Waterfalls on Easter

The fog roled in, I turned over the soil, and “Big Mama” tries to break out of her pig pen. This all happens daily in the mountain town of La Cumbre. I wake early to run and enjoy six pieces of buttered toast and home made hot chocolate from Dona Nenita and view the deep valleys and rolling ridges sloping their way from my host families block house down to the Caribbean waters 40 kilometers to the north. I know I am in paradise, it just it’s not the view nor the tremendous food that has brough me there. Certainly I’ve enjoyed spending time making good food and then eating good food with the Oubre family, and for sure we’ve traveled along that picturesque California coastline man times admiring the great Pacfic waves, but never have I found people who open their doors to guests as easily as Dominicans do. There’s not a house in La Cumbre that I can walk past and not be invited in by a Dona shouting, “Entra! Sientase!” Then I’m served a fresh cup of home grown coffee and forced to just chill. I’m not going to complain about being delayed in my Peace Corps work because I’m chilling. In fact they keep stressing that the most meaningful work I can do right now is to get to know the culture and the people. “Convivencia” they call it, or “Chilling” I call it.
This Easter Weekend was filled with walking... the most primitive of human actions. I set foot passing through farms, avoiding muddy shoes at the edge of the lagoon, bush wacking through an abandoned cocoa orchard (sure I ate some), and following a river bed upstream to a beautiful waterfall where a group of us enjoyed a wonderful picnic. Listening to the water fall from 60 feet above was a highlight. I would repeat the weekend 52 times a year if I could despite missing a little chocolate and egg hunt action and dressing up all nice for Easter Sunday.
Tomorrow I interview the kids, parents, teachers, and administrators of the local Hermanas Mirabal elementary school. Don’t know if anyone’s read “In the time of the Butterfly’s”, but part of it takes place here in the town I’m now training in, La Cumbre. So environemental technical training keeps me busy 8-12noon and 1:30-5:30pm everyday. I’m really begining to enjoy my fellow Peace Corps volunteers and entertaining Spanish classes in which you can only laugh at yourself as you state, “My leaves (“hojas”) itch,” instead of “My eyes (“ojos”) itch.” We’re all attempting to share our talents with the community most recent of which have been squash pie making, lyric writing, and telling bad stories in broken Spanish.

Walk to your next destination. Don’t be in a rush, listen, and you’re sure to enjoy it.