The seeds are planted

The seeds are planted. February is coming to a close. All eyes are on the Spring that is soon to blossom into brilliance. And Jared is blessing God for gorgeous winter weather that feels much like late spring in California. I live here in a country that has filled me up with so much pleasant weather and good food. Those are two constants I think I could live with in life. Other such things as building solid relationships with others, environmental activism, being in good shape, understanding technology, etc. are all variables that we must work to understand and sustain. Living in a developing nation provides certain intangibles that can make life more difficult or easier depending on your perspective.

Here are a few examples of those intangibles:

- It can take me upwards of a day and a half to wash and dry my clothes, however, that day and a half can be rather relaxed as I will only dip my hands in and out of water, enjoy work outside in the fresh air, and best of all see street traffic as neighbors stop by and chat for a moment.

-I’m on foot or on my bicycle to arrive at any destination within 20 minutes of my home. I may have to give myself more time to get where I’m going, but it’s great exercise and you see the people in your community face to face. You can’t ignore them if you pass by walking. Also you tend to look for a ride more often from others if you need to carry something heavy or large. Those with means of automated transport do favors for those without and thus not every Dominican has need for a car…(nor would I wish to see all of them driving with the already current state of street chaos). By choosing to walk you’re making a conscious decision to throw less carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, the streets traffic flow actually flows, and are more pedestrian friendly (if you look oncoming drivers in the eye before crossing the street = mutual agreement that you may not be slowing down, but at least you’re not going to hit me).

-I eat food that is sold in town, fresh, local, and simple. Seafood isn’t found in the mountains, nor might I find specialty Ghirardelli chocolate at the local colmado (corner market), but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what is on the plate. Rice, beans, and chicken and salad are not a bad diet unless you think it is. They say 3 billion people around the world depend on rice as a dietary staple. What’s to keep that from being 7 billion people? Proteins, carbohydrates, fats all come in different forms yet they get broken down into the same simple nutrients that run our body. When I leave this country I will miss eating rice every day, or maybe it will just become an adapted habit. At least I know it is cheap, fills my bottomless stomach up, can be eaten with almost any food, and is not hard to cook.

-Yeah it rains here a lot more than most places in the states. And yes rain can get you wet. But who is to say you don’t just stop what you are doing, take some cover, and enjoy a cup of coffee at a strangers house instead of trying to continue rushing through the day with bad weather.

As you can see this lifestyle is growing on me. The Dominican Republic is on the verge of becoming a developed nation. Great external influences from “Nueva Yol” and Europe have influenced its economy greatly, the greatest of which are remittances and tourism. I don’t know what life is better. All I know is that if Good Weather and Good Food are a constant in my life then I can work to excel in the rest.

Think about what you try and manipulate and then see if you can live without manipulating it!

Peace,
Jared

A Good Start to a Good Year

The New Year is here! The New Decade is here! We think about resolutions, we think about change. We think about sacrifices that need to be made so that we can make this would a better place. Yeah sounds like an optimistic Peace Corps Volunteer talking. I just finished two weeks of invigorating work with some medical students from the University of Southern Maine. I was translating Spanish to English and English to Spanish for the humble farming families in the rural mountain region of Puerto Plata. It was like being back in college, but only moved from the Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts to the isolated villages on a Caribbean island where cars don’t easily travel. Churches and small two room school houses were turned into general health clinics. Pews and extra small desks became the seats for 90 year old great-great grand mothers, pregnant teenagers and dedicated tobacco farmers. Their stories each unique, health issues fairly common, and smiles certainly penetrating.

I remember the 50 year old cock fighter, Pedro Martinez, from Arroyo Ancho. He walked into the clinic with a golden tooth smile after having finished cultivating acres of land, picking the soil so that he could plant corn and plantains when the rain came again. As Kaley and John, the Southern Maine medical students, checked his heart, lungs, and general health we discovered he was a strong man with few needs… until he told his story. Ten years ago he was riding back of a pick up truck when it hit a deep rut on an eroded road and flipped on its side throwing him off the back and the truck landing on his left leg. He had worked though pain for the last decade, though from the content expressions of his shinning smile and great laugh you would have never thought any such incident had occurred. This is how many of the many rural campo patients were. They came looking for help; we had a few pain killers, some special exercises or posture advice, but really I think we were there to share a cultural experience and some smiles that could themselves probably cure all ills.

This same medical mission returns every six months to these rural communities to check in on these patients. They are a demographic that does not receive many funds from the federal government, even though their needs for a basic health clinic would not be of great cost. One community we arrived at after two hours on foot because not even the 4x4 trucks could traverse the mud and steep slopes. That was a day to remember. The mayor of the community even hiked us out of the site 2 hours in his dress shoes and nice slacks, only to turn around and head back home 2 hours.

So not only did I enjoy the individual histories of these sturdy Dominicans, but the fellow Americans from Maine were pretty awesome people themselves. Their open hearts and desire to put together this trip on funds they raised themselves while studying and working made for a special exchange. I’m back in my site refreshed with hope for this new year, for this new decade.

Find time to volunteer within your job or your studies. Everyone benefits as a result.

Peace,
Jared

What is Comfortable?

Who would like to face off again in a game of middle school b-ball? I want to remain young through my 40s so I can always think about these situations and then actually live them out. What a joy to be part of the world of imagination. I feel privileged and free to dream of such opportunities. The world really is an amazing place to discover through your own thoughts. It is me imagining a world where there is no electricity that got me here to rural Dominican Republic. However, living with those who are impoverished sometimes makes me feel a little guilty for having lived so many years of my life in a relatively wealthy atmosphere, or as my grandfather exclaims `` Living high on the hog!`` One day I´m bathing on a concrete floor with a chilly bucket of rain water, while the next day I find myself at a resort under a pressurized shower head with hot water massaging my back. What makes one situation better than the other… well I guess it´s all perspective. Comfort can sometimes be what you are most used to. Have I become accustomed to cold showers enough to where I think they are comfortable because they simply clean my dirty body? My recent trip to a resort (also know as Peace Corps evacuation plan upon news of Hurricane Tomas´ potential arrival to the island) had me exposed to the wonders of hot water again. And I`m not sure if I necessarily needed that hot water to put me happy. For just the fact that I could clean myself in a private bathroom with running water was enough to exclaim ``Luxury!`` My lifestyle has certainly been of relaxation in terms of what it means to work for what you get. I mean my host family feeds me hot meals twice a day, I nap usually for 1 hour after lunch, and when the yawn appears a more often I tend to take an extended rest.

Then I think about a weekend like this past one, a three day conference at a center called ``Vacation La Romana.`` We played baseball, basketball, volleyball, frisbee, tag in the pool, ate pork chops, and danced, all the while colaborating with young Dominicans about the importance of protecting our environment. They say it was my job to attend the conference with my two brilliant host sisters, Lisanna and Lizbet, but I say it was yet another weekend vacation. Peace Corps here in the Dominican Republic offers so many opportunities to each and every of its 200 volunteers to get involved with high quality programs. Programs that make your job feel fun and always new. I know there is something to be said for being close at home in your site for consecutive months at a time without leaving, but I have certainly enjoyed witnessing the personal growth and pure curiosity of my youth group members as we get to travel around the country. They get to share their lives with other youth from far away who are equally excited about sharing their lives. As youth we inspire each other to not use plastic bags, organize creek clean ups, and speak directly about the kind of environment we want to grow up in.

So my life is moving about from one conference to another. Sometimes I think I´m a trips counselor at some long extended summer camp in the Caribbean. I guess you have to enjoy what you do… so I´ve made a job out of being a kid again. This weekend brings movie watching to town. The movie is ``Maria full of Grace.`` You should check it out if you haven’t seen it.

Think about what really makes you comfortable, then orient your life around that.

Signing out from a whole lot of mind boggling, poverty-freeing paradise.

Jared

Summer Camp in October

There are some moments when you play with kids that just feel so pure. This past weekend was shared with one of my best friends, Dan Golub, and 19 Dominican muchachos. I was brought back to memories of summer camp in Michigan and Bowen Island, Canada. Singing on the bus, tag in the river, climbing hills so that we could unite on the top and have a meaningful discussion. We talked about HIV/AIDS; why mother Earth is so precious and unique; and how to build a sleek paper air plane. I think my favorite activity of the weekend was seeing the 11-14 year muchachos build boats from cardboard and duct tape and then test them to see if they could ride down the river with a munchacho on board. What ensued was ultimate hilarity. In fact, the two boats that won the competition appeared to be the most poorly put together. It just happened that the muchachos that captained them weighed less than the amount of rice and beans I eat in one day, so they made a successful passage without their cardboard masterpiece sinking.

So without a doubt I have found a niche here in Peace Corps Dominican Republic and that is introducing creative and curious Dominicans to other creative and curious Dominicans… not such a difficult task if you´re working with creative and curious crowds. On average of about once a month I´m on the road to some ``distant destination`` on the island to enjoy a long weekend of summer camp style play and experiential education. Everything we try to teach is hands on. We learn about the history of slavery on Hispanola (the island of Haiti and the DR) or try to tackle topics of machismo or why this society consistently litters their trash across the beautiful green land. I find that Dominican kids, especially boys ages 12-18, desire adventure and learning through a mechanism I call ``getting dirty.`` What is taught in school rarely interests them or the teachers do nothing more than lecture straight out of a text book and then assign kids to copy definitions until they can no longer grip their pencil. No wonder reading comprehension and being able to analyze a story is often difficult for most muchachos. Almost none of the muchachos 15 and under in my barrio can read aloud ``Curious George`` front to back in less than 45 minutes. So they become drop outs in pursuit of a job to support their family or a chance to create their own daily schedule of adventure. I think they are well intentioned, just have not been fed enough good plates of DISCIPLINE. If nothing else than the demand of daily ON-TIME attendance to school in a clean blue collared shirt and kaki pants uniform, the muchachos at the very least are developing a routine… and good routine is something that a life in poverty can lack.

So I try to take the kids who are studying and consistently attending school on these long weekend excursions. We play like its summer camp, but put into practice the fundamentals of disciplined living; like using ``Please & Thank You`` or washing your own dish after eating good food, or writing a note to someone saying you care about them, or learning to be completely silent for 15 straight seconds to reflect upon the good that has happened to you that day. Ever so slowly I am learning how to be straight up with kids when they need a little 1-2 punch. In this last conference titled ``Soy Ingeniero`` (I´m an Engineer) 14 zear olds Christopher, Jackson, and Kelvin from my community of ojo de Agua decided they needed to be singing at the top of their lungs at 2:30 in the morning while the farmers of Roblegal and the rest of the PC volunteers tried to sleep in out tents. I have to remember what it means to be 13. If the Dominican Republic summer camp lifestyle is teaching me anything, it is how to be a responsible father. It shall certainly be a joy and a piece of work when I someday have a wild teenage kid of my own.

Signing out after a day of rest and recuperation.

Play something today. It´ll make you youthful.

Jared

Art Class & Getting Dirty

The chance to be taught by someone who knows a lot about what they are teaching has me hooked on a local drawing class in the ¨Casa de Arte.¨ I feel so privileged to be in a town where affordable opportunities present themselves to youth. Heading into the third week of art classes I’ve nothing more than fill the back side of 5 sheets of photo copy paper with vertical and diagonal lines. Big deal ehh…A Picaso in the making… yeah!? But Professor Torres says you have to practice and “dominate” the fundamentals from which every image will be formed. The course is actually titled ¨Pintura¨ but it looks like we may not stroke a bush on some canvas until the second semester of class beginning in January. There’s no rush. Why should there be? Art is and expression of patience and patience I think is what helps allow the world to be happy.

Anyways I get to experience the feeling of being an international student like my good college friends, Rhaad of Bangladesh and Alcia of Jamaica and Ruben of Spain. It easy to feel like you have become the spectacle of the classroom, or the lost student asking questions whose answers were clearly addressed just 30 seconds before you bravely raised your hand. At least one of my best fiends in the community, Christopher, a 14 year old artist I the making, joins me for class. As an adolescent he’s totally over the whole back to fundamentals thing of patiently filling sheets of paper with straight lines, but I think it’s a great lesson in discipline for him…something I think he could use an extra dose of.

Anyways, learning how to draw will not come in one semester, nor without the practice of patience, but I’m loving the experience and the chance to share it with a young Dominican friend. On other fronts I’ve noticed my hands a little more worn as of late. Nothing to compare to the farming hands of my late grandfather John Wesley Oubre Senior, but I do know that at least I’m starting to develop some tougher calluses. A new tree nursery site has been created back of my house with the help of 2 earnest men, Jose Antonio and Pedro, and some loving kids. We are a small crew of 5-8, but a well juiced machine, especially when the Donas are aside us offering fresh squeezed lemonade or bread and coffee. The coolest thing about the nursery is that the trees are germinated from the very seeds that I have the kids in the neighborhood collect. They get to see the life cycle of a delicious tropical fruit from its sweet consumption to its seeding back into the earth where growth almost intantly happens with the strong Caribbean sun and rain. Right now we have an abundance of mango and avocado saplings just hoping we can branch out to chinola, guyaba, lechosa, and lemoncillo (all really great tropical fruits).

It´s totally a learning experience (fly by the seat of my pants), but I love just getting my hands dirty. I was talking with spry 70 year old Tonita today and we agreed that even here on the edge of the rural campo in one of the most productive agricultural regions of the Dominican Republic, there are few kids who find great interest in agriculture. For me it’s an exciting new adventure, for them it’s more work than they desire in a 21st century fused with technological advances that seem to make small scale gardens and trees nurseries a thing of the past. We work together to find a happy medium. We’re still waiting for that first tree to be ready to jump from its potted plant stage into the soil on the hillside of Ojo de Agua. I’ll keep you updated on the progress.

Dive into something new because there’s always something important to learn from trying.

Peace,
Jared

Soccer & Nico

It was a last minute decision, but God was with me as I scrambled looking for youth in my community who could pass on school for 3 days to attend a conference on DIVERSITY. Yes, I guess it’s good sign that most parents did not want their kids absent 2 weeks into classes, and yes, the big ¨D¨ word DIVERSITY, arises all around the world.

Now that the conference has passed I can honestly say that without a healthy serving of fun and team building exercises learning would be as dull and bland as over-cooked cabbage. I am always looking to see how kids learn outside their community, outside of their comfort zones, interacting with ¨strangers.¨ I am still developing a sense of trust with those who have ever never left the fringes of this town, San Jose de Las Matas, and I am still very much a foreigner when I try to describe the world outside the island of the Dominican Republic and Haiti. I cannot talk with university level vocabulary, so I connect games to ideas and draw messages and lessons from there. A deck of cards can go a long way as well as any random ball. It´s called KID Oubre trying to be PROF Oubre.

In the mountains of Jarabacoa it was the soccer ball that brought forth a million smiles. Never have I found Dominican boys to be so enthusiastic about playing the worlds sport of futbol. Six thirty every morning was the knock on my door, 6:35 we were on the beautiful field taking wacks at the ball. We played straight for one hour and twenty five minutes before 8AM breakfast, stopping the game only to drop the kids for ¨dame 10 lagartillas¨ (give me 10 push-ups), if they touched the ball with their hands. Prayer before breakfast was said sweating, fresh off the field. I told myself I was back at summer camp… actually, that was my goal!

So another highlight included becoming closer with Nico, a good friend I met playing soccer in Batey Libertad. He’s Haitian-Dominican and receives a fair amount of discrimination from the National Police when traveling to and from his community. He quickly became a role model at the conference with his speed and flash on the soccer field as well as when her took the floor in front of some 45 Dominican youth to share some very real stories about growing up in the DR as a dark skinned boy. Racial discrimination is pretty blatant here in the DR despite the fact that almost everyone is mulato and has some sort of African blood in them. I mean no too long ago this island of Hispaniola was a destination for most slaves heading to the New World. Anyways, at 21 years of age Nico is well educated, understands why he should continue pursuing his passion of soccer, and at the same time study to realize his dream of being a qualified elementary school teacher. If there is one youth I’ve worked with whose story I find incredibly intriguing, it is this young mans. He´s been hauled by the Dominican authorities to the border of Haiti and the DR with his local soccer team of Haitian decent, only to be left there to sleep on the floor of the bus station. The Police said they did not ¨believe¨ their Dominican birth certificates and ID cards to be “real.”

The story of immigration is incredibly interesting here in the DR. It is the only open border in the world, allowing Dominicans and Haitians to walk freely across the border exchanging clothes, jewelry, corn, sugar, beans, goats… you name it. And amid all this exchange there is an unacceptable racial inequality that loudly exposes itself. I want to understand how we can tackle this issue as a Dominican and Haitian Community. Nico was born in the Dominican Republic. He is Dominican. But most Dominicans do not treat him with respect because he looks Haitian. Why is that? I want to understand racism in 2010 in the DR.

Meanwhile I play soccer with Dominican and Haitians and it brings us together!

Go play the sport you grew up playing. It might just be more refreshing than eating watermelon.

Peace,
Jared

Precious Summer

The moments of 2010 have passed with such velocity that I don't imagine it will be too long until we have reached the year 3010. Some Peace Corps volunteers are counting down the months until their service is over, while others are looking to file for an extension. I find myself in neither situation. I am thinking much about the moment. The present summer has consumed my thought, especially with the fun in planning a summer camp called "Organizando mi Comunidad." It's healthy to have these Sunday's as a bit of down time. Here in the Dominican Republic a long extended siesta after lunch visits from family members on the weekend have been some of my most memorable moments. The barrio fills up with kids dressed in bright Caribbean colors and food enough to cure a famine. I try to stay close to home, not work, and enjoy the fact that "I am because you are." (conscientious words of Mexican poet Octavio Paz). We are connected as one force of humanity. A Dominicans desire to be in the presence of each other is a powerful reminder of how we can share the stories of our own lives as a form of basic entertainment.

So two weeks ago I spent preparing for the construction of a vivero (tree nursery). Seventeen Peace Corps Volunteers from the environmental sector came to visit my site to help construct a community tree nursery. The muchachos in my youth group, "Defensores del Medioambiente," (Defensors of the Environment) are most interested in planting fruit trees. They show interest in living the life of the campesino, while at the same time washing their converse squeaky clean, gelling their hair back, wiping off the stunner shades, and heading into the center of town to stroll the park and posting up to find the best looking girl or guy.

It can be a difficult job to read their interests at times, but the focus remains on community projects. I feel blessed to have such freedom to develop compost bins and gardens without the pressures of strict time lines… nobody putting an order to the madness of community development. It's kinda like always Saturday here. You can rest if you want and someone will gladly accompany you, you can play all day long as if you were in an AYSO soccer tournament, or you can break out the pick and tend to the garden as if it were a hobby and not 10 hours of slave paying labor. I love the options, all though I do have to be straight with myself about when I am going to take my own time. I at least know that Saturdays I will dedicate to washing my clothes and cleaning my house... I involve the kids that come over to play because cleaning alone makes the day extra long... and I know that Sundays are peaceful with God and family.

It's summer time so take a moment to enjoy the sun.

With A Tropical Burst of Love,
Yarred