Sorry, It´s been awhile. This past week here has been full of various activities. Tuesday morning we went to the Mercado de Pulga which literally translates to the ¨market of flea¨. This was a stripmall shopper`s nightmare, but a rummage saler`s dream! Clothes (new and old), dishes, bath supplies, shoes galore, and more clothes. As you would find at any market, there were tables upon tables of unorganized piles of clothes. Most of the clothes come from donations 
given to Haiti. At the border, among other trading posts, the Haitians trade all the unused donated clothes for food, something they have very little of. Then the Dominicans bring the clothes to local markets and try to make some profit. So if you`re planning on sending Haiti more clothes, think again, perhaps peanut butter would do more good.
The market was a good time though. I bargained, found 3 good deals, got the cutest shirt the DR had to offer, and got hit on enough times to raise my self esteem for a few minutes. Many men here are just looking for a nice American girl to take them back to the state
s. That’s a whole other blog in itself!
On to Wednesday. Jon´s Doña, Elsa, works as a tecnico with the local district that sends other tecnicos out the Bateyes around El Seibo. Bateyes are small communities where sugar cane workers live. Most of these workers are Haitians who have fled to the DR to find work. Elsa helped our group plan a field trip out to the surrounding Bateyes for a brief look at a different lifestyle here in the DR. We headed out Wednesday morning and traveled to about 3 Bateyes. As Betsy said best, they reminded me of the homes built for southern plantation workers during the 1800´s there in the states. Many were copycat homes with a central bathing/washing area/stall. As long as someone, usually the padre, was working in the fields, the Boss would provide him with a home for the family. Each little community had an elementary school nearby, but if the kids wanted to go to high school they had to drive in to El Seibo. Only kids with ¨papers¨ are allowed to go to high school, so unfortunately many kids from these Bateyes will not receive an education higher than 8th grade.
As we passed through the Bateyes, either in our white van or on foot, people all around gathered to watch us go by, like kids watching a parade of firefighters. The feeling like being a circus clown or exotic animal never really leaves my side. But in our eyes, They were the exotic ones. A life so different, so simple, and so hard. Hours upon hours of work in the fields just to make enough to feed their families. So I may at one time live with them, but I will never have the life they live. As another volunteer wrote, I will never be `poor` for I have safety nets: people to count on, a government to support me, and a passport to take me home.
On a lighter note, the rest of my week was much brighter. I drank freshly made cherry juice, chatted for hours with locals, spoke with an Italian in Spanish and understood everything he said, and watched A Day Without Mexicans. Hug a Mexican por favor!
Time is just flying by, and soon I´ll be at my own site making things happen! (or at least trying)
given to Haiti. At the border, among other trading posts, the Haitians trade all the unused donated clothes for food, something they have very little of. Then the Dominicans bring the clothes to local markets and try to make some profit. So if you`re planning on sending Haiti more clothes, think again, perhaps peanut butter would do more good.The market was a good time though. I bargained, found 3 good deals, got the cutest shirt the DR had to offer, and got hit on enough times to raise my self esteem for a few minutes. Many men here are just looking for a nice American girl to take them back to the state
s. That’s a whole other blog in itself!On to Wednesday. Jon´s Doña, Elsa, works as a tecnico with the local district that sends other tecnicos out the Bateyes around El Seibo. Bateyes are small communities where sugar cane workers live. Most of these workers are Haitians who have fled to the DR to find work. Elsa helped our group plan a field trip out to the surrounding Bateyes for a brief look at a different lifestyle here in the DR. We headed out Wednesday morning and traveled to about 3 Bateyes. As Betsy said best, they reminded me of the homes built for southern plantation workers during the 1800´s there in the states. Many were copycat homes with a central bathing/washing area/stall. As long as someone, usually the padre, was working in the fields, the Boss would provide him with a home for the family. Each little community had an elementary school nearby, but if the kids wanted to go to high school they had to drive in to El Seibo. Only kids with ¨papers¨ are allowed to go to high school, so unfortunately many kids from these Bateyes will not receive an education higher than 8th grade.
As we passed through the Bateyes, either in our white van or on foot, people all around gathered to watch us go by, like kids watching a parade of firefighters. The feeling like being a circus clown or exotic animal never really leaves my side. But in our eyes, They were the exotic ones. A life so different, so simple, and so hard. Hours upon hours of work in the fields just to make enough to feed their families. So I may at one time live with them, but I will never have the life they live. As another volunteer wrote, I will never be `poor` for I have safety nets: people to count on, a government to support me, and a passport to take me home.
On a lighter note, the rest of my week was much brighter. I drank freshly made cherry juice, chatted for hours with locals, spoke with an Italian in Spanish and understood everything he said, and watched A Day Without Mexicans. Hug a Mexican por favor!
Time is just flying by, and soon I´ll be at my own site making things happen! (or at least trying)
