Not a dump, just happens to be right next to one

Hello there friends!  I’m back, and as you can see, there are some wonderful pictures to illustrate some of my previous adventures on Facebook.  If you’re not a member of Facebook, shoot me an email and I’ll send you a link.

Well, I have been busier than an air-traffic controller at JFK the day after Christmas…OK, let me rephrase that, I have been busier than an air-traffic controller at JFK the day after Christmas pretends to be, while he/she has actually just been laid off and thoroughly enjoys manipulating flights to the point where one group has been transferred to a DC-10 for a more “adventurous” experience, another group has initiated emergency exit procedures due to someone who up and decided to smoke in the lavatory, in which there are clearly smoke detectors, as they thoroughly warn you, and one plane has been kept circling the airport by the disgruntled controller for hours (the pilots don’t mind, they’ve always got solitaire to keep them busy).

Enough pot shots at the airline industry.  I love flying, I love pilots and I love angry air traffic controllers, I love desk attendants (their job is to smile while people yell at them all day: not for those with low self-esteem), and I especially love those guys that drive the carts around the airports with old or handicapped people (and the occasional freeloader).  Point is, I’ve been busy, so much so, that this is the first time in a few weeks that I’ve had to write two paragraphs to explain a concept that could have easily been written in a simple sentence.  So, increased busyness = more stories = more blog posts.  So that’s right, in addition to this excruciatingly long intro, you’re going to get not one, not two, but three blog posts at once (the third will be arriving on Tuesday).  Can you handle it? No? Then go read the choose your own adventure blog, cause that’ll blow your mind (sooo manyyy choooiiiceesss).

(Ed. Note: As my English is failing me, and my Spanish continues to consist of garbled phrases and poor verb conjugations, my attempts at expressing myself have become pretty pathetic.  So I’m sorry…) 

As you guys know, I really do enjoy writing with a hint of sarcasm and/or quite a bit of humor, but my time here in the Dominican Republic definitely has guided me to some serious topics and issues that deserve to be documented.  The Haiti post was a prime example, but it was one of many to come. 

For the last few weeks, I have begun my service component of my study abroad experience with a school called Niños con una Esperanza (Children with Hope).  It is a community school located in Cienfuegos, one of the poorest neighborhoods in Santiago.  Now, while I could beat around the bush with lush descriptions and correlating examples in order to create a more vivid image of the community, I feel that it would be more just to explain the community in simple terms.  First, there is no road as we would define it.  There are streets, but they consist of dried mud and dirt paths that are easier to navigate on foot rather than by car due to the excess of pot holes and uneven ground.  Second, the houses range from cinderblocks with cement and tin roofs to wooden structures that are surrounded by barbed wire fences.  People are everywhere and thriving.  Naked babies run from one house to the next, while a group of middle-aged men is intensely slapping dominoes on their legless table (they hold it up with their knees).  The younger men are repairing or tearing apart old motorbikes.  You see, the living, breathing community of Cienfuegos is not a dump, it just happens to be right next to one.  The vertedero (landfill) looms on the horizon, and gives a new sentido (meaning) to “eternal flame.”  The community depends on it, despite the fact that it is most likely also the cause for many of its problems.  The men taking apart the motorbikes spend their days tearing up anything that they can get their hands on for precious parts and metals.  But the toughest job (the job that Niños con una Esperanza was founded to prevent) is the dumpster diving.  We’re not talking about picking up a McDonald’s burger from your roommate’s desk; we’re talking about literally going through the trash by digging through it. This job is given to the youngsters of the area, because they’re smaller, more limber, and can easily get to places that many adults can’t.  Mostly boys, they scour the dump to make a few pesos, and develop a dog-eat-dog mentality.

As you can imagine, this is dangerous work.  They risk life and limb everyday.  They are burned, cut, and bruised, and occasionally, they die.  Two Saturday’s ago, one kid got stuck and asphyxiated.  We’ll come back to that.  Niños con una Esperanza is a school designed to keep children out of the dump and in school.  While it’s not easy to do in a community that is literally centered on the dump, there are over two hundred kids enrolled in the school.  The school was founded in 2003 and is an evangelical community school run by a pastor (Pablo) and his wife (Elisabeth).  My role there has been teaching a class of music and sports every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.  While I could go on and on about my experiences in the classroom and with the kids, I’m sure many of my anecdotes will find their way into my blog, so let’s get back to kid who passed away two weeks ago.

You see, I had understood the danger in the dump, but reality tends to hit you a little bit harder when you’re more emotionally involved.  I was pretty much in a state of shock, but the kids just went about their business.  That’s what they do, they’re kids.  So I followed, continued my classes and kept chugging along.  However, last Thursday the D.R. press showed up.  Now, I really have little to no knowledge of the Dominican media, but let’s just say that this experience gave me an otherwise unforeseeable insight into their operations.  Everything was pretty normal at first.  The initial news group that showed up interviewed Pablo and Elisabeth a few times and the kids had a few shots to be interviewed as well.  The second group was a little more high-tech, and went for the multi-angle approach, but they also asked the kids to look more saddened and as if it were a day of suffering.  I’m not one to judge, but it was pretty clearly manufactured material, and for a journalist to ask a kid to “put on a sad face” is not really considered good journalism.  While I have been aware of the manipulation in media that has been around ever since the concept of media existed (see: propaganda and gossip since the beginning of time), it was really odd for me to see such a clear example of twisting an environment to fit one’s needs.  The third group didn’t ask anything of the kids except for a few interviews, because by that time the kids we’re eating their snacks, and no matter how awesome of a leader you are, there is no way you can get a hundred kids to be quiet and solemn when they have muffins and milk in their hands.  Instead, they interviewed the sister of the kid and asked her to take them to her house.  Normally, I wouldn’t have seen this as out of the ordinary, but the same girl had been refusing interviews all day, and was pretty much forced into speaking (which she did very little of). 

Case in point: I learned quite a bit on Thursday, and I hope that this little excerpt of everyday life in my community has given you a more accurate perception of what I signed up for.  More importantly, I hope you were able to realize that while I tend to make it seem like it is all fun and games here, this semester is ultimately designed for me to serve and for me to learn.

Peace out, and God bless,

Chris

(PS, since when did I start signing my blog posts…?)