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.