Quisiera decirles gracias

This video goes along with a thank you letter I will be writing to friends and family who supported the water filter project we have going on. It just got fully funded so I am now waiting on a list of names to filter down to my inbox through Peace Corps bureaucracy to know whose addresses to include in the email. So if you know you’re on that list, here is your special video thank you ahead of time! And if you’re not, well you missed out, but hey you still get to watch a video right!?

Enjoy! my community

Yoel in a line of them

What would it be like to have 29 brothers and sisters? 22 thanks to dad. 7, soon to be 8 from Mom. That’s 29 and one on the…way more siblings than I have! And to think about it, that’s more than my extended families on both sides combined. What in the WORLD would that be like???

Well Yoel knows. And so does Diomedis. And Wilson. And Benjamin. Along with a bunch of other kids I just learned were brothers. I was going about the usual tonight and decided to take a load off in Georgi’s colmado and chat with Bonnie a bit. Bonnie was in her best Doña evening attire/hospital gown and was sitting behind that broken down counter of theirs that moves forward with my weight when I lean on it. Bonnie is always pleasant to talk to or pleasant just to sit with. Has a certain maternalness that seems to radiate from her. I’m obviously not the only one who senses it, as their house overflows with their own kids más 4. If not more on weekends.

I’m sure Bonnie and Georgi started out living with their own 3 kids at one time. But since, this thing has exploded. What with Bonnie’s overpowering maternal force and all. I bet it’s hard for the neighborhood kids to resisit their desire to become one of Bonnie’s boys (not one girl lives there). Now her and Georgi don’t even spend the night in their own house. They’ve set up a bed behind the canned Paco Fish and Brugal covered wall of their colmado.

One day a while back I saw a small new face behind the counter despachando, struggling to return the right number of pesos, and I knew this was it. It’s happening I thought. And honestly, I felt fortunate to have witnessed the assimilation/adoption process occur. Like watching a baby being born, into a family of few who are related, and already having control of his bowels, not to mention able to speak in full sentences. It has almost holy overtones to it.

The boy was skinny, the skin on his face only covering his eye sockets and cheek bones, which made his nose, already disproportionate, that much longer and curve that much more prominently over his top lip. Imagine a nose on a skull. It just wouldn’t look right at all. His feet were bare, clothes thin, tattered and dirty, although not much different than standard muchacho ware. He was timid and shy. Unsure of himself and not so quick to smile. After a week or two of calling him by the only name I knew him as, el chivo but which I had diminuitized to el chivito, Bonnie set me straight saying, “Mateo, él no se llama el chivo. Se llama Yoel.” I was glad Bonnie made the clarification as I did feel it somewhat wrong to be calling him “the little goat.”

About Yoel’s family situation I know little, except the bit about all his siblings and the fact that his mother left her 6 kids here alone one day and went to live in Consuelo. Yoel and his brothers fended for themselves for a while which explains why Yoel showed up to Bonnie’s and the condition he was in. What kind of mother packs up and leaves her kids alone!? I remember thinking when I first heard this. Now, after seeing other situations of the sort play out here, I react not by throwing my hands up and furrowing my brow in indignation but with small facial movements like my Dominican friends, being not so surprised and having an almost what’s new attitude to it all.

I remember in the days, weeks, and months that followed watching Yoel tag behind Bonnie on her walk past my house to theirs to prepare lunch everyday. She, always conscious of him while still moving uninhibitedly at her own pace, him just trying to keep up, swerving where she swerves. Much like the mother hen and her little peeper’s novela that plays out only two inches off the ground, all over this country and especially on my street, everyday. Slowly but surely the distance would increase between them on these daily walks from the colmado to the house, Yoel allowing his attention now to be caught by other distractions along the way.

Le dio brega, pero Yoel finally learned to count and return correct change. He began taking on more advanced colmado tasks but still leaves the salami cutting, bulk item weighing, and bigger menudo transactions to Bonnie. He is sure of his products and will even asserts himself with old men who charge him of not giving them that caja de fosforos when indeed he did and they just lost it in one of their 4 shirt pockets. He lets that big toothed smile cover his entire face more often now days too.

I still wonder what he thinks about his Dad and being part of such a big bunch of brothers and sisters.

An up to the date

4/24

I look down to check the little numbers in my lower right hand clock which read 9:51 PM. I hear water splattering the ground in cup fulls next door. Carlos must be bathing. My mosquito net is illuminated to my right by the incredibly bright whiteness of this word document, as small bothersome insects fly about the screen of my laptop. I am careful not to hold it too close to my face or my nose will soon be full of them. Hizo frio esta noche. Un chin. I decided against the bucket bath tonight since I didn’t sweat like usual, as it was unusually overcast and cool all day, allowing my skin a break from its constant moisture. I woke up this morning in one of those cloudy head fogs that didn’t really clear up as the day progressed but I guess I cut through it to get a few things done at least.

It started about 7:30 as I crawled out of my mosquitero and took care of first things first. Then deciding to head down to the colmado in search of something cold on my throat I grabbed a few pesos sitting on the candle waxed pocked half wall dividing my kitchen and living space and closed the small pad lock on my front door behind me. They didn’t have of the jugos bon that are worth their full five peso price, Bonni said they should be getting more today or tomorrow, so I settled for a mabi and four pieces of bread and headed home. How awesome cereal and cold milk would have been I’m thinking now, and even for tomorrow morning...but let’s just not think too much more about that.

The days game plan began to take shape. I knew I had English at 2 and Escojo at 5 and I could probably get a filter installed this morning, even more then one if I had the keys to the empty discoteca where they are being stored. Last night I must not have been on the ball to think of that one ahead of time. But its not suprising. It seems days here are filled with enough stimulation that I can usually last until 7 or 8pm before I begin to hit a wall, the front door closes, and that’s a wrap for Mateo. Maybe my body is more connected to the natural cycle of things here. I mean I get up when the sun rises and turn in when it heads down. I eat what is only in season. It’s all that is really offered; the produce coming straight from the ground around Pedro Sanchez. The chicken that I eat a few times a week is alive doing its chicken thing just the morning before it is killed, plucked, and seasoned. It somehow still finds its way into my plastic green cantina by lunch. I sweat when I should. All day really, while the sun is hot, having no controlled air environment to escape to. It’s the ultimate fresh air experience. I even feel the strong night breezes pass through the house as I write this. When it rains I hear it on the tin, very commanding and demanding of my attention; a good aguacero will cover up any other noises with the pounding and subsiding roar of its passing tropical bands. I can’t hide behind insulated ceilings and weather proofed windows.

And I’ve grown to enjoy this. To feel a part of the day’s cycle. Rolling with it as it circles around this specific place of the globe I find myself in.

Well it looks like I didn’t get passed breakfast news with this update but that’s fine for now. Things always don’t turn out like I may have planned for here. I know you’ll understand. Well, maybe. Try to believe me. It’s a stretch from life in the states. Way more then the 2 hour plane ride it takes to get here.

4/26

The rain is tailing off now although the trees are still dripping. The clock says it’s five. I seem to agree with it. Although it’s a cool, dimmed down, and quiet five in the afternoon. The electricity is here, somewhat early, but I think the rain shower kept people away, wherever they were. The tranquility is somewhat startling, given the late afternoon electrical surprise. Next door, small clapping hands replace the familiar and steady pounding merengue and reggeaton beats. Seems to be a birthday or some other kid celebration. The hum of my fan, keeping the mosquitoes off of my sandaled feet, and some new (thanks scott and heidi) grooving sounds coming from my speakers, keep me from knowing exactly what it is that’s happening next door. I usually stay fairly up to beat on my neighbors goings on, and them on mine for that matter. Although some of what they hear coming from my house is like what I imagine my mom hearing when she watches the Spanish channel. When I feel really ambitious with the cultural exchange aspect of things, and I know they’re listening, I’ll turn my music way up (which is still pretty quiet for around here) and maybe even throw on some Chili Peppers or Zeppelin for that added rock music punch.

4/30

These were two things I started and didn’t finish for whatever reason. I’ve been meaning to do a little up to the date for this here thing. Both Mom and Dad have been reminding me of it for some time now. I guess it says it’s been since February or March since the last one. Time’s been flying. The thought has passed through my mind a few times lately about what it is going to feel like to have this all as just a memory. Or to tell people I lived in the DR for the past two years. Not actually live here anymore. I won’t be in the middle of all of this, and that’s strange to think about. I go about the day to day in relationships with friends and neighbors, while also immersing myself with thoughts, and trying to translate them to actions, so that I can somehow be a source of positive change here. (I am not saving the world by any means! That is a loaded job better left for someone else.) And time just melts away. So anyway what’s been going on really?

Water filters are being installed. A very tangible and rewarding project. Seeing people drinking free and clean water for the first time in their life is pretty cool. The smiles I get when I ask them how their filter is working are awesome. I remember thinking to myself how this whole volunteer gig is pretty sweet deal! If I didn’t have to go back to the states and have the whole monetary concerns causing me to get a paying job, amongst other getting actions, this would be something I could do for a while. I don’t mind the lifestyle at all. The simpleness, poverty, etc., I mean. What ever you want to call it. (I am also not saying that I´m poor or even know what it is like to be poor. I don´t and never will know.) And to think of it a little, after having been back in the states, it is really only in the states that I have desires for a lifestyle of more. I think it may be the satisfaction of living in a community or maybe not being bombarded by advertising, now that I think of it. Imagine not seeing an ad all day long. Well, besides the warn out old posters hung in the colmado for beer or different snack products, that are very unimposing. In the states there is no way for that to happen. To not see ads. We don´t even realize we are seeing them. Just another part of the landscape of America. But here I guess marketers realize they have not much of a market to market to, and focus their efforts elsewhere. It kind of alows my mind to take a break from so many me thoughts and think about others for a small fraction of time then usual. I am not saying at all that I have no me thoughts. They for sure are there, maybe just focused different. And I realize the whole Peace Corps organization and safety net protects me and supports me, allowing me to have my needs met. I wouldn’t able to do the whole volunteering thing if I had to pay my own money, look for a doctor when I was sick, or try to make money for other essentials. I don’t know, I guess it’s just a sweet deal and I feel fortunate to be a part of it.


That’s all I got now. Just a bunch of late night rambling and some cutting and pasting of ideas begun. Maybe this will get me back rolling with more substantial news. The soccer balls have been a blessing Uncle Tom. You can’t imagine how many kids are can play soccer now! And how much they are enjoying them! A few of them are even getting their own ball for the first time in their lives.

Ok
Peace Out
Matt

Cats On Strings and Other Things

I found this lost among other files. Don’t think I posted it.

3/18

Yesterday Elena, a fellow PCV, invited me over to her house for a little fiesta of sorts, a time of carbo loading really, featuring a feast of Dominican espaguetis with bread and beer. Somewhat nutritionally one sided you might think? It could have been a much heavier affair with the added accompaniment of viveres. I for one am glad they were left out.

I was surprised to see Elena with a cat in her house, as I knew she had some bad luck keeping a little kitty alive once. This cat had some years on him but not too many, a joven cat if you will, with a very pretty and puffy orange coat. Unlike my cat he pawed at my tender bare feet, rather then tearing the skin off them or pulling his favorite bite and hold hard and slowly let off as I whack him move. I think he is still mad at me from calling him Shakira. This was all before he hit puberty and I realized she was really a him. And I thought she could be my surrogate Columbian/belly-dancing girlfriend.

Elena said that this cat was aprestado from the Pastor and his wife, and that they do this often. A cat on loan. I never really thought that could be done but it interested me. I should have done this instead of mistakenly thinking I would enjoy the company and responsibility of taking care of a girlfriend that scratches and bites and draws blood and doesn’t even dance bachata, much less belly dance. And then doesn’t even turn out to be a girl in the first place.

But what really caught my attention was that this cat was on a string and tied to the metal bars of a security door at Elena’s side entrance. It wasn’t really that the cat was on a string, because I have gotten used to seeing that here and like many other things has become part of the whole Dominican deal. It´s that this was at Elena’s house, a fellow PCV, and there were other Americans present. And rather then questioning Elena on the cats being on a string, we proceeded to drag the cat through the house by its leash string, its front paws spread eagle and its nails gripping futilely at the hard cement floor.

Now after 18 or so months here, I thought, this is just another example of our cultural adaptation and why I love the whole Peace Corps experience. Because now I can see cats on strings, or mini vans…I mean motorcycles, five deep and carrying random household utilities or construction materials through the street and not even look twice. And I can chalk it up to just part of our common human package deal and get on with working and living here. Which is nice.

Yendri is the smallest kid on our soccer team. His house backs right up to the field and being the only boy amongst four sisters I guess that makes him obligated twice to join in on whatever is being played out there. The soccer ball goes up to about the middle of his shins and so his passes are a lot like a pitcher pitching change-ups. He’ll make you jump and turn your back with the swing of his leg, but then you see the ball rolling off his extended leg and slowly making its way to you. He also has an interesting nose thing going on. Being a good 3 feet taller then him, I can still somehow see up his nostrils. It boggles me to this day. They are not only upturned, I can see up them from above. Anyway, today at practice he told me that he heard I had a birthday recently. Or that I am going to have one soon. He wasn’t really sure. I felt he was stabbing around in the dark, and he finally asked me when my birthday was. He was reaching for something I thought to myself. I told him it was in April and thought maybe it was him who really had a birthday, so I asked. It wasn’t, but when I inquired ¿y cuando es entonces? he jumped right on to my birthday month so fast I thought he might loose his grip and slip. He answered my next super obvious question was a nonchalant, yo no se. And our short conversation ended there. Mostly because I couldn’t relate and didn’t know what to say as a response. Yendri was 8, at least from what everyone else said, but he doesn’t know what day he will turn 9.

Was the day Yendri’s mother gave birth just another day for her and her husband? I can imagine instead of an exciting homecoming with a new little family member, she got right back to cleaning the dishes that were left before heading to the hospital, if that’s were she indeed had Yendri, and began cooking dinner for her hungry husband. What about the birth certificate? Yendri could have one or just as easily not. If not, he is in for some future inconveniencies and problems his mother must not have imagined walking out the hospital without the acta de nacimiento form. Then I wondered about his birthday parties. After eight parties he should have gotten something ingrained up there, at least to remind him his season was around the corner, right? But then I remembered where I was. And I could only think about that cold monster called poverty that indiscriminately eats up kids' recollection of their birthdays, destroys their plastic samurai sandals, and rots their baby teeth. Yendri was born into poverty’s world one day back eight or so years ago, and his family has lost track or not cared to remind him of what day that actually was.

I thought about those kids who were afraid of the dancing Chucky Cheese robots that celebrated mine and so many of my friends’ birthdays with us. Maybe these kids were on to something. Maybe they understood how the whole Chucky Cheese dancing crew was really our own scary monster, trying to protect us from a world were birthdays didn’t include $20 US dollars worth of tokens and fun stimulating party games. Or the feelings of surprise we had when waking up the morning after, to see that all those toys weren’t in our dreams and in fact, were not going to disappear. Or a world where remote control cars are walked on strings up and down dusty dirt streets. My toys cars came with tracks and turns and jumps and the remote controlled ones came with a remote. The batteries even lasted forever; not like the cheep blue and yellow ones bought from behind the colmado counter.

This was the other day. Sometimes I get sucked into this world and think different and probably sound like I am ranting too much. So I will leave that there for now and just tell you about something that happened this morning. I woke up with the 20 or so bred to be fighting roosters that live next door. They had actually woken up earlier way before the sun decided to peak its rays out over the Cordillera Oriental. I only know this because I too was up with them at this dark and unknown hour of the morning, when all Gods animals should be asleep and quiet in their cages. But I finally got up at about 7:30 when my cat began nibbling on my toes, and I went out back to pee. I love the freedom of peeing here. I personally don’t take full advantage of it all the time. I mainly pee in a corner next to my latrine or in my three way closed shower area (don't worry, it goes directly into the tube that runs out to the street. I think peeing in the shower any other way is disgusting). But my 3-10 yr. old neighbors whip it out right on the sidewalk and go in the street, in the morning, during the hot afternoon sun, whenever they really feel like it.

Anyway I walked down a few houses to Luz little colmado in the front of her house to get some breakfast supplies. It came out to 14 pesos but she had counted wrong and was only going to charge me 9. She often counts wrong so I always make sure to tally my own bill up as well. I told her about her mistake and paid her the 14 and left. The five pesos she sold herself short were probably the money she would have pocketed on the sale, so that would have especially been bad. But she called me back saying, “Mateo ven” and handed me two eggs adding “esos juevos son criollos, no son gringos, no.” Criollo eggs are the “better” eggs from chickens that aren’t the solid white “gringo” chickens they kill to eat. And these eggs are about 5 pesos each, 2 pesos more then gringo eggs, and probably from her own criollo chickens out back. Now I don’t think for a second that she was doing this because I saved her some money. Every so often she gives me a few good criollo eggs. And every so often she tells me “Mateo, ya tu eres uno de nosotros” (your one of us now) which makes me feel more comfortable here, kind of taking the shine out of my white skin.

So Luz gave me two criollo eggs for no more of a reason then it had been some time since she last gave me eggs. And this is what I love and it just makes me happy. Never in the states would I give somebody something just to give it to them, and sincerely enjoy doing it. I barely give stuff for holidays and birthdays and when I do it is grudgingly, not exactly wanting to extend my hand out and let go of what I have, only doing it because I should. It’s so awesome here to see people so giving. I was heading home one day minding my own business and from all the way across the street I heard a loud “¡Mateo, a buen tiempo!” (which is an invite to share in the food someone is eating) from a girl sitting and eating a sandwich. I mean kids share loly-pops between 4 friends, each kid getting a broken off piece. Strangers on the bus offer me orange slices or other food they just bought through the window from the vendor on the street. So whenever I feel myself becoming too negative and judging of this culture, or the whole poverty thing weighs heavy, I remind myself of this aspect of living here and it makes me smile inside.

Thats all I got for ya now. I did go whale watching the other day in the Samana Bay just north of me. These whales come down every year for 3 months to this bay because I guess they like the carribean waters in the winter. But whale watching is not the spectacle I thought it would be. We saw a bunch of whales, really anywhere you'd look, but by seeing I mean I saw their backs or their tails. Never saw a whole body or face! Anyway I'll put up on flickr a few new pictures of this and the Semana area which is really beautiful.

Oben´s Cows and Water Filters

Today one of my kids came to practice chasing his cows. I was sitting on Monsanto’s porch calmly watching the half diamond baseball game that was going on. Through the trees to my right I noticed two huge cows barreling down the dirt road. Then as they came into clear view I saw Oben sprinting behind them. I guess he forgot his horse. Or just didn’t want to bother, relying instead on his family’s speed and agility. His two brothers are the quickest kids on the soccer team. Their horse is named Relampago (Lightning) as well. They always ride it barebacked and often backwards for kicks. One day I might take them up on their offer and go for a little horseback riding in the hills nearby.

But anyway, the two cows proceeded to cut directly between the mound and home plate with Oben right on their tail. I looked at the guys playing baseball expecting some sort of reaction but there was none. So I laughed out loud instead. Oben continued chasing them for a few hundred meters more until I suppose they were where he wanted them to be. He turned around and walked to join the small sided soccer game that was going on in the outfield. I guess he decided his afternoon job was done. Or he had had enough of chasing around cows.

Today was pretty slow. Yesterday I had a meeting for anyone interested in getting a Bio-Sand filter. A disappointing eight people came, but we had the meeting anyway and I gave them the whole “why this is important” spiel. Afterwards I was thinking how that in order to have a worth while meeting, it sometimes takes a previous meeting to get people on board for the actual meeting that I wanted to have in the first place. It’s crazy I know. A little frustrating too. I was hoping to meet once, get 25 people on board, take care of other business, and send in the application for these filters by tomorrow. But tomorrow is now the real meeting as yesterday was just the warm up. And it’s not that people didn’t know. Because they have been stopping me in the street and telling me to apuntar them - put their name down so they don’t miss out on these filters and how they really really need it. Then I tell them don’t worry because we are having another meeting(heavily winded emphasizing “another”) and that they just need to come to this one. One girl in particular was insistent in telling me to put her name down and I kept telling her how she just needs to come to the next meeting. Then she dared to ask, “¿y si se me olvida mañana?” – and what if I forget tomorrow? That really got me. I told her just don’t forget and walked away, leaving her there standing still for a brief moment and probably a little frustrated and wondering why I wouldn’t just apuntarla.

I don’t want to rant and so I won’t too much. But I think I see the culture of poverty coming through in the beginnings of this whole filter project; apathy and not taking personal responsibility or the initiative for something that they could truly benefit from. I mean they only have to come to a meeting! I can understand that a few people here may not see a problem with the water they are drinking. I can excuse that, and just ask them to come to the meeting anyway, because that’s what I am going to convince them of during the first half of it. But I have also heard enough complaints since I’ve been living here to know that there are many people who do understand their water is a problem. Why didn’t they jump on this thing the first take? Why do they give me an excuse for not being at the first meeting and then say they can’t come to the next one either, but ask me to apuntar them anyway? Things like this can be frustrating sometimes. But that’s enough. I will stop there for tomorrows’ meetings’ sake.

My first year

BIG WARNING! YOU’LL NEED TIME TO READ THIS
Pictures where ment to be included but the internet is not willing.



So I’ve wanted to share this now for a while. Not to toot my own horn but because I think it’s blog worthy. And because friends have been asking a few questions along these lines lately too. I think it will give you an idea of what I’m working on and who I’m working with. And what is this all accomplishing. And maybe you and I will understand a small part of the word “development”. It’s a really tough vocab word though when you start looking at the details.

Anyway, I am in the youth development sector of Peace Corps and so most work is focused as such. I am not developing infrastructure, or fish ponds, or teaching people new ways to grow crops. Although sometimes I wish I was because results are more tangible and numbers can used. Numbers don’t lend themselves well to my sector. This is more of a human development thing, for both me and my community. And human development is a life long process. Still learning as I go, I can only share as much as I’ve learned in my 23 American years. And while my years are not many I’ve realized here in the DR that I’ve been very fortunate to have had a wide variety of experiences growing up in the states. And the basic education (public school and college) that I received is really worth something I´ve realized as well. And now as I look back on this year I see how all these experiences have been influencing my work here and will continue to direct my work in the next year.

So here it goes… I’m taking this from a short 15 minute PowerPoint I made up for our 1 year IST, entitled “Key Activities and Key Players in Pedro Sánchez”. I made a point to not only highlight the activities but the key people behind them because I’m relying on them so much here. And after one year here I have learned to really value the people who want to move and work with me.

English with Daybi



Daybi is my bread and butter. My main man and go to guy. If he could only be involved in every project! This guy gets all the super achievement stars I can give him. When I first got here to Pedro Sánchez his dad introduced me to him in their colmado saying Daybi speaks some English. Even by this point in country I expected to converse the first few lines in any standard English text and be done with it. But Daybi wouldn’t let me stop. He kept throwing words out there that caught me off guard. And his pronunciation was pretty good, better then intelligible. Surprising all the more when I found out he learned all this from studying an old English book he came across. So I took note and after about the second week of people asking me about 5 times a day when English classes were going to start I went to Daybi. English was the last thing I wanted to do getting here but I told Daybi that I would work with him if he would help me out with teaching an English class. My idea was maybe sometime in the future have him take charge of the class. So I met with him three times a week and he was my sidekick during our English classes. Now we are still meeting but Daybi is basically teaching two different classes on his own with a few grammer books my mom got donated. And to my good fortune he’s an incredible naturally gifted teacher!

While I wouldn’t consider English a top priority for development work, especially in light of many other issues to be tackled, English here in this part of this country can lead (for better or worse in the big picture) to above average jobs in the hotels in nearby Bavaro and Punta Cana. So while I still wouldn’t want English classes to be a center piece for me, I am happy to spend the time I do with Daybi. Because I am 100% certain this is a sustainable project after I leave. And for the kids who really want to study this can lead directly, without a doubt, to a hotel job in the future.

Fútbol with Monsanto



I was there the day fútbol came to Pedro Sanchez. Imagine that!? It started with me bringing my ball to the baseball field one day and about 30 kids running around crazy kicking it and tackling each other. They had never played or seen this game before in their lives. And it was a mess at first. But with Monsanto, a Dominican who is from Jarabacoa which is a soccer oasis in this soccer desolate country, we slowly began to teach the game and the same certain kids began showing up practice after practice. At first we would play only Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Then the kids talked me into a few Saturdays and Sundays (which really wasn’t that hard to do). Now it is basically every afternoon whether I am there or not.



I still can’t hold back the smiles when I walk out to the field on a random afternoon and see these kids playing soccer on their own! And these are mainly kids who aren’t baseball players and weren’t involved in much day to day somewhat structured activities. Now they are learning the beautiful game! How beautiful is that!?

After not too long I realized that these kids really have no idea of what it means to be on a team or what personal accountability is; or other general human interaction/life skills. So throughout this whole process I have been trying to get these kids conscious of what this looks like. Although even today, this is still a huge struggle for them and me. But there is some progress on this front and this will continue to be a focus point in the next year. These kids are not going to become the next Ronaldinho, there is not the soccer structure set up here in this country for this. So I try to balance my soccer instruction with good people instruction when appropriate.

Ecojo with Eduardo



Escojo is a national youth initiative promoting healthy decision making relating to sex health and beyond. It was started by some older PC DR Volunteers, and aims to form youth groups and leaders who will multiply this information to other youth and community groups through presentations, activities, and the like. And honestly I have been struggling with this youth group concept from the get go. In training they heavily emphasized to us that we should try to form some type of youth group (be it an environmentally focused one, Escojo, hybrid, or just any group of youth that meets regularly). I say struggling because I don’t buy the sustainability of the youth groups. And especially now, after a year of seeing how much effort it takes to just get the kids to meet. I constantly feel I am hounding and coercing them and I feel the day I stop this is the day the youth group stops. Because it happened to my first youth group effort.

But now I’m working with different youth, fewer and so more focused, and a different theme (the first was environmental education). And while still difficult I have a few kids onboard and one great youth, Eduardo, pushing with me. We have done a presentation to two community groups and an activity for World AIDS in our community so far. And have attended various conferences with other youth from all over the country. I am more hopeful now for the success of this group and them doing more activities/presentations and becoming stronger with Eduardo taking the lead.

A Few Honorable Mentions

Business Plan Competition



Together with these three guys we put together a business plan and did a small feasibility study for this competition/conference. The winners would get all or part of their plan funded. Their proposal was for an arcade type place where they would have Nintendos, Playstation, etc for kids to come and rent by the hour. It was a great business idea really because people don’t have these gaming systems in their houses here and there wouldn’t be much overhead costs (besides electricity) after they bought the initial systems and televisions. When they first presented me with the idea I was not that thrilled by the principals of it and so I had to think how we could make this a more worthwhile and wholesome business. So we proposed to tie it into education a bit by restricting access to kids while they should be in school (either in the morning or afternoon) and also not letting kids in who didn’t pass their classes the previous semester. So with these new regulations I was cool with the project and had a great time working with them to flesh it out and fulfill the requirements of the competition. In the end we didn’t win but they came out of a three day conference having heard presentations on a wide variety of business topics such as: customer service, bookkeeping, mission/vision, assessing demand, etc. And even I learned a lot going through this with them and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Sports Tournment

This was really the first project I was involved in at my site and it was a great warm up and initiation into the workings of the community. It involved one full weekend of about 300 kids from the surrounding communities competing in Volleyball and baseball. It came off well looking back I guess. Although I remember it being a pretty big headache during. I remember I ended up doing a lot of the leg work. But I was also able to see who here in the community is all talk and who really gets down and works with you. And to this day those people who worked hard in this are still by my side in whatever we need to get done.

Reading Groups

There were two of these. One was at my house with about 6 kids and kind of sporadic, mainly whenever they were all around so we wouldn’t have to go searching high and low for anyone. We were reading through The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe and progressed well I thought but this kind of fell apart later as meetings slowly got further and further apart. I guess I’m not too good at begging kids to come and reminding them over and over and really sometimes that’s what it takes. Their parents certainly don’t send them out the door to my house to read, that’s for sure! The second group was kind of a coordinated effort between myself and the girl who manages the small library we have in our new tech center. And it was mainly with high school age kids. We would meet twice a week and read short stories from Dominican authors. I enjoyed this but we are kind of on hold as the whole month of December and first part of January is useless to do anything much. Nobody wants to get together for anything. So I am hoping to be able to start off where we left with this. But I’m not holding my breath either.

For the IST presentation I had lessons learned and promising practices slides but just for the sake of length I will leave that off of this. And just share some goals for my last year.

The first is I want to get this homework/after school center going (called Espacios Para Crecer). Up to this point it has been a people networking nightmare and I’ve been stretched hugely on my interpersonal and people influencing skills. The plot is way too think to lay out here but I will just say I saw prospects to get this program going from day one and have had many frustrations along the way. At times I was almost about to abandoned the whole idea but it is really too good to do that so I just let it rest until it was time to wake it up. It’s now up and awake and its wheels are moving forward. I hope to achieve some progress with this in the next month and by a Dominican March or April have it going. If faster I will be incredibly surprised. I will also say this project kept me from being totally pumped about my first year and if I can get this going this year I really feel that I can walk out of here happy. Even with the other things going, this one is that big too me.

The next is that I want to get soccer goals for my soccer kids. I envision this to be pretty straight forward. Just a matter of money which has been half way promised to us from the mayor. I would also like to get more soccer balls and cleats down here for the kids (*wink *wink). And I won’t lie to you that more then half the kids who play don’t have shoes to play in.

The next is to do a drawing class and offer one or two scholarships to the kids who do the best work to take another class in Santo Domingo. I generously got this awesome drawing book donated (in Spanish) by the author Betty Edwards. I have been using it on a more informal basis at my house with a few kids but I would really like to do a few months of once a week classes for about 20 kids. I’m really excited about getting this going! And I have been doing more drawing myself as well which I have really enjoyed.

There is also the possibility of doing guitar classes too but the lack of another guitar or two is still holding this back. I have been working on getting one, both here in the DR and with organizations at home, but as of yet no go. Still haven’t given up that search though. But in the meantime I play and give more informal classes to one kid named Francis who borrows the Catholic Church’s guitar.

Those are pretty much the new things I am gunning for this year. And maybe giving a class at the computer center as well. Ohh yea I almost forgot. I also want to get this program called grassroots soccer going with my soccer team. It’s a really interesting HIV/AIDS prevention program started in Africa that uses sports to teach. Check it out online too if you want to know more. Do a google search for it and you’ll find it. Finally I still need to continue with the things that are currently going to get them to walk on their own by November next year.

It may sound like a lot or it may not. It is and it isn’t. Just depends on the day, the week, and the weather. Seriously.