Regarding the work done by his friends...

I just finished my "One Year In Service Training" conference. I got together for a few days with all of the volunteers who came into the country with me who are working in the same sector. There are twenty of us, and we spent the first three months in country training together. This group is more or less the closest thing I have to a big family here in the Peace Corps. Since arriving in country we have not had a single person have to drop out. We are proud of that.

We live all over the country, and each of us does some kind of work related to the environment. We do trash pickups, reforestation, construction projects to conserve natural resources, education, responsible farming, and even some health extension work Some of us are in cities, and many live in the country side. We work with youth, farmers, politicians, or some mix of all of them. We build stoves, latrines, tree nurseries, and lots of other things. Our list of potential job activities is really long. Most of us have chosen our own strategy based on our individual skills and community, but there is a lot of commonality. That's why we have conferences like this. To swap stories, and sort of discuss where we are going as a sector.

It was a really neat couple of days. I got to hear about all the amazing work that my colleagues are doing. Amy and Taylor (a married couple) were struck by all of the health problems in their community related to chemical pesticide use, and have recently succeeded in convincing ALL of their community members to stop using that pesticide. My buddy Chris has gotten himself teaching regular science classes at his local high school, in the middle of dirty urban slum (where education is needed more than almost anywhere). Joel, Anne, and Tim are experimenting with ways to build clean air stoves that will be more affordable to poor families than the current model we use. Destin has started an eco-tourism cooperative that had 400 people show up to their first meeting. This is to say nothing of all the trees that have been planted, garbage cans that have been installed, stoves that have been built, classes that have been taught, and all the other things done by this neat group of people in the past year. I am very proud of them. I'm excited to see how much we do as a group before we finish in a year!

In which Tim goes to the bathroom...

Part of life in the Peace Corps is adjusting to the dramatic things that can happen to our tummies. Occasionally we volunteers get knocked flat by mysterious stomach bugs that seemingly come from nowhere. We might spend three days running back and forth from the toilet, and have no idea whether it came from the river water we brushed our teeth with, or possibly the fried chicken feet from lunch last weekend. It is a part of life, and you either get used to it and keep yourself hydrated, or you go home.

The most amusing part of these troubles is the way that they sometimes arrive very, very suddenly and under comical circumstances. For example...last week. I was doing a little bit of shopping to replace a defunct pair of flip-flops. Suddenly my gut was churning, and I knew that I could not wait very long at all. The situation was urgent. I sheepishly asked an employee of the store I was in if it would be possible to use their employee bathroom. She giggled, possibly at the way my face was turning purple as I strained to postpone what was about to happen. Her coworkers and the other customers in the store also looked very amused at this tall white man who was clearly suffering. I was led into the back of the store where I found the bathroom.

I did my business quickly, and immediately felt much better. As I pulled my pants up, however, I noticed that floor of the bathroom was covered in about an inch of standing water. I had not noticed this when I dropped my pants in the first place. Now the crotch region of my pants was completely soaked. It looked as though I had peed my pants. Wonderful.

The full gravity of the situation didn't hit me until a second later. There was a crowd of people outside the bathroom who knew I had been in a rush to use it. Now I had a big wet stain in front of my pants. It was going to look like I had not made it to the toilet in time, and had wet myself. I could now either hide in the bathroom to avoid embarassment, or walk out and let them think what they want. And a bathroom is not a pleasant place to hide. Out I went, and made as quick an exit as I could from the store. The employees definitely laughed as I walked by. At least my pants dried out pretty fast in the Caribbean sun.

Regarding celebrity...

I guess when one is a celebrity they are able to do things that aren't considered normal for your average run of the mill citizen. I definitely have celebrity status in my little part of the country, being one of fewer than ten white people living in the area. I have gotten used to people I've never met knowing my name. I have grown accustomed to receiving special treatment when I role into the local shops, or while visiting people. It comes with the territory. I've never, though, felt comfortable using my celebrity to get things that I want. Well, that might have changed.

Last Sunday was Mother's Day, and I consider myself a good son. Right now, however, this good son cannot afford roses, chocolates, cards, or any of the normal things we get our moms in America. I figured the least I could do was call her. So I made my way down the hill, only to find upon arriving in the place where there is cell phone signal that my cell phone was out of battery power. This is normally not a problem, because I can just plug into any outlet to charge it. On this particular day, however, the power was out. And no one could tell me when it would be back.

I started wandering through town looking for anyone who might be running a generator. I tried a few shops without luck. I went to the local catholic priests house, but he was unable to help me. I asked a few kind looking strangers sitting on their porches. No one had any juice to run my cell phone. Finally I rolled into the local fire station, and saw that they had power. I explained the situation to them (that I needed to call my mother) and they replied that they would be honored to have a distinguished person like me, who is doing so much for their community, use their electricity. So it all worked out. I called my mother from a room full of Dominican fire fighters (who wouldn't stop staring at me). I will have to see what other uses I can put my fame to.

In which Tim comments on Swine Flu...

I logged onto the web today to check email, and I was bombarded with messages from friends and family asking me about this swine flu that seems to be all the rage in America right now.  I promise, my health is fine.  I have no pig related illnesses. 

I deal with pigs all the time.  I chased one out of my yard this morning.  I've never gotten sick from them, although I see how one could.  If I spent my time handling pigs at close quarters (which many of my neighbors do) and neglected to wash my hands (which is common around here) I would expect an illness much worse than a little bit of flu.  Pigs are dirty and rude.  Any illiterate Dominican peasant could tell you that.  They are not at all like the fluffed up little things you see in movies like "Babe".  America seems shocked that these animals could be carrying disease.  

We shouldn't be surprised when we consider the fact that we make these animals live packed together in cement boxes, wallowing in their own feces and eating food that they were never meant to eat.  And when they get sick, we pump them full of antibiotics, killing weak viruses but possibly allowing stronger ones to thrive.  I am no scientist, but this sounds like an ideal situation for the evolution of new forms of disease.

I guess I don't see what the big deal is with the pig fever.  This thing is all over the news, but fewer than 500 people have gotten sick.  I think only one person has died.  When was the last time you read a news story (or a twitter post, for that matter) about the 15 million children who died of hunger last year?  Maybe we should talk about that instead.  Or maybe it would just make us feel bad about ourselves.  It's not quite as exciting as sick pigs.

Regardless of how uncomfortable we may be in talking about it, world wide deaths from AIDS, tuberculosis, malaria, and good old starvation are many.  Let's tone down the talk about the pig flu and start solving the real problems.

In which Tim visits a school...

My girlfriend, Kim, is thinking about extending her Peace Corps service. She found a website about a small school run by an American group that offers classes to poor Haitian students who the government refuses to educate (Haitians get a really bum deal in this country. They come to the DR looking for opportunity and a generally better life, but they end up getting treated like second class citizens. They do all the dirty low paying jobs that no one else wants, and they deal with all kinds of discrimination. They don't receive services from the government, and they are often made to live in slum/ghettoes that are called "bateys". It is a very sad situation.).

The school that Kim discovered claimed to be located in a sub neigborhood of Barahona (big city near me) that I always thought to be pretty wealthy. Sure enough, as we zipped through town on our motorcycle taxis I was looking at massive, pillared houses that put my mountain hovel to shame. But then we turned off the main road, and the picture changed drastically.

We found ourselves bumping along roads that clearly hadn't seen any kind of maintenance for the last ten years. All dirt and rocks. The houses were packed together like sardines, and seemed to be made of whatever was laying around. Some dwellings were cement, but others were nothing more than piles of zinc or sticks that might fall down with the next stiff breeze. There were kids everywhere in the streets, and a lot of teenagers hanging around looking bored. These are the marks of an underprivileged community here. The kids don't go to school, and the young people have no work opportunities.

The streets wound this way and that, and we wandered in circles for a while before figuring out where we were going. Eventually we found the school building, which was bigger than the website made it seem, but empty. We tracked down a care taker, and later one of the teachers, who told us that the school is currently closed due to lack of funding. They hope to re-open in the fall.

They've been operating for about five years, bringing education to those who probably would not have it otherwise. They started in a backyard shack, but the deluge of students meant they had to expand. They now have over a hundred students sitting at home, waiting to go back to school. It is a sad story, but hopefully things will get better, and hopefully Kim can play a part. If anyone is interested in learning more, or possibly contributing to help get this school on it's feet again, their website is here.

In which Tim talks about change...

I have been in the Dominican Republic for 14 months. In a few weeks I will celebrate an entire year of service in my community. Anniversaries like this bring about reflection. I remain fundamentally the same person I was a year ago, but some things have changed. Here is a list of observations, written in a hurry with no particular pattern or end in mind.

-I am more patient. Meetings starting hours late, and pointless hikes over hill and dale have taught me that life does not always work out according to my agenda. I have come to realize that that's okay. I can be flexible, and the sun will continue to rise if certain goals and deadlines are not met.

-I am skinnier by twenty pounds. Hiking and eating healthy country food are pretty good for the belly, it turns out. The occasional stomach problems have contributed as well...

-I am thinking like a farmer. My day starts by looking at the sky and figuring out what the weather will be like. The annual calendar is determined not by months and dates, but by whatever we are planting or harvesting. Quite a change from the microsoft outlook controlled life of professional America.

-My idealism has matured. I remain strong in the belief that addressing issues of poverty and injustice is a moral imperative. I understand now, though, that solving these problems is neither simple nor fast.

-I know how to use a machete and ride a horse.

-My hair is longer.

-I have learned to get by with very, very little electricity. I use my cell phone and iPod daily (which I charge whenever I am in town), and my battery operated head lamp to get around at night. That's all the juice I consume. I really don't feel that I am living a lower quality of life, either. I wonder if such low levels of consumption are possible in the States. Anyone care to try?


There are many ways I have not changed at all. I still love a good hamburger, MSU basketball, the movies, good books, and long conversations. Still the same Tim, just a little modified.

If you would like to investigate the changes for yourself, I am currently planning a tour of America that will take place this summer. Tour dates are as follows:

June 10-14: Grand Rapids, MI.
June 14-18: Madison, WI.
June 18-24: Select locations in New England.
June 24-28: Nashville, TN.
June 29-July 1: Washington, DC.

Contact my booking agents if you are interested in hosting a showing. PCV's don't make a lot of cash, so I will happily sing for my supper.

In which Tim goes to the doctor(s) and muses about health care...

Peace Corps is obviously a part of the US Government, which has its ups and downs. The negative aspects have to do with bureaucracy and silly rules that are very inflexible. For example, right now we are not allowed to open any of our mail inside the office, because someone might be sending us anthrax. Why anyone would try to anthrax a Peace Corps volunteer is beyond me, but uncle Sam knows best.



Yes, there are downs, but there are lots and lots of ups. Like how we get to use the embassy pool and restaurant when we are in the capital. Very nice. But the best thing of all is the health care we get as volunteers. It is free, and covers everything. We have two doctors in the office who we can talk to whenever we come in, and call at any hour of the day or night. They have an entire closet full of drugs to give us, and if they don't have what we need they send out for it.



I have been in country for a year now, which means I have go through a routine medical exam to make sure I am still fit to serve my country. I got to go see a doctor for a full check up, and a dentist for cleaning and cavity check. All of my parts are in good working order, and despite the countless cups of sugar saturated coffee I've had over the last year, I have not a single cavity.



The government pays for us to see the best of the best private doctors. All the waiting rooms I sat in were airconditioned, with marble floors and expensive paintings on the wall. The other people waiting were wearing designer jeans and talking on iPhones. Rich people. And I was there with them. It reminded me that despite the fact that I live in a small house without electricity, I am still one of the privileged in this country. I have access to resources that my neighbors could never even dream about.



A few weeks ago a team of doctors came to my community to do general check ups. The crowd formed hours before the doctors even arrived. People hiked miles and miles out of the hills to see them, some carrying their sick family members. There were regular non-serious illnesses, like colds and aching backs. But there were also cuts that had not been cleaned, and become infected to the point that the limb might be lost. There were little kids with serious parasites. I saw a few people who complained of vision problems, and the doctors told them that they were in the early stages of blindness.



The team stayed until after dark. Fortunately they were able to see just about everyone who came. But we don't know when they will come back. There is no hospital. Most of these people cannot afford to travel to the city, let alone pay for treatment. They are illiterate, and have never been taught anything as simple as how to clean out a wound, or make sure the drinking water is clean.



We complain about lack of health care in America, and there are certainly real problems that need to be addressed (I don't know what I will do when I'm no longer under the government's umbrella!). But before we wallow in too much self pity for having to pay what we do for pills or surgeries, remember that at least we have stores that sell the pills. And we have doctors who know how to help us. It would do us some good to remember those who lack what we have been given.



I recommend the book Mountains Beyond Mountains. It is about a doctor who's been doing public health work in Haiti for a long time. Fascinating and convicting stuff.