The Day the Music Stopped

April 4, this young man, by the name of Negro (which actually means "Sweet Heart" in the Dominican Republic) came to my house. He drilled some holes so that I could hang the curtains my neighbor made for me, and I paid him 200 pesos.

Saturday, April 6, this  man was electrocuted while on the job not far away, and he died instantly, falling from his ladder.

The shrieking of some women in the barrio alerted me to the fact that something was dreadfully wrong. Neighbors told me that a young man had died of a work related accident (only later did I learn his identity). Then throngs of people began arriving. The Colmados all shut down the music during a very somber and moving weekend.

Negro was a very much loved and respected grandson (his mother died several years ago), nephew, and brother to many people living all around me. He was known for being an honorable and humble person, a good worker, and a considerate friend.  

The community has been united by grief in a way I've never experienced before, except when I was living in New Orleans. This death was personal for me because of having only had a connection with this man two days previous to his death.  Also, I just posted photos in my previous blog update featuring a young man high on a ladder connecting electrical power lines.

Along with so many others this past weekend, I felt overcome with the terrible sadness regarding the dangers young men in a third world country are exposed to constantly, just trying to make a living.

A new friend, who means well (although she is biased due to being financially well off) said young men are killed because people don't pay the power company to do electrical work and go around the system. She added that men do the work without having the proper equipment or training.

Little did she know that I am a participant in this underground economy as well, since I just went along with what my neighbors told me to do, side stepped the electric company and hired men who hooked me up to an electrical source. On the other hand, what's a person to do? The electricity company here in this country is notoriously inefficient, costly and slow. What a dilemma.

Thank you, Negro,  for being the person you were for so many who knew and loved you. You were always giving of yourself to others. You are missed terribly. You are remembered always.

Here's my neighbor, Elpidia, in front of the curtains she made. She brought Negro to my house to help us hang the curtains. She knows everyone in the neighborhood, and is a big help to me in so many ways.

The curtains look great in the living room.  A big "Thank You" is due Elpidia and Negro for their contribution to living aesthetically well in a Barrio.

While on the subject of aesthetics, thought I'd mention that we actually do have garbage service in this country. Except that no one ever knows when the garbage truck arrives. Every few weeks  people on the street start yelling, "basura," "basura" and then all of us rush outside with the stuff we've been collecting for pick-up. Otherwise most garbage finds its way to the side of the roads, where residents burn it. Cinders of ash show up regularly on my front porch from these fires.

These are some of the children in the neighborhood after an afternoon of blowing up balloons and making dogs, rabbits, parrots on rings, and snails with them. These balloons (or vehigas, in Spanish) are a big hit. I've continued my project of photographing children, having the photos printed and then delivering copies to their parents. The following are a photos of some individual children.

This woman is the niece of my neighbor across the street. She's posing with her baby and two elephants made with vehigas. We're sitting on the neighbor's roof.

 

This woman, Francesca, is a Medical Doctor as well as a mother to two children, a 7 year old and a 10 month-old baby, pictured here. An Obstetrician-Gynecologist, she has delivered a number of the children who live on my street as well as hers, which is the next street over. 

She and her children came over for dinner Saturday night. I served them spinach salad with lasagne, not the usual Dominican fare, yet they seemed to enjoy themselves. 

We were able to talk about friends Francesca has in the United States. Her husband is away for a year in Mexico as he is in the tourism industry (and speaks English, German, French and Spanish fluently). Francesca commented how lonely and hard this year has been while her husband is away.

I wanted to post some photos of the carritos, or publico carros as they are alternatively known. One of the most satisfying aspects of living in this country has been the conviviality of the people I meet while traveling through the city for 20 pesos in one of these beat up old toyotas. The drivers are usually very hospitable and the other passengers eager to converse and provide assistance. I've been able to get almost anywhere I want to go in one of these cars.

The driver of this carrito was reading about a car crash while waiting for a red light to change. Glad to report that I've never been involved in any incident while traveling in Santo Domingo traffic. It's quite a snarly situation, however, and I'm always on the alert for accidents around me.

In contrast to the streets of Santo Domingo is the city's squeaky clean Metro system.

This is the Metro Centro Olímpico Juan Pablo Duarte, near the stadium where I viewed the Cirque du Soleil. Also, I enjoyed the Marc Anthony and Romeo Santos performances here. The Dominican Republic's Quisqueya Baseball Stadium is nearby as well.

 Pictured below is the Metro Station closest to my barrio:

Of course, all of the Metro cars are filled with lively, fun-loving Dominicans. So I usually have a really good time on the Metro too. People are generally very respectful here of mature women, and I always have a seat offered to me, even in the middle of rush hour.

The other day I said to the man who gave me his seat "Pero, tu tienes pelo gris tambien" (but you have grey hair too). Everyone on the car started laughing good-naturedly.

I am always impressed with the kindness of the metro travelers when blind or disabled people come aboard. People jump out of their way to help and seem to genuinely care about how these travelers are faring. This seems such a contrast to me of the experience I've had so often in the United States on Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART), for example, in which disabled people were mostly regarded as "getting in the way" or "slowing things down."

It's the feeling I always have that people here seem to genuinely care about how others are doing that makes it possible to tolerate a lot of the problems of being in a poor country and yet be really happy.

I  feel lonely sometimes, since I don't know many people to speak in my own language.  I am frustrated too, while learning Spanish.

Yet a lot of the time I am really happy, just because people around me are always available in ways that they aren't in the United States. I know my neighbors, and I talk to people on public transportation. There are a few friends who welcome me anytime I want to drop by for lunch. People I enjoy are happy to come to my house for dinner. What a difference these simple connections make!

Speaking of knowing the neighbors, this is the man who operates our local colmado, a most amiable gentleman. I run into all of my neighbors at the colmado, where the most amazing variety of items are available at all hours of the day, many in very small and inexpensive packages.

These neighbors, who live around the corner, were husking coconuts when I took this photo. It was only minutes later that I heard the first shrieks of one of the women relatives of the man killed by electricity.

 

Cynthia and Ricardo Cowgill came down from Dajabon for the week and we had dinner in Gascue together. What a delight to meet with these dear friends and catch up some. They have been with Peace Corps a year and just celebrated with their cohort. They've built a lot of latrines and stoves, as well as run reading groups for youth in their community.  We always have a terrific time and I am looking forward to getting together with them in Dajabon soon!

For the past month I've been teaching English every week at the Hogar Mercedes Amiama, on Gustavo Mejía Ricart in Santo Domingo. I go with other women from the International Women's Club. It's been a delightful way for me to widen my social network here, and hopefully contribute to the youth in this country.

These two adolescent girls, both who actually speak some English,  are among my students. I am looking for ways to contribute more, and feel that by building my Spanish skills and meeting people I will come across work I'm interested in pursuing.

 This past weekend I attended a service of the Bahá'í Faith near the Colonial Zone, in Santo Domingo. I have known different people active in the Bahá'í organization over the years, and always found them to be kindly. My friend from the International Women's Club introduced me to the Bahá'í Community here. I was happily surprised to find there is quite a large group of participants in Santo Domingo.

Several people in the group gave me their phone numbers, and I went with three others to help lead a youth group they run every Sunday. I even led a dynamica at this group! Other opportunities for volunteer work are available through this organization. And I met a woman who used to work for Peace Corps, but presently works for an organization developing Dominican and Haitian relationships. She had a lot of encouragement to offer me.

I am not sure if I am a Bahá'í person myself, not being a person to join religions. Yet I found the ashram like setting quite comforting. Having spent so much of my life involved with Indian spiritual communities (in the San Francisco Bay area), I felt more at home there then I feel in a Catholic church. I find it refreshing that Bahá'is don't believe that Christ was the one and only teacher and think that others, like Buddha, are also important spiritual leaders. We'll see what happens.

These last two photos are of friends that invited me to Sunday almuerzo, after which we all went to Villa Mella's Carnaval event, held Sunday in the middle of March. I enjoyed the opportunity to hang out with these fine fellows, their mother and aunt. Also, I finally saw and heard the famous Los Congos de Villa Mella, as they paraded down our main street.

Los Congos is comprised mostly of members from a fraternity called the Brotherhood of the Holy Spirit, which is said to have been founded in the 16th century by African slaves and people of mixed origin.  Its members associate the Holy Spirit with percussion instruments. Like other Afro-Caribbean forms of Santeria in Haiti, Cuba, and Puerto Rico, these practices were originally the slaves' way of maintaining African religious traditions while ostensibly practicing the Catholicism forced onto them by the Europeans.

I don't have photos of Los Congos to post here, however there are some good video clips on YouTube. Anthony Bourdain featured Los Congos de Villa Mella in his tour program of the Dominican Republic.

I continue to volunteer at the Hogar Renacer, yet feel I won't stay there much longer. Also, friends are coming to visit mid April and I am very, very excited about their two week visit. Almost all of my focus in the past few months has been preparing my home so that it is comfortable, both for myself and for my visitors. We plan to travel all around the country. I have been holed up here in Santo Domingo so much lately that I am just thrilled about getting out of here.

Next blog update will be full of photos of travels! First we'll head to Cabarete, and the Samana peninsula. Then we plan to go to Barahona, and Lago Enriquillo. If there's time we hope to spend a few nights in Jarabacoa. We'll be staying in all of the hotels that charge $20-$30 night and taking guaguas all the way. Local transportation here in the Dominican Republic can't be beat for affordability and amiability. You already know how I feel about that! I'll write again in May.