On the Fly

Hi everyone! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while - and that this update must be short and business-like.

House-keeping:
Some people have said that they are not getting the update emails I send out. It seems that the mass emails (at least for people using gmail) are sometimes getting directed to the Spam box, instead of the regular inbox. If you have not been receiving update emails with a link to this log, and suspect you should be, try checking your trash or spam boxes. You should be able to approve my emails and receive them in your regular inbox. If that still doesn't work, just let me know and I'll double-check that your email is included in the list.
Also, in response to some emails: I'm sad to admit that I don't know how the boy from the last entry was rescued. I just saw the aftermath. Sorry to leave you with such a mystery!

I want to say a big THANK YOU to everyone for your notes, emails, blog comments, etc. Even if it seems I am uninterested (or I don't reply quickly, etc.), I am so thankful for these communications from home. I'm starting to feel more and more settled here, but it's lovely to have some connection back home, too.

The last two weeks have been busy and engaging. We continue to work on our Health Promoters program in the clinic and it's picking up speed! I am currently running out the door to go to a retreat weekend up in the mountains for people ages 20-35. It's supposed to be cool and beautiful, with waterfalls, hiking, and horse-back riding at the diocesan camp. It should be a good chance to get to know people my age. But - I'll be honest - I'm sort of nervous. At home, meeting new people, making friends, and visiting new places are all pretty easy for me. But here, where I stand out and it's a struggle to communicate, that stuff takes a lot more work. It still surprises me how much mental preparation I have to do to feel ready for any event outside of the clinic. So, this weekend is me taking a deep breath and plunging in. It will be beautiful and a chance to see and do things I've never done before (and a great way to practice Spanish!), but it's still work and effort. I'm looking forward to that great feeling of accomplishment that comes only after trying something new and intimidating! I know going to this retreat is certainly not something I will regret. Here I go!

So, I will be sure to update you all with stories and pictures from the weekend. And, lest that last paragraph make you worry, let me assure you that I'm happily settling in and enjoying this adventurous year. In fact, there's a lot of things about settling in that make me inordinately happy. Some examples from this week include correct usage of the subjunctive and the word "Supongo," successful washing and line-drying of my clothes and sheets, and an invitation from my co-worker, Ana, to hang out next weekend! I go ahead and let myself be pretty thrilled with these small events - life is good! So now I'll close with a description of the pictures (above) from last Sunday, when the whole church went to the other side of the country for a day at a stunning beach. I was nervous about that day too, but came through it with new acquaintances (and a slight sunburn): a success to be sure.

[For some reason, I can't get the pictures to appear anywhere but on the top of my entry.... It doesn't help that this entire site is also in Spanish now that I'm in a Spanish network. Oh, well. Any advice is welcome.]

Love to all! Have a wonderful Labor Day weekend!

A Saturday with Hurricane Dean

A typical house in Villa Faro

A combination of trash and the beautiful ocean (Villa Faro)

Clothes drying on barbed wire outside a half-constructed home (Villa Faro)

My family, from left to right:
Father Guelmy, Jayza (14-yo), Reyna, Claribel (19-yo)
Just before Jayza's graduation!

An entry written on Saturday, August 18 (posted later due to internet issues):

I'm hunkered down in my dim room, waiting for today's weather to pass. It looks like Hurricane Dean is blowing away from San Pedro, and we're just getting the edges. But there's a lot of rain beating on our aluminum shutters and the wind is literally howling! Surprisingly, the weather has made for a really fun day, since everyone's holed up in the house. We made homemade pizza for lunch, with onions, mushrooms, corn, ham, and oregano. Delicious! Jayza, the fourteen-year-old, has the equivalent of her junior high graduation today, so she is running around the house in curlers and hoping for less rain by the time of the ceremonies this evening. Tonight will be the first wearing of her new dress and shoes, which she proudly modeled two nights ago - gotta love an excuse to get dressed up!

Earlier this afternoon, Fr. Gulemy yelled to me that there was a rescue going on at the beach two blocks away, where two boys had been surfing and one was now stranded clinging to a buoy. The waves are too high for boats to be on the water, and everyone from the neighborhood was gathering at the shore to see how the boy would be retrieved. Half an hour later, Fr. Gulemy called me onto the porch to witness what he called a "Dominican tradition" - the streets chock-full of people leaving the beach after a successful rescue. He laughingly said, "A Dominican custom: where there is danger, go find it!" Nobody is working today because of the weather, but everyone will make it to the beach to see a daring water rescue. What an eventful day....

And now, The Week in Work:

The clinic has a great public health program that works to place local people in healthcare roles right in the community. Well-liked, responsible, and interested community members are recruited and taught basic healthcare and water usage information and how to make effective home visits. These volunteer "Health Promoters" serve as educators, sources of advice, and advocates for their local community. They are trusted by and accessible to their neighbors - and they know first-hand what it's like to live in the neighborhood - which makes them an invaluable bridge between the clinic and the community. The most recently trained Health Promoters are to be assigned regions of Villa Faro and given the results from our health census, including information on population, illness, pregnancies, etc. We did a workshop training for these H.P.'s two weeks ago, and finished the census this past week, so I thought this week would bring assignments and the start of the Villa Faro program!

Then I found out that there is no map of Villa Faro. Suddenly, assigning regions and giving meaningful geographic census information was really out of the question. So, there was nothing to do but make our own map! Compasses, addresses, pavement, streets with names, grids....oh, the things I have taken for granted! Dr. Dohn and I were lucky enough to start with (only slightly outdated) Google satellite pictures of the city, zoomed in extra close, printed, and taped together into a large scroll. Clutching those fuzzy pictures and a blank scroll, we drove and walked the southern half of the neighborhood, drawing solid lines for driveable roads and dotted lines for winding footpaths and impassable roads. We noted important landmarks: a church, a school, every "Colmado" convenience store, and a big abandoned hotel-type building. This week, we will hopefully finish with the north half of the neighorhood. Even though it's a long, hot process, it's fun (like a puzzle) and a great chance to talk to people in Villa Faro.

Before, I wouldn't have thought to link maps and medical care, even though maps are used everyday in healthcare in the US (e.g. ambulances, satellite healthcare sites, hospital transfers, even bills!). When you think about it, healthcare, governments, social services, religious communities...all of these are inextricably connected. A lot goes into quality healthcare! And I like the idea of a healthcare provider who can use many different skills, in addition to scientific and technical training, to care for his patients. What a wonderful challenge, to think outside the box, to tap into different talents and resources! We need a map. So we're making one. It's so far been an exercise in patience and creativity, but it will hopefully contribute to the improved health status of an entire community - plus, we're making a copy for the city as well.

This week has certainly flown past; today marks my first month in the DR! I really can't believe it - I still feel like I just got here. I'm happy and healthy and learning new things everyday! And now it's really started pouring again, so I should finish up in case we lose power. Love to all!

Villa Faro

I promised weeks ago to include a description of the nearby neighborhood where we're conducting our health census. Soooo, without further ado, here it is, in brief:

Named for a non-functional lighthouse on the shore, Villa Faro ("Lighthouse Village") is a neighborhood that stretches north from the Caribbean Sea toward the center of the city of San Pedro - only a sixty-second drive on a paved street from my house. There's a huge jolt when the Jeep we drive leaves pavement to drive on Villa Faro's muddy/dusty streets, bouncing on top of the reefs of dead coral that make up the ground beneath this neighborhood. There are no sidewalks, gutters, or drains; no running water, and only improvised electric lines strung from tree to tree. Homes mostly made of salvaged boards and corrugated tin line tributary paths that branch off the road. There can be 2-5 houses stacked unseen behind the house facing the street.

Yesterday, while working on a presentation about water access in Villa Faro, we stopped to get a picture of a water system belonging to a woman named Maria. Dr. Dohn's profession became apparent, and, suddenly, we were ushered into the house to check Maria's father, Melvin, who had undergone abdominal surgery for a hernia in April. We entered through a typical homemade fence of rusted tin and barbed wire, strung with drying clothes. Maria's family, like most, has a "well" - a hole dug through the coral to the (salt) water table below. Inside the house, there are holes in the tin roof and the concrete floors. Maria and her seven-year-old daughter and three-year-old son live in two rooms at the front of the "lot." Melvin lives in a third room off the back. He is lucky to have his own mattress and mosquito netting; most people in this neighborhood have to share. Fortunately, even though his surgical wound has opened up and not yet healed itself, Melvin is doing fine, with no signs of infection and plenty of antibiotics and dressings. He is in pain, though; we brought some Tylenol today to help.

After dropping off the Tylenol, we continued our health census, walking from house to house in Villa Faro and asking questions about water access/uses, family size, and incidence of child/infant diarrhea, cough, and respiratory infection. On afternoons like this, I work with Ana, a woman about my age and height, which makes us an approachable pair to kids running around the neighborhood. We often have a small entourage of kids in tow, curious about what we're doing. Today, we rounded a corner and were met by a group of about six 8- to 12-year-old boys playing baseball in the street. With no families in sight, one of the older boys volunteered to answer our questions for his household. We must've made quite the spectacle, because soon we were surrounded by jostling and laughing boys. And then came the questions about diarrhea. Already fairly giggly, that just sent the boys over the edge. And what can you do when you're up to your eyeballs in 10-year-old boys in hysterics about diarrhea? Nothing but join in! Needless to say, the suvey was over. But we all had a great time!

Afternoons spent in Villa Faro are simultaneously enjoyable and heart-breaking. I struggle to describe the complex relationships among love, poverty, laughter, illness, beauty, struggle, and hope. (I sat in front of a blank computer screen for days thinking through different descriptions and stories before I could write anything.) Despite - or maybe because of - this complexity, census afternoons have become a favorite part of my week. I know that when we're finished with the census (we're nearing the end now), I'll miss it, but the lessons I've learned and the experiences I've had will be with me forever. And, with our newfound information, we will begin a local preventative healthcare program! Vive Villa Faro! - and may better times soon come your way!