Some Recent Activities

The proverbial ball is starting to roll.  I have begun a morning walking club with some of the doñas, only one really shows up and then there are two others who walk that way to work in the morning so they come with us too (Side note: it’s probably a 2+ mile walk on hilly, uneven, pothole-ridden, muddy, trip-hazard large-rock-dirt road to where they catch a motoconcho to get to work.  They leave the house at 6am, it is still dark out, peaceful with bright stars still lighting up the sky, and the other day one of them walked the whole thing barefoot because her sandals broke I kid you not.  They may not walk uphill in the snow both ways to school but in some cases it isn’t too far off).  I think (hope) that as time goes on more doñas will seize the moment and walk in the mornings.  I certainly can’t blame them if they don’t though – the day of work that awaits them everyday is no small task.

So that delightful activity starts at the unholy hour of 6am.  Most people are getting up around that time anyway; after all, tumbaring (Spanglish for literally, making fall) avocado or cacao isn’t very fun in the afternoon with the Caribbean sun bearing down on you, and the women must be up to boil the viveres (staple foods: unripened, boiled bananas, plantains, rulo (a Danny Devito style banana) yucca, yautía) so the men can labor on full stomachs.

As we walk along the dark road the doñas shout saludos to various houses, “Cómo le amaneció!?”, “Qué Dios le bendiga!” – “How’d you sleep!?” (Literally, How did the sun rise for you – my translation) and “God bless you!”

Today in particular, I stopped by my one doña’s house at 6am as scheduled only to find out she had a doctor’s appointment.  Oh well, who needs sleep anyway?  It’s not like there aren’t two roosters outside my room that have crowing contests at midnight, 2:30am, 4:30am and 5:30-7:30am daily.  And these contests aren’t exclusive, no, neighboring roosters from houses away are happy to compete.  Part of me wishes these cocks would just fight already so less of them are around to produce that incredibly awkward sound.  Even without my one participating doña, I moved on to walk with the two on their way to work.  On the way back, now alone, I was invited in for coffee by a nice old doña I had to deny the day before for a prior engagement.  “Americaaaano, ven aca mi niño…” That was at 6:45am.  I left at 9am now knowing the entire family and with a belly full of ultra-sweet coffee and hearty egg, plantain and avocado breakfast. 

If you go into someone’s house, you may as well accept the fact that, regardless of hunger or the impending scolding awaiting you back home where your absurdly large meal will not be finished, you aren’t leaving that house without a meal and minimum two mandarins (got six the other day).

The project on the books is Saturday morning English class, held conveniently in the one-room schoolhouse next-door, complete with chairs, desks, blackboard and chalk.  Given the mass quantity of students and more awaiting inscription, I will have to move the class to the community center up the road.  It has a large, covered open space al aire libre, chairs and a whiteboard.  I have to say I’m pretty lucky to have all this equipment at my disposal.  In training we saw a volunteer’s site in a batey (old sugarcane town, characterized by their large Haitian populations and general lack of any economic activity, social services, or opportunity for advancement) where the volunteer converted a dilapidated, abandoned school bus into an incredible classroom.  Really inspirational work.

The people here have an insatiable thirst for English.  I don’t mind teaching it, but I did it for the last two years and it isn’t what I came here to do, especially with the considerable population of illiterates who could make better use of Spanish.  That being said, it’s impossible to turn down this refreshing 

motivation of theirs. 

What campo life lacks in amenities, it more than makes up for with its rugged charm.