The Long Goodbye

Goodbyes can be awkward and emotional. Which is why I am not enjoying my current long and strung-out goodbye with the Dominican Republic. 

Leaving the U.S. for the D.R. was relatively easy. I was excited for a new adventure and I knew I would only be gone two years. Leaving the D.R. has been completely different. While I am excited to start the next chapter in my life, I am leaving behind not just a job, but a community. I have no idea when I will have the chance to visit the D.R., and since my community doesn’t have cell phone service (let alone internet), keeping in touch with my host family and friends is going to be a challenge. My neighbors have also realized that our relationship is about to change, and they can’t help but remind me constantly that I will be leaving them soon.

The goodbye started in November when my neighbors started to ask how much longer I would be living in the D.R. “Don’t worry,” I said, “I still have seven months left.” But worry they did. In December my host mom cried as I said goodbye before I headed home for a two week vacation. Kids have written me letters asking me not to leave and have also threatened to steal my suitcases. My project partners have asked me on several occasions to stay another year. To everyone who asks me to stay, I politely explain that while I love them all, I miss my family and my country, and that I want to live in a modern city. 

Some of the kids have gotten possessive of my stuff.

Yet, while I have tried to make the decision to leave seem like an easy one, the decision to leave was a hard choice to make. I seriously considered staying on the island for another year, but in the end America won. There is still a small part of me that wants to stay, so every time a student asks me to stay it is like a little knife it pricking my heart. In my dreams I take all my neighbors to America with me and spend all my time watching them experience luxuries we take for granted, like movie theaters, hot running water, dish washers, elevators, amusement parks, etc.

Something I am still trying to figure-out is what am I going to do with all the stuff I have accumulated over the past two years? My neighbors would like me to give everything I have to them. Even before people began to ask when I was leaving, they would tell me things like, “Susi, I like your shirt. Give it to me when you leave.” Now that my departure is only a few months away these requests have become more frequent. My 10 year-old BFF has threatened to kill me if I don’t give her my plastic storage container. I don’t mind giving my things away, but I am concerned that there will be hurt feelings if people don’t get what they want. As of now, my plan is to wait until the day before I leave to give things out that way I only have to deal with angry neighbors for one day.

My neighbors want my cat too - but he is coming with me!

As for what is next for me after Peace Corps, well I don’t have that figured out either. However, if I have learned one thing from Peace Corps it is not to stress. I know everything will work out for me, I just have to be patient. While I wait for my life to sort it self out my siblings and I are planning a trip across Europe to coincide with the end of my service and my sister’s graduation from college. Our tentative route is: Barcelona, Nice, Milan, Munich, Prague, Vienna, Athens, and Istanbul. If you have any recommendations or tips for our grand european sojourn be sure to let one of us know!

Walking

The word andar in Spanish typically means to walk, but here in the D.R. it is mostly used to indicate someone has been traveling. You can imagine my confusion then, when I first arrived, and thought that certain people in my community were avid walkers, but I never saw them exercising. Recently, I have been andando mucho here are the highlights:

Surprise Birthday Party!

For my birthday I went whale-watching with friends; the whales were not too active but it didn't matter because I spent a day on the beach with friends, my community threw me a surprise party, and a bunch of friends sent me cards from America. Thanks for all the love guys!

Following my birthday I spent a few days in the capital discussing volunteer concerns with Peace Corps staff. I arrived back to my site in time for Carnival (the D.R.'s independence day celebrations).

Typical Carnival Costume

The next day I left with three members of my girls youth group to participate in a three-day conference. There were sessions on healthy foods, good relationships, AIDS, as well as, a talent show, and condom party. I was in charge of crafts, so we made friendship bracelets (Thanks, again, Kelly!).

Representing Samaná with Flow (Style)

After the conference I had a break for a few days and then I headed down to Paraíso (Paradise) located the southern part of the country. I didn't travel alone, with me was my friend Courtney, her cat Luna, and her dog Nelly. I had been pet sitting for Courtney for three months while she changed communities (she had security issues at her initial site). The journey took us 15 hours!  We left my home at 3:30 am but only after running around with flashlights looking for Luna after she escaped her pet carrier. The two of us plus Luna squeezed onto a motorcycle with a neighbor who drove us into town where we picked up Nelly and waited for the bus. Once on the bus Luna began to cry just like a baby. Only a cat is worse than a baby because most people, especially Dominicans on a bus at 4:30am, do not have any sympathy - I could feel the loathing of the other passengers. We were charged an extra ticket because of how annoying Luna acted.

We arrived in the capital at 8am and expected to be getting on another bus to the south at 10am. However, the driver of said bus decided not to make the trip that day and we ended up waiting until 2:30pm to continue our journey. Luna, apparently defeated, was quiet for the second leg of the trip. The silence made the views much more enjoyable. We arrived in Paraíso as the sun set, and went to in bed at 8:30pm.

A Tough Place to Live - Paraíso

The next day, Courtney and I walked 10 minutes to the beach that gives the town its name. Later we went to a different beach, San Rafael, where we met up with another volunteer from the region, Sara. I then traveled with Sara to her site, El Palmar. Like me, Sara lives in a campo (farming or countryside) community, but it couldn't be anymore different from my own. Where I have rolling hills covered in palm trees she has flat arid land covered with sugar cane. I live on a highway, Sara lives in a neighborhood with tree-lined sidewalks. My neighbors raise pigs, hers raise sheep. I am bitten up by black flies, while she has so many mosquitoes you can hear them buzzing around in packs (the blood-suckers gave Sara dengue fever - not fun). One thing that was the same between our two communities was the friendliness of the people. Everyone said hello, many gave me hugs and kisses, one man even gave me a beer.

Mountains on the Horizon

The journey back to my site was much less painful without the animals, and it only took nine hours. I was back in my site just long enough to chat with neighbors, hold some meetings, and wash laundry before I set off again. This week I am in the capital working on the volunteer magazine the Gringo Grita (Shouting American). Since I am in the capital, I will have internet and skyping capabilities all week. So, chat me up!