“No, you said you wanted to go with me to visit both locations. We’ve kept the shops open for your visit.”

“Oh, I can’t go now,” he replied, glancing at his watch. “I have to meet with clients in a few minutes.”

I nodded silently but thought, “Then why did you ask me to come at this time?”

“But hey, drop off some samples of what you have,” he continued, “and we’ll see what we can do. Maybe we can sell some here for you.”

I held onto the samples from the two Project Esperanza art shops I brought with me as the owner of the tourist company rushed off. As I waited for him outside with my baby, 2-year-old, and helper, I watched two fifty-five passenger buses pull in, full of fat cat gringos (I mean expat tourists) who fled out of the buses and into a beautiful little party this company had set up for the participants of their night tour. When the owner finally had time to talk with me, he opted out of our agreement to have his tour guides lead tourists to one of our shops.

We at Project Esperanza, a nonprofit dedicated to serving the Haitian population of Puerto Plata in the areas of education, social aid, and community development, have struggled with the presence of these tourism businesses and their implications for the community. During the day, their business is taking tourists around to different sites in monster trucks painted with tiger stripes. One year my family had two boys stay with us because Project Esperanza no longer had a residential program for their age group. They attended a public school and more often than not, explained to me upon returning home that truck loads of tourists had come and taken their pictures during recess. Sometimes the tourists took pictures through classroom windows after recess and sometimes while visiting they threw change up in the air which students scrambled and fought over. Before the end of the school year, they reported that women from the communities came to the school with their babies in order to beg, as well as elderly people.

I found this to be a disgrace to an educational institution as well as an unnecessary distraction and temptation for boys from the street who are used to begging and have a fixation with money. They sometimes would prefer the freedom and excitement of the street and sporadic opportunities to make money rather than the security of a home where all their needs are met. One of the boys who stayed with us that year fell into temptation and ran away into the streets mid April. But these effects that such tourism has on the local community isn’t considered much by the heads of the companies. I wonder how many tourists who participate in them ponder their effects as well.

The community of Muñoz, where Project Esperanza has our original art shop and a school, has such tourist excursions pass through daily. The most common excursions are horseback riding, go-karts, four wheelers, and horse-drawn carriages. The carriages especially paint the wrong picture as they pass through the community with an American or European couple and the Haitian or Dominican kids run after with their hands held out, sometimes receiving pieces of candy.

Our team has diligently contacted these excursion guides, requesting that they stop by our fair trade art shop, which is right on their route. What a wonderful way for them to use their positions to give back to the community and to earn 5 percent of all sales they bring in. However, they do not want to participate. It is common for gift shops to give 30 percent to people leading in customers, but we don’t see the reason for that as this higher percentage is taken from the artist’s pay and would not, therefore, be fair trade. Our only sales in the Muñoz art shop, therefore, has been from the volunteer community and of that group, they were mainly Project Esperanza volunteers.

In September Project Esperanza opened a second art shop in town in our hostel since we had the space and extra inventory. We have some traffic and have made a few sales but still have the problem of the uncooperative and competitive tourist guides.

Finally, Project Esperanza set up an online store to be able to sell to people all over the world. This launched in October. We have made 17 sales to 6 unique customers so far. You can help by doing some Christmas shopping and helping to spread the word. Additionally, anyone interested in coming down to take shifts in the art shop, help create a buzz to get tourists out, and join us in other activity, please e-mail me. Art shop workers receive 7 percent of all sales made during their shifts.

Our funding took a large decline beginning in 2009 and it was at this time that we became very active in setting up small businesses such as the art shop. This is not only an attempt to generate funds locally and raise awareness of our efforts among passing tourists, but it’s also a way to put some control in the hands of the beneficiaries. However, those who currently hold the control don’t seem to want to share that, but want to continue to harvest off of the aforementioned recreational activities for tourists which do nothing positive for the human development of the impoverished locals. So far, doing fair trade in an unfair society and an unfair world, really, has been pretty tough. But being the idealists that we are, we still have hope!

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza.

He had never worked construction before but in July when a family member called him and invited him to join him in another part of the country where there was construction work, he went to try it out. He planned on staying a month and coming back in time for the new school year. We kept in contact while he was gone. One day he called to let me know he would be there the following Monday when school was scheduled to start. He didn’t show up and I couldn’t reach him because there was no cell phone signal where he was staying. He used to have to travel to find cell phone signal in order to call me. I finally spoke with him and he said that he had had problems but would surely be there the following Monday.

When he showed up, he explained that when pay day came around, it was pushed back a week. This caused everyone to be extra antsy. The following week when the construction workers gathered to receive their monthly pay, they were informed by the engineer that the “maestro” had disappeared with the money. Typically how construction jobs work is that there is an engineer responsible for directing the entire project. There are also “maestros” responsible for overseeing a group of workers, checking that they come on time, work throughout the day, do what they are supposed to do, etc. They are also typically the ones to receive the pay money from the engineer or whoever is funding the project and pay out their workers.

I think it is also important to put this story into perspective by stating that construction work here is not the same as in the developed world. I was reminded of this when I searched for images by typing “construction” and I saw large equipment such as tractors and bulldozers. Those are hard to come by here. I then searched “construction, Dominican Republic” and found pictures of resorts. This is definitely the more appealing part of the operation to show, but there is back breaking labor and slave-type abusive situations involved in creating these island paradises. This is perhaps something to think about the next time you plan your vacation to a Caribbean all inclusive resort.

This photo was taken by JMM01 on Flickr

This teacher, who is 26 years old and named Willy, said that some of the men cried “like babies” upon hearing the news as they had lost several hundred dollars, which is quite a lot for a construction worker in this society. He himself is so used to hardship that he was in disbelief but almost a non-disbelief. He had already built up a debt to the local “colmado” or small grocery store which he planned on paying once he received his pay. He had to borrow money from a friend then to pay that debt off and for transportation money to return home to Puerto Plata. So he traveled across the country during his summer vacation hoping to build up a little savings and be able to purchase new work clothes for the new school year. Instead, he came back with nothing in his pocket and, in fact, even debt.

The only thing I could tell Willy was that I was proud that he had gone and worked construction as he hadn’t done so before and also that he could be grateful for the knowledge and skills he gained. We also, of course, ranted about the corruption of this country. Someone does something like that and gets away with it. What sort of example does that set for others? Where is the justice?

Things have not started much better for us this school year, financially. We have been able to provide uniforms and books for students due to a new student sponsorship program we have. We were also able to run a wonderful week of teacher training before the school year began for the first time. But as far as teacher salaries go, we have only been able to pay two of the three months that have passed so far this school year, tacking a fifth month onto the months owed. We have four volunteers here working hard to generate income for Project Esperanza through our small business efforts. However, as any business founder knows, this takes time before things really turnover. Without our faithful supporters, we would be nowhere. We just need more faithful supporters.

Read here if you are interested in sponsoring a student. Read here if you are interested in becoming a monthly sponsor. I invite you to join us in prayer and support of Haitians who venture to the Dominican Republic in search of life as, in consistency with what I have stated in previous posts, their journey is not an easy one.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza.

“More grease?” he asked.

“More what?”

“Grasa.” I wasn’t used to people using that word to refer to the liquid the chicken is in but more often have heard the liquid referred to as “sauce”. Rice covered in sauce from the beans and chicken is much better than dry rice. However, my rice was moist enough.

“No, thank you,” I answered again. He then retreated back behind the counter. The average price of this meal at comedors in Puerto Plata is 80 pesos. With the current exchange rate fluctuating around 37.3 pesos to a dollar, this is just over a $2 meal.

I think it is evident that I am meant to live here because I have never gotten sick of rice. I was not brought up eating large quantities of rice like everyone here was. Growing up in Virginia, I ate rice when our family ate Chinese food perhaps once a month, at most. My mom normally made white rice with chili and then occasionally white rice or wild rice as a small side dish. But here we eat platefuls of rice every day, often twice a day.

I have brought many skills to contribute to those I have lived with here. Many I have lived with lack basic education and knowledge about many things in the world. However, this is all of relative value when I do not know how to successfully cook the most basic ingredient in almost every meal: rice. Here I have not lived in a house with the simple self-cleaning electric stove top like the one my mom has where you simply turn the knob and can heat up a can of soup in minutes. We have also not had the money to purchase cans of soup or anything convenient in such a way. There is no instant rice that is fluffy in five minutes. We have gas stoves where you have to light the burner with a match. We have a large iron pot with a large iron spoon. We have a large sack of rice, a bottle of oil, and salt. If you want to cook rice mixed with beans, we have dry beans to boil and some other seasonings.

Cooking rice in this way is an art. It took me well over a year to master and I still make mistakes. We don’t use measuring cups of any kind. If you put in too much water and end up with a “rice paste”, those you are cooking for will be unsatisfied and critical. If you do not add enough water, don’t let the rice cook long enough, or fail to create a hot enough pot to where the rice is thoroughly cooked, those you are cooking for may refuse the food altogether. There are no “low, medium, and high” markings on the burner knob. You have to know the flame. There is no salt shaker which you can use to add salt to bland rice afterward. You better get the salt quantity right as you are cooking or those you are cooking for will complain. And if you put in too much salt, well you might as well throw it out.

My formal education has done so much for me and continues to. I will be forever grateful for that and will use my education to educate those that are much less fortunate in that area. However, I am also grateful for the practical education I have received in the Dominican Republic. Cooking rice successfully is just one of the practical skills I have obtained since living here. I think it’s important to remember the basics. Before living here, if I were to ever be in a situation where basic survival skills were necessary, I would have suffered in the area of practical knowledge. Now, I feel like a much more competent individual in any global situation.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza.

For one thing, it was warm. Secondly, there are no coniferous trees on the island, so there are no natural Christmas trees. Some people, mainly Dominicans, do get artificial trees and decorate them. Some string lights, but it is very few compared to what you see in the U.S. There is also no mall here with a Santa Claus and I have not actually seen any chimneys. The biggest change in Puerto Plata during the holidays are palm leaf huts that pop up in the streets where people sell mainly apples, oranges, and bundles of hanging grapes.

When talking about Christmas, everyone refers to December 24th, not the 25th. Leading up to the date last year, I thought that Christmas was just celebrated on the 24th. It turns out that Christmas Eve is a put-on-new-clothes and party big kind of day, but the following day is spent with loved ones, eating a big meal. With roasted pigs on large sticks sold all around town, this eating and family time goes on until New Year’s Day, at least for Haitians that is.

I recently shared the story of Santa Claus with five young men in our program for Haitian boys who have come to the Dominican Republic in “search of life” and end up in pretty tough situations shining shoes or street vending. One of the boys mentioned “Tonton Noel” in reference to a decoration on a nearby house, which means “Uncle Noel” in Haitian Creole. This is how Santa Claus is referred to. I began talking about Tonton Noel and as it grew quiet, I realized they didn’t know anything about him.

Wanted: Santa Claus. Photo via Flickr user kevindooley (Creative Commons)

I told them how he looks and dresses. I explained that he carries a big red sack full of gifts and visits every house in the world in one night. I told them about reindeer, although they’ve never seen deer before. At one point, the youngest member of the group interrupted to talk about another matter. He was quickly hushed. “Don’t you see she’s talking?” someone said in an agitated way. I was amused as I realized that they were into this.

The chimney explanation was a little difficult as I had to describe what it was, along with a fireplace. When I finished saying that Santa Claus enters the house, one boy commented that he would beat him up if he found that guy in his house. I reminded him that he was bringing presents and informed them that they should not beat him up, but rather, leave out milk and cookies instead. They laughed.

It makes sense, though, that he would react with thoughts of beating Santa Claus up. I have often been told by the boys about people in Haiti who turn into a creature called a “galpot,” which jumps or flies across rooftops and eats babies. (My husband’s grandmother was accused of being a galpot, which of course, was strongly denied.) Many Haitians are also distrusting. This causes them to be cautious when it comes to eating other people’s food, not knowing whether or not the giver is trustworthy, something harmful was added, or the food is being given with negative intentions. With this cultural knowledge, it makes sense that Santa Claus landing on rooftops — entering homes and offering gifts — would appear suspicious.

One young man asked where Santa Claus got the gifts from. I was able to tie the story into things they had learned in geography and explained the North Pole. I didn’t know the word for elf in Creole or if there even is one, but luckily we all knew the word in Spanish from reading and watching The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I then realized I had forgotten to tell about stockings and the concept of “naughty and nice.” Everyone, myself included, laughed when I said those who misbehaved received a lump of coal in their “sock,”  as charcoal is what the boys and many Haitians use to cook on a daily basis. I thought about how growing up, I associated the lump of coal with summer cookouts on a grill, but now I associate it with everyday cooking on a small aluminum stove called a “recho.”

Lastly, I realized that the concept of punishing the naughty and rewarding the nice, which our program has introduced and tried to reinforce, was actually a somewhat foreign concept to the boys.  It seems as though the boys are used to a system where the strongest, hardest, trickiest, and most forceful find rewards, but genuine good behavior often just leaves one more susceptible to abuse and being taken advantage of.

But after reviewing the story, we all seemed a bit in awe and comfort at the idea of Good Old St. Nick.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza.

Photo from Flickr user Pyogenes Gruffer (Creative Commons)

To get to their house off the main road, you have to pass through alleys on foot or motorcycle. One alley leads to three connecting ones – lined by rooms on both sides – and I take the alley on the left. A few people sit washing clothes by hand, cleaning chicken in preparation to be cooked, or just relaxing. My friends live in the last room on the left, which is about 7×12 feet. If I arrive in the morning, I find three children, two sisters and one brother sleeping on the floor. Their uncle and a friend in need sleep on a small cot. Their parents, along with the two sisters, sleep on a box spring mattress enclosed by a curtain. A table lines the left wall. Under the table and along the wall are about ten buckets and jugs of water. (Tap water is only available for a few hours just once or twice a week.) This stored water is what they use for cooking, cleaning, and bathing. A small charcoal stove also sits along the left wall, with pots and pans hanging on nails higher up. Aluminum cups, mugs, utensils, plates, and bowls rest on the table. Clothes are hung on strings along the back wall. There is no bathroom.

If I come during mealtime, I find the mother squatting on the ground as I enter the door. One time she has removed a large pot from the charcoal stove and is dividing the rice and beans contents into twelve plates and bowls of varying sizes. She then uncovers a pot filled with chicken in a liquid sauce and begins filling the bowls,  stating that the extra bowls are for the neighbors. She insists I eat a piece of chicken. I refuse and say that she already has so many mouths to feed. She insists more, acts hurt that I am refusing, and hands me a piece of chicken. It is delicious. When I’m done, she comes with a small jug of water and a piece of soap. She pours the water over my hands as I wash them. She then tells one of her daughters to hand me a towel.

Her name is Litanne. She is the woman who came to the Dominican Republic with Anol, a boy who was involved in Project Esperanza’s program for Haitian shoe shiners/street vendor boys who have come here in “search of life.”  He is the friend in need that shared a small cot with Litanne’s brother. Regretfully, Anol passed away from diabetes this past January. When Anol became sick, Litanne cared for him and helped him buy insulin at times when Project Esperanza did not. She is gracious, hospitable, and has a beautiful family.

When Anol first passed away, the biggest thing I wanted to do if our organization had the financial ability was to purchase or build a house with a yard and garden for Litanne and her family with the understanding that she would use it to care for people in the way that she had cared for Anol. A few months later we intervened with another social and health care case in the same community. Involvement in this case caused this idea to expand. I now began to imagine Litanne being trained and equipped, with her house somehow serving as a health and social work center in the community where people in such great need could go.

I think of Litanne often when I feel as though our apartment is cluttered or as I worry that my family’s needs won’t be met. After seeing someone with so little express such generosity and hospitality, I find myself motivated to express even more with what I possess and view as little. I also feel motivated to empower people who have proven themselves with the little that they do have.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza. If you are interested in helping Project Esperanza turn Litanne’s house into a health and social work center, please e-mail Caitlin at caitlinmchale@esperanzameanshope.org.

This problem has been a problem of what I like to call school wreckers (in reference to individuals that have attempted to break up our schools) or team wreckers (in reference to those who have attempted to break up our soccer team). Once these attacks have been overcome, we can be flattered by them and realize that we must have a good thing going on if people want to steal it. But more than feeling flattered, I feel protective and angry at those who have meddled uninvited and attempted to create division.

Learning the Hokey Pokey in Padre Granero, 2010

To them I say: Get a life. There is enough need to go around. Rather than attempting to overtake one of our programs, go to an underserved area. But perhaps these school wreckers and team wreckers lack the skills and dedication it takes to begin a program to begin with, which is why they are trying to steal ours. Well, not on my watch!

I’ll explain one of these attacks to give an example of the type of thing I’m referring to. Regretfully, division recently occurred in a school we have supported since 2007. We included the school into our grassroots schools program after the two co-founders continuously solicited aid from us. Since then, we have paid teachers’ salaries, provided organizational support such as teachers’ handbooks, paid rent on some facilities, and provided other materials such as chalkboards, chalk, etc. These two co-founders grew into the roles of morning school director and afternoon school director.

At the beginning of 2010, it was brought to my attention that the morning school director had been soliciting aid from tourists and different foreign visitors in the area and had gained a supporter. After coming in contact with this supporter, I learned that the morning director had led this man to believe that the school was unfunded, teachers were working voluntarily, etc. He had recently begun sending funds to the morning director to provide food for students (something we had always hoped to do but always lacked funds) and also to pay teachers. Food was provided for students but when asked about the teacher salary money, the morning director had no answer.

This situation caused division in the school. I stayed in contact with this supporter, letting him know that I had hoped he would become a Project Esperanza supporter, which would’ve been the way to do things in the first place. I also would update him on the behavior of the morning director, which had gotten very destructive and out of control. He began locking classrooms with locks only he had the key to, inhibiting afternoon teachers and students from entering to hold class. He took chairs out of classrooms and stored them elsewhere and spoke very nastily to both me and the afternoon director, co-founder, and ex-good friend. On the last day of school, he actually boarded up the entrance of the building to try to inhibit the afternoon school from entering and taking their final exams. Staff removed the boards and administered the exams, only to have the morning director show up and order students to leave halfway through.

I assumed that the supporter would see this destruction and no longer support this individual. Five of the seven teachers/directors and I have stuck together, preparing to open the school in a separate location on September 6th. Those missing from the group are the morning director and his girlfriend who, in our last staff meeting where everything was addressed, appeared to be in support of the morning director, her boyfriend, and was lying for him. Therefore, we did not invite her to move on with us.

Muñoz, 2008

We were thrown for a bit of a loop when the supporter visited in July and decided to pay the rent for a year on the building we had abandoned to avoid conflict and to continue supporting the morning director. He led me on until the last minute, leading me to believe he was interested in becoming a Project Esperanza supporter. It would’ve made more sense being that we are a registered non-profit in the U.S. and Dominican Republic, rather than channeling funds to an individual who has proven nothing but his selfish ambition over the past year. However, this decision revealed something about the supporter and his values as well.

Leading up to his decision, I repeated each time I spoke to him that our first priority should be to avoid division and the separation into two schools. That would be ridiculous and unnecessary. On several occasions I offered to put him in contact with other churches or individuals in Puerto Plata who had begun or were attempting to begin similar schools in their communities to serve Haitian immigrant kids who were not in school otherwise. He was not interested in this. We are not interested in abandoning the children and parents we have formed relationships with over the past four years in this community where the school is. So we find ourselves in a battle.

After weeks of registering kids and talking to parents, it seems as though the majority have registered with us. Some parents decided to send two kids to one school and two kids to the other to keep the peace. I feel ridiculous to be engaged in such a competition where two groups fight over one marginalized neighborhood rather than separating to cover more underserved ground. But I think the community understands that Project Esperanza’s presence is a protective one and not an exploitative one. Those who do not understand that yet will hopefully come to understand.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Sometimes there are periods where the electricity goes on and off in shorter intervals. For example, last night we came home to find that there was electricity at 9 p.m. I began working on the computer but the electricity soon went back off. Having nothing else to do in the dark, I lit citronella incense in an attempt to keep mosquitoes away in the absence of the ceiling fan, put it by my bed, and laid down. Everything kicked back on again around 10:30 p.m. and stayed on until the morning.

Some people deal with this situation by purchasing and installing inverters and batteries. When there is electricity, the batteries are charged. When there is no electricity, the charged batteries power the inverter which converts direct current to alternating current, powering light bulbs, fans, outlets, and more. Inverters come with different voltages so the higher the voltage, the more electrical equipment they can power. We did purchase an inverter shortly after moving into this apartment and it served us well. (Although the time span that we are without electricity is too long and the inverter normally lasts, at most, six hours.) We have since moved the inverter to a building where we have night school, and where its service is even more needed.

Correcting science exams by candlelight - March 2008

I never exactly understood why this inconsistency exists. Just like most everyone else and many other situations we face here, I accepted it as something out of my control that I should just learn to deal with. What I gathered after asking around is that the power company, Edenorte, appears to be losing power from various sources and perhaps doesn’t know how to correct the lost power or doesn’t take the necessary steps to do so. They make up for it by cutting off electricity several hours each day. I was not surprised to learn that this was another example of a poorly run institution, with the result that those living honestly by paying their monthly electricity bills are punished and those living dishonestly and stealing are left unpunished. This is the definition of corrupt.

Last night, I reflected on the physical effect this electric situation has on me. After arriving home to a lit up apartment at 9 p.m. I attempted to get some work done on the computer. When the lights went out I had no real choice but to go lay down. When they popped back on, I wiped the sleepiness out of my eyes, moved my eleven-month-old son to a little nest I made out of a comforter on the floor by the computer without waking him, and got back to work.

Last night I got back to work but there are nights where this type of situation occurs, sleep already has a hold of me, and I miss the opportunity to work. To me, this depicts the challenges faced by someone truly wanting to work but constantly interrupted by the corrupt society they are a part of. It’s an uphill battle. To those of you fighting it, stay strong and unite with others to create change. To those of you who have never had to face it, count your blessings and think twice before passing judgment. I, having been a member of both groups, try to follow my own advice.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Our first clinic was held in the first community we ever began working in in Puerto Plata: Padre Granero. The grassroots school we run there was the site for the consultations. Members of a Haitian-run community development organization as well as teachers in the school helped run the clinic by handing out forms and regulating entrances and exits while medical students, one doctor, and a few translators ran the clinic. I did a little crowd control but mainly translated. After seeing lots of the usual – headaches, lower back pains, and vaginal infections – we saw something that we had not seen before. A Haitian woman came in with an iddy biddy baby swaddled in blankets. The baby was eight days old, completely dehydrated, and running a small fever. After the doctor who checked out the baby brought this to my attention, I quickly led the woman, who was actually not the mother, and the baby to our vehicle and then to the public hospital.

Why this baby had been released from the hospital after birth was a mystery to us but after some observations and conversations that followed, we assumed that it was due to a mixture of lack of responsibility or ability to take responsibility by the baby’s family and therefore apathy by the hospital toward the life of this struggling Haitian baby. After spending little time in the emergency room, the baby was brought to the front desk of the pediatric ward. The nurse laid the baby on the table and nonchalantly chatted with her fellow nurse as she put in the IV. I grew irritated while watching the manner at which this was done and lost patience, asking her to get on with it. She let me know that she knew what she was doing and continued chatting but seemed to speed things up with a bit more care. The baby’s mother showed up at this time. After putting in the IV, the nurse laid the baby in a small wooden crib and put a lamp over him.

We began caring for the mother, buying food and supplies and giving her transportation money to take trips home to bathe and check up on other children. It was obvious that the lack of these funds and someone able to care for her in this way was why she hadn’t come to the hospital with the baby sooner. Inpatients at the public hospital stay in large rooms with about 15 beds in each room. Caregivers do not have a place to sleep but chairs are often available. Therefore, this mother who had recently given birth had no choice but to sit by her baby’s crib all day and night.

Project Esperanza volunteers running a day clinic during the 2010 medical service trip

At first, the baby had no suck or grasp reflex. Our group thought tube feeding would be necessary but weren’t sure if they did that at this hospital. The doctor apparently did come to do it while we were not present, but didn’t go through with it because the mother didn’t have the formula milk or the money to purchase it at a nearby pharmacy. I was appalled upon finding that out. The doctor did leave a perscription for the milk and we bought a few jars. Amazingly after geting a day of fluids, the baby was now sucking and grasping! Now to make things more secure, we hoped that the mother would breastfeed. However, it had been nine days now and she had no milk. The next morning before our clinic that day, I brought her my breast pump. I gave her a two minute lesson on how to use it and asked her to use it on both breasts throughout the day before rushing to meet the rest of the group. When we returned that evening, she was breastfeeding.

After a week, the baby was released from the hospital. We helped the mother pay the deposit on a new house as she had been kicked out of her previous home. I spoke to the landlords, both previous and current. We’re trying to find a longer term solution to her money and family problems but are taking things one day at a time. The good news is that mother and baby are doing fairly well breastfeeding, growing, and being checked up on regularly. The reality is that poverty and lack of education are quite extreme on this island and not all cases similar to this one have the opportunity to receive the assistance we are providing. However, through learning from this one case, sharing the situation, and inviting others to work together, we are moving in the right direction. A proposed solution is the creation of a pregnancy care center that counsels, educates, and supports mothers in Padre Granero, the area that this mother and baby are from. But again, one thing at a time.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

I remember watching those commercials growing up and learning about sexual harassment. The legal definition of sexual harassment is unwelcome verbal, visual, or physical conduct of a sexual nature that is severe or pervasive and affects working conditions or creates a hostile work environment. I don’t think that those educational commercials and the campaign in general ever made it to the Dominican Republic…or at least not to the average man on the streets.

My work here has caused me to walk around the city a lot. As other American female volunteers can testify, walking along the streets of Puerto Plata is similar to a cat walking through a pack of dogs. Men constantly utter a whistle-like “Ppsstt” through their teeth, which is common. Like the townspeople in the story of the boy who cried wolf, you eventually become unaware when someone may be trying to gain your attention for a legitimate reason. You learn to block everything out and keep walking. If a man offers you his hand as you pass by and you give him yours, thinking he wants to greet you with a friendly high five or a handshake, he may hold onto your hand as you continue to pass. And then you feel violated.

A few days before I gave birth

Undergoing this harassment reached an all time high during 2009 while I was pregnant; I had no leave from my responsibilities of overseeing Project Esperanza programs, and we still had no vehicle. Men would yell comments such as, “Hey, let’s raise that baby together!” or “That’s my baby!” Others smiled and stared excessively while doing the usual calls. This was not an issue when my husband went with me but he did not always do so. It was difficult to bear and I had no choice but to suck it up and keep walking. If I attempted to yell something back in order to defend myself, it only seemed to excite them more. I became an angry, very pregnant, white woman walking down the street which was apparently very entertaining. I really had to bite my tongue and just keep walking. The only appropriate response I felt I could give while maintaining a little dignity would be to simply hold up the middle finger for a few seconds while passing without turning my head to look or show any other signs of agitation. However, I resisted the temptation to do this in an attempt to love my enemies and completely avoid conflict rather than engage in it.

My parents, who visited around the time I gave birth, saw that things were difficult transportation-wise and would only be more difficult with a baby. They agreed to sell the car I used to drive in the U.S. in order to provide funds for the purchase of a vehicle here. We now travel to the boys’ home and school, grassroots schools, and run errands around town much more easily and with much more dignity. The car creates a barrier from those on the street, although it is not 100% as comments are still made. However, they are much less. My suggestion to foreign women walking around the city or a similar city and facing this harassment is to hold onto your dignity. Try not to be flattered because it encourages the behavior, but try to be patient so you can show that you are mature and their actions are not. As for local women facing sexual harassment… we’ll have to leave that for another post.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

A statue of Christopher Columbus in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic.

Growing up in the U.S., I got used to talking about race or describing someone by their skin color in a careful manner, afraid to offend someone or say something wrong.

This inhibition has been eradicated after spending over two years in the Dominican Republic where a person’s skin color is used as a descriptive adjective as freely, if not more freely, than their shirt color. In both Spanish and Haitian Creole people are constantly referred to as black, brown, red, or white with, in Spanish, several words for varying shades of brown. This blog gives a quick look at the history of the island and as a result of the history, its current racial and cultural composition.

The Dominican Republic shares the island of Hispañola with Haiti in the Dominican Republic. It occupies the eastern two thirds of the country where Haiti occupies the western third. Christopher Columbus landed on the island during his first voyage in 1492 as all students here know. The land was inhabited by native Taino “Indians” who were quickly killed off as the Spanish settled. Later the French took over the western third which became Haiti. Both sides took part in the slave trade enslaving West Africans to work on sugar plantations, etc. Haiti’s slavery ended in a revolution and genocide of white people in the country, making it the first black republic and the first country overthrown and led by former slaves. On the Dominican side, slavery never was quite as dominant and brutal and apparently eventually phased out.

Therefore, Haitians often appear to be straight from West Africa whereas Dominicans seem to have an array of varying percentages of Spanish and African influence. Race and social class are definitely linked as the whiter citizens are normally members of the higher social class. However, times are changing and although racism still lingers, it seems to be less of an issue as it was earlier in history. Well before the recent earthquake that brought significant damage to Haiti’s capital Port-au-Prince, Haitians were crossing the border in “search of life” in the Dominican Republic. Both countries are considered developing nations but the economy in the Dominican Republic is quite a bit more active than the slow economy in Haiti.

Caitlin McHale is currently living in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic as the co-founder and executive director of Project Esperanza.For more about her experiences, check out her blog.