky enough to learn that from their parents. I knew I had to show up with my game on because their little hearts would be there just waiting to be filled. If they took away anything from the year, I hope they learned that they are special. I hold them all near and dear to my heart, and care about each of them greatly. The last poem I read to them really sums it up. (Some of the toughest 6 lines I've ever had to read!):

I'm glad I was your teacher
I've come to love you so.
I can't believe the end is here.
I hate to see you go.

Remember all the fun we had
in all the things we did
But most of all remember...
You're a Very Special Kid!

And in the end, turns out that they actually taught me! I learned about patience (ooooh did I learn about patience!); I learned about forgiveness; I learned about second "opportunities" (they never could get that word 'chance' down pat); I learned about big hugs; I learned all the songs to High School Musical 3...I learned about playing and positive attitudes and encouragement and always trying. Most importantly, I learned what really matters. The kind words and kisses
more than the big posters or neat handwriting. I am so grateful for my time with them. And what luck I have to get to do it all over again next year, with another beautiful class! :D

For our last week everyone brought in a white t-shirt and we signed them all with permanent markers, sort of a replacement yearbook. And they looooved it! It got to be such a fad that everyone in school starting signing their white school t-shirts (wonder what their moms thought when they came home like that...). I gave each of my students a silly award too, based on their personality. For some of them I had to get a liiiittle more creative-cutest human cat, most talented stuntman, loudest screamer, most agile desk gymnast. I also had everyone write one compliment about all their fellow classmates, and then I gave them each an envelope filled with these "Pats on the Back", so they could read these things and know some of the reasons why they are so special. I'm not so sure everyone understood the directions though, because Waldo got "beautiful earrings" at least 3 times...

While it may be the end of this year, I know that the memories of it all will last so much longer. And really it's not goodbye, because I'm coming baaaaaaaackkk!!!! 1st graders watch out...Teacher Lesa is ready with her yellow cards...

Becoming Jane Seymour

This past Saturday we headed to the mountain village of Jarabacoa for an exciting WATERFALL RAPPELLING ADVENTURE!!
Unfortunately that didn't happen. It has been raining here constantly for about a week, so the water level was too high and thus too dangerous for us to play Indiana Jones and the Cascada of Doom. Our backup adventure: horseback riding!

I must confess I had my doubts, considering the last horseback ride I went on in this country I have since blocked out from the pain and terror that accompanied it. My fears were not alighted when an employee of the company stopped us on the way to the "stables" to give us his idea of a useful warning- "Two people died yesterday at the waterfall you're going to, so I'm just saying. Maybe try to be careful."
Maaaybe

There were 6 of us, plus 3 young boys who would serve as our "guides" (all under the ages of 11), and 1 creepster ringleader. I'm not quite sure what vibe I was putting out but the head guide asked if I would like one of the boys to ride with me. I got a little offended and said "Of course not! I'm fine! I can do this! It's easy!" but then 5 minutes later and I'm still trying to get my horse started. So up comes my backseat driver. And I swear that little boy was up to something. He and my horse "Black Brown" were in cahoots, I know it. Apparently their egos would not let them be at the back of the herd, and their need for speed meant that we cantered up the entire mountain. And again back down through the forest. As we tore full speed over rocks and galloped headlong into rushing rivers and ducked underneath branches hanging precariously low, someone in the group came up with a "Jane Seymour in an emergency" analogy, and it fit perfectly.

Jarabacoa is one of my favorite cities here, and even when flying through it like a blur, the natural beauty all around is still so stunning.

And now I have an excuse to come back-waterfall rappelling adventure try #2!

n.e.r.d.

Last Friday I was approached by my director about an opportunity to take a continuing education Masters class for ESL teachers- starting the following Monday (as in 3 days later). The every ready student inside of me freaked thinking of my unpreparedness-the books yet unbought, the pencils yet unsharpened, and the first day of school outfit yet unpurchased. I was nervous about the idea of having to do homework again, having to read long passages on complex subjects I couldn't begin to understand, and having to stay awake until the wee hours cramming for tests. But more than anything, I was excited! I guess deep down I'll always be a nerd :)

Anyways, I needn't have worried because so far none of it has turned out to be too intensive. It also didn't turn out to be a course for ESL teachers! However I'm still gathering helpful suggestions for developing childrens' writing skills and how to encourage bookworm behavior.

One of my favorite parts about the class: coffee break! Being a nation that thrives on the production and consumption of coffee, I've come to notice that coffee breaks are a good as DR law. Middle of the afternoon like clockwork (whatever that phrase means in a country that doesn't believe in punctuality) jobs come to a screeching halt as everyone gets out their white ceramic cups and big bowls of sugar (no milk) and sips away. For our class' break they also put out some snacks on silver doiley-lined trays. That was the first time I have ever seen Sour Cream & Onion Pringles looking so fancy. I guess since most of the students in the class are American they're trying to make us feel right at home.

Being in the class has made me really excited about learning how to be a more effective teacher and implementing some of the strategies in my classroom. My students next year won't know what hit 'em! :)

It keeps getting better

And then there was Haiti!

I have been wanting to go to Haiti ever since I've arrived. I'm not sure why it has such a pull over me, but I've been itching to go over and have my eyes opened and my soul awakened to the reality of the world. I certainly see my share of poverty and destitution here in the Dominican Republic, but I've been curious to see what it looks like in the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. The corruption, instability, lack of resources, and poor governance make it a country that many people are afraid of. So many people have written it off as a lost cause. But I have met plenty of missionaries and volunteers who have served over there who think otherwise. Yes it is a country crippled and wounded by years of mismanagement and abandonment. But that does not mean its' people do not have something to offer. If anything they are to be admired for their resilience. In 1937 the cruel Dominican dictator Trujillo ordered the Parsley Massacre in which 17-35,000 Haitians were killed at the border over a span of 5 days. And today Haitians continue to be given the short end of the straw especially in the Dominican Republic where they are sorely discriminated against, being denied rights, work, money, and especially respect.

Check out this compelling trailer:
http://www.thepriceofsugar.com/trailer.shtml

I wanted to see it all with my own eyes.

The ride there shouldn't take as long as it did, but as we got closer to the Haitain border we found the roads to be in deteriorating condition, slowing down our progress. Buses there don't run often, and when they do they are jam packed stuffed to the brim with mainly Haitians and a few other adventure seeker types. Which explains why by the time we got there the only bus running back to Santiago in the afternoon was already full. (Flashback to our resourceful guagua catching skills!)

On Mondays and Fridays there is a market, and for those days they open the border and allow goods to be traded back and forth freely. It was crowded with people both shopping and selling; the merchandise was spilling into the streets as people "opened shop" wherever there was an extra foot of space; everything imaginable could be found somewhere in the maze. Dishware. Shoes. Hair barrettes. Purses. Perfume. Rice. Bleach. Eyeshadow. Comforters. Potato chips. Hats. Soap. Pants. Suitcases. Stuffed animals. Gatorade. All brought in bulk and carried in wagons or on heads.
Sidenote: The sheer amount of weight those women can put on their heads is astounding enough in and of itself to deserve a sidenote! Though by far my favorite sight of the day was women who walked around with one Converse sneaker carefully balanced on their head as a way of advertising what style they were carrying. Not a bad business practice!

Along the way I somehow managed to pick up a little girl who latched onto me after I took her picture selling bananas. She never once asked me for money or anything, but seemed just more intrigued by my light skin and pregnant bookbag belly (our solution to pickpocketers). She stayed close, and whenever I would turn around to check if she was still there she was always just a step away with a shy smile on her face. After a while I remembered the apple I had put in my bookbag for a snack and I took it out and gave it to her.
I've never before seen someone look so proud to have an apple.
Another girl bathing in the muddy river saw us and climbed up to ask for money. I had a package of crackers that I gave her and that seemed to satisfy her. As I was walking away I took a quick glance back and just had to stop as I saw her ripping open the plastic bag with her teeth. I had never before considered that saltines could be seen by some as precious.

Over 1/2 of the people we saw weren't wearing any shoes. In some parts the stench was overbearing and made me want to gag. The prices for everything were so low, and I realized that the people were willing to accept any amount of money. Because something is better than nothing.
Everybody was working. Everybody was bustling about.

Even just looking at the border, at the bridge uniting Haiti and the Dominican Republic, you could see the different worlds on both ends. On the DR side, a building, an office, a concrete structure. On the Haiti side, dust, a crumbling pile of rocks. Nothing much.

How did I not see how privileged we are? How can it be that we are so blessed when others live in such poverty?
My heart spills over for them.

3 Day Weekends Make My Life (2 parter!)

So last weekend was a long weekend because May 1st was Labor Day, so they gave us Monday off. The plan was to go wild and crazy for our last 3 day weekend of the year, but in true Dominican fashion that fell through. Determined to make the most of our time off, I arranged to go with a friend on 2 day trips, one to the smaller beach side town of Monte Cristi and the other to the Haitian border at Dajabon.
We ended up adding a side trip to the sleepy town of Copey (population: 10, shack total: 2) when we were incorrectly informed by a fellow bus passenger "Monte Cristi is here! Get off at this stop!". We hurriedly banged our way over the suitcases and people littering the aisle (I myself had been one of those unfortunate persons earlier, apparently having only paid for an armrest instead of a whole seat...) and bounded off the bus. And as the bus pulls away a sign is revealed. Ciudad: Copey. AKA not at all where we had been headed. And then we were enveloped in a cloud of dust.
But we took being butt lost in stride, and with our amazing resourcefulness and guagua (the name for public buses here) flagging down skills, managed to make it to our original destination.

I feel like I'm jipping you out of a description, but all I can say is Monte Cristi is beautiful. It was unlike any other town I've been to so far. I think everyone had fled elsewhere for the holiday, so the town felt half asleep. It is dry and flat, and tall grass stretches for miles and miles over land occasionally dotted with an abandoned housing construction venture here or there. There are some salt farms scattered on roads along the shore, and driving by those will really give you a big whiff of that salty sea air smell! My guidebook (never leave home without it!) had recommended this picturesque hostel for lunch, and the whole time we just kept wondering "Where are all the people?!". They don't know what they missed! It was the most idyllic little place, so quiet and peaceful and hidden from everything. A perfect contemplative retreat spot.
Nearby is the only unflat part of Monte Cristi-El Morro. Monte Cristi is surrounded by a national park on 3 sides, and El Morro is a huge hill located within the park. There are stairs leading up El Morro, but those caved in 2002. And we're still waiting on that repair job...

So there is a second option, a smaller hill located just across the way. This is the location of the "8 Stations of the Cross". The name was confusing to me-essentially there is a dry winding and rocky path leading up the cliff and along the way there are 8 crosses that mark the trail. And when you get to the top?

Wow.

All I could think was Grand Canyon meets Atlantic Ocean. Standing a hundred feet up looking out over waves crashing against enormous rock formations, the song "God of Wonders" drifted into my head.

God of Wonders beyond our galaxy...
The universe declares your Majesty
You are holy, holy

The scraggly bushes, arid landscape, and rusty crosses made the scene seem half dead but in reality I felt so alive! I'm convinced you will never see a bluer ocean anywhere else than in the DR. We couldn't think of anything more rewarding to do during our time there except to just sit and soak it all in.

And as fun as I'm sure Copey would've been, we were really happy that we hadn't missed this.

Oh so innocent

Today in class somehow the subject of Halloween came up. Now Halloween isn't really celebrated here, and especially not the going door to door asking for candy part of it, so I was quite surprised when one of my students started shouting out the classic "Trick or Treat" rhyme.

Trick or Treat
Smell my feet
Give me something good to eat
If you don't
I don't care
I'll go to another place

I certainly opened their eyes a little when I slipped up and revealed that that's not really how the song ends...