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.