February 8th!!!

Ok, today and yesterday were SO much better. I posted my last blog yesterday but I wrote it Tuesday. Don’t worry, yes I do get down, but it doesn’t last for long.

My ride to school has greatly improved, as the sewage leak that covered the entire street every morning was fixed and no longer sprays me in the face! I got to make my own breakfast this morning, which I always enjoy. Oh, I forgot to write about this one (it has relevance to breakfast)!! Ok, one night I was getting ready to go to bed and was looking for something to eat. I checked the oven (which does not have a thermostat that I can find and seems to remain perpetually at 150 F) where my host mother keeps foods warm. I saw a pot of white stuff and dipped my finger in to try it, thinking it was dessert or something like a weird DR cake. Then, I thought better of it, remembering I was in the DR. I looked at my finger, which had hit liquid, and smelled it. It smelled like rotting milk. IN THE OVEN. I washed my hands and thought nothing more of it, found another snack and went to bed. Unbeknownst to me, I would be seeing it again soon. I woke up late, no one was home, and I saw a note on the kitchen table that said…
“Good morning Alison (no one can spell my name in the States, why would they be able to do it here?). Your breakfast is in a pitcher in the fridge, I made you yogurt. Have a good day. –Mabel”
Ok, so my brain starts churning…she MADE yogurt??? How? Cooking milk in the 150 degree oven all night? I took it out of the fridge and stared at it for a long time. I smelled it, and contemplated the repercussions that could occur in my stomach if I did indeed decide to ingest the “homemade” yogurt. But the problem was, if I didn’t eat it, she would know. And if I did, what would happen? Should I just pour some in the trash can? …. So, I tasted it, like a cat that laps at milk hesitantly. And, it wasn’t that bad! Now, I actually love it! Haha, so Mom and Dad-the “you have to try EVERYTHING” rakerness that has been engrained in me since childhood spoke up. And yes, sometimes you turn out to like what repulses you.
SO, back to my breakfast! I ate the last of the yogurt. And the phone ran, I answered, “Good morning.” And the person on the other side said, “Hey Allyson!” I was so confused (this was in Spanish). It was my other host brother who lives in Canada! So obviously he knew I wasn’t one of his family members. It was neat to finally talk to him.
After my strange phone encounter, I left the house and locked the NINE locks on the way outside, and walked to my little spot where I catch the public car, caught it, and now I’m here at school writing to all of you!

Random Little Stories:
-I usually ignore what the men say to me, but on this occasion I just had to burst out laughing: A man said loudly to his friends as I walked by, “Es un amor fatal.” Which means, “She is a fatal love.” Just the way people say what they do cracks me up.
-We fit NINE people in a public car one night. Not a bus, not even a little bus. A car. Yes some where kids, but still, can you imagine??
-I was watching TV with my host family and I think the movie was “As Good as it Gets.” They were walking along a beach and I said that I go to a beach like that every summer with my family. They were asking about it, and I intended to say, “The sand is beautiful even though the water looks grey/dirty.” Well, in Spanish sand=arena and oatmeal=avena. (You can imagine what happened.) I said our beaches have beautiful oatmeal!!! My host mom just stared at me. Then I started laughing hysterically.
-On the way to my internship one day I caught a public car to a place where I could then catch a bus. The bus I needed was roaring by and I flagged it down. I proceeded to run to it before it pulled away. Then I stopped when I saw why it was roaring by, not picking up passengers: it was packed to the brim and people were hanging out the door. I said, heck! And jumped on and shoved in. I wasn’t one of the hangers though, for all the worried adults. And after a little while one guy my age said to me (in English), “I see you’ve gotten used to the Dominican transportation, you just jumped on and made your own space!” Yup, what else was I supposed to do? When in Rome do as the Romans do!

So yesterday my acting class started! It’s two hours a week on Wednesday mornings, no credit, just fun. It’s really small, and seems like it’s going to be awesome. So, first day, he teaches us how to breathe from our bellies. And he made us each lie down on a table individually and breathe with a book on our stomach to make sure we were breathing from below and not up top in the lungs. THEN we had to all individually stand up and say, “Arrrr, Errrr, Irrrrr, Orrrrr, Urrrr, Rrrrrr,” using our newly learned breathing techniques. I’ve already made a friend because I was just laughing hysterically with/at her when she went first. I actually had to turn around and face the wall so that she could do it without laughing. Then, wouldn’t you know, I had to go second. You have to try an imagine this. Stand up, force yourself to breathe from your belly, like now you’re pregnant, now you’re not. It’s hard. Then go through the vowels with rolling rrrrs after them, very loudly and make it last your entire exhale. Don’t think about the class staring at you, and don’t burst out laughing! (which of course, you know I did.) Anyway, I tried really hard, but even some of my Dominican classmates had trouble. It’s gonna be a fun class! But I’ve got to memorize a page long monologue of my choice (in Spanish) by next Wednesday. Hmm, I better start that one pronto!!


So, I went through a little down time, and now I’m back to being me!! Just plain old me. I love it. I’m working on a poem, an ode to DR toilets. Check for updates on that one.