sábado, 22 de noviembre de 2008


This time four years ago, I was on the front lines of the presidential election. For the months leading up to the elction, I was working with various organizations on registration and GOTV efforts – phone-banking, canvassing, whatever. Election night, I was in a hotel ballroom in Orlando, watching the returns come in, with hundreds of other election volunteers. By the time we had to board our plane back to Washington, DC at 2AM, we knew it was over. Our hard work, our valiant efforts, just weren’t enough. We went back to our normal lives as students, chafing under an administration that we were unable to change.

This time around, it was a little different. Four years later, I am in a different place. No longer a student, probably less idealistic, and certainly in no position to do any campaigning, I watched from afar as well as I could. I asked for email updates from friends and I checked the news whenever I was able to use the Internet.

Watching CNN from afar is fascinating. I happened to be at the Peace Corps office (where there is cable) when Sarah Palin was introduced to the world. The other Volunteers and I were intrigued. Who was this mysterious, folksy woman from Alaska? The only thing CNN seemed to be concerned with was that she has a pregnant teenage daughter. All news, all the time. Anyway, I was back at the office a week later and they were still talking about her. By then, I had found out a little about her. Could Americans be that dim? Thankfully, it looks like they came around.

What I found most interesting is that Dominicans have taken an interest in the election, even in my isolated village. I have not met one Republican Dominican. Every single one would vote for Obama if they had the chance. Maybe its because although they won’t admit it, they all secretly know that they’re actually black, and this is their outlet in acknowledging this fact. Or perhaps they are genuinely concerned for the state of the world (I am often told that the money spent on the Iraq war could be better spent otherwise, like helping the poor. I couldn’t have said it better). Dominicans would not caught dead calling themselves black (on the national identity card, there is a space for skin color. Every single one I have seen says “indio,” which in Dominican parlance, covers many shades of brown), so here was their chance. They readily called Obama black, or even “prieto” (really black), but with a tone of respect.

For election night this year, a few of us got together at a hostel with cable in a nearby city. We watched CNN, as I did four years ago, anxious but hopeful. This time, the room didn’t fall silent but erupted in cheers, and the only tears to be found were those of joy. All of the local news programs the next morning devoted thorough coverage to the election of the new presidente Americano negro.

Just as good was when I returned home. I have received congratulations from at least ten different families. When I walked into my host family’s house, my host mom’s face erupted into a huge smile and she hugged me, telling me that she and her family were so happy and very proud, and looking for a better next four years. The interest and reaction of my neighbors made not being in the States at least a little bit better. I, too, am happy and proud once again at what my country can produce.

The picture should be of my youth winning the business plan competition I wrote about awhile back, he is the one in the middle holding the small certificate.

Un Ano


aA year in the Peace Corps. One year ago, I arrived at my site for my first visit, although I did not swear in as a Volunteer until the next week. We say that the year has passed quickly, or at least it feels like it. But the things I have seen and accomplished in the past year are many, so I argue that this year was, in fact, very long. I hope that the next year is even longer, as I have even more to see, accomplish, and then conclude before I leave here in November, 2009.

It being around Thanksgiving time, let me step back and give thanks for some of what I have here. When I was home in August, it was nice not sweating waking up or having to battle tarantulas, but there was also something missing. I couldn’t go next door, be offered fresh papaya juice and play dominos or talk about life. Children didn’t wander barefoot into my house and they didn’t scream my name when I walked past. Although my mother might tell me differently, I’m just not as special in America as I am here. My neighbors truly care for me and for my work (most, anyway). They see me as an asset, and they are happy that I live and work with them. We enjoy the most basic aspects of life together – a brilliant moon, a smiling child, freshly cut sugarcane. Sure, they complain, and often with good right, as plenty is lacking here. They, however, also know how to value what they have, which I find inspiring. I have certainly learned just as much from them, if not more, as they have from me.

Another reason I am glad I am here is not having to worry about all this financial mess going on back home. Since I have a net worth of almost nothing, it hasn’t really affected me that much. This net worth isn’t growing very quickly with the money I receive here, although I just got a raise – I now earn five figures (in pesos). Of course, inflation here has recently gone up, so this new money is disappearing fast. At home in my campo (village), I spend almost nothing – rent is $12 (yes, dollars) and I pay my former host mom $30 a month to feed me lunch. Dinner last night was a 45-cent avocado with two pieces of ten cent bread. My neighbor makes ice cream in little plastic bags for eight cents, so I had a couple of those, too. The electricity here is unreliable at best, so the end product tends to resemble half-frozen sugared juice. Nevertheless, still delicious.

So, a year to go in the Peace Corps. Wish me luck. Sending me things would be nice, too.