Wednesday, February 16, 2011

You know you're in America Latina when...

I think now would be a good time for me to say a few things about my actual internship. There are four DSTA projects in the Jarabacoa region where I am working: One art gallery/artisan store/art school, one waterfall excursion and two cabin projects. The waterfall project is one of my favorites. You would never guess that tucked into one of the ridges right above Jarabacoa, with a 20 minute hike straight down into a hidden canyon, you would find this beautiful waterfall surrounded by colorful boulders and swimming holes. I’ve made the trip down there four times already and every time I fall more in love with the place. The only issue is the hike back up, which qualifies as a Hike with a capital H because it is NOT easy.

The trail there is in a bit of disrepair and is going to need a lot of help if it’s going to be marketed to a wider audience (particularly Dominicans, who are notorious for their distaste of walking). It’s funny to think about the first time I visited the project. I spent the entire hike making suggestions and giving advice (“see, all you need to do is put some steps here, a handrail here, clean out the rocks there”). In my non-expert opinion the solutions seemed so obvious. In the past few weeks I have become familiar with the endless supply of hoops to jump through and walls to ram against before getting the OK to move a single branch off the trial (in case you actually want to know, there are two main obstacles: (1) the area is a national forest and even thought the community is registered as its conservation partner, the ministry of environment requires an absurd amount of paperwork only to keep everyone waiting around until they are willing to send a representative to supervise changes, (2) on top of that USAID regulations require that all materials be purchased either in the US or the DR – very limiting). So now, when I hear other foreigners making all those same suggestions as we hike down the trail, I just nod and smile and feel bad for whoever had to deal with me my first time around.

Getting some rainbow time in

Even though for the most part the Jimenoa leadership is an adult crowd, the project really depends on youth participation, as without the youth there wouldn’t be any guides for the trail. It is impressive to me that these kids are willing to invest so much in this project when the community really has very little to offer them. Besides some construction work and even less agricultural work, there is little to no employment or educational opportunities for youth in the community of El Salto. Most end up moving to the big cities and the community is left with what is called a “brain drain.” But the waterfall project has these kids coming out on their days off from work in the city to spend the entire day at the waterfall, even when some days there are no visitors. That is very impressive to me and part of why I enjoy working with this group.

Another part of the charm of this project is the way it exudes Dominican-ness. I have been working with the waterfall project the most because they have very little help with the administrative and organization component and there is a lot to work on. On one of the nights when we had planned to outline job descriptions I made the trip up to the community to find that the person with the keys to the school where we were going to meet had gone out of town without telling anyone, so we can’t get in. We postpone the workshop a few days. I come back. This time we have the key, but the power has gone out and there’s no electricity. Being americana I was determined to get some work done this time, so we scrounge up some candles and had everyone crowd around my notebook while someone held the candle over us. An hour later I get up to leave which causes everyone to protest, “but the baseball game is about to start!” It turns out the guides at the project have a baseball team called “the waterfall”, so we all walk out to the field to cheer. You’ve gotta love community-based eco-tourism when a project doesn’t even have a brochure, but they sponsor a baseball team. Now that’s promotion. I don’t know if this series of events is as amusing to other people as it was to me, but having grown up in Venezuela it just felt SO typical. So I sat in the stands (stands? pile of cement bricks?) with my coworkers cheering around me and laughed to myself thinking, “you know you’re in Latin America when…”

A pair of guides taking a break

The Salto de Jimenoa project brings to light several questions about development that have been running through my head lately. At the moment the DSTA/USAID is directing most of it’s funds for this project towards construction of a restaurant with the idea that it will diversify the products the community has to offer tourists, and create another source of income. Great idea USAID, that sounds awesome. However, I can’t get over the fact that what is being invested in is a business, and the organization doesn’t have a business plan. They don’t even have an operational manual. They’ve been getting a little support from other local organizations, but for the most part this community is expected to fill out USAID forms and have administrative capacities that are just not realistic in a community with a one-room schoolhouse that only teaches up to fourth grade. There is almost no investment in bringing capacity training to the project members and the community. What’s up with that? It seems like an enormous flaw from my point of view. I’ve had to sit down with the president a few times in her kitchen to try to figure out why their association registration papers aren’t being approved, when neither of us knows the first thing about law. I just don’t understand how these projects are expected to succeed without administrative training.

The other two projects I’ve been working with lately are both very impressive in their goals and vision for the community, even if they also lack the capacity training needed for a successful business. One of the cabin projects, Sonido del Yaque, is an eco-paradise - an environmentally sustainable hippie dream hidden in the mountains of the Dominican Republic. The project has six cabins, a restaurant and a conference room, all created under the leadership of a local women’s cooperative. Where before the community had no electricity and lived in poor health conditions, they have managed to bring electricity to everyone in the area by way of a hydroelectric system using power from the river. They also have a bio-digestor for wastewater treatment, greenhouses to grow food for the restaurant and they are working on a fishery next the river. But even though US funds have left the restaurant and cabins almost completed, there is still a big need to capacitate the community to be able to run the business. And the truth of the matter is that people are still struggling to have enough food to eat and very few kids are able to go to school past fourth grade. The other project is the art school – so much vision! The front portion of the building serves as a commerce center for local artists. The art gallery buys art from local artists and then sells it, providing a more steady income for said artists. Out of the back they run an art school. Many of the artists there remember having to shine shoes in the park when they were young, and they have made it their goal to give these kids scholarships so that they can take the art classes and develop a different source of income for their family and to support themselves to go to actual school. Talk about a creative business approach to a social issue. And yet the revenue aspect is missing and can use a lot of help.

A blossoming artist at work

The women's coop during a weekly meeting

In working with Jimenoa and the other projects I have become very aware of my role as an intern in the grand scheme of people and organizations that have come through and made promises to these communities. Especially in light of the recent AED suspension where for four months the projects received nothing, many of these projects are suffering morally and financially from the promises they were given that were not followed up on (AED is the organization that disperses USAID funding in development projects around the world and one of the main components of the DSTA. They recently had their USAID funds suspended while corruption was investigated in the projects in the afpak region). On one occasion in the past few weeks I was feeling frustrated that one of the projects was not being very responsive in answering my questions, and I was talking to someone associated with the DSTA about it, at which point they sat me down and said, “you have to understand, there is an ongoing pattern in these communities where they have been promised something by a foreign aid organization or entity, asked to put their energy and time behind it, and then left behind. You have to be sensitive that there are people that may not feel very excited to be promised more help.” Ever since I have been very careful to think twice before making any suggestions or offering any extra help – is what I’m saying or offering realistic? Or am I just adding another burden?

I leave you with this: Last night the power went out as it often does around here (se fue la luz!). But this time it happened in the middle of cooking dinner. I was still a little disoriented by the dark, so it was a surprise to me when my host mom came riding into the kitchen on the family motorcycle, shined the headlights toward the stove, and kept cooking dinner. I think that pretty much sums up the kind of creativity and flexibility you have to live in this part of the world.

Good morning Jarabacoa!

Friday, February 4, 2011

Jarabacoa! The view from the porch rocking chair.


It is said in the Dominican Republic that “God lives everywhere, but sleeps in Jarabacoa” (Dios vive en todas partes, pero duerme en Jarabacoa). This is where I’ll be for the next six weeks. Scenes from Jurassic Park where filmed at one of the projects I’m working with. Another project takes place in this completely sustainable village right outside of Jarabacoa, run by a women’s cooperative. There’s so much to say about the projects I’m working on, but I’m still in the figuring-it-out stage so I’ll leave that for another post.

Welcome to Jarabacoa!

More interesting: Daily life

Jarabacoa is one of the more developed towns in the central mountain region. It sits in a wide mountain basin surrounded by pine and fruit trees. Many travelers come this way for rafting and canyoning, but I wouldn’t call it touristy.

My host family:

The household dynamic is really interesting and took me a while to figure out. Antonia is the 30year-old matron of the house. She has a son (Omar, 14) and the cutest, sassiest 3 year-old I’ve ever met (Osmairy). Osmairy has a hard time pronouncing her ‘r’s, so Sarah became Sala, which turned into Salami. I call her jamón (ham), so now we’re Salami and Ham. In the house is also Antonia’s niece Eliana (22), but the two are so close in age that they’re really like best friends living together and raising Antonia’s kids. Then there’s Doña Ana, the grandmother. She’s a funny and sarcastic woman. Loves hugging. They are all incredibly beautiful.

My host sister Osmairy (right) and her friend being silly

Eliana’s husband lives in Nueba Yol (New York). He’s been there ever since Osmairy was born, and you can tell it really wears on the family. Osmairy gets really sad when the topic comes up. Dad calls every night and the phone gets passed around for everyone to chat. I talked to him once. He told me about the snow in Manhattan. It sounded like he was calling from a payphone. Antonia says she never wanted him to go, but a dollar in remittances can stretch far here, and it’s very difficult to find work in the DR. This definitely seems to be true. Antonia cleans vacation homes in the area, but not very often. Eliana doesn’t work and is waiting for her visa to come through so she can join her brothers in New York as well. It seems like this town is full of young people, and yet there is almost no work available to them within Jarabacoa.

Two relevant statistics from my pre-arrival homework: *1 in 5 Dominican families depends on money sent from family members in the US for 1/4th of their total income, *30% of the population is under 15 years of age, and only 4% is over 65.

My street

The daily routine: Basically just lost of sitting on the porch talking to all the family members that stop by. This is essentially what the weekend is. On weekdays I spend most of the morning and early afternoon out at the projects around town. Then I come home and play legos with Osmairy until 6pm, when Eliana and I go to the gym.

Aside: Oh man, the gym. The women work out on the 2nd floor and the men on the first. Although some women like to venture down to the bottom floor to “exercise their eyes.” The gym is a total ladies hang-out. The women exercise in gangs, all doing the same activities and chatting it up. Their kids run around underfoot and build forts with the aerobics step things, so you have to be careful not to step on any stray barbie dolls on your way to the stationary bike. But none of the machines have any power anyway so an aerobic workout is not really available. Except under the direction of Jonathan, the flamboyantly gay instructor. This my favorite part. Jonathan leads the women in a workout that involves a lot of him yelling and the women sassing back and then everyone breaking out in merengue moves when they don't feel like doing it anymore. It reminds me of the I Love Lucy episode where tries to learn ballet but just starts doing the Charleston Jonathan likes to look up Shakira videos during breaks and can imitate her to the tee. Even though from my perspective his shouting promotes a negative body image, the women love him because he makes them feel accomplished.

Anyway, I really enjoy going to the gym with Eliana because she gives me the scoop on the neighborhood as well as her views on life (real cool, grounded girl). After that I sit on the porch doing alphabet soup puzzles with Doña Ana while Antonia and Eliana chat with people walking by. This lasts until 10pm when the telenovela comes on. Not to be missed. Five sexy adopted cowboy brothers engage in complicated love triangles that seem to involve lots of getting in car accidents out of vengeance. I’m totally hooked. All in all it’s the good life.

The house is very nice and in the middle of town, but it’s still pretty basic. Running water comes out of the kitchen sink and toilet, and only at certain times of the day (although in the tropics bucket showers are actually really great). There are just 3 bedrooms for all six of us, so I feel really bad that they’ve given me the master bedroom all to myself. But it seems very important to them to feel like they’re treating me special. Which brings me to food, and The Breakthrough. This is the classic study-abroad-host-family story. For the first few days Antonia would call me in to the kitchen and I would just gawk. So much food! Why hasn’t the rest of the family joined me at the table? Why is there a full plate of mashed plantains, and an enormous mound of rice, probably half a chicken, plus soup all for just me? I felt terrible because I couldn’t understand how on earth they thought I could eat four times more than they did. I also felt guilty not finishing my plate because I knew they didn’t have much for me to be wasting it. For two days I would sit down for a meal and almost start to cry – trying to stuff an entire yucca root in your mouth is rib splitting. The starch sticks to your stomach and can keep you full all day. After every meal I would praise the food to Antonia and try to bring across the quantity issue. But it wasn’t until the third day that I finally caught on. “I’m sorry to leave so much food, Antonia. I just get full so quickly.” “Oh no, I know. I just don’t know what you like to eat so I bring you lots of options.” Aha moment! So THAT’S why they always gave me an extra plate to dish myself with. It also helped when I realized that the reason the fridge is so empty is because they store most of their food in the oven (still figuring that part out). That aside, Antonia is an incredible cook.

A final note on CARNIVAL. This region of the country is well known for carnival culture. Every Sunday of February there is a parade in Jarabacoa with incredible masks and costumes, followed by a party in the park. People around town form carnival crews and dress up together to terrorize the streets in costume. When you go to the park in the evening you can hear each crew’s personalized reggaeton anthem, and maybe meet their mascots (the Las Culebras carnival crew has giant snakes that they let slither around). This goes again to show, Jarabacoa has SO MANY young people. More on carnival to come.


El Gran Salto Jimenoa I - one of the project sites


The view from the valley right above another project site