tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71575617044572458012024-03-12T18:58:41.428-07:00Pazitively LocaMy experiences as a Peace Corps volunteer in the Dominican Republiclalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-47865412506621274012015-07-22T15:40:00.003-07:002015-07-22T15:57:06.369-07:00ClosureI've been thinking about this blog post for about seven months, long overdue as it may be I'm publishing it.<br />
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I left you hanging like clean laundry back in September...and with good reason. Around that time I realized I was taking a lot of things in my life for granted. A beautiful island, loving people, great friends and my quality of life. I will never be in that exact place ever again and I am so overjoyed that I did it. There were a lot of times I wanted to go home and it wasn't always cold presidentes (sometimes they were warm) and playa, but it taught me things about myself I could not have learned anywhere else.<br />
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<b>On Finishing</b><br />
Yes, on May 15 I finished my Peace Corps service. It was bittersweet and down right scary. I stayed in country for a few extra days to say my goodbyes, which even thinking about it still makes me well up a little bit. If you would have told me two and a half years ago that I would leave the DR with a couple of second families and someone who means the world to me I might not have believed you. Being a foreigner is hard. I wish more people understood that. Love for a culture, for an overall way of life, for an unforgettable dialect of Spanish, for hardworking and inspiring friends and the excitement of never knowing what each day would bring are what kept me going. I don't ever expect to do more rewarding work in my life and if it ends up staying that way, I'm totally okay with it.<br />
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<b>On Mangaring Visas</b><br />
Although I never really took dating Dominicans seriously (ha, maybe an understatement), one got me good. To make a long story short, when my time came winding down I decided that I wasn't ready to be done and living in another country wasn't necessarily a reason to end things. Many people don't realize that Dominicans (and the majority of the world) can't travel to the US without a visa. Visas are hard to get. There is a lot of criteria to meet and the process is complicated. Not to mention there is a stigma about getting a visa through an American (marriage for business). At the end of April we decided that he would apply for a tourist visa to give us some flexibility to continue seeing each other.<br />
On the day of his interview we were both nervous wrecks. What will this mean for our relationship if he is denied a visa? How happy will we be if he's approved? I waited outside the U.S. Consulate in the sweltering heat as I watched him pass through security. While I waited I made friends with the police and security guards who work the front doors. After about an hour, one of them yelled "here he comes!" I felt my stomach drop but when he saw the little piece of paper in his hand he looked at me and smiled. "They wanna talk to you."<br />
I walked through security and up to the second floor where interviews are held. Interview is a loose term as everyone can hear and see your exchange with the consulate officer. We nervously held sweaty hands as we waited our turn. When we got to the front of the line at the window where he started his interview the officer began to speak to me in English, asking me about us and about Peace Corps. I could tell English was not his first language. After a short exchange he stared at his computer screen for awhile and then turned back to me.<br />
"I'm not going to give him a one-entry visa," he said. I looked down and began to process what had just happened. "I'm going to give him a ten year visa," with a huge grin on his face. I quickly raised my head.<br />
"But..why?" I asked.<br />
The officer paused and responded, "because 12 years ago I was in his exact position, at the U.S. Consulate in the Ukraine asking for a visa to visit my girlfriend and her family. She was a Peace Corps volunteer there and I met her during her service. She's right here, actually." He pointed to a woman who walked by behind him. They are married and have two kids and are now foreign service officers in Santo Domingo.<br />
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<b>On What's Next</b><br />
The one who got me visited the U.S. for the first time for 3 weeks in June. I could not have asked for a better visit. He met almost all of the most important people in my life.<br />
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I also live close enough to my compadre Andy and we've been able to see each other a few times now. I live in my parent's basement (lolz) and am currently looking/interviewing for jobs.<br />
The DR calls me. It's like a magnetic pull. I dream of the Bella Epoca, driving around the campo while drinking a beer out of a plastic cup, the beach and technicolor bachata. I know when I go back it will be like nothing changed and I can't wait. Until then I'll just keep dancing merengue in my bathroom.<br />
I'll never stop listening to reggaeton, craving fried plantains or feeling a familiar affection when I see a plastic lawn chair. And every day for the rest of my life I will think about my service.<br />
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fin.</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-16947206698430341752014-09-10T06:53:00.001-07:002014-09-10T06:53:08.319-07:00On Death in the DR<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the most interesting things that
I have learned in my service is how universal connections between
human beings are. After 10 months in my new community I can proudly
say that I feel like I am from here and that certain people in this
area have accepted me not only as the “Americana” but as a
daughter, niece, sister and friend. I feel like I've lived here my
entire service. “Aplatanada” they say, which means I am one of
them.</div>
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Family is number one in Dominican
culture. Cousins who grow up together refer to each other as
sister-cousins because calling each other cousins just doesn't quite
describe the relationship accurately. You would be hard pressed to
find a homeless Dominican outside of the large cities. Why? Because
the people here take care of each other. They find places for the
family members and friends to sleep and make a little extra food to
make sure no one goes hungry.
</div>
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Yesterday, La Red Guaconejo (my
project) lost a close member of our family. Tita was the wife of the
ex-president, Hilario, and both founding members of La Red,
godparents of a close friend and leaders in their community.
</div>
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Death in the rural areas of the DR is
very different from American culture. As soon as the person dies
(almost always in their house) the funeral begins. The house fills up
with neighbors, family and friends to pay their respects. I mean
inside, outside and in the street; people everywhere. Sometimes, the
family will just leave the body in bed or laying on a table for
viewing. In my personal observations here there is no shame in death,
nor do people fear it. At first I thought it was disgusting that the
body was just left in a bed but not only are there not many other
options (Tita was in a casket with a window to see her face), but the
rawness of the situation is what molds this culture to be fearless of
death and gives them closure.
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People pass through the room to say
goodbye and then sit around for hours talking. It is customary for
people to cry loudly, even scream, not holding back on showing their
emotions. Plastic chairs are usually rented and it's common for about
dozen of the family's closest friends to spend the night at the
house. Since there are no embalming processes, the body is buried the
next day. On this day the family of the deceased makes a huge feast
(think food for 100+ people) for those who flock from near and far to
show their support. After lunch there is a short mass and then
everyone piles into pickup trucks for the procession to the cemetery.
Goodbye music is played as the caravan parades through the nearby
communities to the burial spot.
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Once the deceased is buried (usually
above ground) the process of <i>los nueve dias,</i> or the nine days
of mourning begins. For nine consecutive days the house is totally
open as a memorial to the deceased and many of the same people are
there every day with the family, praying and remembering the life of
their lost loved one. On the last day, the <i>vela, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">which
is the formal funeral prayer service, is held to close out the nine
days of mourning. </span><span style="font-style: normal;">Attendees
wear only black or white to show their respect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-style: normal;">In
traditional cases, t</span><span style="font-style: normal;">he
anniversary of the death of that person is then remembered each month
for two years. Once two years have passed the family is officially no
longer mourning publicly. </span>
</div>
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Tita's funeral was really the first that I had been to here of someone who I knew. Being there with everyone gave me a sense of connectedness. These people take care of each other come hell or high water. Tita passed away
from complications of advanced diabetes. She was in her early
sixties. She can be seen in the trailer in <a href="http://www.chocolatecountryfilm.com/" target="_blank">this link</a> at 1:05 sitting in front of the cocoa
dryer right next to her house talking about the importance of development in her community. May she rest in peace.</div>
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lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-14291168428530415282014-09-03T11:22:00.000-07:002014-09-03T11:30:21.507-07:00On being pregnant in the DR<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No, I'm not with child. This post was
inspired by my mom, who told me that “no one would believe that
shit if you told them that” after I shared this story with her
recently.
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Pregnancy is the Dominican Republic is
a very interesting concept, different from my US perception.
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First, it's almost absolutely
impossible that a women doesn't have children and much more
impossible at my age. I am asked almost daily why I don't have any
kids or if my equipment doesn't work. Needless to say most women
start and finish having children young. Kids raising kids.
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Young men are dying to have kids and
grown men want as many children as possible. It's like a status
symbol. In rural areas it's not uncommon for a man to have two
families, which is also a symbol of power and wealth. Women who are
sterile or cannot have kids are often not married and seen as
useless.
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Pregnant women hold a special place in
society here. They are adored by all men and are usually waited on
hand and foot. Have to pee on the bus? No chance the driver will stop
but if you tell him you're pregnant he'll pull over ASAP. Dominicans
have some pretty crazy explanations for life's little wonders. One of
my favorite ones is that when a child is born with a birth mark it
means that the mother was not given the food she was craving and so
it “stains” the child. No joke, people believe that.
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Many women go their entire pregnancy
without seeing a doctor. Not because they don't want to, but because
they don't have the money and/or live in very rural areas that are
almost inaccessible. I imagine being pregnant here would be much like
being hungover in this country; it's 110 degrees outside and no air
conditioning in sight, the water you are dying to drink could
potentially make you sick and none of the food you want is available.
Sounds pretty awful to me.
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So yesterday late afternoon I head down
to my host family's house to pay them a visit. They are from one the
most rural communities in this area. To get there you either have to
be in a very stable four wheel drive vehicle with an experienced
driver (good luck finding either of those), by motorcycle (not
recommended) or you can walk. It's about an hour motorcycle ride or
thirty minutes on a motorcycle and a forty five minute hike. Either
way you have to cross the river about 8 times, half of those times
there is no bridge. You may remember this post when I went up to see
another PCV's new house with the safety and security coordinator of
Peace Corps.
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When I arrive to their house I find my
host mom's nephew Joel, his brother, and his girlfriend who is
sitting in a chair in their kitchen in labor. When I turn the corner
I see her water has broken all over the floor and she proceeds to
tell me that she came down this morning at 6am...an hour on a
motorcycle riding down the mountain on the back of a motorcycle on a
(rough) dirt road while in labor. ON THE BACK OF A MOTORCYLE IN
LABOR. Mud flying, rock dodging...I can only assume she rode
side-saddle because I can't imagine straddling a motorcycle while in
labor. Jesus Cristo. As I go to get her a glass of water she stands
up and tells my host sister that it's time to WALK to the hospital.
They all agree it's good for her to get a little exercise. The
hospital in my community is a 15 minute walk and she had been in
labor all day. No epidermal no nada for the pain. Drenched in sweat
Losauri took her by the arm and I watch them walk slowly down the
street, my host mom in tow with towels and sheets because the
hospital doesn't provide those things.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The hospital here does not really allow
people to spend the night as they don't have the resources to pay
staff members to do night shifts so in most cases the woman is given
an IV and her vitals are monitored as she gives birth. She almost
always goes home within an hour of giving birth because the hospital
doesn't have enough beds to accommodate all of the sick people in the
community.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is normal here. All of the things
that you and I find inconveniences and hardships in my story are
totally normal for her, as this is her third time going through the
process of giving birth.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The situation for giving birth here may
not be up to our standards but the highlight of the experience was
seeing the excitement and nervousness on Joel's face to welcome their
newest member of the family into the world. I asked why he didn't
want to go to the hospital right away and he said he hated to see her
in pain. I stayed to help in the family store with my host dad since
everyone was at the hospital and a few hours later when I was leaving
I saw Joel finally going up to the hospital. As he passed me on my
street he turned and waved, flashing an ear to ear grin. </div>
lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-89603226796198099682014-08-24T13:39:00.000-07:002014-08-24T14:47:31.662-07:00ALS Ice Bucket ChallengeFirst and foremost I want to thank my dear friend Britta Deux (danke) for nominating me for the Ice Bucket Challenge. I got nominated in German, how cool is that?!<br />
<br />
Second, I apologize for not completing it in 24 hours, high speed internet and electricity are hard to come by down here. Video uploading almost out of the question.<br />
<br />
Since this challenge is about awareness I'm going to go ahead and make you all aware of a situation in the DR and in most developing countries. Clean water is hard to come by. Water has not come out of my faucet since June. It's August 24. Can you imagine?<br />
I'm not complaining, as this is what I signed up for but think about the people in my region who haven't had water to cook or bathe with at their fingertips for months. They didn't sign up for that.<br />
<br />
Now, think about how strange the ALS Bucket Challenge looks to them on Facebook. People dumping a bucket of cold water on their head...but with that bucket of water the average Dominican (and I) could bathe at least twice. Oh and the water's cold? Yeah, our bathing water is always cold. Refer to my post on <a href="http://pazitivelyloca.blogspot.com/2013/04/bucket-bathing-101.html" target="_blank">Bucket Bathing 101</a>. At 7am that water is freezing.<br />
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Drinking water is a whole other issue. The large bottle in this picture costs about a dollar, which is almost 10% of what an average Dominican makes in a day's work.<br />
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I have nothing against the cause. In fact, I will be donating. </div>
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Will I be dumping a bucket of water over my head? No, because I need that water to wash dishes, cook, clean and bathe. </div>
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Will I nominate more people? No, because this is about awareness and I think people should donate without wasting water. </div>
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I am super happy for the ALS community and the attention and donations it has received, just encouraging people to be aware!</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-22491627171616971022014-07-20T18:23:00.001-07:002014-07-20T18:23:16.684-07:00More Confessions from my Kitchen...So if you are not a PCV or not interested in what I cook, you can just go ahead and skip this post. Apologies. But the truth is getting creative with food here is tricky, and so is making sure I eat enough veggies. So here goes some recent happenings in my 4 x 6 foot kitchen. I should also mention I haven't had a functioning refrigerator since April...<br />
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A little chick pea-cucumber-cilantro salad</div>
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Curried broccoli, cauliflower, carrots and onions over white rice with avocado.</div>
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Standard fried plantains with a fried egg and cheese. Fabulous hangover food.</div>
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Black bean burgers with tostones</div>
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Skillet potatoes with peppers and onions and fried eggs. Also great for hangovers.</div>
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Brown sugar glazed carrots, tuna cakes with dill mayo and lettuce salad with honey lime garlic vinaigrette. And fresh cheese. </div>
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Coconut curry stew over white rice with fresh cilantro and cabbage salad and of course, avocado. </div>
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Not pictured here:</div>
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Egg salad</div>
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Carrot bread</div>
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9.5 pounds of mangu (mashed boiled plantains with butter, for those of you who are not Dominican) complete with fried salami</div>
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The 12 other avocados I've eaten since the season has started </div>
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Banana bread</div>
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Approximately a gallon of banana smoothie because someone gave me 25 ripe bananas that I had no idea what to do with.</div>
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Honey Garlic Lime Dressing</div>
<ul id="zlrecipe-ingredients-list" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-0" itemprop="ingredients">1/4 cup fresh lime juice</li>
<li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-1" itemprop="ingredients">1/4 cup olive oil</li>
<li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-2" itemprop="ingredients">1 tablespoon honey</li>
<li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-3" itemprop="ingredients">1 garlic clove, pressed or finely minced</li>
<li id="zlrecipe-ingredient-4" itemprop="ingredients">pinch coarse salt and pepper</li>
</ul>
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Tuna Cakes</div>
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<ul>
<li>1 6oz can of tuna fish in water or oil, drained</li>
<li>1/2 small red onion, chopped</li>
<li>1/4 cup celery</li>
<li>1/2 cups panko bread crumbs</li>
<li>1 clove garlic</li>
<li>1 egg</li>
<li>Pinch of pepper</li>
<li>2 tbsp olive oil</li>
<li>Fresh lime juice</li>
</ul>
<div>
Combine tuna, onion, bread crumbs and pepper in a bowl. Gradually add olive oil to make mixture into a sticky paste like texture. Form small patties and pan fry in a little bit of vegetable oil until brown on both sides a heated through. Drizzle with fresh lime juice and serve with light mayo mixed with fresh or dried dill. </div>
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Black bean burgers</div>
<ul style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 13px;" tabindex="-1">
<li data-grams="454.44" data-ingredientid="2779" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><span id="lblIngAmount">1 (16 ounce) can</span> <span id="lblIngName">black beans, drained and rinsed</span></li>
<li data-grams="59.5" data-ingredientid="4432" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><label><span id="lblIngAmount">1/2</span> <span id="lblIngName">green bell pepper, cut into 2 inch pieces. Here in the DR I use the standard long green peppers</span></label></li>
<li data-grams="55" data-ingredientid="4397" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><label><span id="lblIngAmount">1/2</span> <span id="lblIngName">onion, cut into wedges</span></label></li>
<li data-grams="9" data-ingredientid="4342" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><label><span id="lblIngAmount">3 cloves</span> <span id="lblIngName">garlic, peeled</span></label></li>
<li data-grams="50" data-ingredientid="16317" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><label><span id="lblIngAmount">1</span> <span id="lblIngName">egg</span></label></li>
<li data-grams="50" data-ingredientid="16317" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><label>1 tsp hot sauce</label></li>
<li data-grams="50" data-ingredientid="16317" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient"><label>1/2 c bread crumbs</label></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">These can be baked or grilled (pan fried in my case).</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<ol>
<li>In a medium bowl, mash black beans with a fork until thick and pasty.</li>
<li>Finely chop bell pepper, onion, and garlic. Then stir into mashed beans.</li>
<li>In a small bowl, stir together egg and hot sauce</li>
<li>Stir the egg mixture into the mashed beans. Mix in bread crumbs until the mixture is sticky and holds together. Divide mixture into four patties.</li>
<li>If grilling, place patties on foil, and grill about 8 minutes on each side. If baking, place patties on baking sheet, and bake about 10 minutes on each side.</li>
</ol>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-53339857118662712752014-07-10T08:16:00.003-07:002014-07-10T08:16:54.096-07:00Celebrating the Home of the Free and the BraveIt's true, I never knew how American I really was until I left the US. I know sometimes PCVs feel like they sometimes even have to defend their country from stereotypes and harsh assumptions about the US. Best way to handle it? Make it a learning experience.<br />
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When it comes to celebrating the grand old flag, we definitely know how to do it. This year about 90 volunteers flocked to Bayahibe, a quant, whitewashed beach town in the east of the country. Per usual, we let loose. Without further adieu, here are the some pics (a few borrowed from Katy).<br />
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And upon my return to my site, I got the chikungunya. I'm all better now though. </div>
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Hope you had a fabulous 4th!</div>
<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-47364964466902680702014-06-26T16:39:00.001-07:002014-06-26T16:39:03.052-07:00Why only Dominicans Can Turn an Epidemic into Pop CultureDominicans are hella good at small talk. I'd venture to say they're professionals. I'm going to go ahead and admit that I'm getting pretty good at it too. You see, there are a few main topics to touch on in standard small talk in the DR.<br />
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1. The weather. <i>"hay dios, que calor" or "Oh lord it's so hot, "Quee solazoooooo" or "What sun!", "Nos vamos a quemar!" or "We're all going to burn up!"</i> All typical phrases, especially this time of year when it's realllllly starting to get steamy up in here (listen to me, what am I talking about? This place is an inferno year round). Typical responses are, <i>"Buuuuenoo" which is a stark agreement, "Que dios nos protege" or "God protect us" and the usual "hay si!" or "oh yes!". </i><br />
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2. The family. <i>"Y la familia?"</i> so typical, and this island is seriously so small that even I who have been here for only a year and 3 months can talk to someone in the capital who knows someone in my pueblo who I know. Typical responses are, <i>"ah tu no sabia que fulana 'ta embarazada otra vez?" or, "oh you didn't know that (so and so) is pregnant again?", "viviendo de uno" or "living off of one (that person)", and "estan bien!!" or "they're good!". </i><br />
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3. The electricity or "luz". Asking what time it went out, what time it's coming back or how <i>"ella no sirve" or "it's not worth a damn".</i> Also consistent complaining about how it's never on.<br />
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And now ladies and gentlemen I present you with the newest topic for small talk that's <i>caliente</i> in the country right now.<br />
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La Chikungunya. Sometimes referred to as the Chimichanga, the chichiguya, or the "virus".<br />
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If you are reading this and you don't live in the DR, here's some background info on what it is. <i>Chikungunya </i>i<span style="font-family: inherit;">s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Makonde_language" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; line-height: 22px; text-decoration: none;" title="Makonde language">Makonde</a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22px;"> for "that which bends up"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> It is </span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">transmitted similarly to </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dengue_fever" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 22px; text-decoration: none;" title="Dengue fever">dengue fever</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;"> and causes an illness with an acute </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Febrile" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 22px; text-decoration: none;" title="Febrile">febrile</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;"> phase lasting two to five days, followed by a longer period of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthralgia" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 22px; text-decoration: none;" title="Arthralgia">joint pains</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;"> in the extremities; this pain may persist for years in some cases. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">I think it's officially an epidemic. EVERYONE has had it and EVERYONE is talking </span></span><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">about it. All you have to ask is, "<i>so, have you gotten it yet?"</i> on the bus and everyone erupts in conversation about how terrible it has been. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">This is a parody on a powdered juice label that's very popular in Latin America:</span></span><br />
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There was also recently a dembow (Dominican version of reggaeton) song and video made about it which you can see <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sw7MCOLDzv8" target="_blank">here</a>. The mosquito pictured is actually very accurate, it looks just like the one that carries Chikungunya. </div>
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It's no joke though, this has been wiping out entire pueblos at a time and in every organization there is at least one person sick with it. I see people hobbling to the corner store to buy their daily food items, grabbing walls and trees to be able to stand up. Some of my own family members had it weeks ago and are still suffering from joint pain, swelling and stiffness. It's even harder to see an infant or a small child struggle with it. </div>
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As a development worker living in a developing country, it's eye opening to realize how much more prone these populations are to health issues and how fewer solutions there are for them. I'm sure in the cases in the US people have been hospitalized for days until they feel better but here people don't have options, they have to lay in their bed all day under a smoldering zinc roof with a fever that takes more than 24 hours to break. </div>
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Public health have given workshops in almost all areas about filling in puddles, covering water tanks, sleeping with mosquito nets and using insect repellent. I just read <a href="http://www.cidrap.umn.edu/news-perspective/2014/06/caribbean-chikungunya-outbreak-slows-total-nears-190000" target="_blank">here</a> that totals in the caribbean have reached 190,000 reported cases. Doctors here in the DR are predicting that 5 million people (that's half of the population) will have had it by the end of the summer. </div>
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But it sure does make great small talk to pass the time, and no, I have not gotten it yet. </div>
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Hope you think of me next time you kill one of those clean US mosquitoes!</div>
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Kaley</div>
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><br /></span></span>lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-63827385267671771092014-06-24T21:14:00.000-07:002014-06-24T21:14:24.898-07:00Sealed the DealI've been holding off to post because I really wanted this to come before anything else (next up is about how a pandemic has become pop culture in the DR).<br />
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It's been (and will continue to be) a long journey. Remember <a href="http://pazitivelyloca.blogspot.com/2014/03/smells-like-cacao.html" target="_blank">this?</a> Yeah. Countless times I've left La Red cursing under my breath and swearing that I'd never return.<br />
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We finally sent a container of cacao to our friends at Taza Chocolate.<br />
There was lots of merengue tipico, mamajuana and beer as we waited for the container to arrive from Santo Domingo to load. As we waited, more and more people came. The container finally rolled in around 8pm and it felt surreal. I was always very unsure as to if I would ever see the day that a container leaves from our warehouse. But I did.<br />
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210 jute sacks full of fermented organic cacao. 14.7 metric tons. Blood, a lot of sweat and even some tears.<br />
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Each 140lb sack was hand (or head) loaded. </div>
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Making the last one fit. </div>
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And I couldn't be happier. The payment for that cacao will make life a little easier around La Red. What's next? Well, the harvest is pretty much over. I'd like to believe that we will continue buying cacao as it closes out but really we need to start financially planning for the next harvest in October and maybe look for some potential investors for pre-harvest purchase money. </div>
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I have plans to make a formal website, finish the new labels for our cocoa powder that we sell and begin to settle some old debts that the coop has. </div>
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But this week is bittersweet. One of our oldest board members who has been with La Red since the beginning, Carlos Suarez (pictured below, far left) suffered a heart attack late Saturday night and has been in the hospital since then. He is sorely missed at the project and we are all praying for him. </div>
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Love from chocolate country, Kaley</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-88899285974222418152014-06-08T18:36:00.000-07:002014-06-09T03:41:37.385-07:00The day the bus driver saved my life...If there were only one thing I could chose for you to understand about Dominican culture, you will find it here.<br />
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So the bus driver didn't really save my life. He saved my recent trip to the US though and gave me one of those mind jolting, reality-checking experiences that make you step outside your life and realize that maybe there is another way to look at things.<br />
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At 10 AM I carried my nearly empty suitcase down the stairs of my apartment complex and into my community's town hall vehicle to take me to Nagua to get on the bus to Santo Domingo.<br />
"Do you have everything?" The driver, who is a family friend asked me in Spanish.<br />
"Of course!" I said. Obviously I was super excited to go back for a week and had thought this through a couple of times. We dropped off my keys at my host family's house and headed for the bus stop.<br />
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Normally I take the big air conditioned bus that doesn't stop and has a zero tolerance policy (everyone gets a seat and it is forbidden to talk to the driver during the trip), but that costs more and leaves less frequently, so I opted for the regular old guagua. We left at 11. Per usual, the guagua filled up 5 to a row back to front. About 30 minutes in to the ride, I realize my passport is on my dresser in my apartment. As we turn on to the main highway to head south, I tell the cobrador that he has to let me off because I didn't have my passport and my flight was at 4:30. I wasn't sure what I was going to do but I had to get back to my house.<br />
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The driver insists that this idea is ridiculous and that I'll never make it to the airport in time. Call your family, he says. Tell them to go get your passport and I'll call the bus stop to see if the driver will bring it down with him on the bus that leaves at noon. You can wait for him at the bus stop along the highway. I begin to sweat... and curse. The whole bus now knows what's going on. The woman sitting next to me with a chicken in a cardboard box on her lap grabs my hand and tells me to have faith and breathe. Yeah right, lady.<br />
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I call my host dad in a panic and explain to him what's going on and that I needed him to go get my passport. The next bus was leaving at 12, and it was now 11:45. He was in Nagua and my passport was 20 minutes away. I begin to tell him where it was in my house but of course, I lose cell phone signal as we pass through a national park. Meanwhile, my driver had called the next driver to tell him what was going on. He agreed, but said that he wouldn't wait. When we finally come out of the black hole of cell phone signal, I call my host dad. He located my passport and was on the way to the bus stop but I soon find out from my driver that the bus has already left. We call back and ask him to wait about 30 minutes outside of Nagua for my passport to be delivered. He agrees and then we lose signal again before I can tell my host dad where to meet the bus.<br />
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25 minutes later I'm drenched in sweat despite the blasting AC. I get signal back but I'm out of minutes. I borrow my bus driver's phone to find out what was going on. The passport was successfully delivered to the driver of the 12 o'clock bus. As I pass the news to the driver and the cobrador, the entire bus erupts in applause and the chicken lady gives me an "I-told-you-so" smirk.<br />
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When I arrive to the stop in Santo Domingo it's 1pm. My taxi guy is already there waiting for me and I explain that we have to wait an hour for the next bus to arrive before we can head to the airport. At 2pm, the bus pulls into the stop and the driver hands me my passport in it's gold case and says, 200 pesos (about $6). I would have given him 500. Passport in hand, I was off to the airport.<br />
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I know some of you are probably wondering how in the world I forgot my passport. Others are wondering how I put a document with my social security number on it in the hands of perfect strangers. I guess it's like the chicken lady said, have faith. This story is the best example I can give you about the hearts of Dominicans. They never worry, so why should I?<br />
I couldn't think of a better way to leave the country I call home for a quick vacation to the US, which was fabulous!<br />
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xoxo, Kaleylalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-60595149956235892402014-05-15T06:40:00.000-07:002014-05-15T06:45:34.867-07:00Why "Fair Trade" Isn't Really Fair<br />
<div class="western" lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="en-US"><i>Connecting
the chocolate supply chain from my Peace Corps service to your
mid-afternoon sugar buzz</i></span></div>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Let's
face it. It's totally trendy to be conscious about where your food
comes from. Americans and Europeans alike are more than willing to pay a little extra for
a variety of premium items that morally connect the consumer to the
product's origin. </span></span>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Fair
Trade is one of the most recognized certifications today. The logo
which can most commonly be found on coffee and chocolate products
signifies that a premium has been paid for the ingredients. Although
I cannot speak for coffee, in cocoa that premium is critical for
farmers. As it stands currently, the supply of cocoa is dwindling. </span></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihD-Na6FjjsLDJS-ABj4Vt6D0JiuigQTz84O47vdNKXmpZ4mDhVNZ5Hj9OGTwrbaIfWUig-7quyR12FFNa_1RY72iUpaRa5m0KxZlmplagokJ5yvln8qq2EVzhU_TOmgJUjHoqDrVUxpUR/s1600/fairtrade_logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihD-Na6FjjsLDJS-ABj4Vt6D0JiuigQTz84O47vdNKXmpZ4mDhVNZ5Hj9OGTwrbaIfWUig-7quyR12FFNa_1RY72iUpaRa5m0KxZlmplagokJ5yvln8qq2EVzhU_TOmgJUjHoqDrVUxpUR/s1600/fairtrade_logo.png" height="200" width="170" /></a><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Cocoa
doesn't grow just anywhere. The “cocoa belt”, is the tropical
zone that spans 20 degrees north and south of the equator. Most cocoa
farmers (I speak for the DR) are older (60+) and today's youth, which
make up for nearly half of the population, are uninterested in taking
over the family farms for fear being poor like their parents and
grandparents. On the other end of the supply chain, chocolate
consumption worldwide increases at an incredible rate each year. What
does this all mean? Prices on all levels must increase in order to
sustain the cocoa industry. </span></span>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">In
a recent conference with other (Peace Corps) volunteers who work with
cocoa we had the opportunity to speak with the official liaison for
Fair Trade (FLO) in the Dominican Republic, Maria Trinidad. </span></span>
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<div class="western" lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Since
the message to the consumer of Fair Trade products is intended to be
ethical and the little Fair Trade logo appears on the final product,
I wanted to know if Fair Trade required a certain amount (or all) of
the ingredients in a chocolate bar (for example) to be Fair Trade
sourced. The short answer is no. In fact, Maria went as far as to say
that all ingredients in the bar that </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>could</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">
be Fair Trade </span></span><span lang="en-US"><i>should</i></span><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">
be. As you may know, this is impossible. Things like sugar and
vanilla, absolutely. But that chocolate bar contains quite a few more
ingredients that are not Fair Trade. So the logo makes it all the way
to the final product even though a very small amount of the
ingredients are actually Fair Trade. </span></span>
</div>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">That
being said, I want to mention that cocoa is a commodity that is
purchased by the ton from origin. Large chocolate manufacturers buy
thousands of tons of cocoa beans annually and not all of them are
Fair Trade certified or from the same source. What is the likelihood
of Fair Trade beans staying separate from the non-Fair Trade? In
fact, Fair Trade uses a system called 'mass balance' when it comes to
the certified final product. This means that for every chocolate bar
made intended to be certified Fair Trade, that company must buy the
equivalent mass of cocoa under Fair Trade terms. In other words,
that's as far as Fair Trade reaches in content control of the final
certified product and that in reality that chocolate bar may not
contain Fair Trade cocoa beans at all. </span></span>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Let's
talk about the premium that is paid per ton for Fair Trade cocoa
beans. In addition to the floor (minimum) price for the beans, Fair
Trade pays $400 per ton. That breaks down to $20 per quintal (a
quintal is 150 kilos). That money is paid out to the exporting
organization at origin to cover administration costs and what's left
over (?!) is distributed to the farmers. In short, the benefits are
not enough. Not to mention the initial sign-up fee of 550 Euros in
addition to the annual fee to stay certified. </span></span>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maria
says that Fair Trade is the first step for small organizations to
begin exporting. They get certified through larger organizations that
have the capacity to export with the intent that in time they will be
able to use the premiums paid out to export on their own. Here in the
Dominican Republic Fair Trade's poster child is CONOCADO, the first
organization to be Fair Trade certified in the country. CONOCADO
started out as a cooperative for small cocoa producers and has turned
into a three part mega company that is anything but small. However,
for the last two years, CONOCADO has not distributed benefits to
their cocoa farmers. They have lost more than 600 members nationwide
since 2012. Basilio Almonte, head agronomist for CONOCADO was also
present at the conference. When asked why they have failed to pay
benefits to their members, he informed me that the organization had
too many internal expenses and has not been able to distribute
anything to the cocoa farmers. On a whole other level of opaque, the
director of CONOCADO has opened his own private cocoa purchasing
business, BIOCAFCAO, putting himself in direct competition with his
employer, CONOCADO. </span></span>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maria
Trinidad, well aware of the situation at the Fair Trade poster child,
commented that although the transparency issues at CONOCADO are
unfortunate it is the responsibility of the farmers to advocate for
themselves and that Fair Trade cannot be involved in internal affairs
of the certified exporting organizations. </span></span>
</div>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">If
you are familiar with my job here in the DR with La Red Guaconejo,
you have probably read about Taza Chocolate and their Direct Trade
philosophy. Taza works exclusively with organic certified cocoa beans
and on top of paying a minimum of $500 per metric ton above the New
York International Commodities Exchange (ICE) price, owner Alex
Whitmore visits the organization each year in order to ensure
long-term personal relationships with the cocoa farmers. In my
previous blog post you can read a little bit about Alex's most recent
visit to the DR. What's in it for Alex, you may be asking? These
relationships and purchasing principles allow Taza to manufacture and
deliver a high quality, traceable chocolate bar with an ethical
message and a real story to the consumer. The Somerville, MA based
company is not exactly comparable to Nestle or Kraft (Mondalez). Most
famous for their stone ground Mexican style chocolate disks, Taza has
a unique market. </span></span>
</div>
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<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">So
what's the problem? </span></span>
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Is
Fair Trade allowing consumers to believe that a $2 chocolate bar with
their logo on it is just as ethical as an artisan chocolate bar that
costs four times the price? Or will the trendiness of being “food
conscious” or in this case “chocolate conscious” make for a
saavy consumer that knows the difference? </span></span>
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">That,
my friends, is for you all to decide but I whole heartedly encourage
you to be more aware of the origin of you next chocolate buzz. </span></span>
</div>
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lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-39530080901023202392014-05-07T03:32:00.003-07:002014-05-07T03:32:58.233-07:00Chocolate Country<i>Ay bendito.</i><br />
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April was maybe the busiest month of my life and May ain't getting any easier.<br />
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Since my last post lots of things have been happening.<br />
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Last week the owner of Taza Chocolate, Alex Whitmore, was here visiting the coop and staying with me at my house. It was needless to say, an awesome experience. His visit last year was pretty brief. It was clear that La Red was in trouble. This year Alex got to meet the new board of directors and buying team and had the opportunity to really see what's going on inside the organization. </div>
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If you don't know what Taza (Somerville, Massachusetts based chocolate company) is all about, check them out <a href="http://www.tazachocolate.com/About" target="_blank">here</a>. Super cool company. You should also check out their transparency reports that feature each place where they buy their organic beans from. </div>
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Now watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4OXaLeZ3vs" target="_blank">this</a> video so you can make the connection between Taza and my project. Seriously though go watch the video or you won't understand the importance of this post. </div>
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Aside from the fact that we got some negotiating done, we will be sending a container of organic cacao (<i>si dios quiere</i>) to Taza in the beginning of June. I swear, when that container leaves port in Caucedo I'm going to drink and entire bottle of Brugal and dance for 3 days. No joke. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQE1ytowS4A5UiKDqd-64WB9lb272XoWs5UqutGdDaqhXpFn4ND2W3STT-90IGEu4rE29W7s2XOFkVnCt-vD5wNGenXXZAKRZDQC2ciwV9e7ep03VjmqdRC-l0W5eCCeEDGHx6FHOEk8jz/s1600/IMG_1454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQE1ytowS4A5UiKDqd-64WB9lb272XoWs5UqutGdDaqhXpFn4ND2W3STT-90IGEu4rE29W7s2XOFkVnCt-vD5wNGenXXZAKRZDQC2ciwV9e7ep03VjmqdRC-l0W5eCCeEDGHx6FHOEk8jz/s1600/IMG_1454.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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The new team at Coop La Red Guaconejo with Alex</div>
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The president of the coop and I</div>
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Lunch and fresh coconuts</div>
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Speaking of dancing, Alex loves himself some merengue tipico. Lucky for him, that type of music and style of dance comes from Nagua! Monday night we went to a "tipico" which is a live merengue band that plays right on the beach. People put on their Monday best and head out to dance the night away. And that's just what we did. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KZZpEB5stawvQ_zZAVJVgGzkpnUoNrPJQtBs5R9nvTyZE4EHDcTXWQtUDbHqbNXg6YKH4xEwvmucfNqDWo1-kvv6QrojVnDPXG9v1WvW967JeNu-voB4g8MUsrxeG3FNJOoNelRVyg44/s1600/IMG_1405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KZZpEB5stawvQ_zZAVJVgGzkpnUoNrPJQtBs5R9nvTyZE4EHDcTXWQtUDbHqbNXg6YKH4xEwvmucfNqDWo1-kvv6QrojVnDPXG9v1WvW967JeNu-voB4g8MUsrxeG3FNJOoNelRVyg44/s1600/IMG_1405.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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Alex dancing with our secretary Ariana</div>
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Early in the night. </div>
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After an extremely late night, we headed out early to do some visits. Our first one was at the house of the ex-administrator of the coop. Although she is no long with La Red, Alex worked with her for many years and wanted to say hello. Here I am with her niece, Irvianni. </div>
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From there our visits continued to OkoCaribe, another cacao association in San Francisco de Macoris where Alex buys organic beans. </div>
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choco talk.</div>
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From there we headed down to the capital for some more meetings and further discussions of the industry and it's future. </div>
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Alex's wife Kathleen designed our logo that you see on the sacks in the above pictures. He's been traveling down here for 7 years to work with La Red. They flew 5 members of the coop to the US in 2012 to see how chocolate is made in their factory. Alex pays $920 over NY market price per ton for our organic cacao because of it's quality (that's a really good price).</div>
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He has made it clear that Taza will do whatever they can to see La Red successful and sustainable again and I'm more than grateful. And he brought me tons of chocolate and I'm now addicted to stone ground organic 70% dark, so thanks for that, Alex. </div>
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It's been a long ride and as I said, it's long from over. </div>
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<i>Siempre pa'lante, </i>Kaley</div>
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Juan Ureña, a new member of coop Red Guaconejo with a cacao tree extremely flush with pods. </div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-18011150097376767622014-03-18T16:30:00.000-07:002014-03-18T16:31:15.395-07:00Smells Like CacaoI wish I could make the aroma hit your nose as you're reading this. It's an intoxicatingly rich smell that I can't get enough of. The smell of raw cacao drying in the blistering Dominican sun. For 4 months when I walked into my project there was nothing. The smell of grass or exhaust but not cacao. The smell of cacao coming from the competition as I passed by on a motorcycle made me more determined.<br />
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Today, when you set foot on the grounds of the cooperative Red Guaconejo, you will smell cacao.<br />
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Baby steps.<br />
That's what it takes to get an organization that is completely <i>tirado al suelo</i> (thrown on the floor) up and running. And we're still pretty far from the end of the tunnel.<br />
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When I got here in November, the Cooperative Red Guaconejo was totally closed. Gates shut. A couple days a week there were people working in the tree nursery, but not much movement. For many of it's members it pained them to even enter the premises after the crisis that happened there. The gates were overgrown with weeds, cacao dryers empty and fermentation boxes dirty and full of trash. It pained me to see it too after seeing all of the publicity that they had gotten. They were the poster child for direct trade organic cacao of extremely high quality.<br />
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We knew the old administration had to go. At the end of November we had the coop's first ever assembly which should normally happen once a year. The members were informed and the gate were opened. A new board of directors was elected. First step to getting the place open.<br />
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After naming positions on the board and starting to have weekly meetings, we slowly began to piece things together. We sent in the request to have the signatures on the bank account changed (horrific process that's still not over) and cleaned up the grounds. Getting the office turned over to the new board was a chore. No one knew where anything was and it was a total mess.<br />
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Meanwhile the development organization from Nagua that was supposed to be supporting the coop (SODIN) blew apart at the seams, causing issues with administration at the coop. The administrator was accused of stealing money from projects and then resigned. My project partner (employee of SODIN) who is the accountant and sales manager for the coop was left unpaid. In January the administrator of the coop disappeared to the US for a month and then came back to announce that he would be leaving the project too.<br />
At the end of December our "security guard" was attacked and left for dead on the side of the road, gun stolen from him while on duty. Naturally he came at us for money right away. Money that we did not have.<br />
With his demands came forward the old employees who had been screwing the coop over for months charging monthly for work they were not doing, demanding the money we owed them. The place was closed! There was no one working there!We needed a secretary really badly in order to keep the doors open. When we asked the old one to come back she laughed and demanded the money she was supposedly owed.<br />
Needless to say, at the end of December I was feeling pretty hopeless. Things were not looking good. I sent an email to the owner of Taza Chocolate explaining what was going on and felt like crying after.<br />
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January 14 IMOCARIBE, the organization that does our organic certifications informed us that we were months behind on turning in the inspections of the cacao fields. We had to get them turned in by the end of January or there would be no certified organic cacao to export from La Red. Somehow we got an extension and completed them. Now we're just waiting for the inspector to come out and approve it. The was the first glimpse of hope that we had seen in a very, very long time.<br />
Mid January we turned some profit from the nursery as the trees were finally mature enough to sell.<br />
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Then in February we had one of the trucks for the project converted from gasoline to propane. This was one of the best ideas we've had so far because our biggest expense was gas for the trucks. In the middle of the month I met Ariana, a 21 year old accounting student who was willing to work as a secretary for free until we could pay her. It was the break we needed. Although we had very little money to buy cacao with, if we had the doors open the people could at least see that we're there.<br />
That same week my project partner and I sat down with the guys who go into the fields to buy cacao to make a plan for purchasing. We went community by community estimating how much cacao they could buy each month of the harvest. With this in mind, we could then budget how much profit we need to make right away to be able to have enough to keep buying.<br />
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We took out 75,000 pesos and sent the guys into the communities to buy. It's not much, but we are buying and selling conventional (not organic) cacao locally and very carefully calculating the cost-price ratio to make sure we make some money to keep buying and handle our expenses.<br />
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I know it's not much, but it's progress. </div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-57100229495058138892014-03-06T17:49:00.002-08:002014-03-06T17:49:56.369-08:00ONE YEAR OMGALKSDJASKDJALKJDAD That's right. One year ago today I boarded a plane with 32 strangers to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. Or some super cliche shit like that.<br />
<br />
No but seriously I can't believe it's been a year, maybe the fastest year of my life thus far?<br />
I could have NEVER predicted what it would be like but it's definitely been one hell of a ride. So glad my Peace Corps family has my back, without them I wouldn't still be here. 517-13-01 we out here!!!<br />
<br />
Well, in celebration of the anniversary I'll give you a photo memorial. But not before telling you the 25 things that make it official that I'm a year deep (sorry people at home, this is mainly for PCVs, pictures below):<br />
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1. My pinta...neon and obnoxious prints. flow.so.hard.<br />
2. My nails are always painted and matching my toes (duh, gotta be bien combinada)<br />
3. I walk around with an umbrella not for rain but for shade because I HATE THE SUN<br />
4. I crave beans and rice (I wish this were false)<br />
5. I scrunch my nose (non verbal communication for "what?")<br />
6. My spanglish is at an all time high<br />
7. My English is at an all time low ("I have hunger.." english is hard)<br />
8. I don't do anything when it rains or between the hours of noon and 2.<br />
9. I scream WEYYYYY out car windows and from the back of motorcycles to get people's attention<br />
10. There is always music blasting from my phone or apartment<br />
11. Other people standing near me when I'm sitting down makes me nervous (sietate, por dios)<br />
12. I show up to meetings 30 minutes late just to suffer a bit less (since most will show up an hour late)<br />
13. I answer my phone basically no matter what I'm doing because I don't have minutes to call that person back<br />
14. I tirar back when I get piropo-ed<br />
15. Lines? those are for Americans. That Doña will run you over!<br />
16. I can't go more than 2 weeks without going to the beach (torture, I'm telling you)<br />
17. Presidente beer still doesn't taste good<br />
18. I forgot what it's like to go out like a normal person...can't we just dance Bachata?<br />
19. Brug and Jug (Brugal rum and jugo) emborrachars me de una vez<br />
20. I WALK REALLY SLOOOOWWW<br />
21. I talk to the stranger next to me on the guagua<br />
22. I speak in PC acronyms<br />
23. I refer to diarrhea as "the princess"<br />
24. I plan my day around the electricity schedule <br />
25. I live to plan the next beach party. Holler!<br />
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Day 1</div>
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First night in country..how do I put this thing up?</div>
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Volunteer visit to Pedernales</div>
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Training in Yamasa</div>
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Swear in Ceremony!</div>
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4th of July in Samana</div>
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Ridin' dirty in Barahona</div>
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Calle 8 Montecristi</div>
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Med Mission at ILAC in Santiago</div>
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Construye tus Sueños National Conference 2013</div>
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"Eso es cacaaaooooo"</div>
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Thanksgiving rooftop bash in Santo Domingo</div>
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Presidente brindando in SD</div>
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O'toole's!</div>
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Chicago</div>
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NYE in Cabarete</div>
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Patronales in Nagua</div>
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Mini Vac at Playa Grande, Rio San Juan</div>
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Trip #2 to Montecristi to see this gem</div>
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T-minus 14 months to go! </div>
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xoxo Kaley</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-9894126063537360632014-02-15T11:57:00.002-08:002014-02-15T12:09:11.063-08:00Recent Happenings in my KitchenNow that I don't live with a host family I finally have full control over my diet...which means a few less rice and beans meals. And not much meat because I hate raw meat and here if you want chicken you're getting all of the chicken, including the feet. barf.<br />
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Food availability here can be tricky. Sometimes rice and beans is all you can get and in that case that's what volunteers eat. Some have never cooked a meal here because they continue to eat at their host family's house. I live in a decent sized pueblo so my food availability is pretty good.<br />
The Dominican diet doesn't have nearly as many veggies in it as the American one. Maybe that's just my opinion, but I happen to like veggies so I stock up when the truck comes by.<br />
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Some veggies in their routine bleach bath before consumption. </div>
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Apparently I was hungry? Yes those are Kraft singles. There are some things I just can't live without!</div>
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Veggie fried rice with teriyaki sautéed cabbage</div>
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Cucumber-onion-dill vinegar salad</div>
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Passion fruit juice :)</div>
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Midnight snack: Peanut butter and banana sandwich with homemade dark chocolate sauce</div>
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Rosemary pan fried potatoes with cheese and 2 over easy eggs. And hot sauce. </div>
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Tuna salad on whole wheat toast. </div>
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There you have it. Because I know you were wondering what I eat these days. There are things I can buy here in my pueblo, things I have to buy in Nagua (wheat bread, yogurt, kraft singles, cereal) and things I have to buy in Santo Domingo (good cheese, salad dressing, good hot sauce, olives). Enjoy all your delicious food (and conveinence) up there in America!!! And your dishwasher. Man I hate washing dishes. </div>
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xoxo Kaley</div>
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lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-57908460183249321472014-02-04T06:26:00.001-08:002014-02-04T06:32:17.777-08:00When I workSo you could definitely say that Peace Corps volunteers do not work a typical work schedule. In fact, when we arrive to country they tell us that we work 24/7.<br />
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My thoughts exactly. </div>
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And it's the truth. Kind of. I'm a huge believer in "if you love your job you never work a day in your life". Because it's true! </div>
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How is it that I work 24/7 you ask? Well, the three main goals of Peace Corps are:</div>
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<ul class="listul" style="background-color: #e1dec7; border: 0px; color: #45413e; font-family: 'helvetica neue', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; list-style: none none; margin: 3px 0px 1em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<li style="background-image: url(http://assets.peacecorps.gov/images/bkgd/bullet-3x3.png); background-position: 0px 7px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 13px; vertical-align: baseline;">To help the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women</li>
<li style="background-image: url(http://assets.peacecorps.gov/images/bkgd/bullet-3x3.png); background-position: 0px 7px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 13px; vertical-align: baseline;">To help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served</li>
<li style="background-image: url(http://assets.peacecorps.gov/images/bkgd/bullet-3x3.png); background-position: 0px 7px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 13px; vertical-align: baseline;">To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans</li>
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So let's break it down.<br />
Goal #1. Meeting the need for trained peeps. I'm here, and I'm doing everything I can for my project. So that's like the actual going to my project and working part, which I do probably 3-4 days of the week. I also teach an income generation class to women and hang out with young people, injecting my dos pesos about how they need to graduate from college and wait to get married and have kids (not necessarily in that order) whenever I can .<br />
Goal #2. Spreading the joy of American culture. I am doing this every time I leave my house by getting started at, 24/7. I'm used to it by now. Practicing English with Dominicans, talking about food, customs, weather etc in the US and answering any other ridiculous questions (what year is it in the United States?).<br />
Goal #3. Spreading the joy of other cultures with Americans. Believe it or not, sadly, this is the hardest one. You ass holes who are outraged by the Coca Cola Super Bowl commercial are not making it any easier. But this blog is a good example of goal #3. Talking about my experiences with I'm home is another...but the real life saver for goal #3 is social media. Instagram, specifically. If you're on Instagram check out the pics other PCVs upload by searching #peacecorps. Pretty awesome.<br />
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In addition to all of that, I gotta integrate into this culture, gain trust from the people I live and work with, make friends and do all of this in Spanish. It's a lot. And often stressful.<br />
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So that's why I don't feel too bad when we have our regional minivac meetings at the beach....<br />
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In our swimsuits. With plenty of booze in pineapples. </div>
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Then we stopped by the Laguna Dudu on our way back to Nagua. Laguna Dudu is like this huge lagoon above underwater caves. It's about 20% saltwater and they have an awesome park and zipline. Fabulousness. </div>
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Boys playing soccer right before Jackson broke his toe :(</div>
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On Sunday I headed to Santo Domingo early with my host mom to the Geraghty med mission (more info <a href="http://www.macla.org/who-we-are.php" target="_blank">here</a>). Last April she had her thyroid removed and when they did the surgery they also paralyzed one of her vocal chords. When I got the email from PC that Geraghty was bringing an ENT specialist I immediately sent an email to see if there was anything they could do. Dr. G emailed me back saying they would bring the equipment to inject her paralyzed vocal chord in hopes to make her talk and breathe normally. She'd kill me if she knew I put this on the internet but here she is post surgery happy as a clam!</div>
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Everything turned out well and hopefully within a month she will see results. </div>
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Sunday night despite being exhausted I dragged myself to a sports bar (like a good American) with some other volunteers who were translating at the med mission to watch the Super Bowl and eat wings. There were margaritas too. </div>
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My trip to the Capital will end tomorrow with maybe on of the coolest things I am working on here. I was invited to work on a commission with the United Nations Development Program to work on a project platform for a sustainable cacao industry here in the DR. All of the big players in the cacao sector are participating and it's an awesome initiative to improve the productivity of an industry that has an incredibly high demand internationally. Info <a href="http://www.undp.org/content/undp/en/home.html" target="_blank">here</a> on the program in general and a detailed description of the project <a href="http://www.do.undp.org/content/dominican_republic/es/home/operations/projects/environment_and_energy/produccion-sostenible-del-cacao-en-republica-dominicana/" target="_blank">here</a> (in Spanish, sorry non bilingual friends). </div>
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Love and paz from the DR!! xoxo</div>
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Kaley</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-82331755419908893792014-01-19T18:25:00.001-08:002014-01-19T18:29:47.897-08:00A boatSo today (Sunday) I had to work. Not by choice but a lot of associations and organizations at a local level meet on Sundays because it's when most of their members can come. <div>A little background. When volunteers arrive to the country for training we have no idea where we will live for the next 2 years. Don't know what out job will be or who the family is that we will live with for our first few months. And for all I know neither does my boss. Hah. </div><div>To find projects for business volunteers there is a decent amount of (dique) sight development involved. The projects must be identified as feasible and workable an the community safe for a volunteer to live. Well 'tis the season. Another batch of business volunteers are arriving in March (yes, that means I've been here for almost a year. No idea how or when that happened) and they are in need of projects and sites for them. Peace corps reaches out to current PCVs for ideas and potential sites. </div><div>So that's what I did today. Thanks to one of my coworkers from SODIN (the development organization I work with) I went out to a community called Boba which is located between nagua and cabrera to check out a fishermans association and ecotourism project in the community. The site is beautiful and right on the beach...</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvah6pFf4RJomlZG4QmdNwhZwbAuLI5vfThZ45rF240Wmq9j8d7FDUESmk4dMxlhF4RmtycQL488KQQKqtWBGONkVjYlVu-6LfxargSqUeEKUOL-N7hLJc_CqF1zn47Vcwd3RLZKFqBiY/s640/blogger-image--1281394272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvah6pFf4RJomlZG4QmdNwhZwbAuLI5vfThZ45rF240Wmq9j8d7FDUESmk4dMxlhF4RmtycQL488KQQKqtWBGONkVjYlVu-6LfxargSqUeEKUOL-N7hLJc_CqF1zn47Vcwd3RLZKFqBiY/s640/blogger-image--1281394272.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There's also a lagoon </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nKI9jL-L3eIfoNd-XRTjOguT9Nii4ZRSheZ7SQEL7GtwRPeKju8bI2HtFFMeTf5wu54mE5x9LZa3PEii2KyiBTTwK6G09Z6kebG_TPPr93uOnY_K6MNswa1LSHx0XuDsnm8dbwoFmvhB/s640/blogger-image--272162734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nKI9jL-L3eIfoNd-XRTjOguT9Nii4ZRSheZ7SQEL7GtwRPeKju8bI2HtFFMeTf5wu54mE5x9LZa3PEii2KyiBTTwK6G09Z6kebG_TPPr93uOnY_K6MNswa1LSHx0XuDsnm8dbwoFmvhB/s640/blogger-image--272162734.jpg"></a></div><br></div>But the most curious part of my visit? This. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUWn8myg-FXCDbDOySicT298nPMux9VrRJ041S-L8CdWoJ8n7jS3K7TvCZ5m-TkF7VmCh-ktngO7RNsYHdu1URmvDiING5WTcyLcNz-4vqeFCazX993JQ_3pSVXzRgJ9mok9lA2eyzpvK/s640/blogger-image--541702536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUWn8myg-FXCDbDOySicT298nPMux9VrRJ041S-L8CdWoJ8n7jS3K7TvCZ5m-TkF7VmCh-ktngO7RNsYHdu1URmvDiING5WTcyLcNz-4vqeFCazX993JQ_3pSVXzRgJ9mok9lA2eyzpvK/s640/blogger-image--541702536.jpg"></a></div>A fishing boat, right? Nope. A fishing boat doesn't require this kind of security. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLkT27EOCry-e8uxkG_xuZ70TlkAs5SJOxvqskRBFj-Ghvde8WzXZLiislbWek1gIYT4AoaUf5LHUb4DXmkCloEPnosb9xfl41DU1-TwyQhM60fx7HRj5k5RxnAAz_LcP1NoYvSxXevlA/s640/blogger-image--1298455865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLkT27EOCry-e8uxkG_xuZ70TlkAs5SJOxvqskRBFj-Ghvde8WzXZLiislbWek1gIYT4AoaUf5LHUb4DXmkCloEPnosb9xfl41DU1-TwyQhM60fx7HRj5k5RxnAAz_LcP1NoYvSxXevlA/s640/blogger-image--1298455865.jpg"></a></div>He's a Dominican marine and that's an automatic weapon. </div><div>So what is this thing?</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlUU5SPhFCBr6MvlM0pLK78SXpRYh_K7Qo-XnJA2WIaLhgCzlJNIP_wKwLbbLgOApCl2CHObcqHqaYuI6YJKL1yQF8WcX9ba6hGuSIypF7ffKluy5j_YcjzJxR1lus1kCrMMMfby5kuxzL/s640/blogger-image--931175367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlUU5SPhFCBr6MvlM0pLK78SXpRYh_K7Qo-XnJA2WIaLhgCzlJNIP_wKwLbbLgOApCl2CHObcqHqaYuI6YJKL1yQF8WcX9ba6hGuSIypF7ffKluy5j_YcjzJxR1lus1kCrMMMfby5kuxzL/s640/blogger-image--931175367.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjsqO_MnqDpBDGgcxVlL4a1qUNLsEEhyEQ-wkEXy8AR1u8odShpOkunZUjOCZjKtF9GVsCTNvYcUEZuHgoF1ylBeVHTIzSHxnZokEPe1tKLl-B9M-ocsBJZvXJCYV4_OSUBqkroRnrFMF/s640/blogger-image--2013691219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjsqO_MnqDpBDGgcxVlL4a1qUNLsEEhyEQ-wkEXy8AR1u8odShpOkunZUjOCZjKtF9GVsCTNvYcUEZuHgoF1ylBeVHTIzSHxnZokEPe1tKLl-B9M-ocsBJZvXJCYV4_OSUBqkroRnrFMF/s640/blogger-image--2013691219.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's a human smuggling boat. Someone back in the mangroves makes them and then they float them out to the ocean to fill with people who have paid roughly 1000 USD to go to Puerto Rico. The trip takes 3-4 days (without any complications) and obvi there is no bathroom on this ship. Give that some thought. The nice marine with the machine gun says this is a smaller boat designed for about 60 people. In that thing?! It's hardly 30 feet long. My family's boat is like 27 feet long and comfortably seats about 8. Do the math. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This boat didn't make it. When they found it washed up down the beach it was almost empty. It had nothing but some gas tanks and an outboard motor in it. The marine says they don't know if there were ever people in it but that in his year of patrolling this part of the coast they have found about a dozen boats larger than this one that have either been abandoned at sea, caught leaving full of people or confiscated before finishing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So when the catch people everyone gets detained for questioning, mostly to find out who runs the operation, and are then let go. The bosses never go with the boats, there is usually a guide with a plan b if they get caught. The marine tells me they've never caught a boat with a guide in it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Tomorrow they will burn the boat and send pictures to their superiors as confirmation and it will disappear just like those peoples dreams of illegal immigration. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">All that to go to the US. And here i was thinking I kinda like it here? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Going to the US is something almost every Dominican talks about. Everyone has a tio or a primo who lives "alla" in nueva yol. It's some peoples lifelong goal to get their kids there (by trying to marry me off to their kids and grand kids. Nice try abuela). Men marry American women to send money to their wives and kids down here. In fact, there is a song that's called "pa mangar mi visa" or "to get my visa" and the main chorus goes a little something like this: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I want an American girl!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What for?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">To get my visa x12</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I want an American girl that doesn't understand me at all</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I want an American girl who gives me everything I want</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I want an American girl who will get me out of here</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">To get, to get, to get me my visa</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">For those of you who don't know, there is a huge Dominican population in the Bronx and Washington heights. And I mean huge. Supposedly there are as many Dominicans there as there are on this island. I think that's a myth. I'm anxious to go when I finish my pc service. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have a Dominican friend living in New Jersey. He moved to the US 5 years ago and talking to him about the cultural differences has been really interesting. Not to mention fun for both of us because we live in each other's motherlands. And bilingual people are cool. It's a little perspective for both of us. Hi Melvin :) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">If you're interested in learning more about the cultural limbo (if you will) between the United States and the dr (or if you have ever dated a Dominican man or ARE a Dominican man) I encourage you to read the works of Junot Diaz. They are so spot on that they have nearly brought me to tears and I don't cry much people. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In the meantime I wish Dominicans wanted to stay in their own country to really make it the fabulous place that is has the potential to be. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgXhJyba5D7r-wZX9CR5JSFrbyi6Wk0kWRFk9y27MYbtz_Uyxu8F3FwFQtIBYPH0yXAwdNr219GpejT_VsNVijOtiaXq6io59WZuogIciur8BlB2ZPrwlLMKpcwcsVvg3ZkYQLf8n_0HR/s640/blogger-image--1441489093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgXhJyba5D7r-wZX9CR5JSFrbyi6Wk0kWRFk9y27MYbtz_Uyxu8F3FwFQtIBYPH0yXAwdNr219GpejT_VsNVijOtiaXq6io59WZuogIciur8BlB2ZPrwlLMKpcwcsVvg3ZkYQLf8n_0HR/s640/blogger-image--1441489093.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Buuuuueno. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Paz y Amor for your motherland, Kaley </div><br></div>lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-97878349128016772014-01-14T06:49:00.002-08:002014-01-14T06:49:39.340-08:00Coming HomeGreetings loved ones, I'm back. Annnd it's halfway through January...when did that happen???<br />
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After a snowy, cold 2 weeks in the US I've now been back in the DR for about 15 days.<br />
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There was a lot of snow. But I got to see almost allll the important people in my life and it was great.<br />
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Our annual post-Christmas Chicago trip to shop and eat. </div>
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I brought 2 full size jam-packed suitcases back with me (mostly clothes and christmas presents and stuff for volunteers who didn't go home for the holidays). Because obviously I wouldn't travel light. Not me, ever. But I will tell you my new clothes were much needed (flow.so.hard).</div>
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I must tell you I was a bit nervous to come back. Would I hate it now that I had been back in the first world enjoying modern conveniences, hot water, driving and throwing the TP in the toilet? Luckily my dear friend Sam and I (<a href="http://skinneypeacecorps.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">this is her blog</a>) arrived to the DR almost at the same time, which was a fabulous culture shock/coping mechanism. We were greeted at the airport by some familiar faces and made our way into the concrete jungle of Santo Domingo. </div>
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The truth? It was great to be back. We eased into the new year with a hundred something other volunteers in the beach town of Cabarete on the north coast and even though the weather wasn't ideal (rains in the winter here) it was great to see everyone. </div>
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Sam and I</div>
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Kate Sam and I</div>
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Some people I like. </div>
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Then we headed back to site on the 4th. I spent a couple days with my host family finishing out the Christmas season (which ends January 6th here because of the King's Day) and then...........I MOVED!</div>
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Yep. Move number like 15 since I've been in Peace Corps? meh. I moved into a rooftop apartment about 5 minutes walking from my host family's house...let's just say it's pretty different from my previous living situation. </div>
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So that's it! 2013 ended a little rough, so I have high hopes for 2014. </div>
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More updates on my projects and "work" coming soon. </div>
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Besos!! Kaley</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-51130386133606659402013-12-16T04:10:00.001-08:002013-12-16T04:10:45.719-08:00Quick update before I go to the Motherland!So this will probably be my last blog post for a week or two and I'll warn ya, the next post will be all the food I eat in the US...<br />
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It's weird, a week in half ago I was totally checked out from work and all things Peace Corps related because I was so excited to go home. Then I started making a slideshow of pictures from my service so far and it almost brought me to tears!! Wtf!!!<br />
No but in all seriousness I do love it here and my new site is totally to thank for that. I had dozens of people tell me that everyone who gets a site change loves their new site and I somehow couldn't believe them. Guilty.<br />
I am nonetheless ecstatic to be going home even though theres a lot of snow. It's only 2 weeks, right?! and then I'll be joining all of my fellow PCVs in Cabarete for a few days at the beach to ring in the new year.<br />
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So real quick, on Thursday we participated in an activity in Santo Domingo put on the PNUD, which is the United Nations development agency. The objective of the activity was awesome- instead of just throwing money at what they thought was necessary, the invited actual cacao producers, the farmers, to the activity to get their opinion on what is needed to make the cacao industry successful and sustainable. In addition to producers there were buyers, development workers (like myself), cooperatives and management companies, among others. We chose what theme we wanted to work with, broke up into groups and created objectives, goals and indicators. I obviously chose social and economic sustainability. At the end, we presented our findings and agreed to continue meeting monthly in Santo Domingo until July in order to put together the framework for the platform of the project. Super exciting.<br />
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Andres, Ramon and Juana (cacao producers) participating in the activity.</div>
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Frank (the new president of the cooperative) and Angel (our accounting/sales guy and my project partner) participating in the accounting activities. </div>
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That night I stayed with Lucija, our FSO that we stayed with on Thanksgiving. With the little time we were together we went down to the park on Bolivar to check out the Christmas lights. I have NEVER seen lights like this!</div>
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Obviously Presidente sponsored like, all of it. And what DOESN'T a giant can of beer have to do with Christmas?! </div>
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blurry iphone pics. always a treat!</div>
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Happy Holidays!! Kaley</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-28915207169692741732013-12-06T16:56:00.001-08:002013-12-06T16:56:03.307-08:00Mayuli's visitMayuli is the safety and security coordinator for all of the peace corps volunteers in the DR. I think it's safe to say that her job is extremely important and let me tell you, she does it well. <div>If it wasn't for how she handled all of my security incidents, I probably wouldn't still be here, even though sometimes I wanted to scream. Sigh. </div><div>Anyway so her plan was to visit Jackson on Thursday and to do so she has to pass thru my site, so naturally I went too. Jackson lives in a small campo called Vuelta Larga. By chance, my host dad is his project partner and my host family is from there. So we have some good connections going on, plus my pueblo is the closest civilization to Jax. </div><div>To get up to Vuelta Larga is not exactly easy. It's about 45 minutes into the mountainside crossing 5 rivers that do not have bridges and then one hell of an uphill climb. For Jackson to come down he has to walk about an hour and then get on a motorcycle for another 30ish minutes just to get to the highway. </div><div>The first time I went we had to walk (about 2 hours) because the road wasn't in any condition to be passed. I woke up Thursday morning multiple times between 3am and 7am to pounding rain. When you have a zinc roof it gets pretty loud. Hard rain in this country means 2 things. Rising rivers and mud. Since there is zero cell phone service in Vuelta Larga, I called Mayuli to let her know that I doubted we'd be able to get up there because of the rain. She said they were coming anyway. 15 minutes later a drenched Jackson arrived to my house on a motorcycle. Shortly after Mayuli arrived with the peace corps driver and we decided we were going to give it a go, much to my host family's dismay. Mayuli shared with us tht recently in another Latin American country two piece corps volunteers and 2 staff members were killed after being swept away while trying to cross a torrent river after heavy rain. It was going to be an adenture! </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDD5XeDaHMCV3dlqWZdZwUk58kj1Bq-NObvx69qJTLNFRB3OX9_Voap3u3t-59niJ5-CgK5seUfkb9yglZ_NS360twV72nCaOqABQ-mCjf9Q-z6qKOeO3jmB3pWEBViojKZFBa95iCgPxA/s640/blogger-image-372840142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDD5XeDaHMCV3dlqWZdZwUk58kj1Bq-NObvx69qJTLNFRB3OX9_Voap3u3t-59niJ5-CgK5seUfkb9yglZ_NS360twV72nCaOqABQ-mCjf9Q-z6qKOeO3jmB3pWEBViojKZFBa95iCgPxA/s640/blogger-image-372840142.jpg"></a></div>The boss inspecting river #1 to be crossed. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLoyXh0BXjRkabFQQQIMNVZaSITKQWH6u6N0GXmTEqDek8Ad7YCwNcAUC13xoKLx8Eh-P87Kmnn_nf35tw5Y7EgX7aTus1V2uGAz3_zC4LPBnI2cAeFTMrwgJQJU9aBBq9Jdy30RMGP1a/s640/blogger-image-627179195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLoyXh0BXjRkabFQQQIMNVZaSITKQWH6u6N0GXmTEqDek8Ad7YCwNcAUC13xoKLx8Eh-P87Kmnn_nf35tw5Y7EgX7aTus1V2uGAz3_zC4LPBnI2cAeFTMrwgJQJU9aBBq9Jdy30RMGP1a/s640/blogger-image-627179195.jpg"></a></div>This is probably the easiest one we crossed. I'm not posting the pics of the last one because I don't need to worry my mother who religiously reads this blog (probably the only person). </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIU6HPJa9cO_IryWk1eOwdbSP6XNOGzZxAgk2O8MTSJ7THAWA_GrkDEKkzWKdSeeFdwGHnt0SeY2iEdDz3audYR3XJMTiXKAKPdvSJrbFRwhiODKn25AMaXGH32tn5ek-xWO0sDgRg-cT/s640/blogger-image-1987820096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIU6HPJa9cO_IryWk1eOwdbSP6XNOGzZxAgk2O8MTSJ7THAWA_GrkDEKkzWKdSeeFdwGHnt0SeY2iEdDz3audYR3XJMTiXKAKPdvSJrbFRwhiODKn25AMaXGH32tn5ek-xWO0sDgRg-cT/s640/blogger-image-1987820096.jpg"></a></div>On the way up!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNt-4uLco8VndQ3cIdngwalEOmCoRlfZx-Na-cdqQK6kFdKgkT6yan-XRI1wdZ_Y1OpyiKi3z7eSwXw9IxUFuapiZXYtkYGuzB6e0JFsgm3P1Y3BEgf8nxTRZxBW_BO1lTCKa3c66t4YOb/s640/blogger-image--2129336554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNt-4uLco8VndQ3cIdngwalEOmCoRlfZx-Na-cdqQK6kFdKgkT6yan-XRI1wdZ_Y1OpyiKi3z7eSwXw9IxUFuapiZXYtkYGuzB6e0JFsgm3P1Y3BEgf8nxTRZxBW_BO1lTCKa3c66t4YOb/s640/blogger-image--2129336554.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VJSjHJfLEXfXG57ThyF7_0qNR0AOAETcsrO0UMVTPZmRVTqukqt0eiVlMfo0Gh_BMId-oKXYHxYWTWE-H7Ctt86DYFazYL8m7jQ7NLSdpj9SQemE1vfYcWXk93wUwB2FQDCbCKd_1_3p/s640/blogger-image--1492117082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VJSjHJfLEXfXG57ThyF7_0qNR0AOAETcsrO0UMVTPZmRVTqukqt0eiVlMfo0Gh_BMId-oKXYHxYWTWE-H7Ctt86DYFazYL8m7jQ7NLSdpj9SQemE1vfYcWXk93wUwB2FQDCbCKd_1_3p/s640/blogger-image--1492117082.jpg"></a></div>Yes, that pile of rocks is what the entire "road" looks like. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUCjPXq5VMXKXMaTggUGYHT2bfSvUH20q3zOE8Q_7rlwNAIhfqosHGQ4KEFuhljwvmF2xkCQm2OPlJaWQWdx_14nagvWReWL7t4IaUZy3e0mmbbXPGJsbPYxbMAYgsdj5yrHoiifU7ng5a/s640/blogger-image-1204287691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUCjPXq5VMXKXMaTggUGYHT2bfSvUH20q3zOE8Q_7rlwNAIhfqosHGQ4KEFuhljwvmF2xkCQm2OPlJaWQWdx_14nagvWReWL7t4IaUZy3e0mmbbXPGJsbPYxbMAYgsdj5yrHoiifU7ng5a/s640/blogger-image-1204287691.jpg"></a></div>I will tell you, it sure is pretty up there. But this has got to be one of the most desolate volunteer sites out there. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcVf9S84NawhmpEJikNFNi_0fJPn4-Nv5jpXZcGW4uoEGLptitW9Aj-Afe2PDoMEfdw_KlwNQJOaFvayrHiumuaeFRvLFzLLKTt_dKhHUURrw6oUO-hCym1Sgkf5tQv7jydZyLhF0dXh2/s640/blogger-image--2016507965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcVf9S84NawhmpEJikNFNi_0fJPn4-Nv5jpXZcGW4uoEGLptitW9Aj-Afe2PDoMEfdw_KlwNQJOaFvayrHiumuaeFRvLFzLLKTt_dKhHUURrw6oUO-hCym1Sgkf5tQv7jydZyLhF0dXh2/s640/blogger-image--2016507965.jpg"></a></div>Main road through the community. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53t8xupDT1uIui4UY45VR3cHPern-rGK6ljI50h2Wp7cnB9E2Rwr-znsESVFX2dNKau0irnT2UrnLnjEg6XNQUZHyEgpiSLJEl4F6jPGDb573Oa_j7dwc3UjLeqk4ikregf11JKW_QC6m/s640/blogger-image-651539728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53t8xupDT1uIui4UY45VR3cHPern-rGK6ljI50h2Wp7cnB9E2Rwr-znsESVFX2dNKau0irnT2UrnLnjEg6XNQUZHyEgpiSLJEl4F6jPGDb573Oa_j7dwc3UjLeqk4ikregf11JKW_QC6m/s640/blogger-image-651539728.jpg"></a></div>Jackson's host family's house an my host family's old house. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG16A2FaVl9RGCjWdmsopV5YOGhLPIUVLoId75DMUJ2VMfDlEP9L0bTOTAPrYzCwXDIL7nOD3Wgs6ocEq5UJ62KZMvkpm3eLaCddZr_HyJHQg31wq1ycjwb-CVnrN0eAkNyj92Zs8Vy4Ra/s640/blogger-image--862883755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG16A2FaVl9RGCjWdmsopV5YOGhLPIUVLoId75DMUJ2VMfDlEP9L0bTOTAPrYzCwXDIL7nOD3Wgs6ocEq5UJ62KZMvkpm3eLaCddZr_HyJHQg31wq1ycjwb-CVnrN0eAkNyj92Zs8Vy4Ra/s640/blogger-image--862883755.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVjBTB2WZljbsuWN8oPrLL5bLbTFBHC4sQoBf1ldvS1Y7yDcl-vwkeRhKK627lGYbUir9X2zxijEK_ofg0Dbv7_RBxjQcRl003Ia4vR-3FUNbS5s8hzjAhEKNI1t6BsAHLX1_zU0T5aul/s640/blogger-image--1124327275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVjBTB2WZljbsuWN8oPrLL5bLbTFBHC4sQoBf1ldvS1Y7yDcl-vwkeRhKK627lGYbUir9X2zxijEK_ofg0Dbv7_RBxjQcRl003Ia4vR-3FUNbS5s8hzjAhEKNI1t6BsAHLX1_zU0T5aul/s640/blogger-image--1124327275.jpg"></a></div></div><div>Looking at the river below that was extremely swollen. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltJofepyvAR8vFFfsw7ml-PoERi8b3_7tM9_Ji7Yn7dBVYZtVx8jqcPsc5QcVyTM84nUbQKb6q4rBa6cQNRuYrZIqLLIesinuPeXRM2E0vCKLAn7Ur0VnBhLL9NjTchK6Qxmme4tJfjAJ/s640/blogger-image--1120636354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltJofepyvAR8vFFfsw7ml-PoERi8b3_7tM9_Ji7Yn7dBVYZtVx8jqcPsc5QcVyTM84nUbQKb6q4rBa6cQNRuYrZIqLLIesinuPeXRM2E0vCKLAn7Ur0VnBhLL9NjTchK6Qxmme4tJfjAJ/s640/blogger-image--1120636354.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK9PRXoWh8jzRO96PPiPa2Zf_rA7jRfoTmS-TqOpOrO7O9-V0GYzw63TEz5k2iXdD4XsElkRwxJgEv2IK-TYZnhLrKc_hWShMtQ-WWMCohzdgA79syCLhJ-3cINoxCjNvY1bdAayAgTYhS/s640/blogger-image--1693214825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK9PRXoWh8jzRO96PPiPa2Zf_rA7jRfoTmS-TqOpOrO7O9-V0GYzw63TEz5k2iXdD4XsElkRwxJgEv2IK-TYZnhLrKc_hWShMtQ-WWMCohzdgA79syCLhJ-3cINoxCjNvY1bdAayAgTYhS/s640/blogger-image--1693214825.jpg"></a></div>Mayuli and Jackson </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfO1KtHRJYMs21v4w-QHhmroDvY3lmtg8Xa5Y77fcaCeVqdNTRVq0W3xqW3-bNEDzYGDm6lz8wlmCfqoqKMxevfutGLA5Z0cSEetdgzk4lM7ubRca0R-WofsoEQ8gKXifzMH6aD8AZkrr/s640/blogger-image--560597528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfO1KtHRJYMs21v4w-QHhmroDvY3lmtg8Xa5Y77fcaCeVqdNTRVq0W3xqW3-bNEDzYGDm6lz8wlmCfqoqKMxevfutGLA5Z0cSEetdgzk4lM7ubRca0R-WofsoEQ8gKXifzMH6aD8AZkrr/s640/blogger-image--560597528.jpg"></a></div>Peeling me an orange like a pro. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdjeZ-jDfTk5ofE3JZhpwvw3-JrGAycxCHLd7Sa87moLwZ_Brlu9dCv8ecK91VwBKOZZqYqsDg69WpGz3nEC-DNsKEXIGliXBXbUtLm8qNTajsbtomrHCra-ZLMjPRYDPQflAuD5cmUeC/s640/blogger-image--1066233527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdjeZ-jDfTk5ofE3JZhpwvw3-JrGAycxCHLd7Sa87moLwZ_Brlu9dCv8ecK91VwBKOZZqYqsDg69WpGz3nEC-DNsKEXIGliXBXbUtLm8qNTajsbtomrHCra-ZLMjPRYDPQflAuD5cmUeC/s640/blogger-image--1066233527.jpg"></a></div>View out Jackson's back door of his new house! </div><div><br></div><div>Each time I go up to Vuelta Larga I appreciate living in a pueblo oh so much more, but I give Jackson a lot of credit. No electricity at all, no cell phone service and basically no way to get out. </div><div>I will admit as will other volunteers and Dominicans alike, sometimes you just have to escape to the campo!</div><div><br></div><div>That's all for now, kaley </div>lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-82139007089118118182013-12-04T06:34:00.001-08:002013-12-04T06:34:03.595-08:00#selfieSo I hear the selfie is like a thing in the developed world too, in fact I think I saw the Today Show hosts taking selfies one morning while I was in Santo Domingo, proclaiming that the term "selfie" has been added to the dictionary. <div><br></div><div>Dominicans have taken the selfie to a whole new level. We'll wait let's back up. For me, when I arrive to a new place I gravitate to the pop culture. I did a post about Dominican fashion awhile back and I think I'm due for a music post. This post however, will be dedicated to the (tackless) art of selfie taking and photo posing. </div><div>First thing a guy asks you when he's hitting on you? If you have feyboo. Also known as Facebook. Why? Because what better way to get to know someone (and not waste cell phone minutes)?!</div><div><br></div><div>So this post could get real interesting because all of the photos you are about to see are straight off my feyboo news feed. But these ppl are my friends (including my boyfriend and that of another volunteer, host sisters and coworkers) and I'm merely complimenting them on their impressive ability to take a photo of themselves. Duh. </div><div>We can start easy with a selfie of yours truly taken in true Dominican form (no smile). Why do I have this photo? I think you already know why. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBY1GtZ-OZoSH3nSpUG_qpyofZjAGvIwG5wbifOPlP6y-8WAypV7JjV8_qQpv-PGBr5mAOj7mdJLdB0I7TYovIF-NagvfZBnK_A_AzslECgwlslZ9DWDqjLhj-hUFelnGLUjgBgVE0_2KE/s640/blogger-image-1858049041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBY1GtZ-OZoSH3nSpUG_qpyofZjAGvIwG5wbifOPlP6y-8WAypV7JjV8_qQpv-PGBr5mAOj7mdJLdB0I7TYovIF-NagvfZBnK_A_AzslECgwlslZ9DWDqjLhj-hUFelnGLUjgBgVE0_2KE/s640/blogger-image-1858049041.jpg"></a></div>Yep. Putting myself on blast. </div><div>But then we have a few different kinds of selfies. Those taken with mirrors, but the catch is most Dominicans don't have mirrors in their house so this means the pics are taken at someone else's house or in a bathroom usually. Exhibits A:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwuxeSinSq-eTf48qh01vgqEMwe4G-xtsYxwXZ5CzRsB1cJLqFShoXEK4eQg1XNN5sU4_g6Nlg_tA-KzfDbxOxhbRPdRJoEBBlNyFemjG0-OVRfSKjICL-xZKQoKWpVM5cdtmp6q9mAz7/s640/blogger-image-1123913320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwuxeSinSq-eTf48qh01vgqEMwe4G-xtsYxwXZ5CzRsB1cJLqFShoXEK4eQg1XNN5sU4_g6Nlg_tA-KzfDbxOxhbRPdRJoEBBlNyFemjG0-OVRfSKjICL-xZKQoKWpVM5cdtmp6q9mAz7/s640/blogger-image-1123913320.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3V39FvdA_xEFqw6p6Vnv7KM9PdesaIVaKTj6ttSD4Fc_L95aXlsGgNuDWYuNGR1KdcZaQPgnp-JIeo8FLImDw9zDNozsyNRkG2Zea6g312xr3xTC3Itqgs8Q7x4cMDn_KxRSCOiXj-_H/s640/blogger-image-1807448810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3V39FvdA_xEFqw6p6Vnv7KM9PdesaIVaKTj6ttSD4Fc_L95aXlsGgNuDWYuNGR1KdcZaQPgnp-JIeo8FLImDw9zDNozsyNRkG2Zea6g312xr3xTC3Itqgs8Q7x4cMDn_KxRSCOiXj-_H/s640/blogger-image-1807448810.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTI_lAlF84UFslSaG3BUXIcplPp4S-IhmnQh8FcKJsjCshycJieu8ZH3xf-mxcPTeZo3Et3ltWoat14uG5mkj3FQMIlqpyQKQ8B0CFH6wf8IiGC5LPqpXRIz7af_SL9WkLFesR4KormNt/s640/blogger-image-114251619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTI_lAlF84UFslSaG3BUXIcplPp4S-IhmnQh8FcKJsjCshycJieu8ZH3xf-mxcPTeZo3Et3ltWoat14uG5mkj3FQMIlqpyQKQ8B0CFH6wf8IiGC5LPqpXRIz7af_SL9WkLFesR4KormNt/s640/blogger-image-114251619.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0ks6rE-Xz-5-86M7J8VC3zp_FUC0ZQPe7EQeimNIq6IfwEHJJ0tXvpTm3lSKqoxVslCw9jvQJg0tb2J4u04zUD_qT2T0O4zapyyeKhxbz9aljMU6kmJSr2Y0XyQ3eP61VoRCqRaNiZMN/s640/blogger-image--565011913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0ks6rE-Xz-5-86M7J8VC3zp_FUC0ZQPe7EQeimNIq6IfwEHJJ0tXvpTm3lSKqoxVslCw9jvQJg0tb2J4u04zUD_qT2T0O4zapyyeKhxbz9aljMU6kmJSr2Y0XyQ3eP61VoRCqRaNiZMN/s640/blogger-image--565011913.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnThjwAquw_RLxlJj7mrxlv98CyGGiUf-9v39DNa1LHxcZQf4fVonIPU_6d48PmGn43cBjHZam2g1PjfQAV7ycILYv1EKEQXHBxk9KZLyzh7_HZZWbX7GjRSwPwg53qD-hAqaWH7sL7r4T/s640/blogger-image--140053125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnThjwAquw_RLxlJj7mrxlv98CyGGiUf-9v39DNa1LHxcZQf4fVonIPU_6d48PmGn43cBjHZam2g1PjfQAV7ycILYv1EKEQXHBxk9KZLyzh7_HZZWbX7GjRSwPwg53qD-hAqaWH7sL7r4T/s640/blogger-image--140053125.jpg"></a></div>So there's that. Then there's the sans mirror variety:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tn9WhLLeow5kfug9zkvKehwMTj67z_v_FqXdqMdz-WNOWw3vhhQRaFklqKVhSsVypvTJsf4QhvafUxeagaUsGmmOTXVqw0dnbV5wEnFStPMI8SddyRcDpZ5kuDWdlHK0yyQvS7An6MR4/s640/blogger-image--1607270033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tn9WhLLeow5kfug9zkvKehwMTj67z_v_FqXdqMdz-WNOWw3vhhQRaFklqKVhSsVypvTJsf4QhvafUxeagaUsGmmOTXVqw0dnbV5wEnFStPMI8SddyRcDpZ5kuDWdlHK0yyQvS7An6MR4/s640/blogger-image--1607270033.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyagd8xkUzMoFzwB5_Y97rUiMaZyD471q3jfWFBCAK2z0fOSQg-n6hDP92AFnirFKJ9I8bkKlRiLrv2IaqStjoIAhB_DgksywucnELaLGt4SenWkqZpDGtMXs-p8IHqKOcrDGccU75muYK/s640/blogger-image-316399130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyagd8xkUzMoFzwB5_Y97rUiMaZyD471q3jfWFBCAK2z0fOSQg-n6hDP92AFnirFKJ9I8bkKlRiLrv2IaqStjoIAhB_DgksywucnELaLGt4SenWkqZpDGtMXs-p8IHqKOcrDGccU75muYK/s640/blogger-image-316399130.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijN_Lp9daOcDTasO39dhgka0i-HxDectKA1tLH_bSIdj-I699EWx1DaWiFCRvQTS1_NjBCILehf8H4BFMOwFilCF6Ei44c0pQ36Rt7vi3k342BFEY0gvLC8IZt9DXPfdqUKwUlYZMrwf7t/s640/blogger-image--1534617647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijN_Lp9daOcDTasO39dhgka0i-HxDectKA1tLH_bSIdj-I699EWx1DaWiFCRvQTS1_NjBCILehf8H4BFMOwFilCF6Ei44c0pQ36Rt7vi3k342BFEY0gvLC8IZt9DXPfdqUKwUlYZMrwf7t/s640/blogger-image--1534617647.jpg"></a></div>Then there are the pics that are not selfies for the sole reason that their pose will not allow them to take the selfie because their arms are not like gumby's and the whole body needs to be seen. Thus, the help of someone else is solicited. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4OSuGDCVeBIS0Y_5bczOaA8iIjEQOEV9xXvzt2f2w7q3wt3MyrdVBdpCFzJNJ3cqjk4bR4QaEywX_z7qVIh5fJ0g6Bpmuj3j5uC-NLp2d0_2Bc7DsR7mfMV5tvNNe7Ay4_dzW5y2sWsy/s640/blogger-image--1097348072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4OSuGDCVeBIS0Y_5bczOaA8iIjEQOEV9xXvzt2f2w7q3wt3MyrdVBdpCFzJNJ3cqjk4bR4QaEywX_z7qVIh5fJ0g6Bpmuj3j5uC-NLp2d0_2Bc7DsR7mfMV5tvNNe7Ay4_dzW5y2sWsy/s640/blogger-image--1097348072.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi49Zdg-KKDOhCp930BtTzTMXKD3P493tfHj2sbdOHAPHAgYU6Cr4yWI7eyYW-mjdX45OUs-0XVYd4OhyphenhyphenY15oEr8yIm75OQVGeevf4HeTCbjcuWHUpmoygJaKP-wLmBUjy5xDxtcsIJwlXo/s640/blogger-image--1276097081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi49Zdg-KKDOhCp930BtTzTMXKD3P493tfHj2sbdOHAPHAgYU6Cr4yWI7eyYW-mjdX45OUs-0XVYd4OhyphenhyphenY15oEr8yIm75OQVGeevf4HeTCbjcuWHUpmoygJaKP-wLmBUjy5xDxtcsIJwlXo/s640/blogger-image--1276097081.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNOAAgEHfw0WeQ5SV_g1U5IPDoQzIBjBT3qKTfLZINqsQlUSlsAnfagrmf0r1dlx5codX-xK1qu7j1R16traU66MJ3qEBCYP9-vrpe4XNXUS1DYzDCPZKQEoL6BsDHCH8_aaBN1ZIsHvpT/s640/blogger-image--154310850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNOAAgEHfw0WeQ5SV_g1U5IPDoQzIBjBT3qKTfLZINqsQlUSlsAnfagrmf0r1dlx5codX-xK1qu7j1R16traU66MJ3qEBCYP9-vrpe4XNXUS1DYzDCPZKQEoL6BsDHCH8_aaBN1ZIsHvpT/s640/blogger-image--154310850.jpg"></a></div>And they learn young, let me tell ya. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZtINllPbaxchsQtWBnoCjWSdSrKM6RxrVTOpQpbK06CYv-jStKUbvMF6a3QLJ-QQkODCMKUXEmEw17clQOKpsicQTE2zXMRdTvwDPylqEAeYNJ8dW2CFx4Ezd2JL6yvqWfWfcZzJojQ2C/s640/blogger-image-786140201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZtINllPbaxchsQtWBnoCjWSdSrKM6RxrVTOpQpbK06CYv-jStKUbvMF6a3QLJ-QQkODCMKUXEmEw17clQOKpsicQTE2zXMRdTvwDPylqEAeYNJ8dW2CFx4Ezd2JL6yvqWfWfcZzJojQ2C/s640/blogger-image-786140201.jpg"></a></div>Look at the left foot all popped for hip emphasis. Sheesh. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I'll end the post with this and my greatest appreciation to this culture and their love for photographing themselves. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0CohuxS179pXBdGnV0D1busOO-Fs9gbUt7RuhPGsmj1CJbF8BryLz7VUYfpQ0EYQG0Kh6wDXrUkPJDUggw_nJ2YdunK0UFJ4H2ysNt5uoUoRchkWoVytvqGSgce88w3oUPjy2egDyl9-R/s640/blogger-image-806672286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0CohuxS179pXBdGnV0D1busOO-Fs9gbUt7RuhPGsmj1CJbF8BryLz7VUYfpQ0EYQG0Kh6wDXrUkPJDUggw_nJ2YdunK0UFJ4H2ysNt5uoUoRchkWoVytvqGSgce88w3oUPjy2egDyl9-R/s640/blogger-image-806672286.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>#selfiesforlife </div><div><br></div><div>Kaley</div>lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-90589547301641752722013-11-30T15:33:00.001-08:002013-11-30T15:33:14.434-08:00Pavo BravoStuff I'm thankful for in the DR:<br />
Dembow and bachata<br />
The beach<br />
Motorcycles<br />
Mosquito nets (saving my life one centipede/dengue/tarantula bite at a time)<br />
Internet<br />
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Stuff I'm thankful for in the US:<br />
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Ehm, that's a joke right? We'd be here all night. But just for starters-</div>
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Electricity</div>
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Running water</div>
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Air conditioning</div>
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Reliable transportation </div>
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Overall life conveiences </div>
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My family. </div>
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This is stuff maybe I wouldn't have said before, but there it is. In all reality I didn't actually think about any of this until I got back to site yesterday and had to take a cold bucket bath after staying in a 5 bedroom 6 bathroom ocean view apartment in Santo Domingo for the week...but it's the thought that counts right?<br />
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I hope all of you in the US of A (see you in 2 weeks) had a fabulous thanksgiving. Here a little peak at mine in case you didn't see the pics I posted on Facebook while sucking down rum punch from my lounge chair:</div>
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Tyler and Yvette going hard in our embassy family's kitchen to make 200 brownies for our fellow volunteers. </div>
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Booze n brownies. </div>
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Living room view...</div>
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Sam making stuffin'. </div>
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Then we got to the party spot. </div>
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Getting downnnn. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQ3SDUiY9tt8vZhk3PIrJEIm4E1rIMHAB0eELpejHdpfbXKc7daZoDVJZvrw2Zv7D_spcqzy2lu129DvyainRZkYVYL9k9H8nF790FuHJYWaysluSnp45RGSQ9GyxSAV4-ZUt-MxRSo0v/s640/blogger-image-841013490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQ3SDUiY9tt8vZhk3PIrJEIm4E1rIMHAB0eELpejHdpfbXKc7daZoDVJZvrw2Zv7D_spcqzy2lu129DvyainRZkYVYL9k9H8nF790FuHJYWaysluSnp45RGSQ9GyxSAV4-ZUt-MxRSo0v/s640/blogger-image-841013490.jpg" /></a></div>
A good time was had by all. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVZkykRm5ikPQjraKsGLLUHp62lTfZSQUQLll8Ui_cQvDsIS845s4_JzI0753uue9mJ5hOSB4qZl_jRK3sLEFgyv08HyWNdX3f5gT9eFp16McEvjnl-m8e_C2zscKXM3ufYjgvdBVNcsh/s640/blogger-image-153059014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVZkykRm5ikPQjraKsGLLUHp62lTfZSQUQLll8Ui_cQvDsIS845s4_JzI0753uue9mJ5hOSB4qZl_jRK3sLEFgyv08HyWNdX3f5gT9eFp16McEvjnl-m8e_C2zscKXM3ufYjgvdBVNcsh/s640/blogger-image-153059014.jpg" /></a></div>
Annnnnnd Merry Christmas from Lauren and I :)</div>
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Paz, kaley </div>
lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-57281625448147279162013-11-26T06:55:00.000-08:002013-11-26T06:55:01.067-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This one's for all my fellow volunteers who are more than ready to go home for Christmas, who want to kill their project partners, who are frustrated with this culture, who want to go quit, who don't know if they're making a difference, who are sick of speaking Spanish 24/7, who miss their families... </div>
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I have met so many people here who have made an incredible difference in my life, who have inspired me to be a better volunteer and above all, to not give up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7k7G1Etq_onGloWzuo39UjRJ-1BKqhvbt6gkiI3MALyW3hvbtLciNXU2ipFyWkIte6rK4Bh8GpYeyt6iOIK9b4mMz7_rDSk5BMpAaTjaR1oQ430OujC4sMLgSSFnEczjdhyhPH50KsEBl/s1600/inspire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7k7G1Etq_onGloWzuo39UjRJ-1BKqhvbt6gkiI3MALyW3hvbtLciNXU2ipFyWkIte6rK4Bh8GpYeyt6iOIK9b4mMz7_rDSk5BMpAaTjaR1oQ430OujC4sMLgSSFnEczjdhyhPH50KsEBl/s640/inspire.jpg" width="444" /></a></div>
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Yeah, yeah I know it's cliche and stupid but it's true. You guys are the bomb.com.</div>
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In other news, I'm currently in an FSO officer's apartment cooking' brownies for Thanksgiving. Pics to come from our rooftop pool party!</div>
<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-60973302191495015342013-11-14T16:18:00.001-08:002013-11-14T16:18:08.774-08:00New again<p style="margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Wanna know the truth? I can't believe I'm still here. </span></p><p style="margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But that's what all this development work/Peace Corps stuff is about right? Testing your limits and learning how much bullshit one person can handle? It sure seems like it lately. </span></p><p style="margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">After almost two months without a site or job (see previous posts on being a PC gypsy) I'm 2 weeks into my new site. </span></p><p class="" style="text-align: start; margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yep. Starting over. Living with a family again (ayy yi yi) and eating lots of food that I don't want. But do not worry, I have a firm list of all of the food that I will be eating when I return to the US in a month. Ask my family. They have already received my emails. </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">ANYWAY. So you're probably wondering what I'm doing up here. And the project is actually really cool, if I can get the business up and running again...</span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I am working with a very well known Cacao (chocolate plant) Cooperative called Cooperative La Red Guaconejo. Why are they well known? Well, here in the DR (and in most places in the world) cacao farmers have been poor since anyone can remember. However it make no sense because in developed countries, chocolate is an extremely lucrative business (people here don't eat chocolate. I rest my case about Dominican food habits). Why are they poor? Because intermediaries buy their crop for basically nothing (they are country folk with very little education and are taken advantage of) and then turn around and export it for a sky high price. My organization strives to be a direct trade operation; meaning that the farmers are selling directly to the customer without an intermediary. It's still a business and they still turn profit but the object is for the farmers to see some of the money made for their organic chocolate plants. You see, organic cacao sells for up to $400 per ton more than the market price for non organic. </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtpsIDbljzPW9jNEXIt9beMy-LnU2MnI3IJeGDC7ZUFQXX_uveQSSHBn2jLmTsDjIYUt-L7XyEFAouJBejrVpKM9zrhIzUba4a5kfODcbvrM5vVdhdfri07EmO29Bx3LmSEAi3QrsNxTK/s640/blogger-image--415226493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtpsIDbljzPW9jNEXIt9beMy-LnU2MnI3IJeGDC7ZUFQXX_uveQSSHBn2jLmTsDjIYUt-L7XyEFAouJBejrVpKM9zrhIzUba4a5kfODcbvrM5vVdhdfri07EmO29Bx3LmSEAi3QrsNxTK/s640/blogger-image--415226493.jpg"></a></div>This is what ripe cacao looks like. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cPnb0XHxrAR9GEX0iZ7EHSvMQgC5kod_RdfPyvqbWULkaqb9zbwo-vPx7DtjvB-OzkdLd4mZ_DMpNRCbt0h6xSv3QnIYzjOH5I2xemDUfXxCOT9-Uz5ZTt2NyqsbV-HxvEx_VSqZnVVA/s640/blogger-image--674345004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cPnb0XHxrAR9GEX0iZ7EHSvMQgC5kod_RdfPyvqbWULkaqb9zbwo-vPx7DtjvB-OzkdLd4mZ_DMpNRCbt0h6xSv3QnIYzjOH5I2xemDUfXxCOT9-Uz5ZTt2NyqsbV-HxvEx_VSqZnVVA/s640/blogger-image--674345004.jpg"></a></div>Here you can see cacao beans on a sun dryer. That's a rice field in the background. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPn0Z09QjJKVAb-iE3b0zhaigWF1mkJleQDD5P-rf7IS-eP9njBAd_CO-lwsDNMAwhIQp4xkMQ9ps5NZ5Be5olJMKBDagl1e3u-uvXycBI9NzmGaBuDPXRJtgxx5E9xzOcalAdH-ycl6J/s640/blogger-image-812125101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPn0Z09QjJKVAb-iE3b0zhaigWF1mkJleQDD5P-rf7IS-eP9njBAd_CO-lwsDNMAwhIQp4xkMQ9ps5NZ5Be5olJMKBDagl1e3u-uvXycBI9NzmGaBuDPXRJtgxx5E9xzOcalAdH-ycl6J/s640/blogger-image-812125101.jpg"></a></div>On the tree!</div><div><br></div><div><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Who buys their product? The main customer is Taza Chocolate, located in Massachusetts. Check out their site!<a href="http://www.tazachocolate.com/">http://www.tazachocolate.com</a> </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There's also a short documentary about my project and you can see a preview here <a href="http://www.viewchange.org/videos/chocolate-country">http://www.viewchange.org/videos/chocolate-country</a></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The problem? They're damn near broke and they have quite a few delinquent accounts receivable. As a cooperative, they offer credit to their members to invest into their farms in order to produce better cacao. There debts can usually be paid in cacao but in the last two years they have had some collection issues. Part of the problem was that the members who borrows money were not properly investigated for their eligibility to borrow. The other problem is that the administration was/is a complete disaster. One member took it upon herself to make all of the decisions for the coop, most of which were terrible for the business. </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So now I'm working the development organization that helped them get started to prepare for an assembly <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://3" x-apple-data-detectors="true" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors-result="3">on November 30th.</a>In this assembly a financial summary will be presented to the members and we will hold elections. From there I can only hope we can move forward with making the business profitable again. Unlike many operations, La Red already has their niche market and customers who are waiting to snatch up their product as soon as its available. The problem is on their end, specifically in administration. The bottom line? If they can get their shit together they could be an extremely profitable and sustainable business. <i>Vamos a ver. </i></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><i style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></i></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The cooperative also has a women's group who makes organic cocoa powder and sells it. It's absolutely phenomenal in chocolate sauce and for baking. I will be working with them on the accounting and market development of their product. We need to get them registered and able to export because this is how almost all small chocolatiers make chocolate when they're first starting out, with cocoa. </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><font color="#000000"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="x-apple-data-detectors://4" x-apple-data-detectors="true" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors-result="4">Next Sunday</a> I will be headed to Santo Domingo to stay with an embassy family for the week and bake my ass off with my backing team (brownies4lyfe) for our Thanksgiving celebration. Volunteers will come from far and wide to hang out on a rooftop pool, sip some cocktails, run in the turkey trot (not this turkey) and stuff their faces with the traditional Thanksgiving food we all cherish so much. I cannot wait. </span></font></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Then just 2 1/2 short weeks after tday I AM RETURNING TO THE US OF A TO SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS. Again, super excited. Oh, and I turn 26 somewhere in there too. </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Oh also, today my friend Jackson and I went to the beach. It was rough but I really needed it. We both did. </span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8eIAzRhsnBWCptYhpdgzbwIIiooV5hLhhWcMxkbW5dEXjoHTuf5ADPvPEYVBfB0Elox47UWixQslL8xUHvLAFEPIsECF_egGYTyzuK_kWrfh-C0om04SGMkCbGenEKn-C_SOM3iVrpMEn/s640/blogger-image-2145953444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8eIAzRhsnBWCptYhpdgzbwIIiooV5hLhhWcMxkbW5dEXjoHTuf5ADPvPEYVBfB0Elox47UWixQslL8xUHvLAFEPIsECF_egGYTyzuK_kWrfh-C0om04SGMkCbGenEKn-C_SOM3iVrpMEn/s640/blogger-image-2145953444.jpg"></a></div><br></div><p class="" style="margin: 0px; clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Besos, Kaley</span></p></div>lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-47480803021276995782013-11-03T17:57:00.004-08:002013-11-03T17:57:51.862-08:00Religion in the DR<i>Que lo queeeee mi gente. </i><br />
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Well, I've moved to my new community. I now live in a pueblo called El Factor, just south of the city of Nagua on the north coast of the DR between Sosua and Samana. Extremely far from my old home in Barahona. Today is day 3 living with my new host family in my new site, so there will be a post to come on my new project(s) and life as I basically start over in Peace Corps (<i>"Carajo, diablo pero quien es esa Americana?!? </i>Yep, that's me. Round two.).<br />
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As I approach my 8 month mark here (<i>dios, </i>when and how did that happen?!) I am going to touch a subject that has caused me much confusion and frustration in this country. Religion. I have just returned from church with my new host family.<br />
Most of you could have probably guessed that the Dominican Republic is a Christian nation. There is no separation of church and state here, in fact, mixing of the two is normal and encouraged. Many typical sayings here used by everyone include god, such as <i>Vaya con dios </i>(may you go with god), <i>Dios te bendiga (</i>God bless you), <i>Si dios quire (</i>Godwilling), and of course <i>Gracias a dios (</i>Thank God) among others.<br />
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When we arrived here one of the first things we talked about in training was cultural integration, and that religion and church were going to be things we'd need to get used to. We were encouraged to go to church with our host families and participate in church activities as a way to get to know people and integrate. I was raised Catholic, so I thought, no problem. Most Peace Corps volunteers are anti-religion...and I mean, strongly against it. So I thought, meh, I can def handle it. I'm not a super religious person but being that I was raised in the Catholic church, I believe there's something up there. Or at least I did before I got here...<br />
I learned quickly that when people ask if you are Christian and you say yes, they assume you are Evangelical. I'm catholic, I said. Well then you're not Christian then, you're Catholic, I was corrected. Why the difference?<br />
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My first church experience was with my doña in Santo Domingo. She brought me to her Evangelical church, which was held in our neighborhood in someone's house. I don't know if it was the pastor writhing on the floor screaming in tongues or him calling me out as a visitor and trying to convert me, but I was NOT sold on this whole church thing.<br />
Experience number two was at the Evangelical church (located RIGHT next door) to my house in community based training. I was forced to go to a bible study where I was to read various verses and answer comprehensive reading questions. Awesome.<br />
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When I finally moved to Bombita, I made an effort to attend each church in the community to show my support and integration efforts to everyone (resilience, I tell ya without it no one would ever survive Peace Corps). They have Evangelical, Catholic, Seventh Day Adventist, Jehova's Witness, Baptist (I think..) and a witch doctor (I skipped this one, the hut looked scary). All of those churches...in a community of 1600 people? You have got to be kidding me.<br />
As most of you know, my first community is among the poorest in the DR. Very few people have jobs, there are naked babies running around everywhere and (all jokes aside) lots of starving people. I mean skinny, starving people. In the Dominican Republic, when you go into someones house for a visit it's customary to be offered something. Be it juice, food or a meal. This basically never happens in Bombita because there just isn't enough food.<br />
Wanna know what's even worse? When you're invited to stay for dinner at a house where you know there isn't enough food to feed their own children. Where you know people are starving because you have seen family members disappear to skin and bones in the few months I had lived there because someone lost their income. Clearly I have no business eating their food when I'm just fine and have my own income and food...but the family is insulted when I decline their invitation. Embarrassment for them because they know why I didn't stay. It's a lose lose situation! Ugh.<br />
Kids used to come to my house and eat the papery coating from my onions because there was no lunch for them that day, their bellies full of parasites from eating whatever they can get their hands on. They'd pick through my garbage and take the most disgusting parts of the chicken that I would never eat and cook it themselves because they were hungry. People literally starving to death or dying from completely preventable illnesses.<br />
On top of all of that, there's almost no water to cook or bathe and electricity is a joke.<br />
Anyway, the point I'm getting at is this: Church is the only thing these people have to keep them going, to give them reason to keep living and to not focus so much on living in severe poverty, and I understand that. But given the situation that I wrote about above, I'm going to ask some extremely trying questions that I can't help but pose...<br />
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Where is God in all of this? When kids are born in to families who can't feed them, clothe them or send them to school? Can't pay for them to be legally documented in this country? People dying from illnesses and hunger, which are completely avoidable?<br />
Here is hands down the worst part of all of this. The Evangelical church, for example, (which I especially have a problem with, in a second you'll read why) is the way it is because of US missionaries who have taught them to basically devote everything these people have to the church because apparently they will never amount to anything else. Rules that were brought here by them and ARE STILL IN PRACTICE TODAY include the following (from I don't know how many decades ago):<br />
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Women must cover their heads in church, women must wear skirts or dresses, women may not wear earrings or necklaces, women may not paint their nails or straighten their hair, women must sit on the other side of the church, members of the church may not dance or drink alcohol.<br />
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Notice a trend there? Almost all of those rules are for women. I'd like to know where in the bible does it say all of that? Sorry, but I'm not going to let some MAN tell me what I can and can't do.<br />
All of these rules in combination with a male dominated culture (machista, ya heard of it?) makes for an extremely unpleasant situation for women and they were brought here by AMERICANS! Women are lacking self esteem, motivation, self worth and education. The church essentially teaches women that their purpose on this earth is to procreate. But back to Education. If these people put half of the time they put into church into education, this country would advance tremendously. Exponentially.<br />
But instead as an American working here in the DR I am often mistaken for a missionary. You can imagine the frustration that this causes me as I often find myself combating the work of fellow American missionaries (and their stupid dated practices) when it comes to women's self empowement and motivation. Oh and by the way, it's often the teenage Evangelical girls who get pregnant. As you all know, contraception is a whole other animal with the church.<br />
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Sigh. On the other hand, many of my closest friends here in country are Evangelical and recognize that I am not going to convert and for many of them, poverty and church are all they know. It's a vicious cycle my friends, but I have a lot of hope for the future of this country.<br />
My new host family is Catholic, by the way. I almost feel at home at church with them...almost. And it's not that this country has made me believe less of anything. I'm just throwing my thoughts out there for whoever feels like reading them.<br />
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<i>Dios les bendiga, </i>Kaleylalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7157561704457245801.post-57390561080920823412013-10-25T05:03:00.001-07:002013-10-25T05:03:49.213-07:00Life as a Peace Corps Gypsy, Part 3That's right, still roaming around. This post will be a little more heavy on work related stuff and lighter on the beach pics...<br />
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Tuesday and Wednesday were spent at the <a href="http://worldcocoafoundation.org/" target="_blank">World Cocoa Foundation's</a> 24th annual Partnership meeting at the Occidental Embajador Hotel in Santo Domingo.<br />
Why was I at that, you ask?<br />
Because my new project is working with a cocoa cooperative. Since I know very little about the cocoa industry, my boss thought it would be helpful for me to get a crash course.<br />
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The Minister of Agriculture talking about the cocoa industry in the DR</div>
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My boss, Michael, doing his part of a panel presentation about the partnership Peace Corps has with Mondalez (Kraft foods). For more info on that, click <a href="http://ir.mondelezinternational.com/releasedetail.cfm?releaseid=758746" target="_blank">here</a></div>
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Michael answering questions on the panel.</div>
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So why is Peace Corps so involved in the cocoa industry here? In the link above it mentions that Kraft foods is funding a PC initiative in the Dominican Republic called Construye tus Sueños (Build your Dreams) which is a business plan competition for people between the ages of 15 and 29. Volunteers teach the entrepreneurship class to young people in their communities who then (if they choose) write a plan for a business that they would like to start. At the national competition winning plans are chosen to receive financing to begin the businesses. </div>
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Coincidentally, the Construye tus Sueños (CTS) national conference was Thursday through Saturday at the Magna 365 hotel in Santo Domingo. </div>
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Group photographers John Serpas and myself</div>
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Day 1 group photo</div>
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Judges panel</div>
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CTS student Francisco excited but a little nervous to present!</div>
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Happy Birthday to Sam and Francisco!</div>
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Final certifications on the last day</div>
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A presentation about entrepreneurs role in the economy.</div>
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Then, to celebrate everyones hard work and birthdays the right way, we headed over to Hooters to watch the Clemson vs Florida State game.</div>
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Sam and Kate representing their alma maters, the Seminoles and the Tigers. </div>
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There was beer and hot wings and plenty of sillyness.</div>
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A good time was had by all. Hope you're all keeping warm up there! Kaley</div>
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<br />lalocuraaahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10477440238392540083noreply@blogger.com0