Rats, Hopscotch, and Lyrics

I live in the Dominican Republic. For you that may create a picture of some beautiful tropical island and cute children by my side. To me, that means that I live in a house with eighteen loud people yelling all the time in another language for no particular reason. When I arrived they tried to explain to me that they were merely talking and not upset. Now that I understand what they are saying and not just the tone, I realize that for the most part, that’s true. They are great people, just not real aware of noise volumes. However, Tuesday morning I woke up to more chaos than normal. When I made it to the kitchen I found a bucket in front of the sink, the stove pulled out from the wall, and our dad sticking a broom behind the cabinets. The rats were back. The excitement didn’t die down until we had left for worship in the church. After school I heard rumors that one of the rats had been taken care of. I am assuming it was the one that used to visit our room at night because our things have stopped jumping off the shelves in the middle of the night. It’s somewhat of a relief considering I sleep on the floor.

Since the last time I wrote, the weather has really changed. Our supposed rainy season lasted for five days and then moved on. Thank goodness. During those five days we were stuck inside for hours hoping the sky would clear. Music lessons were cancelled, church and canchas postponed, and no one dared walk outside without an umbrella. I’ve heard various excuses of why ranging from pretty hair, to sicknesses you can get from the rain. I’m really not sure myself. I sat on the couch with the girls learning everything from their favorite color, to favorite food, to favorite country to visit. You can learn a lot about a person during a five day rainy spell. Now the rain is gone. Instead the air is thick and hot and we sit inside for the opposite reason. I’m afraid the grass will always be greener on the other side.

I’ve determined to start exercising. It’s always one of those notable goals I carry in the back of my head and only accomplish on the most boring of days. Ironically, I am writing this letter during the exercise slot in my day. :) However, for the most part, at least this last week, I have been much more successful. You may find it entertaining to know exactly what a successful cardiovascular workout amounts to. I am afraid that with the heat and especially the direct sunlight, I gave up running after 2 ½ weeks. Now, I turn on my iPod, put on my tennies and begin my multiple patterns of hop scotching across my tiled floor. It doesn’t sound like much but twenty minutes of tile jumping can really be a work out. You should try it. If you figure out any interesting patterns let me know. :)

I can’t believe that I barely have a month left here. In some ways it has been a really long year. I feel like I’ve known these people forever and lived here for half my life. But at the same time, there is no way that I am already nearing the end. I received a letter last week that I wrote to myself before I left almost a year ago. At the time that I wrote the letter, I had spoken random Spanish phrases with humorous grammar. I had decided to write myself in Spanish so that I could appreciate how much I improved in just 1 year. I couldn’t help but laugh as I read the phrases that had been so painfully hard to put together. It was a good reminder to realize where I had started. Even if I get after myself for stuttering every once in awhile in class, the fact that I can impromptu my lesson plan in another language is a huge improvement. Well, the tile jumping is calling my name and not much else has been happening here. But I hope everyone else is taking advantage of their last few weeks of the school year. I miss you all. In the chance that I don’t know you and you just happened to stumble across this page, I wish you the best as well. I’ll leave you all with these lyrics from one of my favorite songs. It’s a Brandon Moore song titled “Selfish Me.”

And I know that I can’t serve both you and me.
And I know a house divided cannot stand.
And it’s time to stop pretending I can do it on my own.
It’s time to give you everything I am.
So I’m laying down my life. Picking up your cross,
Taking all this gain and counting it as loss.
In a world of false I’m finding it so true.
Sometimes I’ve got to let go of me so I can hold onto you.

Pictures: My 8th grade class treasure hunt, Yessica during the family Olympics, All of my sisters, Me and Cessarina (9th grade).

A blustery bloggish sort of day

So I’ve been warned that the rainy season is coming. I’m slightly confused because we already had storm season from august to November, rainy season from December to February, and apparently it’s back again. Well, March was nice while it lasted. :-) Oh well. The rain is kind of nice. It makes a cup of tea more enjoyable, drinking it hot doesn’t leave me feeling very well when it’s 90 degrees out. And I’ve missed cozying up in a sweatshirt. So, at least this first day of rainy season, I’m enjoying myself. The thunder is one of my new favorite sounds and lightning helps in the evenings when the power is out. :-) Otherwise, life has been pretty normal.

I tend to go through phases and I’ve been through the studying Spanish phase, the exercise phase, the journaling phase, the visiting phase, and recently I’ve found myself in a want-to-play-sports phase. Unfortunately that is not a feminine role here. Women can do pretty much whatever they want that the men do. They can drive their motorcycle through town -- with HIGH heels of course, and they can follow their career dreams. But sports, that’s just weird to them. The girls wouldn’t care to play anyways; in fact I recently learned that flying a kite as a girl makes me quite strange here. Who would have guessed? Anyways, this last week I showed up at the end of a baseball practice and finally convinced them to pitch a few at me promising them I wouldn’t be upset if they hit me with the ball. The look on their face when the bat I was holding actually connected with the ball was priceless. After an adequate number to convince them I wouldn’t embarrass them, they invited me to the game on Sunday. Yay. Who knows if I’ll get to play, but at least I finally have a chance.

I’ve also started to pick up basic French phrases from my roommate Nathalie. For a long time she has been trying to convince me to learn. It’s not that I don’t want to, but English and Spanish has been enough to keep me busy up until this point. But I agreed back in October that when I was fluent in Spanish at Spring break (haha..optimistic thinking) I would gladly learn her French as well. So Spring break has come and gone and now I willingly say funny words like "comment ca va." (how are you?).

Life has been good. My kids now tell me jokes and play on words in Spanish and I enjoy their company. The May 12 deadline seems so far away when I think of how I still miss my family. But knowing that the day I get on that plane I will most likely never live here again, it is coming up way to fast. We’ve finally established ourselves here. The shop at the end of the street knows that I either want a phone card, pear juice, chocolate, or muffin. The girls are my sisters, and the students, those are my kids. I can now zone out during a sermon and still catch most of the topic. I teach high school juniors and seniors as well as my 5th-8th graders and sometimes it’s weird to realize I’ve already and only been out of high school for 2 years all at the same time. I’m a high school teacher not a high school student. I’ve survived in the adult world for almost a year and I think it would be even easier in my original language as an actual adult instead of in this crazy middle role. It will be nice to go back to student life for awhile. And then eventually I’ll be pushed back into this adult craziness, but at least I got a test drive. Those are just a few thoughts I’ve been bouncing back and forth on this blustery melancholy day.

I’ll leave you with my dear Ciro’s joke from English class yesterday. It’s better in Spanish, but here you are enjoy.

I’ve been teaching: what time is it? It is..., etc. One of the terms in Spanish is media which is used for a half hour. So the following sentence: Son las diez y media means it is ten thirty. Many times while I am teaching I’ll use a word I remember from Spanish class just to find that they don’t use that word here. They’ll recognize it enough to correct me because of the context, but I have to learn the new word instead. As I was teaching time, I asked Ciro, "How do you say media in English?" I suppose at this point it is important for you to know that media here also means sock. So that funny little kid that he is said, "Well teacher I think you mean thirty, but here we don’t say media, we say zapato [shoe]." I apologized and repeated the question, "Ciro, how do you say zapato in English?" At that point the play on words caught up with me and we all had a good laugh. Oh well, I’m pretty sure that thanks to Ciro, we will never forget how to say “It is ten thirty” in English. :-)

God bless. Have a great day!