Colonialism and Beans
Last week, I went back to my old Peace Corps village in the Dominican Republic.
I hadn't been there since September of 2001, when I went with my father to visit my former adoptive Dominican family. My father and I had spent a few days having fun, and then several more trying to get back to the U.S.A. after September 11. Needless to say, it was a stressful trip.
This time I traveled alone. I spent two days in the capital city and four in my old village of Castillo, which means "Castle" in Spanish. I have never seen any castle there, however.
The Dominican Republic is an interesting place. It's a small country with a very diverse population. It's possible to see a person who looks like he's straight from West Africa shining shoes or a blond-haired, blue-eyed business woman. They're all Dominicans. The mixture of the Spanish settlers with the African slaves they brought over, as well as the native people whom they exploited when they "discovered" the island, makes for a very heterogeneous gene pool. Every once in a while, a wild card shows up. Two very dark-skinned farmers in the countryside have a blond baby. It's fascinating. What is bothersome about this curious natural phenomenon, is that this differing of Dominican skin color is often used to divide classes, much as it is all over the world.
Cousins
It is also a very Catholic country, although, I've met some Evangelicals and even saw a Mormon church in Santo Domingo.
At the Local Catholic Church
In the capital city, Santo Domingo, I stayed in the Pension, a hostel for foreigners, where I used to stay as Peace Corps volunteer. I decided to take one step up from my days as a Peace Corps volunteer and got a private room with its own attached bathroom. There was, however, no air conditioning, and the lows at night hovered in the high 80s.
Pension
Most of the Americans who visit the Dominican Republic on vacation stay in places like the Hotel Melia on the malecon, or waterfront. It's no wonder that the Dominicans I meet don't understand that not all Americans are filthy rich.
Hotel Melia
I spent some time taking photos of the sites I had seen several times before.
Mr. Genocide, Himself (Columbus)
His House
Duarte, Sanchez, & Mella - The Founders of the Country
Spanish-Style buildings
And I found something that made me very happy. Recently, I wrote a blog entry about how hard it is to find jeans to fit my big bootay. Found some! Check out the curves on these babies! (Incidentally, I didn't buy them. It was just too hot to fathom trying to get my sweaty self into those tight jeans.)
Bootaaaay Jeans
In Castillo, I stayed with my adoptive Dominican mother, Reyna. Back in 1997, she took me in when she noticed my clothes were never quite clean (washing jeans by hand is difficult), and I was losing weight rapidly (I can't cook).
Reyna Cooking
It was strange being there again because although everything was much different after four years, it felt like I had never left. It was exactly the same and totally different all at once. The Dominican Republic will always be like a home to me. After spending over two years struggling to accustom myself to such a different culture, place, and climate, I know I won't ever be a wholehearted gringa ever again. The culture, both the good and bad, have been incorporated into the way I view the world around me. I can just turn that part of my heart and mind back on when I arrive, and it feels as though I never left.
The weirdest thing was that even though it felt as if I had never left, all of the tiny muchachos I used to school in my house were now great big grown-ups. Some even have children of their own.
And Reyna's son, my ex-boyfriend, Javier, has a wife and a two-year-old daughter, Layna. He named her after me... my middle name is Lynn.
Layna
The best part is, he's a great father.
Layna With Her Daddy
We took a trip to the beach in a nearby town one day. I don't go in the water ever since that time I almost drown in 1997. Javier pulled me out just in time. I still visit the beach, though, because the ocean is so lovely to look at, listen to, and smell.
Beach In Nagua
It was an incredible week. I ate rice and beans. I chatted with neighbors about he evils of government and the price of chickens.
Chickens
And one of my favorites... I took bucket baths by lamplight. There is no running water, so water is stored in large, ten gallon buckets. There is electicity, but it goes off around 4:00pm and doesn't return until morning, so all evening activities are done in the dark. On the upside, this makes for excellent viewing of the stars. When an entire island goes dark in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, it feels like you can see the end of the universe.
Also, with no electricity, something incredible happens. With no television to distract them, people talk to one another, while children play made up games outside in the sun. There is no Play Station, no Saturday afternoon movies on HBO. Just the yellow leaves fluttering down from the old amapola tree. The one who catches the most leaves wins!
It's such an amazing feeling to be able to fit in to a world so different from the one in which I usually live. To be comfortable chatting in Spanish with the tour guides in the capital about the tourists they're leading around, as if I weren't a foreigner, myself. To be loved and accepted by my neighbors as an honorary Dominican, granted a slightly strange one. It is such an honor to be included by such wonderful people.
Neighbor Children Dancing
To see more photos, click on the following links.
Santo Domingo and Castillo
I hadn't been there since September of 2001, when I went with my father to visit my former adoptive Dominican family. My father and I had spent a few days having fun, and then several more trying to get back to the U.S.A. after September 11. Needless to say, it was a stressful trip.
This time I traveled alone. I spent two days in the capital city and four in my old village of Castillo, which means "Castle" in Spanish. I have never seen any castle there, however.
The Dominican Republic is an interesting place. It's a small country with a very diverse population. It's possible to see a person who looks like he's straight from West Africa shining shoes or a blond-haired, blue-eyed business woman. They're all Dominicans. The mixture of the Spanish settlers with the African slaves they brought over, as well as the native people whom they exploited when they "discovered" the island, makes for a very heterogeneous gene pool. Every once in a while, a wild card shows up. Two very dark-skinned farmers in the countryside have a blond baby. It's fascinating. What is bothersome about this curious natural phenomenon, is that this differing of Dominican skin color is often used to divide classes, much as it is all over the world.
Cousins
It is also a very Catholic country, although, I've met some Evangelicals and even saw a Mormon church in Santo Domingo.
At the Local Catholic Church
In the capital city, Santo Domingo, I stayed in the Pension, a hostel for foreigners, where I used to stay as Peace Corps volunteer. I decided to take one step up from my days as a Peace Corps volunteer and got a private room with its own attached bathroom. There was, however, no air conditioning, and the lows at night hovered in the high 80s.
Pension
Most of the Americans who visit the Dominican Republic on vacation stay in places like the Hotel Melia on the malecon, or waterfront. It's no wonder that the Dominicans I meet don't understand that not all Americans are filthy rich.
Hotel Melia
I spent some time taking photos of the sites I had seen several times before.
Mr. Genocide, Himself (Columbus)
His House
Duarte, Sanchez, & Mella - The Founders of the Country
Spanish-Style buildings
And I found something that made me very happy. Recently, I wrote a blog entry about how hard it is to find jeans to fit my big bootay. Found some! Check out the curves on these babies! (Incidentally, I didn't buy them. It was just too hot to fathom trying to get my sweaty self into those tight jeans.)
Bootaaaay Jeans
In Castillo, I stayed with my adoptive Dominican mother, Reyna. Back in 1997, she took me in when she noticed my clothes were never quite clean (washing jeans by hand is difficult), and I was losing weight rapidly (I can't cook).
Reyna Cooking
It was strange being there again because although everything was much different after four years, it felt like I had never left. It was exactly the same and totally different all at once. The Dominican Republic will always be like a home to me. After spending over two years struggling to accustom myself to such a different culture, place, and climate, I know I won't ever be a wholehearted gringa ever again. The culture, both the good and bad, have been incorporated into the way I view the world around me. I can just turn that part of my heart and mind back on when I arrive, and it feels as though I never left.
The weirdest thing was that even though it felt as if I had never left, all of the tiny muchachos I used to school in my house were now great big grown-ups. Some even have children of their own.
And Reyna's son, my ex-boyfriend, Javier, has a wife and a two-year-old daughter, Layna. He named her after me... my middle name is Lynn.
Layna
The best part is, he's a great father.
Layna With Her Daddy
We took a trip to the beach in a nearby town one day. I don't go in the water ever since that time I almost drown in 1997. Javier pulled me out just in time. I still visit the beach, though, because the ocean is so lovely to look at, listen to, and smell.
Beach In Nagua
It was an incredible week. I ate rice and beans. I chatted with neighbors about he evils of government and the price of chickens.
Chickens
And one of my favorites... I took bucket baths by lamplight. There is no running water, so water is stored in large, ten gallon buckets. There is electicity, but it goes off around 4:00pm and doesn't return until morning, so all evening activities are done in the dark. On the upside, this makes for excellent viewing of the stars. When an entire island goes dark in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, it feels like you can see the end of the universe.
Also, with no electricity, something incredible happens. With no television to distract them, people talk to one another, while children play made up games outside in the sun. There is no Play Station, no Saturday afternoon movies on HBO. Just the yellow leaves fluttering down from the old amapola tree. The one who catches the most leaves wins!
It's such an amazing feeling to be able to fit in to a world so different from the one in which I usually live. To be comfortable chatting in Spanish with the tour guides in the capital about the tourists they're leading around, as if I weren't a foreigner, myself. To be loved and accepted by my neighbors as an honorary Dominican, granted a slightly strange one. It is such an honor to be included by such wonderful people.
Neighbor Children Dancing
To see more photos, click on the following links.
Santo Domingo and Castillo
posted by Bert at 10:06 PM
1 Comments:
I can't imagine not having running water or electricity. However, it would be refreshing to not have anything better to do than talk. (I say this as we watch "The Simpsons") Sounds like you had quite a good visit. H told me about some of the challenges you had there initially - I'll have to read your Mosquito Net files. :-)
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