October 12, 2008
Softball shots
I love going to softball games here whether it’s the men’s team or the women’s team. People get so into it. I’ve asked the men’s team why is it that they play softball and not baseball. Well they told me that baseball is played by the professionals. I guess my facial expression gave away my confusion because some of the guys were like, that’s just how it is. Also, they don’t just play one game they play two. At first I remember I was so tired once the second game started. Now I actually enjoy it. The reason why both teams play 2 games back to back is because Dominicans do not like to lose. If they lose the first game they at least have another chance to win the second game. However, no one ever seems to care who won the first game. The second game is always the one that counts.
So today was the start of a big tournament between the men’s teams from different surrounding sites. It started off wonderful even though the team from my site lost the first game. I guess it’s not that different from games back in the states, people drink beer and cheer for their team. Well...there are no hotdogs, you have to sit on the grass or stand, and not only do the fans drink alcohol but the players as well. By the end of the last game most of the players are always drunk. Somehow they still make honruns (homeruns) and never pass out from heat exhaustion. The second game was played by two other teams. The team from my site played the last game but weren’t able to finish it. There were 2 more innings left. A 20 minute argument broke out about the way the ball was pitched. Well finally they started playing again. Again, the ball was pitched wrong and some one pointed it out. As I’m sitting on the grass I see the guy on first base pull out a gun from his back pocket. This guy is crazy, all this time he was running with a gun in his pocket. He shoots it up in the air and I see others from that team start pulling out their guns and shooting them too. People scattered and ran out of the baseball field.



October 11, 2008
Saturday Morning
I woke up at around 7am to the familiar noisy motos whizzing by my house. Off to the parselas and konukos (rice fields and platano farms) I think to myself. An image came into my mind of 3 men on a small army green moto wearing stained worn out work clothes, a baseball cap and knee high black plastic work boots, the last man holding a shovel looking as though he might just slid off soon. I don’t need an alarm to get up, these noisy motos do the trick. I pull open the mosquitero and roll out of bed. UV, my dog, instantly crawls out from underneath my bed and starts licking my hand. I open my front gate door and watch UV dart out to chase the dirty white ducks. I’m still not sure who owns them and why they still haven’t been run over by a moto. The sun is out and the Haitian couple who own the colmado (grocery stand) across the street from me have just opened. A few neighbors are collecting water from the pipe coming out of the ground next to my house. There are 2, but only one pipe works and the water always comes out slow because the pompa (pump) has been broken for months. I walk to the back of my house into the kitchen and open my back door to take a look at the view of cows grazing. The owner of the house I live in decided to build the shower outside although it is still attached to the house. Before heading off into the dirt and pebble streets of the campo I take a bucket shower. I have come to enjoy these bucket showers. They are very refreshing. I have this huge green trash can that I fill up with water. There is a pipe outside the shower that shoots out water whenever I tell the neighbors to turn it on.
This Saturday morning felt so familiar, maybe because I almost have a year in site. Everything felt so normal. By 8 am mostly everyone was up doing some kind of work. The women with their oficios (chores) and the men working in the fields. I can here 3 different batchata songs blaring. In one house a young girl is dancing and singing to a batchata song will moppiaring (mopping) at the same time. My host sister once told me tu conoces a todo el mundo that I know everyone. In the campo if you pass by someone you must say hi out of respect. So that’s what I do, however that doesn’t mean that I know everyone’s name. But everyone definitely knows my name. I don’t know how many times I said hola or adios just this morning alone. People even say hi to my dog. Well, I think because to them I treat my dog like a person. As I walk through the main carretera (road) I can hear the local discoteca blaring a batchata song and I hear someone say diablo que batchata!, translation damn what a good batchata song. This Saturday morning people are busy, everywhere. Motos and camionetas pass me by, every now and then with a man sticking his head out and hissing at me, ha. In every small building I see people immersed in some kind of conversation, all people that I know. I wonder how they can have any kind of conversation with the music so loud. As I get closer to home my dog takes off in front of me to beat me home. Now it’s time to start lunch. Well I guess it’s gonna be rice, beans and chicken again. Hopefully the veggie man on his large tricycle passes by.