Llegó la Lluvia

The rainy season has officially arrived. After watching much of April and May pass by in relative dryness, it has been raining for almost a solid week and with no end in sight. The showers have even been accompanied by the only thunder and/or lightning I have witnessed in this country. While I normally would be looking forward to the next thundershower and the lazy day that accompanies it, rain (and lots of it) completely alters the pace of everyday life here in the DR. Dirt roads become mud holes, rivers rise, tin roofs leak and daily life becomes more complicated. All those things together make for extremely slow days when people rarely leave the house and work and school become optional. I’m enjoying the down time and there are few things better than sitting on the porch with a book while the rain falls, but I really hope the rains leave with the month of May. That said, hurricane season opens in June and all predictions say that this season will be active, so the rain is likely here to stay.

As the rainy season begins, the election season has come to an end. ¡Por fin! Election campaigns have been in full swing since the fall and are possibly more obnoxious than U.S. elections, if you can believe that. Politicians and politics in general are equally ridiculous and corrupt here as they are in the States, but here the ridiculousness is far more overt. Political favors are done in the open rather than under the table.

The senatorial race in my province was especially bizarre in this cycle. I won’t bore you with the details, but at the end of the day an aging man with zero political experience won in a landslide over the incumbent. Only after it was determined that the aging man’s popular young son was constitutionally unable to run for office in this province did ‘Papá’ get named as his replacement. Like in America, politics is a ‘What have you done for me lately?’ game. And the ruling Purple Party has paved roads, erected buildings and paid straight cash in exchange for votes. With a résumé like that, there was never any doubt they would win and win big. 31 of 32 Senate seats big. Talk about a supermajority.

Politics have been at the forefront since I arrived in DR last August, but the months of being inundated with all things electoral are over. The trucks carrying banks of blaring speakers and caravans holding up traffic are gone. The television and radio ads have ceased. The political favors have been put on hold for another 2 years, when presidential elections set the events of political lunacy into motion once again.

So for now it’s less bulla and more lluvia. Lots and lots of lluvia.

Celebrando el Este

This past weekend I went to another weekend-long camp called Celebrando el Este (Celebrating the East). This youth conference/camp is designed to be a celebration of the eastern region the DR, the DR itself and the entire globe. Over the course of 3 days we touched on issues of diversity, geography, history, world cultures and more.

All volunteers living in the eastern region were invited to attend and bring 2 youth along to participate. Fortunately for my youth and I, the conference was held just down the road from my site at Rancho Don Fernandez, a ranch founded by former gold glove-winning shortstop Tony Fernandez, who is from nearby San Pedro de Marcoris.

The Dominican educational system is, well, shit. Therefore, topics of history, geography and all things having to do with life off of this island are rarely taught and seldom learned. For example, most Dominicans think New York City and the United States are the same thing. Almost no Dominicans can find the DR on a map and few have knowledge of other cultures and religions that exist in the world.

Along with our group of Peace Corps Volunteers of many cultural, racial and ethnic backgrounds sharing stories and culture, we invited volunteers from both the Korean and German equivalents of Peace Corps to share their cultures as well. The Korean volunteers did a tae kwon do lesson, which the kids ate up. We also presented info on 9 other countries around the world and give the kids passports and stamps for ‘visiting’ each of these countries. And we tie-dyed t-shirts, which was a first for our youth.

It was a fun weekend and provided valuable info to the kids. Discrimination and racism are serious problems here in the DR and any chance for youth to compartir with people of different backgrounds and educate themselves is a good thing.

Korean volunteer and youth practicing tae kwon do.

Tie-dying shirts.

With my 2 youth.

The youth with their certificates.

Patronales

Every town or city in the Dominican Republic has an annual celebration in honor of its Patron Saint called Patronales. Patronales here in El Seibo is the first week of May and is highlighted by the only bullfights left in the Dominican Republic. Yes. That’s right. Bullfights.

A group of 4 volunteers and I hitch hiked from another city in the east to my site on Sunday afternoon to see this for ourselves. Bullfights are one thing. Bullfights in the Dominican are a very scary prospect. The ring is erected for this week only and is located on the western edge of town. Right beside it is the shadiest looking carnival imaginable. The ferris wheel and handful of other rides were clearly first used in 1950’s America and made their way down here after being deemed unsafe for human usage circa 1975.

There are no bleachers or spectator seating set up around the bullring. Instead, there is some plywood placed upon ancient scaffolding that one can stand on for the price of 50pesos ($1.40). Once we secured our vantage point and enough rum to make us forget about our personal safety atop the scaffolding, we patiently waited for the toros to arrive. Random Dominicans entertained the crowd by riding horses, playing stickball and plugging their favorite politician (Elections are May 16^th).

About one hour after they were due (or right on time in the DR), the 5 bulls arrived and everyone got ready for the madness. This isn’t Spain and the fights are to be humane. The matadors evade the bull using a cape but do not kill it. That said, humane treatment of animals doesn’t really exist here.

The first bull charged its way into the ring and the 3 Dominican matadors in full costume (plus baseball cleats) got to work. The matadors walked away unscathed and the toro seemed to lose interest quickly, spending most of his time staring at the positively suicidal spectators lining the inside, yes inside, of the ring. In time, men on horseback entered the ring, roped the bull and drug it away.

This pattern continued more or less with each passing bull. The bulls did get the best of the matadors occasionally, taking them to the ground and giving the crowd something to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ about. The one glaring difference was that with each subsequent bull, more and more drunken Dominicans would enter the ring to taunt the toro and try to play matador. Using the shirt off their back or a political poster, they would provoke the bulls and risk their lives.

By the 5^th and final bull, at least 60 Dominicans charged a 2,000 pound animal, pulled its tail, jumped on its back and tackled it to the ground. Pure insanity. One swift kick of the leg or thrust with the horns could have produced serious injuries. In fact, one man died earlier in the week. That death did nothing to deter the locals from risking more death and/or bodily mutilation by playing with dangerous animals.

While this Dominican shitshow was disturbing, it was most definitely entertaining The makeshift ring, the creepy carnival, sketchy scaffolding, the drunk Dominicans. It was a unique cultural experience that only takes place here in my site. That said, I did not make a return trip later in the week. Once was more than enough. I can handle waiting 365 days until the nextPatronales to put myself through that again.