At Las Batatas

So I just found out where i´ll be living the next 2 years of my life...

After a long formal day of introduction ceremonies and a 5 hour ride up from Santo Domingo, I arrive in the campo de campo on the back of a pickup with my fellow volunteer, Duncan, who´ll be living on the mountain above my site. The two of us are greeted by a bright yellow sign ¨Welcome Cuerpo de Paz to Las Batatas¨. The whole town, sitting in a giant circle of chairs on my project partner´s front lawn, stands up and begins to clap. Duncan and I are led to chairs in the center of the circle. My project partner puts his hand on my shoulder and begins a grand speech telling everyone that I am to be their sister, their neice, their daughter, their family and that the town is incredibly fortunate to have me. At this point I am beyond words...exhausted and overwhelmed and controlling my desire to burst out in nervous laughter over the scene playing out before me. I manage to just splutter out how fortunate I am to build a water system together with the community and that I can´t wait to meet everyone.

After my less than captivating oration, which involves a lot of smilling a graciases, I am ushered forcefully toward a pudgy, featureless fellow who I find out is the Sindico (senator dude whose gonna get me mad fundos to start construction) and commence in forced small talk about how I love to dance bachata and eat pico pollo. I can´t understand any of his slurred Northern drawl so instead I just answer questions that I think that he should be asking.

After this whole production, my Project Partner turns to Duncan, as an afterthought...oh, and he´s working up on the mountain.

Hilarious.

So its a town called the sweet potatoes, except that there aren´t really any sweet potatoes. the prices plunged a few years back and everyone just figured that milking cows is now a better bet. Four houses have luz part of the day, a failed project slapped together by some phony politician attempting to raise votes.

People ride to the big downtown of Yasica for groceries, drinks, and chisme (gossip) on horseback. I drink hot chocolate milk every morning and bath in the river every afternoon. I´m an hour from some of the most renowned resort areas (Sosua and Puerto Plato) in the country.

I´ve replaced the city´s dirty high rises for the pueblo´s grassy fincas, I´ve left behind the traffic jams and guaguas for cattle stampedes and horseback bolas (bola equals a hitch).



River on the way to the mystery noria (spring).



Cascada on the same trip to the mystery noria...my dedicated water committee

November 2
Day of the Dead...or Day of Naranjas...