Film Night; and …I’m loving life!

Last week the local youth group threw a fundraising film night in church to raise money for their biannual youth camp. All the children from school and lots of people from the local community went which made for a very… lively few hours. We arrived and sat down in a fairly deserted hall at 6.30ish, however, in classic Dominican style the opening credits didn't start rolling until 7.45. And so, a few bags of popcorn later and surrounded by babbling children we tried to settle down to watch the genius that is ‘Facing the Giants’. Despite the best efforts of the organizers everyone seemed unaware of the film playing in front of them and chatted pretty solidly for the first half an hour (good to know that they aren't just mental in my classes!) However after a wee while everyone settled down and actually got really involved, so much so that when the narrative reached its climax (one of the characters scored a vital point) all the children followed the example of the actors on screen and started yelling, clapping and running outside, - one way to clear the hall! As a result, the remaining twenty or so people were able to enjoy the last fifteen minutes in relative peace.

Despite the craziness, and probably a little bit because of it, it was a really brilliant night. I loved being in the hall surrounded by people you know, kids you teach who come up and fist pump you, play with your hair, sit on your knee or whisper unintelligible Spanish to you through mouths crammed with popcorn. It made me realise how much I have come to love living in a small community. Whilst there are obvious disadvantages (no secrets in La Hoya!) I really am having the time of my life. I love walking through the village and knowing and saying hello to everyone I pass. I love hearing the shout of ‘hola teeaaccher!’ around every corner. I love the feeling of being part of the community when someone imparts a piece of village gossip to you or when you feel comfortable wandering into people’s houses uninvited just to have a chat. I love seeing the same people everywhere and piecing together people’s intertwining lives and relationships. I love building relationships with people be that the kids from school, who I am really starting to love to bits, someone from church, or even just the owner of the local Colmado (kind of like a corner shop). I’ve even grown to love the shouts of ‘Hello, I love you baby’ that come from the slightly suspicious groups of guys sitting on corners or guys on motorbikes who slow right down to hiss as they pass you, or builders who put down their tools to give their English practice of ‘Hello what is your name, I will love you forever baby’ their full attention.

As I write this I am sitting the thatched dining area where school assemblies are held, surrounded by fields of banana trees that stretch up to the green mountains. When I pause in my typing I love just listening to the noise of the village. I can hear music from the bar, and the clang of big iron cooking pots from next door as Mota starts preparing the evening meal for her family. I hear people shouting at each other over the makeshift fences that separate their back yards, where chickens scratch and fuss around under big sprawling mango trees that cast deep shade in the hot sun. I can hear the roar of motorbikes as they speed up after crossing the speed bump outside school and the chirpings of the tiny birds that live in the huge palm tree that grows over our house. Over it all I can hear the chatter and squeals of children that I know and teach as they ride their bikes and play in the street.

As I sit here listening, with the sun shining, banana trees swaying and one of next door’s hens and her brood of tiny cheeping chicks pecking round my flip flop tan lined feet, I realise how lucky I am. This is the most amazing, crazy, incredible experience; the next few months can’t go slow enough because right now, I just never want it to end!

Burns Night

As part of my year in the Dominican Republic with Project Trust I am working towards an international, global citizenship qualification which is the equivalent to a Higher. As part of this qualification I am required to mark and celebrate a National/ International day. Whilst I was tempted to celebrate Dress Up Your Pet Day (15th January for anyone who wants to put that in the diary for next year) I decided, for the sake of both the cats at COPA and my own reputation with Project Trust to ditch that idea (for now anyway…) and instead I chose to celebrate the life of one of Scotland’s greatest poets, Robert Burns.

So, how do I even start teaching children who don’t speak English about a man who wrote in Scots!?
Jings, what have I let myself in for?
I thought long and hard and in the end I decided to focus on one poem in particular: Tam O’Shanter.  This is my favorite Burns poem and I remember learning it in primary school and really loving it.  Despite the language barrier the raw ideas and message behind the poem are highly relevant to people’s lives, not just in the UK but here in La Hoya as well.

For those of you who don’t know the poem I’ll break it down much like I did for the kids in La Hoya:
-There is a man called Tam and one night he leaves his wife, Kate, and goes out drinking.
-After a few drinks he gets on his horse, Meg, and rides off through the moors.
- On his way he sees lots of spooky places where people from the local town have died, been killed or committed suicide.
- He sees a church and is drawn towards the strange light in the window. When he looks in he sees skeletons, ghouls and ghosts dancing, playing the pipes and in the center he sees the devil himself.
- In the center of the floor he sees a woman, Cutty-Sark, and he is bewitched by her.
-Suddenly, she sees him and everything goes black. The music stops and all ghouls and ghosts begin to chase Tam who jumps on Meg and rides as fast as he can.
-The Ghosts cannot cross running water and so Tam heads for the bridge close to the church.
- He rides over it and thinks that he has escaped unscathed but when he looks back he sees that Cutty-Sark had pulled off his horse’s tail just before he reached the bridge.

Well, I have chosen my poem but how do I make of it something creative and fun!?

I first began by doing a school mural board to introduce the idea of Burns Night and give a bit of information about Rabbie himself. As well as doing various activities during the week I also invited students to come to Artistica on Friday to do some extra arty activities.

The great thing about this poem is the imagery and atmosphere that it carries. First I talked each class through the story of Tam O’Shanter using illustrations on the board. I chose two scenes in particular to focus on: the one where he looks into the church and sees the ghosts dancing in the candle light, and the final scene where Cutty-Sark is chasing Tam and Meg across the moors towards the bridge. I also had competitions where each table had to create a story board showing each step of the story.

Whilst this seems like a farfetched tale I chose it because the themes are highly relevant to life here in La Hoya. This is highlighted in the final stanza:

No, wha this tale o' truth shall read,
Ilk man and mother's son take heed;
Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd,
Or cutty-sarks run in your mind,
Think! ye may buy joys o'er dear -
Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare

In short, Tam was a bit of  a hedonist- he drank and was a womaniser. Whilst he thought this brought him happiness the consequences of his actions hurt those who he loved-in this case Meg- his horse- and Kate- his wife.

And so this poem acts as a warning; whilst substances such as alcohol may make you temporarily happy, they ultimately hurt both you and the ones you love if taken to excess.
In La Hoya there are huge problems regarding alcoholism, drugs and adultery. It is fairly normal for men to have more than one wife. A teacher in school for instance has two and the local bar owner has six. Often when I ask children about their fathers they say ‘he lives with his other wife’ or ‘oh yeah he is my dad but he doesn't live with us he lives with his family’ (some of which are often in the same class at school). Although things are changing slowly it is still a fairly normal and accepted part of society.
Lots of social factors stem from economics. One way that people find money is to look for packages of drugs which have floated ashore ( The Dominican Republic is a stopping off point for drugs being smuggled north from South America) and sell them on. This creates obvious problems both legally and socially for those buying and for those selling the drugs. Drug taking is fairly common and it is a problem especially among young men.  Alcoholism and drug addiction create economic and social difficulties just as they do all over the world. Families struggle economically when drink or drugs take a priority and alcohol related violence and accidents are issues that affect not just the immediate victims but all those around them. It is a harsh reality that these are the problems that many of the children I teach have to face every day whether it’s directly or indirectly. When I asked a boy the other week how his weekend was he shrugged and just said ‘lots of drunks’.
And so regardless of the language, geography and time, Burn’s ‘Tom O’Shanter’ is a poem that raises issues that are highly relevant to people’s lives not just here, not just in the UK, but all over the world.

On a lighter note, Rabbie was a bit of a party animal…sooo….

Although, unlike in Scotland, there is no Haggis running wild in the hills of the Dominican Republic I felt like I had to do my people proud and show my English colleges what a Burns night is. 

After a pretty decent Haggis substitute of shepherd’s pie we all went outside into the school assembly area and cleared the tables out of the way to make a dance floor for our ceilidh. There was no power (as usual) so we lit our makeshift dance floor with the head lights from the COPA truck and played music through the speakers. Towards the end we were also joined in a couple of our dances by the night guard's children who had come round to investigate the strange noises coming from the other side of the school.

It was a very surreal and amazing experience, dancing the dances that I have known all my life under the stars, in a country half way across the world, surrounded by swaying fields of green banana trees.  I felt very proud to be able to share this amazing tradition with those around me and although it may not have been the most traditional Burns night in the world, I think that Rabbie would have been proud!

A different Dominican Republic

For New Year all the Project Trust volunteers headed up north to celebrate at one of the biggest beach parties on the island. Cabarete is a town on the North coast famous for water sports. Its one of the best places in the world for kite and wind surfing, and cool surfer dudes flock from all over to get a taste of the legendary beaches.

I was really looking forward to our holiday, it was a chance to take a break from teaching and the rules of COPA and just relax. However, I was not prepared for the world into which I stepped when we got off the bus. Like many places along the North coast of the Dominican Republic Cabarete is surrounded by plush resorts and huge beach-side villas and hotels. The sandy beaches are deckchair-lined and are the sort of places where a nice Dominican or Haitian man will sell you a coconut that you can drink the milk from with a straw. It was quite a shock for a girl who is used to the chilly windswept beaches of the west of Scotland! We walked to our hostel in a sort of daze along a leafy road, lined with huge houses. It was eerily quiet: no crazy music or roaring motorbikes the only noises were the crunch of 4x4 tires on gravel and the occasional snarl of a guard dog that was obscured by one of the formidable gates that barred the drive to almost every property. It felt almost like walking through suburban Florida. It certainly did not feel like I was in the same crazy, noisy, busy country where we had been living for the past four months.

The other thing that struck me was the lack of Dominicans or Haitians. The beaches were lined with deckchairs, almost each one taken by a white person. When we went to a restaurant it was rare to hear Dominican Spanish and everyone talked to you in English. There were so many white people that Dominican men didn’t even hiss at us in the street, they were so used to Americans! Very strange experience for those of us from Barahona where we have seen perhaps ten other westerners in Barahona over the past four months. For me the lack of Dominicans (those who weren’t selling fruit to tourists on the beach, driving taxis or working in restaurants) highlights the huge void between rich and poor that exists in the country. How can so much wealth and extravagance exist in the same place as such extreme poverty? I don’t understand how people can think of building huge beachside villas minutes away from locals who live in makeshift wooden shacks. Almost every third car on the road was a plush SUV but every second was a Gua Gua (local transport: small privately owned minivans in which rides cost between 25 and 100 pesos) filled to bursting with people, sacks of clothes, fruit, the occasional chicken and the ever-crying babies. If people thought to look around them they would see an amazing country filled with craziness, strange situations and friendly people. One of the Gua Guas we got when we were there had 25 and a half people on it, breaking our previous record of 23, (the half being a huge sack of clothes about the size of a small child). This is a vehicle originally built for 12.

The extreme gap between rich and poor in the Dominican Republic, as with the whole Caribbean, is among the worst in the world. When people come to the country they can stay in plush resorts or beachside apartments where they can be somewhere beautiful but don’t have to venture out into the real world and face reality. You can get private buses to the beach or soak up the sun by the pool. You can spend an afternoon in the hotel gym or order drinks from your balcony with a view of the ocean. If you really want to have a bit of an adventure you could get a ‘village safari’, which takes you around the area to see how local people live. Then you can return to your five star resort where you have power 24/7 and go out for a meal where you can talk to other English speaking people. Whilst this might be an extreme generalisation of tourists in the Dom Rep it does not excuse the huge volume of money, ignorance and excess that exists.

What I found when we were there was that lots of people were just in their own bubble, in ignorant bliss of the world around them. The hostel we were staying in was filled with surfers who had traveled from all over the world to try out Cabarete’s legendary waves. I love meeting different people and that’s the joy of staying in a hostel and traveling; you get to meet loads of new people who you wouldn’t normally cross paths with. We met a couple of Canadian guys who were in the process of kayaking from Brazil to Miami, they were five months in to the seven month journey that covers about 6500km (if you want to know more about it their website is henrykayak.com). Talking to people like that who are traveling and doing crazy adventures made us all feel a bit jealous. Whilst we are all loving what we are doing I think at some points a year can feel like a long time to stay in one place. However that’s the challenge isn’t it? That’s the beauty of what we are doing and what all Project Trust volunteers are doing. We aren’t on holiday, staying in gated houses or beachside resorts. We aren’t traveling from place to place, always moving on to the next destination. This year is a chance for all of us to really connect to a place and a community, to be engulfed by another culture and way of life. We are here because we are ready to be hit in the face with the reality of what the world really is. We are stepping out of the bubble and whilst sometimes that can be really really tough and frustrating I wouldn’t swap it for the world.

 

Christmas on the Beach

We were all a bit nervous about Christmas. Away from family, dark evenings, freezing weather and Christmas telly but it was also a mile stone that we were very glad and proud to reach. Christmas is celebrated on Christmas eve here and we were invited to lots of peoples houses in the village for Christmas dinner. Starting with Mota, our next door neighbour we worked our way up to the main street dropping in and eating with different people on the way. It was a lovely way to celebrate and share with people and as usual everyone was lovely and the food was plentiful and excellent!

The next day we sat round the decorated branch that was our Christmas tree, ate chocolate and opened presents from each other and ones that our lovely families had sent over. Then the Bombita volunteers came over and after a second round of presents we jumped in the back of the truck and headed to the beach! Christmas dinner on the beach consisted of Dominican spaghetti, avocado salad, potato salad, Mangoo (mashed Yukka) followed by fudge, tiffin, cake, and coconut cake. No turnkey to be seen, a brilliant meal! We spent the rest of the day in our swimming costumes (and Christmas socks…) chatting and relaxing on the beach, a first for all of us.

We didn't want to recreate a Christmas that we would have at home because what ever we did it wouldn't be the same. Doing a Dominican style pub crawl, eating spaghetti on the beach and swimming in the stream coming down from the mountains was an excellent way to spend our Caribbean Christmas.