In which Tim goes to a meeting...

Every six months my partner organization gets evaluated to see if they are spending their grant money well. This consists of an inspector coming to visit, and interviewing everyone involved with the project (directors, peace corps volunteers, engineers, farmers, community leaders, you name it). My community is (relatively) close to the highway, so we have often been the host of these meetings in the past. This time, though, the inspector decided that she wanted to visit a community a little farther off the beaten track, so as to hear the stories of the people who aren't represented at these meetings very often. A noble goal, to be sure.

The logistics involved were kinda complicated, though. We had to figure out how to transport about 35 people (5 reps from each community involved in the project) to this small town that is really no more than a school house that is miles away from anything else and on top of a mountain. And the roads that go there should not be described as roads. They are steep dirt tracks that are covered with rocks.

We had two pickup trucks that were supposed to haul all of us, so we piled in when they arrived at eight in the morning and got ready for the bumpy and uncomfortable ride up the hill. We were all dressed in our Sunday best. Men, women, even a few kids. Now riding up a steep dirt road in the bed of a pickup truck is bumpy and uncomfortable under most circumstances, but it is made more so when that pickup bed is overflowing with people. I mean, we had people hanging off the back bumpers, off of both sides, and piled on top of each other in the middle. Very tight.

We did alright until we hit the steep part of the hill. The truck overheated, and was unable to go any farther due to the smoke pouring out from under the hood. We were still two miles down the mountain from our destination, and a mile past the closest town. So what did we do? We started to walk, Sunday clothes and all. The whole two miles to our destination.

We arrived sweaty and an hour later than we were supposed to. But this being the Dominican Republic, we were actually a few hours early. The people from the organization weren't there yet. The only person around was an eighty five year old man who looked like a raisin with eyes. He was running around looking for cinder blocks that we could use as seats because we quickly filled up all the chairs.

Eventually the inspector did show up. She was a little old lady who was very smart and tough as nails. Her audience were a group of crusty old farmers who aren't used to being contradicted (especially by a woman). We had a very amusing meeting, and some difficult questions were asked about the project. This makes me happy, since I've been kind of worried about the sustainability of this project for a while. I also got to talk the ladies ear off for a few minutes.

All in all it was a very "Peace Corps" kind of day. We were dressed in style and late, things broke down, there was a lot of sweat involved, we were sitting on cinder blocks, but at the end of the day everything worked out. Somehow it always does.

In which Tim moons his community, and learns some local medical techniques...

This entry is a sequel to the last one, regarding the significant injury I sustained to my fanny whilst trying to celebrate carnival.

I returned to my community still black and blue, and walking a little bit crooked. I would have liked to go for a ride on my horse, but that idea was laughable given my inability to sit down on a regular chair without wincing (let alone a saddle).

My neigbors were sympathetic to my pain, apologizing for the bizarre behavior of their fellow countrymen. Sitting at my house on the evening of my return, I described the bruise to one of my buddies. He asked to see it. I was in the privacy of my own home, so I saw no problem with pulling down my pants and letting him take a look. I did, and he let out a yell of surprise upon viewing the thing. He yelled out the door to a few other guys hanging out next door "Hey, come check this bruise out!" So then I had about six Dominicans ogling my bottom.

It was no big deal in and of itself. But I had no idea what kind of a can of worms I had opened. Over the next few days, as I visited the various families in communities, people frequently asked to see my injury. Gossip spreads fast around here, and I guess everyone had heard that I had quite a shiner to display. So everyone wanted to see it, and not knowing what else to do, I obliged him. So now half the community has seen my butt. The response is always amusing. Lots of yelling and sympathy. But I am not sure if they are more amused by the site of my pale heiny, or by the massive bruise. Who can tell.

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On a related note, my girlfriend Kim was sustained similar injuries during our carnival (mis)adventure. She returned to her site, and her neigbor offered her a medicine that was guaranteed to cure the bruise quickly. It was a mixture of aloe and snake guts, topped off with a chicken feather.

Kim told me about this on the phone, and I thought it was bizarre. I went and told my host family about it, expecting them to agree that it was a very strange remedy. Instead, my host mother looked at me with a straight face and said "Yes, that is a very good remedy. Would you like me to make you some? I don't have any snake right now, but I am sure we could find some!" I declined, and left the conversation wondering why after a year in country these things still shock me.

In which Tim gets his butt whipped...

Carnaval is a very festive time of year around here. It is a holiday that does not make a lot of sense to me, and no one has been able to explain it very well. As far as I can tell, the main attraction are the large festive costumes that a lot of people put on to go walk in parades. Some of the costumes look like monsters or demons, and others are more fun. There is usually a lot of alcohol that goes along with these parades. I think Carnaval began as something to lead up to the lent season (much like Mardi Gras), but it has kind of become its own big attraction, so celebration usually goes on a few days after Ash Wednesday.

I chose to observe Carnaval by travelling to La Vega, a medium sized town in the middle of the country that boasts the largest and most festive Carnaval around. I went with a big group of volunteers, prepared to take some pictures and have a good time.

Now, there is a tradition at Carnaval that is very strange and more than a little bit wrong. The men in costumes have ropes with inflated pig bladders (resembling balloons) on the end. They like to swing the rope around, and bash onlookers on the bottom with the pig bladder. Really hard. Their favorite targets are young, attractive women, and tourists. And we had a lot of each of those in our group.

I knew about this tradition, and I was prepared to be a gallant defender of the ladies. I took up a spot in the rear of our group as we moved through the crowd, hoping that the presence of myself (a tall man) between the women and the bashers might discourage a little bit of the physical abuse. I was wrong. While the girls might have been hit a little bit less, the guys with the bladders had absolutely no problem going after me instead. And I think they might have been a little mad that I was keeping them from tormenting the cute little Americanas. Because they hit me REALLY hard. My back side is literally black and blue. I can barely sit down right now. I would post a photo, but I like to keep this blog at a PG-13 level. I am sure you can all imagine what a heavily bruised bottom looks like. Yikes.

So yes, it is a strange holiday. I will let you know if I learn any more about what it all means.

In which Tim tells you, again, what he has been reading...

Here is the latest list of literary works that I have been immersed in lately. Let me know if YOU have been reading anything good, and I can try to track it down. I have a lot of time to read.

"Leaving Home" by Garrison Keillor
A written collection of "News from Lake Wobegon" monologues given by Keillor on the radio, during the '80s. Excellent writing. Funny, said, poignant. This man has quickly become one of my very favorite writers.

"Banker to the Poor" by Mohammed Yunus
The nobel-laureate founder of the Grameen Bank in Bangladesh tells the story of how he decided to start lending money to poor people. Lots of interesting thoughts about development work and the nature of poverty, even if the author acts disgustingly proud of himself at times.

"The Screwtape Letters" by C.S. Lewis
An oldie but a goodie. Lewis employs his unmatched creativity in calling the reader to think deeply about the spiritual world.

"The Problem of Pain" by C.S. Lewis
I have read it before, but it was an entirely new experience to wrestle with it while surrounded by poverty and suffering that has an immediacy far behind what I have experienced in the past. This book will be a part of my library for a long time.

"The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay" by Michael Chabon
Winner of the Pulitzer prize, this novel is about two young Jewish men in New York City during the Second World War. They start a comic book company, and become very successful. The book has all kinds of interesting history about comic books, how they were inspired, how they were initially received, etc. The book also deals with issues of the holocaust, immigration, and the way America was changing in the post war years. A great read.

"Watership Down" by Richard Adams
I hope my father is reading this entry, because I am rather furious that he never read this book out loud to me when I was younger. I could not put it down. It is about a group of wild rabbits who leave their home to start a new colony. It may sound silly, but this is an epic adventure on par with Lord of the Rings, or the Chronicles of Narnia. Exquisitely written, with vivid characters. This might be the best book I have read since coming to this country. Dad, what gives?

"The Nine" by Jeffrey Toobin
This new book is a well written history of the last several years of the United States Supreme Court. Toobin does a great job painting portraits of the Justices, their personalities, idiosyncrasies, etc. This book is a great way for someone who doesn't know that much about the Supreme Court to learn about the complex dynamics that have such a big impact on the country. I recommend it.

"The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger
I had not read it since high school, and I found it a lot funnier this time around then I did the first time. It is a book that's worth going back to. I wonder whatever happened to ol' Holden Caulfield in the end.

"The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien
I read Lord of the Rings fairly often, but it had been a while since I picked up the prequel. It is fun, but lacks some of the heart breaking beauty of its big brother.

"White Mughals: Love and Betrayal in 18th century India" by William Dalrymple
A fascinating book. Dalrymple tells the very well researched story of the romance between a British diplomat and an Indian aristocrat, the controversy it caused within both cultures, and the greater historical context that it all fits into. I recommend this to anyone who is interested in the history of the British in India, or just in issues of colonialism. Dalrymple talks about a generation of European "colonizers" who were far more interested in learning the language and culture of their hosts than anything else. These guys ended up becoming more Indian, rather than trying to make Indians become British. Really interesting.


More to come soon. Thanks to those of you who have sent books or made recommendations...