Bunting, and other assorted events.

You may have guessed from the post title that this one's a little bit about bunting.

More to the point, about a craft/activity afternoon I led with a group of local children where we all made bunting.

And paper moustaches on sticks, but that comes later.

As does the bunting I'm afraid. For now I'll have to leave you hanging like the paper flags on the wall. (Geddit? No? Okay.)

I'll attempt to stop writing like such a twerp now, and move on to something more serious and hopefully semi-coherent.

But before any of that, a picture of the Project's ducklings to put you all in a pleasant frame of mind:

Aw.

My time so far in the Dominican Republic (a whole month already) has already taught me a lot.

Not so much about 'me' - although that one is being muddled through too, and a key lesson there is about the use of the pronoun;

*deep breath*

It shouldn't be about 'me' at all - society's built on the mindset of 'me' and 'what can I get?' and 'what's in it for me?' or 'why should I?' and in my humble, sorely uneducated and unauthoritative opinion that's where a lot of the worlds problems lie... we're all too bothered about ourselves and what we can gain, often at the expense of others.

And if we maybe started looking outwards even just a little bit more, and treating others in the way that we think we deserve, then perhaps there wouldn't be such a great imbalance between the rich and the poor, the child that gets an education and the child that has to beg on the street, the woman that fears the birth of a child could kill her and the woman in the private suite complete with jacuzzi bath and classical music.

But, don't take my word for it obviously. Take God's.

They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.

1 Timothy 18-19 (ESV)

Now, I know that many of you will be reading this and will have inwardly cringed at the mention of God, and the whole quoting-the-bible-at-you deal. But honestly, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye (please don't) a relationship with God; a free forever, open, unlimited data streaming, and no loss of signal contact ever, contract with Him?

Best. Thing. Ever.

It doesn't matter who you are or what you've done up until this point in your life. In fact, that's what has shaped you and made you, and God loves every ugly, shameful, keep it in the dark and don't feed it after midnight part of you... but if you open up to Him and let Him do his thing in your life, you get a new start and a chance to be the person you've always dreamed of, with a whole heavenly support team behind you all the way, screaming and yelling and fist pumping for you to keep going, cheering every time you do something different, a little bit less about you and more about others, and fully prepared to give you a spiritual hug and a whispered 'we'll do it better next time, together' when you don't quite reach the mark.

Because the Three-In-One-in-You is infinitely better than having to go it alone.

And the Three-In-One-in-Me, I can assure you, is exponentially better than me, myself and I.

I'll stop writing in never ending run-on sentences and confusing combinations now, and get back on topic.

And for a second, I'd appreciate it if you removed your view from whatever screen you're reading from, and took a look around you.

Done?


Does your view look anything like this?

Now, it's not a great picture, but it's enough to get an idea. Corrugated iron sheets,  wooden boards and breeze blocks cobbled together to resemble a house. This isn't a rare thing over here. Last week, we went to visit a woman named Yolanda, who had just given birth to her second son, Justin. We went to donate some clothes for her older son, and some that she could sell on (she sells second hand clothes to make a living), and to check on how she's doing after giving birth again.

Her Caesarean isn't healing properly, and she's at risk of a serious infection if it carries on as it is. They think the six week old baby has some kind of parasite in his digestive system.

There's no such thing as the NHS here. Good healthcare is expensive, and the public hospitals are often rudimentary at best. Yolanda and her two children live in a 2 Bedroom wooden shack which she shares with her Mother. They still cook over an open fire in a tin bucket inside, and live in an overcrowded area which is currently doubling as an insecure building site.

And yet Yolanda is bubbly, and generous, and so grateful for what she has got. Her two sons are absolutely beautiful, she was kind, hospitable and so happy to see us.

I don't know about you, but it made me think.

Yolanda with Gabriel, and me, hogging the baby.

 Yolanda and her family aren't a rare case. There are situations like this on practically every corner, and there are children here that aren't lucky enough to have a parent who can care for them at all.

The Project has the facility to take these kids in, and give them a loving, safe, supportive home, but it doesn't have the regular sponsorship to take them in on a permanent basis. And that's just... naff.

So anyway, that's just an example of how this experience is opening my eyes, and showing how much exactly I have to appreciate, and teaching me how much I have to give.

Relying on the premise that there are still people reading the post at this point, I'll move on to the aforemtioned bunting extravagansa now.

I am an ardent advocate of bunting and it's ability to make things look pretty - as well as being easy to make- so naturally I decided that it was the best activity to do with children who have never really had the chance to mess around with arts and crafts... it's just not something that's on the agenda here.

However, and luckily (?) for all involved, making stuff is always pretty high on my list of things to-do, especially things to-do with kids when there's too much garden for them to dissappear into during hide and seek.

When the kids were first introduced to the glue, paper, sequins, foam bits and pens, they were a little wary. They started slow, and hesitantly; dutifully applying bits to the triangles of paper when suggested. Then the dam broke, especially for this little boy, whose name I cannot attempt to spell correctly, but is pronounced 'yor-yo'

Well, I could attempt to spell it correctly, but it would probably be wrong. Anyway, once he got started he was a bunting making machine. And the others all followed suit too.

And now, to ease the pain on your eyes from all the words, I give you pictures:

And contrary to the expression on the little girls faces, they were having a great time. They just didn't appreciate my sneakiness with the camera.

So, by the end of the day all of the kids had made their own lengths of truly impressive bunting, and had managed to knot themselves in it before being untangled and walked home.

The highlight of my day was watching them run up to their parents and show them what they'd made. It was pure brilliance.

Oh, and of course the paper moustaches. The fact that they all went home holding them to their noses was hilarious.

I'd just like to take this time to say it was windy and I had PVA Glue in my hair.
Also, in honour of the moustaches, Huzzah.

If you've got to this point, thanks for sticking with it. And for that, I leave you with lots of love.

God Bless x

Santo Domingo

Wednesday and Thursday saw me getting a chance to play at being a tourist in Santo Domingo (The Capital city of the Dominican Republic), in order for Pauline to renew her residency.

It's four hours from Sosua by bus, which I was originally envisaging to be one of the poky little minibus things I keep seeing around, with about 50 people crammed inside, 6 on the roof and a goat or chicken wedged in for good measure. Thankfully it wasn't, and I spent four hours in a gloriously air conditioned coach.

We arrived at the bus station to the usual chaos, people trying to sell you stuff, taxi drivers getting you to pick them, and more people trying to sell you stuff.

We picked our taxi driver, and didn't buy anything.

So after a whistlestop tour of the city, our cab driver dropped us off in the colonial zone where our hotel was. (Oh, the hotel. It was lovely.)

The colonial zone is kind of the 'old town' of Santo Domingo, full of history, gorgeous architecture, character and people trying to sell you stuff (anyone see a pattern here?)

A lot of the buildings looked a lot like this.

It's crammed full of all these beautiful old buildings, some that have been preserved, some that are being left to decay. But somehow that just adds to the feel of the place.

Shabby Chic, I'd say.

Anywho, we spent sometime exploring all the history and culture and whatnot, and sure enough we found ourselves attached to a very persistent tour guide, who despite our polite protests, and our determined evasion, wouldn't go away.
\
Wouldn't stop talking either.

There's only so much information a person can take in at one time. Eventually we tipped him to make him leave.

But nevermind. I took some bad pictures of places that looked interesting to me, but are probably those 'had to be there' type images. You're here, and you can see them anyway.




This is one of the gatehouses at the first fort in the D.R. The statue is the patron saint of soldiers or something.

One of the views from the aforementioned fort.



Another view. The wall is where the land used to stop, in Columbus' time.

See the clouds?

Yeah?

It was still roasting hot.

I just liked the look of this place. It had bells.

This might be a colonial palace of some kind. I think it was.

According to our chatty tour guide, this was the first sundial in the D.R. I prefer to think of it as a homage to citrus fruits.

No idea what this place was. But it looked cool.

And that, dear readers, is all of the real cultural information I can provide on the colonial zone of Santo Domingo. Oh, and it had a Hard Rock Cafe, and a tiny Cathedral. And the hotel cafe/restaurant was great.

I hope you feel educated.

The next day saw two hours spent in Immigration whilst Pauline dealt with her residency, and then because we had time to spare, she took me to 'Los Tres Ojos' - 'The Three eyes', which are three underground lakes just outside of the city.

To illustrate, here are some blurry pictures:

Cave. Lake in a Cave.

You can't see from the picture, but those things were deep.

Now, I might have mentioned before the careless way in which many people appear to regard their lives here, but seriously.

There was a man in these caves, approximately 70 years old, wandering around in a pair of speedos.

Hm, I thought, perhaps he likes to take a dip at opportune moments.

\

But noooo, he liked to dive.

And not just dive. I, and a crowd of gawking onlookers, watched as he shimmied and leapt and clung across the walls of one cave, 'til he was about 20 feet of the ground, and 20 metres in and away from everyone.

He saluted said crowd, and dived right in.

I apologise profusely for taking a load of bad pictures, and not getting one of this, but I was too busy clutching the camera to my chest and praying he didn't fall to his death.

But he didn't. He came up to the surface, waved at us all, pulled himself out of the water, and posed like a strongman.

I was too busy gawping to have the presence of mind then either.

Sorry.

I'll just have to leave you all with the mental images.

That was pretty much the end of the trip, apart from seeing the Christopher Columbus lighthouse on the way back to the Bus Station. It didn't look like a lighthouse, it looked like a nuclear missile bunker, but who am I to judge? It was big anyway, and it wasn't covered in white and blue stripes like I believe all the good lighthouses are.

Another four hours on the bus, which involved sleeping and eating fried yukka, then a triumphant return to the Project.

I eat a lot of stuff I've never heard of here.

That's it for now! Love you all

x

Brace yourself, this is a long one...

Okay, I have at last summoned up the enthusiasm to write another blog post. If I can remember what has happened since the last one that is. I may have to fish out my journal to have a look and see.

In fact, I'll do that now.

(If you could pause for a moment in reading this and imagine the perceived time it would take for me to do so)

...

A picture for you all too:

This is just the view from the bottom terrace. It has no relevance.

Right, from where we left off last then...

I've taken a trip into Puerto Plata (the next town over form Sosua) and have been and purchased a load of craft supplies. I'll be planning an activity day for some local children, and games and crafts will be at the top of the agenda. (And if the plan is to make and decorate bunting, will that be such an issue?) But still, I'm looking forward to doing that.

That same afternoon (of July 10th) I had my first experience of fried bananas, chicken and rice for lunch.
I was astounded at the fact that Banana is a vegetable here, and clearly very easily amused.

Pauline took a trip into town, and I stayed at the Project to make a canvas roof for the (large) vegetable garden. Henrri, one of the older boys who often stays at the project, helped me, and together the roof was cut, attached, and was amazingly the right size.

I say amazingly because the tape measure went missing so I had to improvise by tying knots in a bit of string to get the right length, then using stones and dog toys to weigh it down on the lawn to cut the canvas to size.

(The ability to improvise is key here, and in the same tangent my ability as a mime artist is being more finely honed daily. I have just performed a great sketch in order to find out where the pegs and the washing basket are)

Anyway, after this I watched as the other workers did all of the woodwork to create the enclosure for the garden, and was then taken with them to walk the dogs. I've said it before but the area is stunningly beautiful.

And hilly.

You have to go up some steep hills, which is always fun in heat. But I spotted my first snake in a tree! ( I must have looked like such a twerp, getting all excited about a snake in a tree, when all of the Dominican's reacted like someone had pointed out the equivalent of a pigeon in Coventry City Centre. )

The walk was good though, and on the way back Wellington and Chilo spotted some passionfruit growing in a tree, so just hopped up to the top of it, got all the fruit down, carried it home and made a load of fresh juice. I have a growing addiction to passionfruit and mango juice. It is SO GOOD.

They were all pointing out the different fruit and teaching me the Spanish names for them, when they decided to introduce me to the joys of coconut milk. Did they get it out of a tin? No. They got Henrri to scale one of the (tall, straight) trees in the garden, and lob one down for everyone. Sandi got us a straw, Chilo hacked them open with a machete (people just wander around with them here) and it was fresh coconut juice all round.

I helped assemble some shelves and storage for the little colmado on site, which serves the local people basic supplies.

The 11th saw the roof being raised onto the garden, and in the afternoon I was taught a Dominican board game, which I then played with two local women. Then helping with the animals in the evening, and teaching Henrri to play chess.

The new vegetable garden, at the best angle I could find, which still isn't great.

The 12th saw me digging out a new path with Pastor the gardener, and creating a border of recycled glass bottles. This meant lots of digging. Glass bottles have to go deep.

That man is so ridiculously strong for his age. He's over 60.

One of the aims of the project is to teach people about conservation, and recycling, along with the concept of using materials available, such as glass bottles for borders, and vegetable gardens. I also laid a path of paving stones between the vegetable beds, and played wheelbarrow woman for the relocation of some plants.

The not-quite finished result. But you get the idea.

Man, this post is long. Sorry. You don't have to go on. It's okay.

The plants had to be dug out and replanted - it was very much gardeners week, so I spent the morning doing that, and then I helped with the building of the rabbit hutches.

I say helped, I just kind of found some chicken wire, jumped on it to flatten it out, then stood on it to keep it in place whilst Chilo and Wellington attached it all. I had my second riding lesson on Jefe, and while checking on him later, a rabbit came lolloping past my feet.

This would be fine, only the rabbits are supposed to be inside their hutches. Someone had left the door open.

I spent the next hour being continually outsmarted by a pair of rabbits. Actually outsmarted. They took my cabbage bait, and ran away before I could grab them. Then, at one point, I actually got rushed by a rabbit. The rabbit intimidated me.

I never caught the rabbits.

Saturday was cleaning day, and the the afternoon at Harvest connections, where local mission groups and charities come to share and encourage each other. It was really good, and a great initiative in an area of so much need.

Sunday we went to church, and in the afternoon we took two girls that live in the next property over to Cabarete beach. I was continually used a a boat/horse by them, and I'm still trying to get the sand out of my hair. But it was a great afternoon, and I had a lot of fun. More importantly, the little girls did too.

Monday was the cleaning out of the rabbit hutches. It hadn't been done in a while... so that was nice.

I'm writing this as I wait for a load of bedding to be washed. Today I'm cleaning the kid's dorm, and washing and sorting and tidying.

And that brings us up to now, and I can stop.

Sorry if I bored you!

I hope everyone at home is safe, well and happy, and the same goes for anyone who has simply happened upon this blog.

You're all in my prayers

x

Settling in

Hello All!

I thought it might be a good idea to update you all on what´s been going down in the D.R. after over a week has already passed. I´m settling in well I think, although the first few days away from home, with three months ahead of me, were a little hard... but I´m feeling a lot better about it all now, and adjusting to this insane culture.

It´s been a busy week, watching and observing how the project runs, and smiling and waving a lot to make up for my lack of a grasp on Spanish. I´m picking it up slowly though... I can muddle my way through an introductory conversation, and get the gist of peoples conversations. I´m planning on getting better.

The centre acts as a kind of drop in for the local people, young and old. It´s hard to keep track of who comes and goes. The project runs a little shop, or ´colmado´for the locals, who are mostly extremely poor and can only afford small quantities of essentials. It´s well placed, as they´d otherwise have to travel for five miles to the nearest store on foot or, if they´re lucky, on one of those death trap bikes.

This week I got a chance to play basketball with one of the local boys that they call ´´little bird´, he´s 11 but could easily pass for about 7 yrs old. I showed him some of my moves. By which I mean I made myself a source of great comedy, but together we (he) mastered some trick shots like shooting from the tyres on the playground, and after spinning round in a circle.

I´m not built for sports, especially sports in heat.

I´ve also repainted the Project Isobel sign outside of the main gates that needed some attention, and as soon as I remember, I´ll attempt to post a picture. But if you´d like to see the grounds and the animals, and some of the children the project works with, check out Project Isobel.

I´ve been introduced to, and groomed the horses, and I got a chance to ride Jefe. Apparently my posture was good, but I was just grateful to have stayed on the horse. I´ve been involved in general duties, feeding the other animals, helping with the accounts and stocking the shop, keeping the project´s builiding tidy, and sorting out the toys and games in the kids dorm.

Speaking of which, I´m pretty sure there was a cockroach in one of the boxes, and I removed a giant spider corpse from the chess set. There´s also a giant spider, the size of the palm of my hand, living in my room somewhere. Occaissionally I catch a glimpse and scare myself silly for a bit. I much prefer the lizard that appears to have vacated the premises after I moved in. There are a lot of creatures of that kind here.

I wake up, and am immediately covered in dog slobber. Each of the dogs takes it in turn to do so, which is always delightful, I´ve just accepted it as fact now though.

But it´s all good! I´m safe, and settling in, and I´ve already got a great tan that has worked its way through my sunscreen. I´ll tell you all about the food I´m eating another time, because that´s good too.

So bye for now, please keep praying for me and the project, as it´s all needed. I thank God every day for the amazing work he´s doing with the project.

I´ve arrived!

Well, it´s already my second day in the Dominican Republic.

I´m currently sitting in an Internet cafe, surrounded by loud people arguing in Spanish. Indoor voices don´t exist here. And the computer is Spanish too, so from now on any and all typo´s on my behalf have to be ignored.

The grounds of the Project and the surrounding area are gorgeous, and the weather is always hot... although there was a large thunderstorm last night. I´ve visited the beach, which is about two miles away, and it´s picture perfect. The people are very friendly, but I´m pretty sure it´s because they want me to buy stuff from them, or get me on to their motorbikes.

Speaking of which, they´re all maniacs on the road, and I wince every time we´re in the car as no-one seem's to believe in road safety or traffic laws.

The poverty here is stark and obvious, sandwiched alongside great wealth it is even more evident. We dropped a boy home who´d stayed at the Project for a week, and he lived in what is the equivalent of a ghetto, tiny shacks piled up on top of one another, with animals, children, bikes and litter everywhere. It was hard to see. The Project really is a haven in comparision to this. We´ve also been out to collect wood for some rabbit hutches, and to try and sort out a new vehicle, as the current one is old, and regularly breaks down.

I´ve adopted one of the dogs the Project rescued and she sleeps in my room at night, and follows me around during the day. Her name is Lucy and she´s lovely, and a great help in avoiding homesickness. I´m still missing everybody though!

Well, that´s it for now. I guess I´d better go... don´t forget to check out the project´s website http://www.projectisobel.com/

Love you all!