Hey everyone!! I know it's been a LOONG time since I got to put up a blog. I'm late for class (it's 6:08) but the professor never gets there until 6:20 or so, so I'm ok. In a few sentences I will sum up life life since we last talked.
Had a mad busy week last week. BUT, then I went with a friend from the study abroad program, met a mission group from her church at the airport, and went with them to San Pedro for the weekend! We shoveled cement, hulled rocks, had a water fight with the kids, and I got to do some translating. Oh! And I even learned some Creol bc we were in a Haitian village. And I met a guy who plays for the Ironbirds. It was a completely awesome weekend. I got to see Papito, Mercedes, and Marcia. Great, great, great. I got to use my muscles, or what was left of them after riding around in public cars for the past month or two (how long has it been??).
Hmm, then, Monday I had my intership with the crazy illiterate boys. But, after that one of them hung around and wanted to learn something! So I started a spontaneos math class with him an another boy. Started with verbal addition (that was too hard), went to flash cards with pictures (that one was too hard too), when to counting pencils and fingers (a little too hard), so I then wrote 1-10 on a piece of paper for them to trace and learn the numbers (that one was juuuust right!). So, like all in the DR, you have to have plan A-Z and patience. That's all you need! I loved worked with them, it melted my heart that they hung back, wanting to learn.
Then, I went over to another building to a place with boys off the streets too, except they live there and are there to stay. There were about 6 not in school, and just sitting around. No one gave me anything to do, so I asked them what they wanted to do. SOCCER! So, soccer it was for the next 3 hours. I had a blast!! They kept whispering to eachother, man, she knows how to play! I guess they'd never seen a white girl kick a ball before! It was awesome, loving life here.
Then Wednesday I acted out Hamlet in Spanish, that was fun!
Today was my birthday and I took myself shopping! I got some dominican clothes, so I feel like a real woman, dr style. You guys won't recognize me when I get back: nice jeans, earings, a little makeup, strappy shirt, nope, definitely I think I'll hold a sign when I get off the plane!
Love you all, got to run to class!!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Journal Entry: real personal, real important
I’m gonna type up something I wrote in class one day when we were discussing community initiatives. We were divided into groups and asked to describe different words. One group had the word “poverty.” They listed words like, “no hope, drugs, dirty, AIDS, trash…and the list went on.” What I’m about to type up is really personal, but I feel like it’s kind of important because I’m never able to let you in on what I’m feeling during a mission trip because I’m always here during them. And when I come back, I’m so muddled and confused in my own feelings and reactions that I don’t give you an accurate picture. So here’s a little insight to the world of Allyson (as of now).
“I’m in my internship class and SOOO frustrated. One girl just listed off all of her feelings about poverty-all the words she associates with poverty. One of the first was no hope. I jumped on it and said, “I have seen poverty, and there is hope. Every summer we go to a poor, poor village and the name is Hope. You have to see it, you have to experience it.” Plain and simple, she just doesn’t know anything about it. And this is one of the things that really bothers me. But I always remember that I never knew about it, and I still hardly know. I just know what I’ve seen, and that I have best friends that live in that situation, and that there is hope. But you’ve got to experience it before you can say something like that. I’m sitting here mad and frustrated. I knew Arianna (a good friend who knows about our trips to San Pedro, is the teacher of the class, but we had a guest speaker this day) heard what I said. But the worst part is when someone you super respect calls you out and speaks such truth that it strikes you. She said like 10 min later, “Allyson, do you think maybe you (I) just see hope because you see those people one week out of the year when you bring medical supplies and gifts and make them smile?” I’ve just been sitting here stewing/hopeless myself ever since. Then I remembered other things we’ve done. We don’t just bring meds. We’ve built stuff. I want to go see Esperanza so badly. I want to see the playground. I want to see them during the year and see that what we do doesn’t just last one week. Because I can’t believe that it does. If it affects me the whole year and gives me reason to live, how can it only affect the people we work with for only one week. It can’t be. I won’t settle to the views of this world and the absence of hope they have. And I’m talking hope like HOPE. Hope in God, faith in your heart. Great Love. That’s what makes the world go round. I need to remember why I’m here. {At this point, I was not paying attention to the Spanish flying around the room as I was obviously journaling in English. The guest speaker asked me a question to the effect of, “How do you know that what you do during one week is sustained through the year?” Now, if I needed a sign from God, there it was! It was like someone was giving me a chance to tell myself that what we do does matter, and does last. I replied, “Because we work with the same pastor year after year. And she works with everyone in our absence, and makes sure the things we bring and build are put to good use. And we haven’t been doing a medical clinic since the beginning. We started it after we saw a need.” He seemed satisfied with my answer, and I did too.}I’m here to learn Spanish and follow my heart and discover myself. (at that point I left, and my journal ends.)”
So, there’s insight into my feelings to date, if you’d like to comment, go for it.
“Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle. Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly…and leave the rest to God.”
“I’m in my internship class and SOOO frustrated. One girl just listed off all of her feelings about poverty-all the words she associates with poverty. One of the first was no hope. I jumped on it and said, “I have seen poverty, and there is hope. Every summer we go to a poor, poor village and the name is Hope. You have to see it, you have to experience it.” Plain and simple, she just doesn’t know anything about it. And this is one of the things that really bothers me. But I always remember that I never knew about it, and I still hardly know. I just know what I’ve seen, and that I have best friends that live in that situation, and that there is hope. But you’ve got to experience it before you can say something like that. I’m sitting here mad and frustrated. I knew Arianna (a good friend who knows about our trips to San Pedro, is the teacher of the class, but we had a guest speaker this day) heard what I said. But the worst part is when someone you super respect calls you out and speaks such truth that it strikes you. She said like 10 min later, “Allyson, do you think maybe you (I) just see hope because you see those people one week out of the year when you bring medical supplies and gifts and make them smile?” I’ve just been sitting here stewing/hopeless myself ever since. Then I remembered other things we’ve done. We don’t just bring meds. We’ve built stuff. I want to go see Esperanza so badly. I want to see the playground. I want to see them during the year and see that what we do doesn’t just last one week. Because I can’t believe that it does. If it affects me the whole year and gives me reason to live, how can it only affect the people we work with for only one week. It can’t be. I won’t settle to the views of this world and the absence of hope they have. And I’m talking hope like HOPE. Hope in God, faith in your heart. Great Love. That’s what makes the world go round. I need to remember why I’m here. {At this point, I was not paying attention to the Spanish flying around the room as I was obviously journaling in English. The guest speaker asked me a question to the effect of, “How do you know that what you do during one week is sustained through the year?” Now, if I needed a sign from God, there it was! It was like someone was giving me a chance to tell myself that what we do does matter, and does last. I replied, “Because we work with the same pastor year after year. And she works with everyone in our absence, and makes sure the things we bring and build are put to good use. And we haven’t been doing a medical clinic since the beginning. We started it after we saw a need.” He seemed satisfied with my answer, and I did too.}I’m here to learn Spanish and follow my heart and discover myself. (at that point I left, and my journal ends.)”
So, there’s insight into my feelings to date, if you’d like to comment, go for it.
“Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle. Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly…and leave the rest to God.”
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Bummed-Better
So today is a really bummy day. Many reasons, but none I feel like writing about. So, I'll be real. I'm exhausted from the weekend and that's a bad way to start the week when I don't have time to catch up on sleep. Anyway, I'm in a John Denver melancholy mood, I've got it going on my ipod. Yesterday was a blast Dixie Chicks really loud day and sing at the top of my lungs in the shower.
So, qué pasa? This morning I had to go buy a new cellphone because mine broke again. Second time, it just stops working. And then I have to go to Orange and wait in a line like one you find at the DMV. This is the second time, and they should just give me a new phone. But, because this makes sense-I have to wait until it happens three times until they'll give me a new phone. GREAT. I'm not waiting, so I went and bought a whole new phone. Whatever. The lady almost didn't sell it to me bc she knew I wasn't going to use the new number.
What else, this weekend I went dancing Friday night, it was ok. I learned how to dance Salsa in Mexico last summer, and it's really fun. But here, I've heard that when a Salsa song comes on, all the Dominicans clear off the floor because they think it's so hard. I asked a guy that came with our friends if he knew how to dance Salsa, he said yes. He did NOT. We looked like a couple of idiots out on the floor. Then I tried dancing it with this other guy. He might as well have been dancing a totally different dance, not the Salsa I know. So, by the end of the dance he asked me if I learned Salsa in Nicaragua. I replied, no, in Mexico. Then he understood. You know a guy has decided that you don't know how to dance (the steps) when he decides to spin you for the whole song. Which, I prefer and it's more fun anyway, so woohoo!
Then Saturday I finished up homework and spent the day at Orange trying to get them to give me a new phone, which as you know, they did not. Saturday night I went to San Pedro and stayed till late Sunday. It was fun. This weekend is whale watching and next I'm hoping to go to S.P. again and see all the old friends, I still haven't gotten to do that!!
So onto better times. Last night I was really bummed and needed to make a call. I walked to a call center where you pay by the minute. It was closed! You can only laugh at the DR when you're that down and it makes you downer. But, the security guard befriended me. He went and bought me juice and a phone card and gave me his cell phone to use. He was so nice, and cheered me up. He's in his forties or fifties, so don't worry he wasn't some young dude hitting on me. He has the outlook of Papito, happy-go-lucky and just wanted to help and make a friend. So, I consider him my first real Dominican friend. Thanks!
So, at my internship I go every Monday and Friday morning for two hours and it takes an hour to get there. I've been waiting for them to tell me what to do, or give me direction. But, no. So, yesterday I showed my americanness that I've been suppressing and I took over. I asked for my group of boys to stay after class before they could go get their snacks. I sat them down and asked for silence (which is relative in this country, and something you never experience. They were quietER, which is all I can ask for). I told them I came here to teach them, my age, what I study and have studied, and that I WANT to be here. I asked them if they wanted to learn how to read and write. Some said yes very enthusiastically, which was encouraging. Then I just kept talking about respect and how I wanted to be their friend, but I was also going to be their teacher. yaydada, I babbled in an unprepared speech in Spanish. At least I'm not shy or scared, well I wouldn't be doing anything that I'm doing if I was. So, basically, things are going to be different from now on there, and I'm taking control. And I asked for another classroom to teach them in bc at this point we've got two groups of really rowdy boys in one room. That doesn't work.
How is it that my first real teaching experience is in Spanish, and teaching illiterate boys how to read when I don't know the first thing about that? I guess I like challenges? Nothing I do is ever easy. And I'm here for a reason, there's always a reason. To look at the big picture, this something so huge. And bigger than me. Teaching someone how to read? Even if I only get one boy to read, or none, and just lay the foundation, even that is something that they don't have. These boys can't even write their names or the date. Celia Whitler sings a song called "Great Love." It goes, "We can do no great thing alone, we can only do small things with great love. The truth is all of us are helpless, without heaven above, giving us the strength to do small things, with great love." So, bring on those crazy boys, and I pray for strength and wisdom in how to reach them.
I cannot thank all of you enough for your e-mails and calls. And memories that we share, because you can bet I have a lot of time to think on my public car rides. And although I'm enjoying myself here, many thoughts fly home to you: all the people I love and miss.
So, qué pasa? This morning I had to go buy a new cellphone because mine broke again. Second time, it just stops working. And then I have to go to Orange and wait in a line like one you find at the DMV. This is the second time, and they should just give me a new phone. But, because this makes sense-I have to wait until it happens three times until they'll give me a new phone. GREAT. I'm not waiting, so I went and bought a whole new phone. Whatever. The lady almost didn't sell it to me bc she knew I wasn't going to use the new number.
What else, this weekend I went dancing Friday night, it was ok. I learned how to dance Salsa in Mexico last summer, and it's really fun. But here, I've heard that when a Salsa song comes on, all the Dominicans clear off the floor because they think it's so hard. I asked a guy that came with our friends if he knew how to dance Salsa, he said yes. He did NOT. We looked like a couple of idiots out on the floor. Then I tried dancing it with this other guy. He might as well have been dancing a totally different dance, not the Salsa I know. So, by the end of the dance he asked me if I learned Salsa in Nicaragua. I replied, no, in Mexico. Then he understood. You know a guy has decided that you don't know how to dance (the steps) when he decides to spin you for the whole song. Which, I prefer and it's more fun anyway, so woohoo!
Then Saturday I finished up homework and spent the day at Orange trying to get them to give me a new phone, which as you know, they did not. Saturday night I went to San Pedro and stayed till late Sunday. It was fun. This weekend is whale watching and next I'm hoping to go to S.P. again and see all the old friends, I still haven't gotten to do that!!
So onto better times. Last night I was really bummed and needed to make a call. I walked to a call center where you pay by the minute. It was closed! You can only laugh at the DR when you're that down and it makes you downer. But, the security guard befriended me. He went and bought me juice and a phone card and gave me his cell phone to use. He was so nice, and cheered me up. He's in his forties or fifties, so don't worry he wasn't some young dude hitting on me. He has the outlook of Papito, happy-go-lucky and just wanted to help and make a friend. So, I consider him my first real Dominican friend. Thanks!
So, at my internship I go every Monday and Friday morning for two hours and it takes an hour to get there. I've been waiting for them to tell me what to do, or give me direction. But, no. So, yesterday I showed my americanness that I've been suppressing and I took over. I asked for my group of boys to stay after class before they could go get their snacks. I sat them down and asked for silence (which is relative in this country, and something you never experience. They were quietER, which is all I can ask for). I told them I came here to teach them, my age, what I study and have studied, and that I WANT to be here. I asked them if they wanted to learn how to read and write. Some said yes very enthusiastically, which was encouraging. Then I just kept talking about respect and how I wanted to be their friend, but I was also going to be their teacher. yaydada, I babbled in an unprepared speech in Spanish. At least I'm not shy or scared, well I wouldn't be doing anything that I'm doing if I was. So, basically, things are going to be different from now on there, and I'm taking control. And I asked for another classroom to teach them in bc at this point we've got two groups of really rowdy boys in one room. That doesn't work.
How is it that my first real teaching experience is in Spanish, and teaching illiterate boys how to read when I don't know the first thing about that? I guess I like challenges? Nothing I do is ever easy. And I'm here for a reason, there's always a reason. To look at the big picture, this something so huge. And bigger than me. Teaching someone how to read? Even if I only get one boy to read, or none, and just lay the foundation, even that is something that they don't have. These boys can't even write their names or the date. Celia Whitler sings a song called "Great Love." It goes, "We can do no great thing alone, we can only do small things with great love. The truth is all of us are helpless, without heaven above, giving us the strength to do small things, with great love." So, bring on those crazy boys, and I pray for strength and wisdom in how to reach them.
I cannot thank all of you enough for your e-mails and calls. And memories that we share, because you can bet I have a lot of time to think on my public car rides. And although I'm enjoying myself here, many thoughts fly home to you: all the people I love and miss.
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