Running with the Cows

Junior on Family Day

Today I am having a bit of a dilema about which kiddie I should write about, so I am going to include a short note about two different ones! First we have Junior, the second oldest of the children here at 17 years old so not quite a kiddie. In the past month or so he has become one of my best friends out of the kids, partially just because we chat often and as he is older it is possible to have more real conversations. We have shared a lot of past stories and future hopes for life, as well as constantly joking around. Junior is currently the equivalent of a freshman in high school, and with three more years to go will finish at an age of 21. But he realizes how lucky he is to have the opportunity to stay in NPH with all his needs covered to finish school and wants to do exactly that. He hopes to be an engineer when he grows up, but his real passion and favorite passtime is music. He writes hip hop songs and sings them, and was even going to a studio a little while back to record a few things! But he doesn´t want that to be his career, because he wants to be a responsible father who gives his kids a hug everyday when they come home from school. A really great kid that one.

Antony - Looking rather angelic! (and with a pretty normal look on his face!)

The second is Antony. A boy of 6 years who arrived at the home just before I did with his 3 bothers and sisters. To put it simply, Antony is an animal, in the best possible way. I am always referring to him as a monkey because he can generally be found swinging himself all over my body as if I were a tree. His second animal like talent is the ability to make the strangest and most amazing of faces and noises. I am constantly amazed by him and we are always giggling together. A great example of how I can have good relationships with the younger kids but need some real conversation to balance it out.

Although telling you a bit about my kids is a tradition, the real inspiration for this post was to share a funny story with you. A few days ago I was headed home from hanging out with some kids as they were headed to the chapel to say the rosary when Yan Carlos, one of the older boys, came riding up on one of our many recently repared bikes.

“Who is in charge of the cows?” he asked.

“Well technically I suppose I am” I told him.

“Bueno, four of them are on the baseball field.”

And that is how an evening of chasing cows began. We went to check out the situation: which in all reality was four very content cows eating some tasty plants that don´t grow inside their fence. They had escaped through a small hole in the fence, I honestly would love to have seen them escaping because I can´t imagine them getting through the hole! The decision was made that we needed reinforcement, more people. So I conspicuously removed about half of the oldest boys house from the rosary (for which they were all eternally grateful) and we headed off to herd some cows. This section of the night was rather simple, walking/running behind and to the side of them yelling and they head away from the noises... right into their pasture. What began as me wondering how we were going to herd cows ended rather uneventfully.

Or so I thought. We returned to the chapel for the last 10 minutes or so, and while leaving with a different herd, that of children, there were a few shouts of “las vacas las vacas!!” (the cows the cows!). I turned to see the cows had not been content being returned to their grand pasture and had simply headed out again (as we sillily thought it was about to be dark and we could fix the hole in the morning). But this time they weren´t wandering to the far end of the property... they were headed towards the houses. After a bit of commotion, trying to get the kids to head home, Guzman (a man who helps in the farm by day and works at the door by night) came running rather frantically. I looked over to see the cows jogging along through the entrance to the farm... ready to move on to vegetables! This is where the hilarity of the evening came into play. Whoever happened to be standing nearby, from kids of 10 years to Guzman who is probably close to 60, all went running after the cows. Through the squash plants. Through the orchard. And in winding maddness into the pasture of the sheep! There they stayed for the night, as it was easier than moving them back to their home on the other end of the property, and we were able to rest easy, knowing there were no holes in the fence.

Change is a comin´

Before I get into any details of things that have happened these past weeks… I have some rather large news to share. Over the past two days, I´ve been learning myself how to approach the subject and have found that really the only way to do it is to come right out and say it, without a preface... My time with NPH will be coming to a close soon. I will be heading home a bit earlier than planned. Although there were always a few doubts in my head, since my first few weeks here – the past two months have provided a lot of clarity for me. My heart is not with this community, this organization, my work here – this I am sure. And as I am sure you can imagine, this is not the type of work one can succeed in half-heartedly. In reality, the reasons are countless, though this is the largest of them all as well as the most important, so I shall not bore you with a long -winded explanation. Though if anyone cares to know more, contact me!

I would also like to express the fact that by no means do I regret my decision to come here. Not only this organization, but all of my experiences in this country have opened my eyes in a way that nothing in the US ever could have. I have met some of the most amazing people, be it in passing or relationships formed over the course of my months here. I´ve listened to people share their personal experiences with the deep social/infrastructure/governmental problems that exist in this country, and I am sure in many other places around the world. I have experienced things that one cannot experience without living in another country and gaining the trust of the people there. So I will be leaving, after a few weeks in the country with my family, at the beginning of January. Who knows where life will bring me next, though currently I am hoping to find a job in Ann Arbor (of anyone knows of anything, please please let me know) – and hope that my future will bring me to other countries and cultures when time and money allows. I think one of the things making this decision has taught me most is that in life it is so important to follow your heart. The dominicans have taught me that many people in the world don´t have the ability many of us do to change our circumstances when we aren´t content with them. They have reminded me that the ability to follow ones heart should be taken advantage of.

And now I suppose for a few annecdotes, as that seems to be the simplest way to go about this.

-Just after posting my last post, I headed to a little pueblo outside of San Pedro where a fellow employee of mine has reently moved. A woman from Germany who spends half her time in this country doing outreach work with the home, and by most is considered to be more dominican than most dominicans, she really embraces the culture. Anyways, she was hosting a house warming party for herself... and what I imagined to be some NPH employess and some of her dominican friends having a few drinks and dancing for the night was so so much more. Sancocho (a traditional dominican stew) was cooking in giant pots over big fires outside when I arrived, her front yard and street filled with the classic plastic chairs and tables of this country, and already (at 4pm) a slew of people filling the house and yard. The night turned into a grand gathering of people of all nationalities, from rich europeans to haitans from the batey of 15 houses next to our home living on almost nothing. There was a folkloric dance group who came and played music and danced for us, a grand feast of sancocho, and bachata merengue and reggetone until late in the night. But the fiesta was not over that night, it continued with a trip to the beach the next day. With about 20 people piled into her very broken pickup truck (Mother, for your sake I will spare the details) – we headed to a nearby beach and planted ourselves in the shade of a grove of coconut trees to rest from a long night of dancing. And then we ate spaghetti. I learned that day that dominicans are very fond of this food as a ´beach food.´ who would have thought, right, that it makes sense to bring a giant pot full of spaghetti to the beach... but to tell you the truth, it was damn good after a long swim!

My memory is not treating me very well currently and I cannot seem to think of any other grand anecdotes to share and my motivation to write has dwindled... so I shall leave it at that. I´ll try to keep up the blog a bit over the next few weeks, continue sharing interesting anecdotes about my life here.