Originally Composed 10/31/07
Foreword: I wrote this email as a draft a few days ago, before we got any real word on the weather situation. Apparently, in the areas of lower elevation, like Santo Domingo, and some other cities, there has been flooding, and three of our brothers have died...the last I heard, the others that were reported missing have been located. But I know that the branch will come out with information that is much more accurate and up to date than what I can report. These things feel so different when they happen physically near to you, than when you just read about them. Believe me. I know you will keep their families-and us, because they say the water might come back harder later this week-in your prayers. I hope the weather report is wrong... we did have a bit of sun today. We'll see what happens. Just know that your Dominican brothers are as fiery and spirited as ever-I love these people.
My dear friend Jonathan informed me this past Monday that the island of Hispaniola, on which the Dominican Republic is located, is currently experiencing a tropical storm. Apparently, some people have been reported dead or missing. And here
I am, having been on the DR's northern coast for a little over a week now, and I had no idea. I just know it's wet, wet, wet-when the rain comes down, it sounds as if a huge bucket's being poured on the roof of where we are. It had been raining on and off since last week, but since it's been pretty much nonstop for the last couple of days. It's slippery in places as a result, and I fell twice in one day last week, once in the morning in the middle of the town square, when Natalie and I were hustling to catch a bus, and again on the balcony when I got home that same afternoon. Both are paved with smooth stone, and I guess the flip-flops I wore were too flat. Slippery ground +flat flip-flops=me, face down on the ground, with a pink and black floral print backpack still strapped to my back, muttering a muffled, "I'm ok!" The mental picture still cracks me up, so go ahead, have fun with it. I didn't get hurt too badly, I sustained a sore arm and hurt pride, but that's about it. Before Natalie could even help me up the first time I fell, a guy screeched his bike to a halt, jumped off, and helped me off the ground. (I guess Dominican guys aren't discriminatory about klutzy girls, because the same guy tried to hit on me later that day. That's the last time I let anybody help me up here.) The winds are strong, and our little town has flooded in places, but I'm telling you, I really wouldn't have thought anything of it had I not been told that there was a tropical storm. I guess it really is true that ignorance is bliss…but at the same time I'm glad to know, because things might worsen, so I can use this as a heads-up so we can prepare ourselves if things do get serious, and so that I can remember to pray for our brothers in other parts of the island that were more adversely affected, like in the Capital, where they have poor drainage and lower elevation. I have to say, I'm a little disappointed about the change in the weather (thought it is far from cold here-I still have no need for a jacket). It makes service tough some days, and its also a challenge to go, well, anywhere, because everywhere we go we walk, unless somebody has a motoconcho, and that still does little to help me, because I don't care if I have seen whole families riding on one bikes around town, I'm not in denial about being an Amazon girl. If Natalie has already hopped on back of the bike, I'm not getting on, because I refuse to be the reason that we're moving too slow. But I am still enjoying myself, as the weather is not what I came for, and I am reminded of that every time I get to speak to an appreciative person in the ministry, attend a meeting, or spend time getting to know the brothers and sisters here.
I am so impressed by how these brothers and sisters persevere in the midst of the poverty here-it completely shames and humbles me. Everybody is willing to share what little he or she has. Even the locals are like that. In service last Saturday, in the gorgeous, grassy, coastal pueblo of Baoba, where cows roam freely and wild turkeys run around looking at you as if you're the one that looks funny (or maybe that only happened to me), I met a 90-year-old woman who lives in a one-room shack, but she still didn't hesitate to invite me in. Dominicans are very proud of their island. They know what they have in the sense that this is one of the last paradisaic places on earth, and won't hesitate to tell you how sorry they are for you for not being from here. Then you get the people living in shanty homes with dirt floors, but have flat-screen TV's and iPods. Appearance is important-I've seen some people who wear the same outfit every time you see them, but that outfit is clean and pressed-and EVERY GIRL HAS HER HAIR DONE! That is not an exaggeration, and I have even begun to feel a bit self-conscious about my wild curls. But back to the brothers and sisters, who are a bit more balanced in priorities. We were at the Kingdom Hall on Thursday for the School and Service Meeting, and the power went out. We were without light and sound for about 45 seconds before everything was up and running again, because the brothers set up a generator system using-of all things-a car battery. I love Jehovah's Witnesses! We always have a plan. Last night the Martinez family had us over for a pig roast. They set up a makeshift rotisserie in an open field in the concrete frame of what looked like was formerly a house, and had the swine turning on a big stick over a fire (pictures below). When it was done, we went back to the house where they sliced it up and served it with rice, plantains, and yucca. Their humble home felt like a mansion, so rich with people and happy sounds. I tend to relish in my privacy these days, but being here makes me see that we really do need to create more opportunities to be with the brothers while it is relatively easy to do so. It'll be harder to do that as the system winds down. Easy access to TV, Internet, or the ability to just hop in the car or on public transportation to do things, even just the convenience of having a bedside lamp that you know will turn on when you flip the switch, making staying in bed with a good book on a rainy day all the more easy to do, are all great things that I look forward to utilizing upon my return, but they can also cause us to withdraw from one another and remain in our own respective worlds if we don't make the effort not to. Life is so much richer when good friends are included in it.
At this time, I would really like to highlight the importance of camping. What does this have to do with the chronicles of my island adventure? Well, I had previously completely underestimated my survival skills, but necessity has proven me to be more savage than I thought I was, and I think that years of camping trips have helped in that. For one thing, I have become quite skilled at doing things by candlelight or with no light at all. I am now the Grand Master of cooking on the gas stove and oven (I think lighting it is my favorite part-and no, I am not a pyromaniac). That may not be a big deal to some, but these are not the gas stoves that many of us are used to-think gas stove, the year I was born. Yeah. We have this primitive little washing machine that we have to carry to the bathtub, full with water, add soap to, then start, at which point it agitates the clothes to wash them, switch to the drain valve to get rid of the dirty water, then refill the washer again with plain clean water to rinse everything. There is no spin cycle, so everything is taken out by hand, and wrung out. I just keep telling myself how toned my arms will be when I come home. It is such a low-power washer that a lot of things are just better off washed by hand, which I do. The nice part is hanging everything out on the clothesline to dry. It hangs over our balcony, so going out there and hanging things, while looking at the goings-on of the barrio and greeting the neighbors has something of a novel, romantic appeal. (I'm a nerd. You knew that already.)
Its two weeks until my payday, so I am definitely eating like a local right now. I have mastered the art of beans, rice and plantains (which I have to say I make pretty well, for being a Bay Area girl). Unless somebody has us over to eat, that's been dinner-for breakfast we have eggs, yogurt, salami, and fruit. Last Wednesday we splurged (spending about $12 between the two of us) by going out for pizza and beer at a restaurant in town called Chorri Pan. I think it's the best pepperoni pizza I've had, plus they make this garlic paste to dip it in that is "crazy delicious," as Nat would say. But mostly, we eat really simply. You can get pretty good fruit and vegetables around here, and cheaply at that. But they have to be washed with soap and bleached first, which we've been doing as we buy things. A lot of things are hard to get here in town, so we went to San Francisco de Marcorís, where they have a Super Wal-Mart-like store called La Sirena, and they have EVERYTHING. Next time I come out here I won't pack so much stuff, especially not toiletries or beauty products, because they even have an Esteé Lauder counter there. It's about an hour's trip on the bus, but it's worth it, because you can find a wider variety of packaged food items (my cherished find: Aunt Jemima pancake mix) or fresh vegetables and meats that you don't have to be as concerned about eating as what is sold locally, lots of cleaning products and housewares like we have at home, and they have clothes and electronics, too. I'll probably go back before the assembly in December and grab some cheap shoes or something.
A couple of interesting experiences:
1) Natalie and I have been trying to get the early-morning street work ball rolling out here (so far its just me and her, but maybe some of the teenagers will jump on the bandwagon while they're off on holiday or something. Anyway, we go sit on the park benches and talk to people passing by. It is amazing how people are about all things Bible-related here. The first time we did it, a sister visiting from Santiago showed us how they do it in the city, and it's so easy. All we do is, as people pass by, we holler, "Mi amigo, ¿te gusta leer la Biblia?" (Rough translation: "My friend, do you like to read the bible?") and EVERYBODY says yes. So we tell them we have something for them, and they actually walk over and come get the tract or whatever we offer, and are very appreciative. Many even stop to read the literature. We offered a tract to one man, and he said he didn't read English. Turns out he is Haitian, and there are quite a few in this town especially. The sister from Santiago happened to have a tract in Haitian Creole, and he was so happy when I gave it to him that he sat down and read the whole thing with his friends. Then he came back over to where we were sitting, and asked us if we had more for him to read. I felt so bad telling him no. I let him read the message in the Good News for All Nations book, but he still wanted more. So I'm going to try to see if I can get him some literature at the meeting (none of you just happen to have Haitian Creole literature that you could send me do you?) There is a Bible student who regularly attends the meetings named James, and he's from Haiti but speaks Spanish, too, so I'm going to see if he can teach me a greeting in that language, if I'm going to be meeting more Creole speakers. From the looks of things, I'll need it.
2) The other night, at the Internet café in town (which is where we have to go to use the Internet and sometimes either we don't have time to go, or it's closed, or the signal is out, that's why my emails are so sporadic-sorry about that!) a guy came in who, to me, looked and spoke just like a regular Dominican, started talking to Natalie in perfect, non-accented English. He asked if we were American, if we lived there in town, etc. Turns out he's from Oklahoma but has been living in the DR as part of the Peace Corps for a few years, save the times he's gone home for weddings and funerals. Nat told him about the work we are doing here as Witnesses, how we help people understand the Bible, and show them how its principles can help them to help themselves. He began to tell us how, basically he has started to become disillusioned with the work he's doing with the Peace Corps, because, as he put it, there are like 3,000 different charitable organizations here, and as much money and clothes they give, and as many houses are built, it doesn't seem to make a dent in the conditions here, because people's mentality doesn't change. According to him (and a few others with who we have spoken), a lot of people just want a handout, the root of which comes from ineffective government. He said he's come to realize that whatever is done by organizations isn't enough to change the infrastructure of and entire country. As Natalie told him, "You can't legislate people's hearts." At that point the power went out at the Internet spot and we had to leave, but fortunately, he told us what part of town he's living in, and, being that it really isn't hard to locate people, we're going over there to invite him to this Sunday's public talk and Watchtower, which I think will be great sine for one thing, the CO will be there, and also, the Watchtower is talking about ways we can show mercy. This one's a work in progress; no dramatic, climactic, assembly-worthy finish yet, but I'll keep you posted. It just shows though, how fertile the ground is here, how many opportunities can arise in places like this, and really, wherever we are, if we look for them.
I guess that wraps up my Dominican Chronicles for this week. I hope every one of you is well, wherever you may be, and if this tropical storm doesn't turn into a hurricane and wash me away, you'll be hearing another set of stories from me next week.
Love you all,
April
P.S.: I tried to send pictures, but for some reason I can't attach them. I'll send you all a link where you can see them all next time. Sorry about that :(
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