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.