JAMAICA

One month ago, I assumed responsibility for the Jamaica portfolio and my workload and stress level increased exponentially.  I landed in Jamaica Sunday to start a two-week long temporary duty trip and am liking it so far.  I actually think I like it better than the Dominican Republic but definitely not as much as Barbados.

Although I have tons of work today, I have managed to enjoy walking around Emancipation Park, looking at the beautiful moutains, walking to Scotchies for fish cooked over pimiento(?) wood, eating Doubles and vegetarian patties from New Leaf restaurant, watching t.v., and having someone else wash and twist my hair.

I find myself comparing Kingston to Santo Domingo, but on my husband's urging I am committed to returning home to Santo Domingo in as just a happy state as when I left home.  I have orders from my dear hubby to bring back jerk sauce and fish and my daughter keeps asking me, "Mom, what did you get me?"

My mom is visiting this weekend and hopefully we'll be able to visit some touristy spots together.

  

'Tis the Season to Mendigar??

I remember my boss telling me last year that a couple of garbage collectors knocked on his door around Christmas time last year to "say Merry Christmas" and basically ask for money.  I thought it was an isolated incident.  I was here last Christmas too, but I didn't experience any of that.

So last week when I saw one of the newspaper delivery guys, (hired by the newspaper) to leave newspapers at the gates of housing compounds throughout the city, being escorted by the watchman to all of my neighbors' homes...I was a bit taken aback.  Dear Hubby gave the delivery man money and I really had a problem with it. 

Yesterday as we stopped to pay the toll on the road toward the airport, the public employee at the toll booth reminded my husband that it is Christmas (although it wasn't because yesterday was December 30th) because he wanted money.  And of course, my husband gave him extra. 

I think it is pretty bold and inappropriate to walk around demanding extra money from people that you serve [as part of your paid employment] because it is Christmas time. 

Today, during our short outing with the kiddoes, we were asked by 3 or 4 different people for money.  People that I don't think are typically begging for money any other time of the year - but perhaps, feel like 'tis the season for people to open their pockets/purses. 

And to this, I say the problem is a reflection of the temporary feeling by many in the greater society (both here in the DR and in my own beloved country) of generosity, compassion, love, and kindness that surfaces in December and retreats in January. It is true that no false sense of entitlement to other people's money is acceptable,
but it is also true that there are people in need 365 days a year and

it is definitely true that there are "invisible" people such as garbage collectors, newspaper delivery guys, and street sweepers that help make our lives comfortable and earn very little who rarely experience an expression of gratitude.

And so, I am grateful for the reminder to show appreciation to all those "invisible" people that contribute to my quality of life throughout the year.








Y

We're Going to ZAMBIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I was sooooooooooooooo excited!!!  But the reality of what that means hit me and although I'm still excited, the excitement has been tempered a bit as I begin to plan for the impending move, answer questionnaires that will influence our living conditions for 4 years, and research everything from schools to right-hand drive vehicles to using 220v electronics.

The impending move is 6-7 months away, but from what I've read and heard about Lusaka, Zambia I feel very fortunate that our family will move there. 

Based on what I've learned about our future home so far, I'm looking forward to:

• Weather that is a bit more variable than the Dominican  Republic's since hot weather is not exactly my cup of tea.  The average highs in Lusaka from January - August range from 73 - 79 degrees and the average lows range from 48 to 53 degrees and the hottest month is October with average highs of 88 degrees.
• Being able to walk outside without being overly concerned about violent crime.  As in all places in the world, crime exists but to my knowledge the threat level is nowhere near that experienced here in Santo Domingo.
• Living in a different kind of city.  I currently live in a very big city and all the ugliness that comes with that, including heavy traffic, high crime rates, and about as much hustle and bustle as exists in the DC metro area.  One perk of living overseas for me has always been living in an environment with a slower pace.  Apparently Lusaka is a capital city without all the big city advantages and disadvantages.
• Shopping for produce at markets and not U.S.-style grocery stores and buying fresh organic veggies from Sugar Bush farm!!!!  One of the greatest disappointments about Santo Domingo was the fact that outdoor markets are barely in existence here.  The one market that some Dominicans go to has vendors with attitudes that don't want to bargain at all and prices that are higher than the supermarkets. 
• Wildlife!  [I hope] We'll see lions, hippos, gazelles, elephants, rhinos, and zebras that aren't in zoos while we're there.  
• Victoria Falls - one of the Seven Wonders of the World, of course.

Voluntoldism and Becoming More Social

I've been in Santo Domingo for 16 months now and have pretty much kept to myself and my family on the weekends. I don't think I'm antisocial by nature; however, I feel really awkward and uncomfortable in big groups of people that I don't know. So in general, I don't go to happy hours, dinner club parties, or anything else that involves the wider community. I have only been "invited" to one Ambassador event during my tour but I was out of the country and I've attended 3 community-wide events during the past 16 months: The Holiday Party at the Ambassador's Residence last December, the Health Fair, and the Green Festival. I didn't even feel like waiting around for hours with cranky children to take a picture with the Secretary of State last month when she was here visiting. And I've only had people over for dinner three times - and that is primarily because my chef-like husband loves cooking for company.

Well last month was bidding season for me and in one of my conversations with a Mission where I really hope to go, I learned that the inter-agency community is close-knit and people are always getting together in the evenings and on the weekends. The community is also a bit smaller than the DR's mission and the city doesn't have nearly as many independent entertainment options as Santo Domingo.

So after talking to someone from my mission of choice, I told myself and my husband that I'm going to have to do better, drink a cup of courage and start participating in more activities and socializing with people more often. I hadn't decided on when, but I was thinking some time between January and August 2012. I was on the fence about practicing here in Santo Domingo or waiting until we move to our new country and starting anew there.

Well, thanks to the Foreign Service's overseas voluntoldism policy and God hearing my "cry", a couple of opportunities were presented to me within the last couple of weeks.

First, I received a phone call about from an unknown (to me) woman that went like this:
Woman: Hi, Ayana?
Me: Yes, this is Ayana
Woman: Hi, I'm AJ and MW told me you'd be interested in being a cocktail model for the Green Fashion Show in a couple of weeks.
Me: Noooooo, hmm...I think maybe MW got mixed up because I wrote to the CLO and told her that my SON could be in the fashion show if you guys needed male models.


*side note* I know I was wrong for that, but I DID volunteer my teenager after checking with him because I felt like he could take up my socializing slack since he's so confident. I had recently entered him in the tennis tournament too. So I was socializing by proxy.

Woman: Oh yeah, well we've had a few people volunteer their spouses and if we need male models I'll include him. But really - MW said you'd be a great cocktail model. You don't have to walk on the runway. She said you'd be great for this role because we need someone who smiles alot and who will walk up to the guests and tell them about the dress you're wearing and the designer that'll design the dress.
Me: oh okay, sure.
Woman: GREAT! There's a meeting tomorrow and hopefully you can make it.

Now, I DO smile alot and I'm sure that is why MW, my Mission Director's WIFE, gave my phone number out and suggested me; however, what she DOESN'T know is that it is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HARRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDD for me to walk up to perfect strangers and start talking to them. But, what's a first tour officer who never participates in anything to do? Accept the challenge! So I did and below are some pictures of me being a cocktail model and wearing green superhero makeup to support my Country.

This is why I was NOT voluntold or asked to be a runway model apparently.

Designer of my dress - Ines de Sanctis

Getting dressed in my upcycled outfit from upholstery fabric and curtains-turned-dress.

In the end, I enjoyed myself, met some new people (although a couple of folks asked if I'd just joined the mission a couple of months ago), and felt good about contributing to something for the greater good.


In the same week, I was on email message sent to a handful of people from my agency inviting us to hear remarks from the US Attorney General and take a group picture.  Although my initial reaction was "no way ", I was glad I went.

On the subject of BATHROOMS

In my home these days, 'tis the season for contemplating how life will inevitably change for my family next summer when we relocate to "who knows where". As such, yesterday Dear Hubby and I were pontificating about potential housing at the next post when the subject of bathrooms came up.

I mentioned that, "it's totally possible that we won't have as many bathrooms in our house next time" based on the pictures I've seen of some houses in different countries that are on my list.

Now according to Dear Hubby, he needs to to have his own bathroom to ensure complete privacy and the ability to spend endless amounts of time without being bothered by our Dear Children.

And as for me, I don't want to share a bathroom with Dear Hubby, my oldest son, or my youngest son.

Our conversation about how many bathrooms we need got me to thinking about just how spoiled we've become in less than 18 months. You see - I grew up in a home with four females and one tiny bathroom and somehow we did just fine with what we had. Dear Hubby grew up in a rural, lesser developed area and had one bathroom too to share with three siblings and two parents.

In 2005, I stayed with a host family in Xela, Guatemala and had to leave the bedroom, physically walk outside (and past a dog and for those that know me that was scary), through a door and into a standalone bathroom, flip a switch and pray the "hot" water would at least reach 60 degrees.

In 2006, I lived in a house in Lasso, Ecuador that required me to leave the room, walk outside and across a wooden board covering a "river" or drainage ditch to get to the other side of the yard and use a standalone bathroom. In that same year, I lived in Salcedo, Ecuador and although I had moved up in the world, I still had to walk outside to get into my bathroom that was attached to the outside of the kitchen. AND to top it all off, water was only available from 7 a.m. - 7 p.m. so taking a late night shower or flushing the toilet in the wee hours of the night was just not possible.

Fast forward to recent years and "upscale" Fairfax County, VA living - Dear Hubby, my three children, and I shared a townhouse with 1.5 bathrooms and again - we made it just fine.

But NOWWWWW we've had a taste of the good life for a full 16 months with a bathroom in all four bedrooms, a half-bath under the stairs, and a full bath outside the pool area (don't get excited - we covered the pool) and we almost completely lost our minds and our sense of grounded reality because we just can't fathom living in a home with only 3, or even worse - 2 bathrooms.

So this post is a reminder to me to (1)remain appreciative, (2)stay grounded, and (3)keep it together as I move on, up, and around in the world.

Child-friendly Society

One of the great things about living in the Dominincan Republic is the fact that children are welcome pretty much everywhere. This is so different from the U.S. where people look at you like you're crazy upon entering many sit-down restaurants with children. And if your children laugh just a little too loud or have a meltdown then everyone (employees and patrons) turns around and glares at you with that "Well, I never" look. So basically, many parents make the decision to just not go out at all or hardly at all for the first 4 years or so. Well luckily for our family, that's not the case in Santo Domingo. We can go to nice restaurants, ballets, and even the movies without worrying about feeling out of place. One time we went to a nice restaurant on a Saturday night and the kids were restless while waiting on the food to come. K. Amiri was banging his knife and fork on the plates (and we were constantly trying to shush him), so two different waitresses came by to give the kids balloons and a face mask so they could play with something more age-appropriate and less annoying. Last weekend Z. Mulenga and N. David and I went to a modern dance performance at the Palacio de Bellas Artes and a little boy started crying while and saying "yo tengo miedo" (I am scared) over and over again while a masked performer was on stage. As his mother stood up and walked the long walk from the front row to the back of the theatre to leave, the audience just laughed - no dirty looks. Dear hubby and I were even at the movies one night watching something for adults and a couple walked in with their young children who weren't the quietest and no one complained (no one but me secretly because frankly I don't think kids should be watching adult movies with adults at 9 p.m.). So although I do think there should be limits on where children are allowed, the child-friendly culture here in the DR is a welcome change.

On my soap box about women's rights

Something has been bothering me for a few months - the push for c-sections in Santo Domingo and the scare tactics used by these obstetricians and the impact this is having on the Dominican culture surrounding pregnancy, birth, and postpartum periods(at least in my eyes). Santo Domingo is very similar to many other U.S. cities and is also similar to the U.S. in the fact that the rate of birth by cesarean is unconscionably high. As an aside, the country also has the lowest breastfeeding rate in all of the Americas with only 8% of mothers providing breastmilk as the main source of nourishment for the first six months.

Why is this issue tugging on my heart now? Because in the past few months, I think every locally engaged staff member who gave birth plus every friend of a locally engaged staff member who gave birth did so by c-section. I'm upset because I've listened to the conversations of these educated women in this society talk about how they can't have a vaginal birth if the baby is too big although the pelvis opens up 33% wider than usual and really only about 3% of women truly have a condition that prevents babies from making it through the birth canal, or if they are 40 weeks or approaching 40 weeks then the doctor is ready to schedule surgery, and how they found a doctor that supports vaginal births (yet the same doctor makes other statements that indicate otherwise).

It is disheartening to hear these women talk like they don't have a choice at all or worse, to try and encourage a woman who actually fought for her right to choose a vaginal birth!!

I mean how can an experienced OB explain to a woman that if she doesn't start labor by day X then they will skip the pitocin and induction and just schedule major surgery?!?? And not for someone with a high risk pregnancy?!? How can the same OB (supposed last of the OBs that still support vaginal births in the capital) schedule a c-section for a woman days prior to the due date only because that woman got anxious and grew tired of waiting??? Where is the professional integrity? Doesn't anyone care that healing from surgery AND trying to take care of a newborn baby is not the ideal way to enter the postpartum period?

To say that I'm disgusted by this birth culture is an understatement. Not only are women having c-sections more often than not, but there is also this unspoken pressure to look pretty at all times...so much so that some O.B. practices have on-site hairstyling services where a woman can have her hair done DURING or immediately after delivery. And in this same upper middle income country, a disproportionate amount of infants are malnourished, in part due to a very low breastfeeding rate - even for mothers that are poor and cannot afford to provide the amount of formula necessary to adequately feed their babies.

In my non-qualified, non-scientific opinion, the choice not to breastfeed, elective c-sections (elected by the patient or doctor), and physical beauty above all else (including healing) are all indicative of a culture that undervalues women's (and by extension their babies) rights to adequate healthcare and to make informed, educated choices about their bodies.

Where in the World Should We Go Next?

I know I've had to make major decisions that will impact my life and the lives of my family members before, but for some reason I feel so nervous about the decision facing me now. In about one week, I need to rank order the positions I hope to occupy next year and in essence I will be rank ordering the places I want to live next year. Deciding on where to live for the next four years means that I will essentially define the school options for my three children, the professional development and employment opportunities for my husband, and the quality of life for all of us. Last week I found myself half-wishing that the agency would just give me a flag and direct me to my new home.

One year ago when I thought I knew what my options would be, I was so sure that Kenya was the best place for all of us and I spent so much time doing research and convincing dear hubby and my teenager that it would be a great place for us. I even visited Nairobi in June for a couple of days to get a feel for the place and visit the school and I was even more excited about the possibility of moving there next year. But then the list came out and a place I never dreamed would come up for me appeared on the list along with an invitation to consider a place that I had mentally dismissed because of malaria.

So now I'm just confused!!

Kenya is still so attractive for many reasons (no need for anti-malarial drugs in the capital, great schools, good weather, lots of activities, friendly people, good housing, the list goes on and on) and it's the top choice for my hubby and eldest son; however, I'm worried about the high crime and Somalians and stories like this are not helping me feel better.

But now the Southern African nation of Zambia is appealing too and a bit slower-paced. There, too, we would have great weather, a moderate amount of stuff to do, low malaria risk in Lusaka, and friendly people, but there is also LESS CRIME and I haven't heard of any terrorist threats. BUT, it's more expensive and I've heard the high school doesn't compare to the schools in Nairobi.

Or What about the West African nation of Ghana? Rich in culture, enough activities to keep the whole family busy, a supervisor that I already know and like, great seafood options, beaches nearby, safe community but HOTTER THAN THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC with a very real malaria threat and an o.k. American-style high school.

Knowing that my family will face some level of risk no matter where we go is probably the heaviest weight on my shoulders. I've had a couple of people tell me that in this business, your decisions come down to you "picking your poison" since no place will be perfect. My only prayer is that we move to the place where all of my family members will thrive, where I'll be able to positively impact the lives of people that are less fortunate than me, and where my children and hubby can feel safe, happy, comfortable. Whew!

Is this the kind of anxiety that awaits me every two to four years until I retire? Somebody please tell me no!

Catch-up Post #2: First Time in Africa - Ethiopia

I'm really disappointed in myself for not writing regularly whle I was in Addis Ababa - I had so MUCH to write about. Six weeks have passed and now I'm attempting to record what I remember below:

I felt a little nervous before going to Ethiopia because it is one of the poorer countries on the continent and based on what I'd heard from well-traveled people, developing countries in Africa were far behind Latin American countries. I was sort of expecting Addis Ababa, the capital, to be drowning in destitution - especially because I always remembered this country as the poster child for impoverished African countries. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to handle the "new poverty" that I'd heard so much about since I was leaving Latin America and specifically, the Dominican Republic - land of Ikea, luxury cars, and Cartier stores. Despite my apprehension, I was super excited about leaving the Americas and finally going OVER a SEA to arrive at my destination for the first time.

I finally arrived in Addis at about 9:30 p.m. on May 31st and my friend and colleague picked me up from the airport and took me to her home. Two things stood out to me on that 10 minute ride to her home. 1) There was a line of homeless people lying on the street outside the gates of a church. I have certainly seen homeless people before sleeping in urban U.S. cities; however, I don't think I'd ever seen so many at one time. 2) Although my friend lives in a really nice home, in a presumably safe and nice neighborhood, I couldn't tell that her neighborhood was nice by looking at the surroundings. In every place that I've traveled (and again, it had only been limited to the Caribbean and Latin America prior to this trip) the difference between middle - upper middle class neighborhoods and poor neighborhoods is painfully obvious.

I spent 30 days in Ethiopia and left with a completely different view of one of Africa's poorest countries and frankly, of the entire African continent - which cannot and should not ever be put in one big box. The following phenomena left the biggest impression on me:

* The capital city was so full of life - even at night. There were tons of small businesses everywhere; lots of people on the streets selling everything from maps to produce, to pirated Sam Cooke, Lionel Richie, and Michael Bolton cds; several new buildings were being constructed; an incredible number of diplomats and expatriates live in the city and the African Union's headquarters is there; the coffee shops were almost always crowded with young people; and there are plenty of restaurants, bars, dance clubs, and places to go for live music.

* Ethiopians seem so serene by nature. From the people that I worked with to the taxi driver we used consistently to the random folks I encountered, they struck me as a peaceful group. It was common to see heterosexual men (and women) holding hands in public, there is a low rate of violent crime, and I believe Christians and Muslims live in relative peace together.

* Orthodox Christianity is alive and well. There are tons of churches throughout the city; most of the places of interest for tourists are churches or other sacred places; fasting takes place twice a week and for several additional days throughout the year; people kiss the walls and grounds of the churches as they pass by; many women cover their hair; most of the females I saw were modestly dressed and even the prostitutes' clothing just reminded me my younger days when I dressed "up" for the club.

My short time in Ethiopia was luckily long enough for me to dispel a couple of long-standing myths for me:

* SOME PARTS OF AFRICA EXPERIENCE VERY COOL WEATHER. Addis Ababa is more than 8,000 feet above sea level and I wore a jacket heavy enough for autumn in Washington, DC on most days. I slept under three blankets at night and I would have looked like a fool had my friend not warned me that it was too cool for linen in Addis.

* MALARIA IS NOT A SERIOUS HEALTH THREAT IN EVERY AFRICAN CITY. Thanks to the altitude, I didn't need to take anti-malarial drugs nor did I run the risk of contracting malaria in the city.

Catch-up Post #1 - Quick Observations in Frankfurt, Germany

It has been months since I've written anything and I have had so much to write about, so I'm getting back into the swing of things now and writing what I remember.

On May 30th, I landed in Frankfurt and stayed over for a little more than 24 hours on my way to Ethiopia. It is the only time I've ever spent time in a European city and there were a few surprises - most of them pleasant. The first major thing that I noticed was just how orderly everything seemed to work in Frankfurt. Nothing seemed chaotic - not the airport, the traffic, or the security checkpoints at the airport. I was also struck by how relaxed the airport security process was once I landed in the country. After I collected my luggage, I stood staring at two doors for about five minutes while I waited on the customs agents to show up. There was a sign on one side that was for people who had something to declare and another sign for people that don't have anything to declare, but there were no customs agents available to receive a form, inspect luggages or anything. I found that to be very interesting and disconcerting. Although standing in lines at the airports in the U.S. and collecting my bags even if I'm only passing through the U.S. to go to another country takes extra time and can be a little annoying, I prefer that to not seeing a single person of authority around in an international airport.

Since food is quite important to me, I was quite pleased to find many outdoor/indoor cafes with great-tasting fresh breads and cheeses at reasonable prices. I was not happy to pay almost $10 for a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice though.

The parks were beautiful, clean, well-kept and really green. The weather was beautiful and I loved the beautiful trees.

It was impressive to see so many people riding bikes to and from work throughout the day and having bike lines throughout the city. I saw youthful men and women and grey-haired women and men riding bikes. I even saw a mom carrying her baby in a sling on a bike as she SMOKED A CIGARETTE IN THE BABY'S FACE. And this brings me to my last point about Frankfurt, Germany: How is it that a country with such lofty goals to use generate close to 30% of their energy from renewable sources in an effort to help Mother Earth not wage a visible, aggressive campaign against smoking?!? I couldn't believe how many people I saw smoking cigarettes there! I might be exaggerating, but it seemed like almost half the people on the street and in the cafes were smoking. That was the only disappointing thing about my short time in Germany - the place seemed so "with it" in some ways, but so far behind the times in one important way that affects environmental and public health.

One Dinner in the Life of a Struggling Expat (with one too many food restrictions)

Yesterday my teenager and his Haitian friend announced that his mom wanted to cook dinner for our family on Thursday - today. Of course we accepted the invitation.

I asked my son's friend if his mom was aware that we don't eat meat. He assured me that she knew. Although I still felt uneasy about eating at someone's house who doesn't know me or my family and whose ethnic cuisine I'd never tasted, I made a silent commitment to go, eat, and enjoy.

After arriving at their home and greeting the mom, aunt, sister, and son and learning which person spoke Spanish and which spoke English, the mom brought out a serving tray with 5 glasses of what looked like orange/pineapple juice to give us. I was quietly encouraging myself to drink this juice that I expected to be doused with sugar since I don't ever add sweetener to fruit juices. My husband, 13 year-old son and I were given full glasses of this "juice" but my young children weren't given anything, to their great disappointment.

After drinking some of this pungent "juice" and sharing it with our two and four-year-olds, my husband asked about the ingredients. The 18-year-old daughter explained that chinola (maracuya or passionfruit), pineapple, and orange juice were in it and the mom chimed in to say "and just a little bit of this" as she held up a 1.5L bottle of GIN!!!

Don't worry - I didn't fall out although I don't drink, my 13- year- old does not drink, and my two and four-year olds certainly don't drink alcohol. I just remember blinking my very wide eyes and trying to keep a smile on my face as my husband and I disappointed our children by telling them that the "juice" they were previously drinking with such enthusiasm was now off limits. Luckily, one of our hostesses quickly handed our little darlings two cups of non-alcoholic "cherry" juice.

I told my hostesses that I don't drink and they responded that "oh, it's just a little bit." I sat there trying to sip this gin juice and after a few more sips, I just couldn't do it anymore. 30 minutes later, one of the ladies took my glass while sucking her teeth jussst a little bit.

Finally, dinner was served. They had a table of rice and juandules (I don't know what the equivalent is in English but it is similar to tiny peas, just bitter if not washed properly), chicken, something else that looked like poultry, shredded cabbage with mayonaise, salad with shredded carrots, apples, tomatoes, and iceberg lettuce, and fried something.

I took some rice, shredded cabbage, and salad knowing that my son's friend must've told them that we eat alot of vegetables and fruit. My hostess insisted that I take some of the seafood - the seafood that looked like poultry- and she piled it on my plate. I asked what it was and she said it was lambi. Now is lambi a Creole, Spanish or French word? I resolved to taste the lambi and tried hard to believe that this food that looked and tasted like poultry was really seafood.

As we ate our food (we does not include my four-year-old who told me, "I don't like it" quickly after trying the fried something and shredded cabbage.), I kept reminding myself that it is extremely offensive to people from many other cultures when guests refuse to eat all or most of their food. So I forced myself to smile, chitchat and eat the shredded cabbage with mayonaise that I don't like and the carrot/apple/lettuce salad although cholera has made its way to Santo Domingo and I had no idea what they used to wash their produce, and the rice and juandules that were quite bitter because they probably weren't washed the way our housekeeper taught us.
I was sooo proud of myself...until I ate some of the mysterious lambi and discovered a tiny bone. Yeah. So I kept trying to whisper to my Spanish-speaking husband that had two glasses of the gin juice to ask him "have you ever eaten this before?", "is this really from the sea?", and "what kind of animal is this?" in Spanish or English depending on who was in the room with us since one person spoke Spanish and the other spoke English. Finally, I asked the hostess what the name of the food is again and she tells me "lambi". I ask her if it's seafood and she says, "yes". (this question and answer session with her is in English but her strengths are Creole and French). I then asked her how you say it in English but she couldn't remember. She's trying to remember the word and asks my husband if it's called LAMB in English and my husband who grew up on the Pacific Ocean and claimed to have eaten this before, but also had two glasses of gin juice, responded with a resounding "yes". So I tell her that, "no, I can't eat this because I don't eat meat and LAMB is not a seafood." She then tells me that it is from the sea. I asked her if it is a LAMB like the one that goes

Baaa, baaa

. She laughs, my husband almost vanishes into thin air from embarassment, and I try to keep a straight face since I, too cannot believe that I just imitated a sheep in this stranger's home as I represent the US Government in a country that is neither mine nor hers. So, she emphatically tells me "no, it's not LAMB" and I ask her to tell me what it looks like. (I know, I just could NOT help myself). She explains that it comes in a big shell and you have to scrape it out. I asked if it was conk or concha and she and my husband say "yes" together. So although it still reminded me of dark meat poultry, I ate the rest without additional inquiries.

I am always struck by the generosity of people I've met in other countries. Despite my UNgracefulness, the fact that she lost her sister in the earthquake last year and cannot live in her home in Haiti right now, my hostess gave me a tour of her home, offered to bring art back from Haiti for me on her next visit, baked us a cake, and repeatedly told me that her home is my home. I offered to invite them to our home next time for dinner (and yes one reason is so I can control the menu). I only hope that as I continue to befriend people in other countries, I will progress toward being a more perfect dinner guest.

Air Show in Santo Domingo

A couple of Sundays ago, we went to the Malecón on the waterfront to enjoy the air show put on by the Dominican military, in conjunction with our own military while lots of other non-essential programs were on the chopping block. Anyway, I'd like to say the day was just perfect; however, my 13-yr. old was "lost" for 4 hours. My dear hubby and I took turns exercising by walking 1+ miles in 85-degree weather under the blazing sun looking for him. I alerted the police and was taken to a first-aid area to give a description, although I'm not sure why since they did not have the emcee announce the lost child and my son wore an orange shirt just like half of the other male spectators that day.

Don't worry though - he found us juuuussst when he felt like it. I was worrying and thinking he had either fallen into the Caribbean Sea or been beaten and had his cell phone stolen while he was joking around with school friends that he found. Lucky for me, his friend's father works with me and when my wonderful child couldn't explain where we were exactly, he decided to intervene. I was so happy he was alive and safe, I don't even think I yelled.

Unfortunately for the little ones though, our concern for big brother meant they had to enjoy about 2.5 hours of the air show from our car (the last place we were all together).

That was no fun for the children or the parents, but my 2 yr. old managed to create body art

and we saw some cool formations

and a smiley face in the sky.

You have to strain and look at the bottom of the picture.

Company

My mom is coming! My mom is coming!
I LOVE LOVE LOVE company!!! My mother came last August, soon after we arrived, but before our car arrived so the only thing "special" she did was consume coconut water and young coconut meat from about 20 young coconuts and purchase something she needed from Ikea.

I'm not only excited because one of her bags is mostly full of special food items for us, like my 150 oz. of agave or bottles of Nettle to help control my daughter's environmental allergies. THIS time, her trip unexpectedly saved the day since next Tuesday is Grandparent's Day at Z. Mulenga's pre-school! I'm so thankful because I felt a little saddened by the thought of my daughter being the only child without a grandparent at school.

We're going to have a picnic at the Aquarium which has a beautiful outside part on a pretty part of the Caribbean Sea and visit Lost Tres Ojos and catch some of the DR's art.

I'm so looking forward to hanging out with her, my youngest two children are excited, my oldest loves her too but he's 13.

For those family members and friends that have considered visiting us, please do come. We'll treat you so well you won't want to return, but time is running out since we have less than 1.5 years left.

Remembering my Purpose

I love daydreaming, researching, imagining, anticipating, and wondering about many things in my life, especially where I'll live next. In 2009, I went a little crazy with all the daydreaming, researching, imagining, anticipating, and wondering about where I'd be only to end up in the only country that I hoped I wouldn't be. In 2010, I reduced time spent daydreaming, researching, imagining, anticipating, and wondering about where to next but I still couldn't stay away from Tales from a Small Planet. This year I spent 1 month in Barbados and found myself pining for the opportunity to live there next despite knowing that lots of little [bureaucratic] miracles would need to take place to make that a remote possibility.

During my time in Barbados, however, I had a revelation that left a lasting impression on me. "I am here to fulfill one of my life's missions". Consuming my energy with thoughts of "where to next?" and "oh, how I wish" is a symptom of my failure to honor my purpose for being here and disregard the totality of my "failures", disappointments, triumphs, prayers, and general life experiences that prepared and led me to be here. I certainly want to end up in the best place for my family and me, but I no longer want to write the detailed prescription [even in my head] for the best place for me to be. And I certainly don't intend to endlessly daydream, research, imagine, anticipate, and wonder about the next place as I did in the recent past.

I'm looking forward to living where I'm needed most, where I'll be able to influence lasting, positive change, and where my family will thrive.

The Grass Always Seems Greener...

I've been writing this post in my head for at least the last three weeks and although I'm finally physically recording my thoughts, some of these ideas have been replaced by a new revelation that I'll discuss in a subsequent post.

I've been in Barbados for the past 4 weeks now and I must say that the grass surely looks greener on this side of the Caribbean when compared to Santo Domingo. This place is so amazing for so many reasons, but the #1 reason for my love of this country is the courtesy and respect that everyday Bajans (Barbadians) extend to each other and foreigners. The people are not particularly friendly; however, they are very respectful. This was evident on the bus with reggae music blasting as a passenger held my bag for me because I had to stand up and she figured it was a bit too heavy for me to hold. I noticed it when a lady carrying a young child stepped on a full bus and a man immediately jumped up so she could sit down and on a different bus when another man quickly offered his seat to an elderly woman. (It is important to note that the buses don't have signs instructing anyone to give up seats for parents or the elderly & this doesn't even happen in DC on the Metro.) It is obvious whenever I pause on the sidewalk and within seconds a car stops so I can cross the street and whenever a car waiting to join heavy traffic is allowed to turn in front of another vehicle stopped in traffic.

Barbados is clean and making real efforts to be green too. The beaches are clean and the water is so clear that I could even see the bottom of the seashore on starry nights. People, including the young, the lesser developed, non-turisty efforts, and those with little resources, put trash in the trash cans. Bajans take pride in their country and seem to make continuous efforts to keep it beautiful.

The crime rate is low. As I've passed numerous homes and several neighborhoods, even the ones with really humble surroundings, I can't help but notice the absence of bars on the windows. The buses are safe - this includes the official ones, semi-official ones, and independently operated taxi-vans. I was very grateful for the opportunity to use public transportation daily to get home from work and do some sightseeing without being harrassed or without having to argue about the price of a bus ride.
It's easy being comfortable in Barbados while walking at night or early morning to catch a sunrise on the beach.

The Beaches are absolutely AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL and PERFECT and FREE and within CLOSE PROXIMITY of anywhere you live. The Government has not sold rights to their natural, precious resources to any private developers so that everyday Bajans are excluded from enjoying them and tourists are paying exorbitant rates to enjoy them. The beaches are clean and there are no stray dogs roaming around. For those that know me well, I am uncomfortable around dogs (stray or not). If I lived here, my family and I could drive or catch the bus to a different beach every weekend and not spend more than 30 minutes to 1 hour traveling.

Barbados has all the foodstuff I need and a good variety of healthy foods that even my oldest son will eat. Although I'd have to pay a premium, I can walk into a few stores and purchase tofu, liquid amino acids, agave, Ezekiel bread, and sunflower seed butter. My oldest could eat all the oranges, apples, and grapefruit he wants. We'd have easy access to garam masala, curry, and roti, and other Indian products. My husband would be so grateful to have an abundance of fresh fish from the Caribbean sea sold at reasonable prices. We would be able to eat out once a month as a family thanks to the delicious, healthy, and affordable restaurants around. Ahhh...just imagining the possibilities makes my heart smile.

Although I could go on and on about how wonderful this place is, I'll stop harping on just how much greener the grass is after making this last point. Barbados is a place where brown and natural beauty is celebrated and the people seem proud of who they are. I have two children at critical ages where the broader society's and/or their peers' ideas about what beauty looks like and what is acceptable and preferred can impact their own self-image and self-esteem. I think my dark brown teenaged son could use the boost that living among people who are okay with the skin they're in, especially after confronting insulting references to his skin color from Dominican classmates on a fairly regular basis. I would love for my 4 yr. old little girl to be immersed in a society where most little girls and big girls dress demurely; where two-strand twists, locks, kinky curls, and cornrows reign; and most teenagers and women keep make-up to a minimum. And finally, I would love getting my hair done professionally by people that know how to take care of unprocessed hair.

Despite the 1 million reasons I can list supporting my preference for Barbados over the Dominican Republic, I will return to my Dominican reality tomorrow. I will no longer daydream about moving my family to Barbados and I will make the most of each day in Santo Domingo.

The grass may seem greener in Barbados today, but I acknowledge that:
- An abundance of fruit and veggies grow in the DR and are available at reasonable prices. (In Barbados, the fruit is imported from the US and Chile and super expensive)

- Better English language opportunities are available for Dear Hubby

- My children are immersed in a culture distinctly different from ours that will expand their worldview much more so than it would in Barbados

- Acquiring Spanish as a second language (especially since it's the 2nd language in our home given Dear Hubby's Colombian roots) is so much easier than it is in Barbados

- The DR, not Barbados, is where I'm supposed to be now. It's where my Dear Hubby, N. David, and I are supposed to learn some important life lessons. It's where we are all progressing and being nurtured and prepared by those around us to meet different challenges in the future.

Lizards - A True Sign of Progress

In general I do not feel comfortable with animals other than homosapiens or fish sharing the same space with me. I really despise rodents of any kind and after living in the wrong place in Washington, DC for a year, I am absolutely traumatized by the sight of mice and rats.

When I lived in Belize City, the first place I landed outside of the U.S., I was scared of the Geckos that stayed in my house on the wall near the ceiling. Although the Belizeans said it was good luck to have them in the house, I never felt lucky at all.

Fast forward 10+ years and I am actually comfortable with the lizards and geckos living in our house. I'm very proud of myself for this "progress" because eventually I may come face to face with a greater variety of wildlife. Although I want to pat myself on the back, I'm not so sure I deserve it because my comfort level with the lizards and geckos is likely due to the fact that I'm SO RELIEVED and HAPPY that we don't contend with mice and rats. There are enough of them in this city and some have even shown up at the big boss' home, but they don't live HERE - thank Goodness.

My sister is here visiting though and although she's hung out in Senegal and Haiti, she didn't take it so well when one of the lizards planted itself in her room. I took several pictures of it on her suitcase, on the wall, and on the floor. My niece, sis and children Z. Mulenga and K. Amiri were quite scared but I just kept clicking away in my brand new bravery!

On-Duty and In Uniform 24/7

"I want to pass a law prohibiting that." - Dear Hubby (after watching a nanny dressed in a pinstriped uniform ushering two young children into the movie theater as they walked behind their mother and father)

Admittedly, I don't quite understand the nanny thing all day every day. I have my own feelings about it and just like there are inherently governmental functions that government employees perform, I think there are inherently parental functions that parents should perform when they aren't at work or taking a sanity break. The point of this post, however, is not to debate having a nanny or not.

I just want to express my not-so-humble opinion that it is absolutely unnecessary to have a nanny/maid dressed in full uniform OUT IN PUBLIC! In the DR, Nannies in Uniform are sighted everywhere - at my daughter's afterschool parent-child events, the mall, the movie theater, the aquarium, dropping the kids off at school, picking the kids up from school, outside at the Malecón (open space with restaurants, loud music, and families just hanging out by the sea). The only place I haven't seen nannies yet is at the beach, but I'm willing to bet there are Dominicans demanding that their nannies don their nanny swimsuits too.

Dear Hubby and I are always trying to figure out if they have to remain in uniform so that the line between family member and household help is obvious to outsiders or because it is a status symbol to have someone else running around after your kids in public places while you're standing by looking pretty.

At any rate, my not-so-humble opinion is that if you have a nanny who lives with you and tags along to EVERY SINGLE PUBLIC PLACE with you and attends all your child's school events and parent-teacher conferences, etc., then that person is essentially an extended member of the family. Why can't this extended member of the family who cares for your children be afforded the opportunity to dress in street clothes whenever out at the mall, movies, restaurants, school, or IKEA? If it's so important for others to know that they are not IN your family, give them name tags instead.

Full Disclosure: I know that Nannies are necessary for some families and I, too, enjoy the assistance of someone else on a regular basis. I haven't had to wash or comb my daughter's thick, curly, and often-tangled hair in months and I don't ever want to do it again because it's a big, 2 hour fight each time. My stomach just turns when I see nannies doing it all (all the time) and doing it in uniform.

We Gonna Fight for Our Right to....PARENT???

It's so funny how I used to have this idea that international schools or American schools overseas were going to be the solution to some of my problems in cookie-cutter US public high schools. I had this fairytale idea that a smaller, diverse student body in a private school would translate into my children getting the individual attention necessary, an expanded frame of reference, and an incredibly positive academic experience. My child certainly does have an ever-expanding worldview; however, the experience has not been quite as positive as I'd like it to be.

This Tuesday I left work early to meet with a problematic algebra teacher and the high school supervisor about N. David's performance in class and my need to stay involved and informed (translation my need to receive copies of the quizzes and tests after they are taken). Unfortunately, the algebra teacher had to miss the meeting (2nd missed opportunity) and the secretary forgot to mention that to me before I left work.

BUT

One hour later after waiting for the supervisor who apparently forgot we had a meeting, I was able to express my concerns for a 3rd time and in person. During our meeting, the supervisor reiterated to me 3 times that it is the policy of the math teacher to NOT send home chapter tests or the semester test because he analyzes the class' performance on the test by noting questions missed by multiple people. He is unable to send the tests home and have the parents return them, because they never get returned. I can make a bi-weekly appointment to VIEW the tests only.

This explanation can be likened to sour grapes, so during her third explanation I explained to her (a bit more emotionally than I would have liked to and certainly more than my dear hubby could take) that I am my child's parent and I have a right to see my child's quizzes and tests and I need to have them at home with me so we can go over what he missed together. The school is not free and it is unacceptable to lock parents out of their children's education since parents are partially responsible for their children's education. I have never in all my years of attending school or in the previous years of N. David's schooling EVER ENCOUNTERED SUCH RESISTANCE FROM A TEACHER!

Thankfully, the supervisor remained calm but not so thankfully she attempted to repeat the SAME explanation to me a 4th time.

UNACCEPTABLE! Period.

She offered to make copies of the quizzes for me so I can have those. She told me my child receives a study guide before the test and that should be enough for me or anyone else who is hired to help him with his algebra.

I NEED A COPY OF THE TESTS TOO. I Will not be cut out of my child's educational experience like this! Señor Perez should not be the only control point of my child's experience with algebra. Not this man who sarcastically asked my child, "Why? Is she your personal tutor or something?" in response to N. David requesting to take a copy of his failed test home to his mom. Señor PEREZ completely marked a question WRONG on a show your work test that was not completely wrong. Señor Perez does not return my phone calls! And Señor Perez had the audacity to tell me he thought my son only cared about music and he was surprised that he was an Honors student before. THIS is WHO I should feel comfortable with teaching my child? The ONLY teacher who hasn't taken the time to meet me and the ONLY one who doesn't have a way to communicate with me outside of the very disorganized communication system in this school. Again - I think NOT.

It cannot Be.

So, she offered to make copies of all quizzes and tests and dear hubby will pick them up. She also thinks Mr. Perez and I need to meet. You think so?

I have never, ever been a parent ready to fight the teacher or principal - and actually I've been the exact opposite in the past, which has not been so good for my son. But, this school and this experience with the Algebra teacher took the cake for me. Algebra is such a critical subject for him to master to ensure success in future math and science courses. My experience with this teacher has been so negative that I am not renewing my son's registration until I KNOW for SURE that he will not be teaching Geometry next year.

I should not have to struggle to be involved in my child's education and stay abreast of his progress. In so many schools across the U.S., teachers are begging parents to care about their kids academic success and show up to parent-teacher conferences. Sadly in the DR, in this school, no other parent of Señor Perez' other algebra students seem to be aware of what's missing and what I see as a fundamental right and responsibility of parents.

Oh How I Miss Thee

Although I'm happy to live in the DR working in my dream job, I definitely miss some things about home. I've spent the last week in DC for training and although this is my 2nd trip back home, it is my first time really feeling like there is alot that I forgo by living in Santo Domingo. Below is my list:

1. Being able to eat at a Thai, Indian, Ethiopian, Mexican, or Ghanian restaurant. I had Ethiopian food on U street last night and the restaurant was crowded and the food was delicious.

2. Being in a diverse environment where everyone's diverse interests can be accommodated in one place or another. The restaurant last night was filled with mostly non-Ethiopians and women and men of an array of backgrounds.

3. Walking home from the metro at night without feeling unsafe.

4. Drinking water with lemon at a restaurant without a. having to pay for it and b. worrying about getting sick from drinking it.

5. Friends and family members.

6. Traffic rules and people that follow them although the people in DC do push the limits.

7. Safe public transit.

8. Libraries.

9. Children's programs - theater, storytime, art museums

10. Free Museums.

11. Clean bathrooms.

12. Fresh baked whole-grain bread.

13. Selecting restaurants without being concerned about hepatitis or cholera.

14. Health food grocery stores.

15. Variety of products without chemicals for my hair and skin.

16. Blueberries.

17. Clean streets.

18. Regular trash pick-up.

19. Being surrounded by women with natural hair and not being the anomaly.

20. Carpet.

A Day ON, Not a Day Off

Today I celebrated Martin Luther King, Jr.'s life by giving to my community. I've wanted to do more than just sit around the house with the kids for a few years now, but two children two years apart, a teenager, and a husband who used to work on a schedule different from mine had me a bit worn out for the past few years.

We have a multi-use community park near our home. It includes a measured "track" that walkers and joggers use, a playground, and an outdoor stage with bleacher-style concrete seats. Unfortunately, the park is trashed almost nightly by people who drink their alcohol and leave the bottles and cans and the families that eat ice cream or pizza and leave the wrappers, napkins, popsicle sticks, and boxes behind. Every morning, however, a couple of people are paid to pick up the trash and sweep the sidewalks and random citizens looking to recycle glass bottles stop by to collect bottles that are still in tact. Despite the daily clean-up effort, the playground is never cleaned. The trash remains and the equipment is pretty filthy.

My children like to play at the playground, but one of the measures listed to prevent the spread of cholera (a new problem in the DR) is to avoid playgrounds. Although I'd be happy to avoid the playground, my young children wouldn't be so happy. This morning I had both the energy and will to clean up the playground, especially after my housekeeper came in talking about what she heard about MLK on T.V. last night. I took my rubber gloves, a bottle of bleach, bucket, and sponge and went to work. Ground water is available from various spouts around the park so I was able to wipe down the playground equipment and pick up the trash.

Afterward, the lady that was cleaning the rest of the park asked me if I am having a party at the playground. I told her no - I just wanted to disinfect it since I doubt it's ever been cleaned in the 4+ years since the park has been in the area. I then shared with her that today we celebrate MLK's birthday in the U.S. and our president suggests that community service is a good way to honor Dr. King's memory.

The most important point of this post is that IT...FELT...SOOOOO...GOOOOOD to actually get up and DO something about a problem and help meet a need instead of sitting down and mulling over the issue, pontificating about how my fellow Dominicans need to respect their environment and put trash where it belongs, and sitting comfortably in my home thinking about how dirty that playground is.