In which Tim reports the news that you have all been waiting for...

It is true. I, Timothy S. Brown, certified city boy, am now the owner of a horse. He arrived about a week ago while I was off in the capital, and he came with saddle, bit, and bridle. I have christened him ''Capicua'' which is a term related to dominoes, and carries the conotation of good luck. He is a medium sized animal, and white in color. His color makes everyone say that he is the perfect horse for ME to have (ha, ha, ha. white horse for the white guy...I wish I were clever enough to have thought of it first...).

I was told by my project partners who arranged the purchase that he is a very good horse. They said that he was strong, beautiful, and calm. I guess two out of three being true ain't too bad. He is both strong, and attractive. He sure likes to run, though. Every time I have saddled him up so far he has quite literally chomped at the bit wanting to take off down the road. This wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that I have ridden a horse maybe half a dozen times before this, so I am not yet comfortable doing reenactments of the Kentucky Derby in my Dominican countryside. Enough said. We will have to get used to each other a little bit.

One of my neigbors has taken me under his wing, though, and promised to ''enfriar'' (translation...''make cold'') the horse for me. After a week or two he should be ready to match his speed to my comfort.

I will get some pictures up as soon as I am able.

Regarding adventures in transportation...

Funny things happen frequently in this part of the world. For example, this morning I was on my way to town where I now sit using the internet. My minibus was driving up a hill on the highway, and slowed down next to a beat up old station wagon that was parked on the shoulder. It's occupants were waving us down, I thought to probably ask for a ride.

But did they want a ride? No. They wanted our van to push their car up the hill by the bumper so that they could try to pop the clutch and get their hunk of gears started. Did anyone pause and say ''that is a bizarre idea''? Of course not! Our driver reacted non chalantly, as though this were something he has been asked to do every day of his ife. So we lined up behind them, pushed them along, and a few minutes later both vehicles were happily crusing along.

The funniest part of the whole thing was that none of it struck me as being that odd. Maybe living this lifestyle of peeling vegetables with machetes and bathing with a bucket is starting to impact the way I think about things...

In which Tim takes a little trip...

I stayed in my community from Thanksgiving to New Years, so by the first week of January my feet were getting a little bit itchy.  I wanted to explore some parts of the country that I'd not seen yet, visit some friends, and maybe have some adventures.  I packed a bag with a toothbrush, a book, my laptop, a few extra shirts and pairs of underwear, and naturally my swimsuit, and I hit the road.

We started off in a beach town not far from my community, which is the only place in the world where one can find the semi-precious stone known as Larimar.  We found some tumble down shacks that were furnished with saggy beds, and were able to rent them out for $5/night each.  Not bad for being able sleep with the sound of the waves in my ears, and wake up to the sun rising over the Caribbean.

That morning we got up around seven to backtrack down the coast to another beach where we could have breakfast and go for an early swim.  We ate deep fried balls of mashed yucca.  The water was great.

Most of that day was spent navigating public transportation to get to our friend Claire's community (where none of us had been before).  We rode about three buses, a pick up truck, and a few motorcycles.  Before we knew it we were at a cock fighting ring deep in the mountains, where we spent the evening dancing our feet off with the locals.  Nothing too out of the ordinary...

The next morning we played a few rounds of dominoes with the villagers, and hopped another pick up truck to get back into the capital.  Upon getting here we learned that two out of the four of us (myself included) had eaten something we shouldn't have, and now had a case of what we sometimes call "the mud butts".  I suspect the chicken feet I ate the night before.

So here I sit in the capital, getting some work done and visiting the bathroom frequently.  Feel free to get in touch!

Regarding Christmas...

The celebration of the birth of Christ has now come and gone, and I am sure that my vast (I can only hope) readership is fascinated to learn how I spent the holiday. Many volunteers choose to go home to the States, and there are also lots who choose to go to the beach. I opted to stay in my community and learn how back country Dominican farmers do the whole Christmas thing. I am glad I did.

It was nothing terribly outrageous. The awful roads and near total lack of electricity put some limitations on what we are able to do as far as a celbration goes. Still, my neigborhood's population has been about doubled by the flocks of children, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, second cousins, and random acquaintances who have come to call. Some enterprising souls managed to purchase gasoline powered generators, so few houses have had lights and music. Dominicans tend to use loud music and dancing to observe any occasion that is worth observing (Christmas, birthdays, elections, Saturday nights...the list goes on), so there has been a lot of it. The music kicks on around 4 PM and goes at least until 11. The rum has also been flowing in no small amounts. The atmosphere has generally been very festive (and people are offering free food all the time...awesome).

I went to my local evangelical church for Christmas Eve worship. I think there were about 15 of us there, most of whom were young kids who fell asleep before we were finished. It was not exactly the candle light service I am used to, but the lantern light was very candle-esque, and the building we met in is kind of a tumble down old wooden house that I guess looks like a stable. It felt like an appropriate way to celebrate. I learned some Dominican carols, and shared a few of my favorites in English.

I went to bed early, being sure to set out a snack for Santa (a cup of tea, some crackers with peanut butter). He didn't seem to want them, so I had a nice pre-breakfast snack waiting the next morning ;-) .

One of the many Christmas traditions that my family observes is the eating of a delicious breakfast on Christmas morning. I decided to carry on the tradition, and share it with my neigbors. I cooked about a thousand pancakes. This took a little while, because my only frying pan is just big enough to do one flap-jack at a time. Fortunately, I had an army of small children helping me (one adding butter to the pan, one keeping the batter stirred, two manning the platter where the finished pancakes were stacked, one on syrup duty, and about six who were assigned to deliver the finished results to the various households.) so it was a lot of fun. Their reward for helping out was pancakes (I had a lot of them, after all) and a reading, in translation, of Curious George.

In the afternoon I was invited to go crab hunting. This involves hiking through the river, looking for holes in the bank where the crabs might be nesting, and reaching ones arm into the hole to see if anyone is home. If there is a crab, you do your best to grab onto it and pull it out. Often the crab manages to grab onto you first. I have not yet taken a turn at reaching down the hole, but maybe one of these days. If you come visit next Christmas I can take you on a hunt. The meat makes a delicious (and cheap) Christmas supper.