Presenting ... Mari Leydy!

Lights, camera, action!  Leydy, as we affectionately call her (pronounced like the English “lady”) is our shining star, our concert vocalist, our award-winning actress, and the life of the party that is 2^nd grade, and a day without her is like a day without the sun’s warm rays.  She comes into school every day with a tight hug, a wide smile and beautiful flowers for me.  She is a lover through and through, and meets the day and all of those around her with an open heart, despite how difficult yesterday may have been.  She is sugar and spice and everything nice and 100% girly-girl. 

Leydy was one of the first children I met on our visit to her village Pancho Mateo before I began teaching her in first grade last year.  She, Wilson, and Manuela were to be my students and I soaked up our first interactions like a sponge.  Of all the little ones parading around us, Leydy became attached literally and emotionally within a very short period of time and wouldn’t let go of my hand the entire visit! 

Teaching her, mentoring her, discipling her, and building a relationship with her over this past year and two months has been rewarding, challenging, adventuresome, and hilarious.  Like most of the other students in my class, she is packed full of personality, almost bursting with it, as if it can’t all be contained in her tiny little body.  She struggles some academically, mostly due to her difficulty with concentration.  The little joy and entertainment she finds in everything around her can make it hard to focus on lessons.  But the Lord has been faithful in the classroom and it is evident that her learning is important to Him as we have seen much progress lately.  She and another new student have been given the opportunity to be pulled out of whole group instruction to practice specific academic concepts with Profe Imani, and Leydy has even been able to help that new student complete various exercises!  Her “spiciness” can sometimes be manifest as defiance to authority, as she is very self-aware and extremely passionate, but the Lord is softening that tendency too, and after prayer and much self-reflection, her repentance in the end is impacting and sincere.  We could all stand to learn to repent as she repents.

Mari Leydy is a very beautiful little girl, taking after her Haitian mother Katerine (“Kati” – we’re all about nicknames here!).  Her older brother Miguel Angel (“Migue”) is in 3^rd grade with Profe Johan and little Carlos Miguel is in Pre-K 4 with Profe Bella.  Katerine’s husband, a Dominican named Miguel (“Miguelito” o “Pilu”) owns a barber shop in Pancho Mateo and Katerine stays busy cleaning, cooking, working at the Banca, and taking care of those three high-energy kiddos.  The Garcia family is incredibly special to us and we are so very thankful that God brought them to Makarios years ago. 

If I’m one day called to leave this beautiful place and teach other children somewhere else, I will miss so very much about Leydy including her many songs that she sings consciously and unconsciously, her contagious laugh, her spontaneous applause when she approves of a lesson I teach in class and her heartfelt, crocodile tears.  She has single-handedly made me excited to someday be the mother of a little girly-girl.  

In the above picture, Leydy is holding a shiny star that was her costume and part in our end-of-year play that we put on for the parents in May.  Mostly people would choose to present the story Jesus’s birth at Christmas, but our second grade class felt it was something worth celebrating year-round and acted it out for the May program.  Leydy fittingly played the part of the star that led the wise men to Jesus and gave an unforgettable performance, proudly holding the star over her head and shouting to them “Come ON!  Follow me, he’s over HERE!”  I love Leydy very much and would appreciate your continued prayers for our little star – specifically for her academic advancement and for God to work in the lives of her family members.  If you would like to support my work teaching Leydy, please click on the following link to give a tax-deductible one-time donation or to become a monthly supporter: 
 https://secure.etransfer.com/Makarios/donate.cfm

Meet Martin!

My Dear Friends and Family,

I know, I know.  It’s June.  But I won’t waste your time, energy, and attention spans on apologies and excuses.  I shall instead dive right into content and pray that you’ll pardon my delay in updating and that you’ve maintained interest in my endeavors here! 

In keeping with the theme of themed posts, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of my first grade class, that is, first graders headed to second grade as we recently completed our school year (more on the end-of-year fun and festivities later!).  Though every single one of these kiddos is equally as special as Manuela, I can’t make every post as lengthy as hers or I’ll lose my readership, so I’ll strive to keep these short and sweet – just a blurb with fun facts!  It was an honor to teach these students this year, who ended up teaching me just as much, so without further ado, I present to you all, the rest of the first grade class of the Makarios School 2011 – 2012:

Meet Martin Paulino, the winner of the “Most Respectful Student Award” at end of the year ceremonies for first grade.  This was well-deserved for little Martin, who arrived every day compliant and mild-mannered, flashing his shy smile every now and then to melt our hearts.  Martin lives in Tamarindo, the batey that surrounds the Makarios School, and spends the majority of his time outside of school with his abuela, or grandmother.  His father works at one of our favorite local eateries El Garaje and is just as quiet and respectful as his son.  Martin enjoys math and playing basketball at recess, and his best friend is Alturo, who also lives in Tamarindo.  He also possesses the remarkable talent of having kept his pet fish that we gave him as a prize for good behavior alive ALL YEAR!  He faithfully feeds it oatmeal every day.

  

Martin is pictured here with Profe Kelvin, with whom he formed a special connection this past year.  Kelvin also grew up in Tamarindo and, noting Martin’s shyness at the beginning of the school year, shared with him that he also, as a young boy, was often nervous and shy in school but that once he was able to overcome the fear of initiating conversation he made tons of friends that he still spends time with today!  This helped Martin to feel more comfortable reaching out to first grade students from the other villages Chichigua and Tamarindo (This photo was taken on one of our beach days - note the moat to their castle on the left!). 

It was an honor to teach Martin, and be taught valuable lessons by him as well –lessons in patience, kindness, and being slow to anger and quick to forgive.  To support my work teaching Martin and our other unforgettable Makarios students here in the DR, please visit the following and click Sarah VanHoose in the field that says "apply my gift to":  https://secure.etransfer.com/Makarios/donate.cfm.  Thank you for reading, supporting, praying, encouraging, and living this experience with us!  Blessings to all! 

My Manuela

It’s January of 2012 and I’m scribing once again from the Miami International Airport. I’ve decided to set up a permanent office here for blogging: café con leche, Cuban sandwich, feet stretched across airport chairs, all very professional.

Distant memories of a smiling but sleep-deprived version of me come floating into memory as I think back to that August day of my move to the DR, my heart exploding with the excitement of the unknown. Now, after a rich and wonderful Christmas with family in the US, I’m headed back to the island – to my new home. And though I feel so incredibly different from the girl that sat in this terminal on August 27^th, I chuckle as I look at my reflection in the glass and its eerie similarity to the one I saw last time I was here; my hair is still a tangled mess (when it looks like this, my best Dominican friends tell me “You look like a bruja!”), the same purple sacs are hanging under my eyes from complete lack of sleep (last minute packer!), fighting through the jitters to double-fist caffeinated beverages, and to complete the visual, I’m always the chick with luggage issues. On the way it was a pretty rag-tag bag I’d found in the garage the night before I left that didn’t roll, only drug. This time it’s 27 carry-on bags that I’m forced to consolidate into one “personal item” (because the aforementioned rag-tag bag is now growing seven different colors of mold).

I also blush with shame as I realize how few blog posts were made in-between these two Miami Airport visits – praying for diligence and consistency with blogging next semester, and to let go of the impossible idea that every post needs to be a Pulitzer Prize-winning 10,000 words. I’ve lived and learned that the hours upon end that I’m awaiting to compellingly chronicle every unique experience I’ve had leave me with … nothing, as extra time doesn’t just appear out of thin air for us. I have to make it and I have to accept that there is only time for what there’s time for (and aside from that every single one of you is sure to support any movement in the direction of Sarah having to use less words to communicate, verdad? Tell the truth!).

Thus, in the name of conciseness and consistency, I’m fighting the urge to utilize my layover time to recap the entire semester and Christmas break for you at once, including the roller coaster ride of emotions, and detailed descriptions of every single person we’ve met. Instead, in the coming weeks, I’m going to give little themed posts a try, focusing on a special part of something God has done thus far in each one, maybe featuring special people or events at school, or more abstract ideas. I hope you all enjoy this form of re-cap and I’m so very excited to be able to share my life, heart, and experience with you – in healthy little doses. Thank you for reading this blog!

That being said, I would like to dedicate this first themed blog post to Manuela, a student in my first grade class. Anyone who’s ever met Manuela needs no reminder of her unique and unforgettable character. And for those who haven’t had the pleasure, meet Manuela! (See photos above of she and her little sister and older brother, also students at Makarios, and wearing her birthday present, a blue flower pin for her hair.)

Like many teachers that attach easily to their students, I’ve grown to love them all equally in different ways and I’m blessed to have them love me back. Choosing to start with describing Manuela before any other students isn’t meant to show favoritism. I want to tell you about her because she was the first miracle we experienced in our classroom.

When I first met Manuela in the small village of Pancho Mateo before school started, I was struck by how tall she was and how beautiful her almond-shaped eyes were. But unlike the other children who took my hand and led me through the maze of houses in the batey, she ran away from me, laughing and spinning wildly with her tongue sticking out. As she’d fly by she didn’t have too much to say. That’s Manuela, always running in circles around others who walk straight. I was excited to have her in my class, anxious to develop the potential of her energetic spirit.

By the time school started I could snag her out of a full-on sprint for a hug every once in a while. But very soon after the start of the year, Kelvin, Belizeur, and I could see what the consequences of those wild, unrestrained behavioral tendencies were -they didn’t always coincide with being part of a controlled, tranquil learning environment. I was nervous to utilize classroom management techniques that would squelch her personality but there came a time in which we realized that Manuela’s behavior was intensifying daily, overstepping even her previous limits of wildness. The cycle would start with silliness and disrespect, then rejection of reprimand for that, and then it was almost as if something would come over her, troubling her as she worked herself into a frenzy, shouting and writhing around, eventually exhausted and overwhelmed by her own outbursts.

A veteran public school teacher, I racked my brain for every approach I could remember to reach her, to help to calm down, show respect, and to be able to protect her learning from her self-destructiveness. I’m sure along the way I made 1,001 mistakes, making so many futile attempts at employing this or that pedagogy or methodology. I am so lucky to be part of a team who stepped up to help with Manuela whenever and however they could. I remember a day when no less than seven employees were on the stairs of the school with her, trying to calm her down and encouraging her to apologize to the Principal for hollering obscenities at him in Creole. This had come as the explosion from sparks of several days prior when she and I working through issues in the classroom, outside of the classroom, in the restroom, in the office, on the playground, lying on the floor, climbing on tables, jumping up and down. That day on the stairs, I shrank back and sat in the corner and just watched. I wanted to quit. At that moment, I wanted any other position here with his organization than being the first grade teacher, than being Manuela’s teacher.

But our God is good and trustworthy, and in my cowardice, my shrinking back, he wrapped me up and told my heart to trust Him. Trust Him. I had let idealization of teaching children in poverty and the reality of the difficulty of our ministry cause me to want to quit, to not want to do His work, not confident in His ability to bring a solution, or that there was possibly a greater purpose for this experience. I was ready to come and do His work to my preferred level of discomfort. But Manuela is His child and we are here to fight for her turning her face toward her Father, who can soothe and soften and calm her spirit. From that tearful moment on the stairs I couldn’t let go of the word “trust”. I had shown a lack of trust and Manuela was showing me a lack of trust. I needed to foster trust with her, which she values above all else. And that would only take time. The trust that develops when two people experience something difficult together. The trust that is formed when day after day, meltdown after meltdown, I can greet her with a smile on my face and love in my heart for her. And passing through those very situations, trust began to grow, as did a closeness that is now incredibly powerful.

Manuela was more than worth the fight. After that awful afternoon on the stairs, Kelvin, Belizeur and I began to pray for her daily. Other staff members prayed for her. We prayed over her chair in the classroom. We all prayed for trust to build between us amidst the changes she’s experienced this school year with new teachers and the ongoing hardships she faces everyday living life in poverty. We sang hymns in moments of behavioral difficulty.

The change was hard to pinpoint chronologically but was nevertheless dramatic when we suddenly realized that a week had gone by since she’d been to the Principal’s office. I had promised her at the start of school, throwing any incentive I could think of at her for good behavior, that if she went a full week without getting in trouble I’d walk her from the Makarios School to public school, which she attends in the afternoon after leaving us. Of course, that Friday that her prize was to be claimed she’d left her public school uniform at home. But to keep my promise I walked her to Pancho Mateo to pick it up, and then all the way back to public school. It was a very special walk for us. Hand in hand, she showed me how to cross the river to the batey of Pancho, rolling up my pants and pointing out where to step in places it was most shallow. She knows this because she does it every day to walk to school herself.

These days, Manuela is shining. Academically, she was in the middle of the class at the start of the school year but she’s advancing quickly, becoming one of our top students, putting syllables together to read words and very quick in math. She’s taking great pride in her good behavior and progress. And though every day’s not perfect, she has many more good days than bad now, and hasn’t visited the Principal, other than good visits, in a long while.

I look forward to our walks in the afternoons now. After a hectic day I value the time to speak to her one-on-one, and listen to what’s on her young heart. Sometimes we sing, because we have the same favorite song out of those we sing with the children for devotionals.

I love my little Manuela so very much, and I am so grateful for her. I thank God for our experience together because through her He has revealed yet another piece of Himself to me. I understand a little more about unconditional love, a love that surpasses mistakes, frustration, sin, and disobedience. I understand how heartbreaking it must be to watch us knowingly make bad decisions, and then to share in our sadness with us, as we realize the consequences of what we’ve done and feel truly repentant for it. I understand the leaps and bounds a relationship can grow and strengthen when one trusts another, as she now trusts me and as I learn to trust Him, seeing Him come through for me yet again in this situation.

It is my prayer for my Manuela, that in my mercies for her which are new every morning, she sees her Father, whose mercies are new for us every morning. Please pray for God to continue to grant me the strength and spirit to show her His love every day, and please remember to pray for Manuela, and the rest of our unforgettable children!

A long time coming ...

Dearest Family and Friends,

Saludos! Two brief confessions before I proceed: 1) At this point in transition and assimilation into daily life here, it's very difficult to not speak Spanglish (as in, I originally wrote as a greeting and then erased ,"Dearest Familia y Amigos") - my brain seems split right now and tires a bit from switching back and forth between the two languages and sometimes my words fall through the cracks of separation into an alphabet soup where they're all jumbled and some words start in Spanish and end in English, and vice versa. I say this to warn you/beg your pardon if it slips into typing subconsciously - perdoname :-) 2) I apologize for so much time having gone by since my last update. I confess that I was hoping to sustain the time and energy to continue to create lengthy, literary updates that would blow you away and make you feel like you're right here with me every moment. After a month and a half of living here, I'm finally really living, and I'm realizing that unfortunately, there won't be any possible way to take everyone along for everything with me, but that's been hard to let go of - I wanted to put you all in my pocket and pull you out to show you everything so badly. That's how much I'm soaking up living here, the good, the not-so-good, the in-between - it's so tangible and flavorful. All that to say that I'm sure you're ok with shorter posts and probably more pictures, right? I can do that. I'm raising my right hand to type and typing with my left to make it a formal agreement: "I Sarah, promise to update more frequently, using less words so you'll actually read all of my posts, adding more pictures and settling for them not being travel-magazine worthy."

You're so not believing me already because my "brief confessions" were a super long paragraph. Have faith though ...

School has started! My first grade class has 16 endearing, hilarious, unforgettable students that I already have a deep love for. It's amazing how important to me they are already. It's such an interesting dynamic, teaching children of poverty ; they're incredibly easy to love because they hand their hearts to you from day one. No pretenses, just raw emotion and truth. There are certainly challenges in teaching them that I hadn't foreseen in romanticizing the entire experience before I came, but the Lord knew that ahead of time and ordained that this overflowing love be birthed from the first day of school, to conquer all of those challenges in His name; difficulties such as altering classroom management and discipline structure specific to this population, limited resources as we're living and teaching in poverty, and the spiritual battleground that this their hearts as we introduce them to Christ. What a blessing to have Belizeur and Kelvin (classroom assistants for first grade) in the room with us at all times, helping in every way possible. Their overwhelming hearts for service and love for the children is an encouragement to me every day.

Some students have had some difficulty adjusting to the changes in staff, missing former Makarios teachers who have made a lasting impact on their lives, and some have simply had difficulty adjusting to a more structured daily schedule compared to their home life over the summer. Despite how these difficulties manifest throughout the day, the students come in every morning with squeals of sheer joy just to be arriving at school. Our staff devotional lasts from 8:30 - 8:45, at which time the students are permitted to come into the building and have 15 minutes of recess before songs and prayer. We let out a welcome whistle to wave them in and they come tearing through the field with hugs, high fives, and smiles for everyone, making us so excited to start another day --- the embodiment of His mercies being new every morning - God's mercy for us, our mercy for the students, the students' mercy for us, and our mercy for one another as staff.

With varied levels of ability and prior knowledge in our class, we're working through a comprehensive review of the alphabet, specifically focusing on the vowels, and we're excited to work with consonants next week. We capped off our vowel review with a vowel parade throughout the building on Friday (it was a big hit, I'm thinking we'll parade once a week)! In math we've reviewed quite a bit as well - number recognition, 2D figures, counting, addition, and more. Next week we're building a giant number line with paper plates and searching for buried treasure hidden under different quantities.

Our students brush their teeth every day, and we all enjoy lunch together after a student has blessed the food. No matter whose turn it is to pray, a special blessing is always lifted up for Odilsia and Monica, our "cocineras" who prepare "la bandera" every day. "La bandera" ("the flag") refers to some type of meat, rice, and beans, which is the typical Dominican lunch (specific options vary but those are the necessities). Another ridiculously cool detail about Makarios School food - we've got fruit trees in our backyard to add to lunch or breakfast - the freshest of fresh bananas, right off the tree!

I am so very happy to teach at the Makarios School. I can't communicate accurately what a blessing it is to have been brought here to teach these particular children in this manner with these co-workers --- it is truly a divine fulfillment of a dream that's been a long time coming. There's much more where this came from concerning school but I'm determined to make you read this entire post so I'll move on to life outside of school ...

We have a home! My lovely and talented roomie Imani Folkes and I have found a cute, quaint little place on ... well actually our street doesn't have a name. It truly doesn't. But the great thing about our hometown of Montellano is that everything is referred to as relative to something else, so we simply say "the apartment on top of Luis's apartment" and it's understood exactly where we live. (It was even put into the data system as such at the internet office when we signed up for wireless.) We're very happy here, feeling more comfortable every day as we make it into a home. We painted this week and now we're bursting with exciting blues and greens, and we're thankful to report that we have our necessary appliances and feel like "real people" who can cook at home, wash clothes and keep food cold.

As two single girls moving in and getting set up to live life for two years, there was much heavy lifting, assembly, and logistics that we were lost on us, and we couldn't have done it without the help of our teammates and our new Dominican friends who dropped everything they were doing to help us get organized. I hope to be as helpful to any newcomers in the future and to serve others in the way that is so well exemplified by the people in our lives here. Chris and Erika Snapp, who we just recently had to say goodbye to as they headed back home to the states, Andy and Lauren Upton, our fellow solteras Miranda and Dena, the Menolds, the Miles, and our Dominican friends galore have all made our struggle their struggle and have come alongside us to help with anything we've needed, giving much grace along the way.

Outside of school we've been enjoying decorating our apartment, community dinners and Bible studies with Makarios staff, cheering for our new friends playing in local basketball games, making friends in the community, and attending church at Templo Biblico, just a 5-minute walk from our home. At this point we feel completely comfortable taking public transportation anywhere we need to go - it's wild that that's already become the norm - jumping on the back of a moto and flying from one end of town to the other, squeezing into a carrito or a gua gua to jet from city to city, 4 to a seat, no seatbeats, windows down letting the breeze in ... This is our life here.

I am continually overwhelmed by Dominican hospitality. A walk through town can turn into visits with three or four neighbors, pulling out chairs for us and offering whatever they've just made to eat or drink, telling us the latest joke or "chiste" they've heard or asking about Makarios and commending us for working with their children. We try to explain that the pleasure and blessing is ours and try to explain that their welcoming us with open arms brings us such joy.

There are 17,000 more thoughts to impart and stories to tell, but to fulfill the promise of not making this a forever-long post I'll wrap it up and post some pictures to give faces to these people you'll read about. Please know that I think of you all often, love you very much, and pray for you from here in the Dominican Republic. If I may toss out some prayer requests for this next phase of life: please pray for our continued progress in instructing, guiding, and loving our students, for the continued uniting of our team as a whole, for the relationships we've already built and will build in the future to be Christ-centered and glorifying to God, and for the motivation and energy to stay as connected as possible with you all.

Thank you from the bottom of mi corazon for believing in this and for being a part of God's work here. Each day of life here I realize that it was part of His plan all along to call me here, and that my arrival, which has brought about such revelation as to who God is and His heart for the nations, has been a long time coming (as has this post :-))

God bless you all!

Lovestruck Sarah

10 Days, Infinite Gifts

It feels like it was months ago that I stepped off the plane, winding my way through the scaffolding of the Puerto Plata Airport to the loud welcome of the three-piece merengue band (who maintains a full-time gig there, greeting the island’s newest arrivals). I can only assume that it feels that way because of the many experiences I’ve had already that have captivated me, demanding my full attention and causing me to engage all of my senses. Most of these nights I’ve slipped off to sleep so peacefully, thankful for the beautiful exhaustion that comes from days filled with learning about this place, these people, and how to become part of this world.

Thus if it weren’t for casually glancing up at the calendar every few days, or the reminders of my more organized teammates, I may not have realized that it’s only been a little over a week since I landed. It’s been a little over a week since I was welcomed into the Makarios family by a host of big smiles and warm hugs (literally warm hugs - they’d been waiting an hour for me outside the airport because my flight was delayed). A little over a week since I devoured my first Dominican meal. A little over a week since I met my first Dominican spider. A little over a week since my big move to my new home.

Life here is tangible, colorful, and full, and the experiences I’ve had in my short time here I have felt and tasted and heard and seen so deeply. I should say too that while expounding upon the way I’m taking in my new life I certainly don’t mean to discount the rich and meaningful experiences I’ve been blessed to have before I got here. It’s just that, even in a matter of ten days, I’m seeing the fruit of intentionally placing myself in an environment in which certain privileges, comforts, and distractions have been removed. That fruit comes in two forms: helping me to become more aware of the unmet needs of fellow human beings, and helping me to learn to appreciate the gifts our Father has given us all to enjoy, available to me, you, and everyone here – gifts that by monetary standards are inexpensive or even free, that in reality are worth all the money in the world.

The most important gift that we’re showered with here: God making Himself available to us and making His presence known here on this island and through interaction with its inhabitants. My team, including Americans Chris and Erika Snapp who are finishing up a two-year term as host couple, who are having to say their goodbyes while getting us situated, the Menold family, who will be the host family for this next two years, and the Miles family, who will serve for the next two years as Principal and Assistant Principal, the Upton family, here for another year as our school doctor and facilities manager, my three fellow “solteras” (single females), and permanent leadership staff Sharla and Chuck, can testify to God’s presence here in the D.R. and are an incredible inspiration through their submission to His call to live here in community. We have spent much time already here on the roof of the Makarios house (where we’re all living for the first month; it’s the house that was built to host short-term groups, and from where I’m writing to you now!) worshipping together and talking about how to best live out the gospel here. Our Dominican and Haitian team members demonstrate incredible, steadfast, unabashed faith. They were so very excited to meet us and to tell us they had been praying for and eagerly awaiting our arrival. We have attended two services at the local church in Montellano called “Templo Biblico” and were greeted with such sincerity, and a reverence that points our entire existence here back to God’s will. I was eager to tell Pastor Amaury how much I enjoyed the first service while we were talking outside afterward and he simply shook my hand, closed his eyes, smiled, and said “Dios es fiel. Dios es fiel.” (God is faithful.) That pretty much sums it up, Amaury.

Another glorious gift we’ve been given here that Dominicans execute so beautifully is the gift of community. Our team members and new friends have stretched out across cultural and emotional borders to reach out and welcome us with open arms and it’s made for the start of fostering great relationships. We already feel remarkably comfortable around one another and they are very proud of our connection and very intentional about friendship. Locals that we’ve interacted with display such hospitality. No matter the time, no matter what they were busy doing before you came walking by, if they see you passing on the street they bring out their best chairs and insist you come sit and talk for a while. They’ll offer you the very food they were eating or to serve you the best of whatever they have. It’s humbling, and certainly a practice I would like to continue in the U.S. In relationships with Americans on the team, it has been so easy build community as well – girls’ time, family time, everyone time, chatting, running, studying together, praying together, going into town, grocery shopping, killing large and dangerous insects, and much, much, more. It brings such joy to our interactions to know our hearts are aligned for our purpose.

The gift of sustenance is certainly valued and quite important, and we’ve been well taken care of here. (Dad, re-read the following statement three times: I AM OK!!! J ) Dominican food is a beautiful thing and I’ve already adopted quite a taste for it. I even have my own favorite restaurant in town, “Anjuyli’s”, where I can get my new favorite dish every day of the week: pollo guisado, white rice and beans, a sliced avocado from the fruit stand across the street, and jugo natural. Balín is my burger guy, and today I made friends with Fefa, who sells tostados. She wrapped it up to go for me so I could jump on a moto on the way to a village for a meeting. One more piece of excellent news regarding food: for 20 pesos a day (around 50 cents) I can eat what Odilsia, our Haitian school cook, makes for lunch, so there will always be an option to have a hot meal at school. For my friends that have had the pleasure of frequenting Dominican Joe’s, you can vouch for the fuss that’s made over dark Dominican coffee. For those who haven’t tried it, the four most important words in this entire lengthy blog: Get. Dominican. Coffee. NOW. I’m throwing this out in love. I want what’s best for you.

It’s obviously hot, with a more direct heat than I was expecting, being much closer to the equator than I’ve ever been. The humidity honestly levels the playing field a bit with regards to sweating, which is pretty comforting. I was always a “sweater” in the states but these days, I can look to the left and right of me, and one of my teammates is sure to be sweating it out with me. We encourage one another to drink water, find the shade and the breeze, and congregate here on the roof as soon as the sun goes down.

Transportation deserves its own post. It’s a gift to be able to find ways to get from place to place here, with other little gifts in the form of hilarity squeezed in to every public transportation experience we’ve had so far. I’ve enjoyed finding the comedy in all of them, and striking up conversations with strangers since we’re siting so close to one another. Our options are: 1) motoconchos (little motorcycles or scooters), driven around by a somewhat structured cohort of professionals, that you simply hop on the back of. This is, by far, my favorite. I’ve loved being in the open air and feeling the breeze from the ride when it’s hot. 2) public cars, or “carritos”, which normally seat three in the front, and four in the back, including the driver. It’s common practice for someone to scoot all the way forward in the back seat so that three others can physically fit in with them. The Haitian woman I met yesterday had a pitcher of hot soup she was excited to tell me about and trying not to spill as she scooted up to make room for us. 3) Large vans, or “gua guas” that “comfortably” hold 15, but this weekend to and from the beach exceptions were made and we were 20. Recounting the stories in my head that we’ve already lived that would take much more detail to tell has helped me to make an executive decision: one public transport post a week. It’s too much funniness not to share. I’ll do my best to have a photo to accompany it, so you can get in on the action.

We’ve also been blessed with the gift of shelter and the opportunity to stay in the beautiful Makarios house while we’re getting situated this month and looking for apartments. Our school is located in Montellano, a suburb of Puerto Plata, and the Makarios house is in a neighborhood just outside of Montellano called Los Ciruelos. We have running water, comfortable, a huge kitchen and large tables to eat communally with one another. It’s a completely normal occurrence to lose city power here for a few hours in the day, so several places have inverters or generators, which allows us to do what’s necessary until the power comes back on. It’s made for such a refreshing appreciate on mornings when we wake up and have power, internet, and city water – we know it’s going to be a great day. Despite those petty inconveniences of sometimes having to go without, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the peace of sleeping with the windows open and feeling the Caribbean breeze lull me off to dreamland, to the tune of soft bachata music coming from the home of a distant neighbor.

The most demonstrative gift that I’ve been so lucky to receive and that I still can’t fathom getting to partake in for the next two years, has been interaction with the children here. Speaking to Arturo who I met in the street leaving Balin’s burger grill about how excited we are that he’s coming back to school, watching Son do backflips down dirty streets of his Haitian village, and hugging Regina for the tenth time in the five minutes since we met before she left with her mother, confirm that I’m absolutely supposed to be right here, doing exactly this. Aside from running into students in town that my team has introduced me to, we have made visits to two villages, Haitian “bateyes”, from which the poorest of our students come. We have sat and talked with their families who brought out broken chairs so we could sit and rest and kissed us on the cheek to thank us, played their favorite games of hitting whatever is found to be thrown with sticks and wheeling tires around, and just hugged and looked them in the eye, assuring them that it’s going to be a wonderful school year. I have plans to return to the villages next week and I see it being a place I can frequently be found outside of school. Such joy, such hospitality, such richness walking through a shantytown where the streets really do have no name. My students don’t have shoes (Makarios provides shoes for them to wear to school), and I can close my eyes and see their little bare feet scurrying to keep up as we went from house to house, making sure parents knew what day classes are starting. I know that not every part of this job will be easy and that it’s not supposed to be, but visiting these villages and meeting almost half of my new students brings me so much excitement when thinking about this year and the potential that I know they already have.

Looking back over my last post I can testify to the fact that I’m still living and will continue to live in paradox during my time here. But I think the idea will be to let these amazing gifts carry me through the lows, the “yuck ducks”. These and so many, many more gifts have been poured on us already in ten days and I know there are more to come. Thank you all so very much for keeping us in your prayers and thinking about us. I miss you all “muchísimo” and please know that I’m thinking of and praying for you here from across the sea.

I’ll check in soon to update you all on the progress of preparing our school and classrooms for the first day, which is September 20^th! I love you all!

Lovestruck Sarah