July 22, 2002 "Peligro Saurus (Your PCDR Update)"

You'd think after five months here I'd start running out of things to say, but I just can't seem to get tired of talking about myself. Anyway, I'm getting used to living with an audience 24 hours a day. I'm going to miss having a travelling entourage of Dominican kids when I go back to the States.

A lot of people have been asking me about my work here, and I get the feeling that some of you are beginning to suspect that I don't really do a whole lot around here. Well, you're right. I don't, at least not yet. But nothing will make you appreciate having e-mail access like spending your afternoon swabbing out the inside of a dirty generator tank with a straw broom just so you can get the power going. Which I just did yesterday.

So, the purpose of the community center, in theory, is to serve as a resource for community development in Restauracion and the surrounding area. On a typical day, I might help the people who work with the Reforestacion Project make a spreadsheet they can use to inventory how many trees they're planting, or show a teacher from the high school how to use the Internet to research a class project, or help someone make a resume, or apply for funding for a building project. Last week I rode around the campo with a Dominican development worker who wants to start building cheap housing for families in need and took digital pictures of the houses that most needed rebuilding, and we're going to use them to put together a proposal to the Dominican Government and some NGOs like WorldVision. I'm also about to start working on a solar power project with another volunteer in Guayajayuco. But my biggest job will be to organize classes where I can teach people to use the computers and equipment here so the center can keep running after I'm gone. The Cinnamon Cowboy is supposed to be helping me with this, at least with the organization, but he's sort of like the Dominican Bigfoot. There's an occasional sighting from a distance, but little proof of his actual existence. For now I'm just keeping myself busy making posters that explain in Spanish how a mouse works, or how to turn on the computers. Baby steps. I could talk about all the meetings I've tried to organize at the center myself that have fallen apart or just not happened, but I know none of you are really interested in any of that. You just want to hear funny stories about my latrine. And I'm always happy to oblige.

Turns out I was wrong about having the whole two-seater to myself. Dominicans have no concept of personal space or private property. If someone needs to go to the bathroom, and their own latrine is occupied, or just further away from them than mine, they're going to use mine. I think I understand now why Do?a Maura used to padlock the one in Juan de Hererra at night, although that makes her pretty selfish by Dominican campo standards. More than once I've opened the door to my privy first thing in the morning and found one of my neighbors already inside with his pants down. Usually they'll just put their hand out and invite me to come on in and pull up seat number two. What can I do? I'm a guest in their country and this is the way they do things here. They were all using that latrine long before I showed up. But I always wait outside politely until they finish. And I keep my TP inside the house. They can buy their own.

Somehow I've ended up with a kitten. This wasn't something I planned, or wanted, but she's made herself at home inside the boxspring of my mattress and she's not leaving. This is what happens when you leave your doors open all the time. I don't really like cats. I'm allergic to them. But I have to admit that sometimes it's nice to have another living thing in the house at night. And she kills mice. She used to be afraid to get too close to people. Most of the smarter animals in this country are, and with good reason. But we're beginning to get used to each other. I feed her powdered milk and boiled eggs, plus all the vermin she can catch in my living room. One of the kids has named her "Escubi.

Avocado season has started, which is nice, but so has tarantula season. Roaches and lizards in my house don't really bother me. Mice I can deal with. Even scorpions aren't so bad. But tarantulas scare the living shit out of me. They're big, they're furry, and they jump. I had no idea those things could move like that. They walk so slow on the Discovery Channel. If you go after a tarantula with a broom, you've got a fight on your hands. And just when you think you've finally killed it, it gets up and starts walking again like something from a horror movie. If you break one of its legs off, the leg will keep moving on its own for another hour or so. And somehow Escubi always manages never to be around when one shows up.

I have a neighbor, Diogenes, who really likes to go camping and hiking, which makes him sort of a freak in the Dominican Republic. He's also a hard core Christian, but at least he talks about topics other than how many girlfriends he has and how much he drank last night, which, again, makes him sort of a freak here. On Saturday he took me, Chrisie, Josh, and a few other Restauracionians on a little hike to the top of a mountain about 4 miles outside of town. We did about 13 miles in all, half of it bushwhacking straight uphill. I'm an American. I'm used to hiking neatly maintained trails in designated national parks with like-minded nature lovers. Dominicans "appreciate nature" by hacking down trees with machetes to get a few pieces of fruit, throwing rocks at any animals or birds unfortunate enough to be in their path, and screaming, whistling and howling at the top of their lungs when they reach a summit. The hike was pretty brutal, but we ended it by swimming in an ice-cold lagoon fed by a waterfall and eating mangoes.

But how are the Haitians, you want to know? Well, I was at the market in Dajabon today (I bought a sack of voodoo candles for when the power goes out)and the Dominican army spent the entire morning chasing random Haitians around and beating them with bamboo poles. Here's how the market works: various relief organizations and corporations donate goods like clothing and housewares to poor Haitian communities. The Haitians don't really need clothing and housewares, so they need to sell these goods so they can buy what they do need, i.e., FOOD. No one in Haiti can afford to buy anything, so they bring these goods over the border to sell them to the slightly more wealthy Dominicans really cheap. Now someone in the Dominican government has decided that these Haitians are taking jobs and food away from the Dominicans who live near the border and they must be stopped. With bamboo poles. If the market closes down, it will mean that a whole lot of Haitians will basically be screwed. But at least they'll be well-dressed.

I'm getting my mail delivered directly to the post office in Restauracion now, so please hagame un favor and send any mail to this address:

Daniel Hotstream
#12 Soltero Blanco
Restauracion
Provincia Dajabon
Republica Dominicana

Be sure to write "Daniel" or they won't know who it's for. I've already gotten seven entries for the mix tape contest and I'm hoping to pick up a lot more when I go to the capital on the 26th, but so far we've got some really good stuff. Winners will be announced... eventually. Be patient, we're on Dominican time here.