Homeless in Higuëy

My current domicile is a hotel room that I share with Brandi, another teacher in the program. In an elaborate but frustrating game of "pass the gringas" we were told by each successive Ministry of Education representative that we met that the next one would have details on our living arrangements. As it stands Brandi and I are camping out in the hotel until the Ministry lawyer "finalizes" the contract for our apartment. Some key words I have learned in my time here so far are that everything happens sometimes or eventually. Sometimes you just have to roll with the punches and eventually things will turn out. It's a good thing I was blessed with patience; I have needed it in abundance these first few weeks!

Here's the rundown for my new hometown of Higüey...

According to the travel guide (my Bible for all destinations Dominican for the time being), Higuëy is an unremarkable town of 150,000 situated "on the way to somewhere better". For a girl who spent her last six years in an idyllic Iowa town of 5,000 (which reached a whopping 8,000 when college classes were in session), I would be bluffing if I said that the size of Higuëy didn't overwhelm me.  The main draw of the city is it's basilica, pictured to the right. It truly is a beautiful haven within the city with a mile-long loop used by walkers and joggers in the mornings and--heaven to this OCD perfectionist--symmetrically arrayed palm trees. On January 21st, people from all over the country (and Haiti as well) flocked to the city to celebrate the Día de la Virgen de Altagracia. Brandi and I walked through the basilica grounds as curious onlookers to the festivities; people from all walks of life (but, most noticeably, the destitute) were gathered to celebrate the miracles of the Virgin and to catch a glimpse of the president, who attended one of the masses. In the week leading up to this holiday, Higüey was home to an enormous public works project: street crews paved the entire highway leading to the basilica in the hopes of impressing the president. If only the crews could be persuaded to rebuild some of the side streets!

Hopefully the rest of the year won't seem anticlimactic after the big holiday. One thing I know: teaching will keep me extraordinarily  busy. I have one morning class (8am-noon) with 28 students and one evening class (6-10pm) with forty (!) students. But more on that later. Right now I will leave you, dear reader, with another Dominican modismo which is this: Dominicans do not refer to themselves as "hardworking." Instead they say say "se la busca como un toro" which, loosely translated, means (s)he looks (for it) like a bull. Now all my fellow Midwesterners with a Protestant work ethic have a new way to describe themselves!

Saludos until next time,
Kirsten