Moving to the Pueblo

       I write this to you from my very own house.  I have officially moved into my own digs and have a great new burst of independence (whether that’s actually a good thing or not). The move was easy-peasy because about 6 small children showed up at my Host Family’s home to help (without me even asking). A small parade of small people traveled down the road each carrying shoes, motorcycle helmet, backpacks, suitcases, mosquiteros, pots and pans, and everything else that I own. My whole life and belongings were on display for the bevvy of onlookers who were fascinated (and mostly just nosy), so in case anyone was interested in what I actually own, my life was on display for all.

My first day/night in my house were a little overwhelming, but I am sure that things will calm down once my vecinos are a little bit more used to my presence. I moved from a house that was pretty well set back from the street, and thus more quiet and tranquil. If I wanted to relax and have minimal visitors I could go to my host family’s home. Now, as Mantula says, I live in the Pueblo (down the street, but in a more populated area) which means that vecinos are always around and it’s not just me who does the visiting now. In my first 24 hours I’ve realized that it’s expected for me to have my doors and windows open whenever I’m home and that knocking, announcing an entry, touching things, or even really asking to do anything with my belongings is a non-existent formality. My hope is that after I’ve settled a bit more I can lay some quality ground-rules for the wandering eyes and hands of the youth of La Culata.

I didn’t really have a chance to live-update the moving experience, so I’ve included below some of the high-lights of the experience that I managed to write down throughout the days leading up to the big move.

#1: Mantula is a beast when it comes to bargain shopping and aprovechando opportunities when they arise. The Peace Corps recently deposited my “settling-in allowance” into my bank account (rollin’ in the dough!) and so Mantula and I have been scheming about how to best go about purchasing the necessary items.

Before I go any further, I must say that Mantula has been extremely generous. She is, for two years, lending me a tank for gas and a stove top (which cost all-together like RD$5,000 to buy) and she is going to be giving me a set of one plate/one knife/one fork/one spoon/one cup to use, she’s giving me a bucket, a pillow, a cooler and just the other evening during a rainstorm she sewed me some potholders as a housewarming gift. During the move, she actually continued giving me things, so many that I sort of lost count of all that was gifted. I tried to refuse some things, but she insisted. She just saved me so much money I can’t even believe it. Gotta love that lady.

So anyway, Mantula and I have it all planned out, which stores we’re going to this coming week, in which order, what brands we’ll look for and what prices I’m willing to pay. The big ticket items? A Boxspring/Mattress, a large pot, a frying pan, some cooking utensils, a mop, a broom, a big bucket to store water in and if we’re really feeling spendy a plastic chair or maybe even a blender (I know, crazy right?!). We’ve also invited along a fellow PCV her host mom. We figure that if we buy TWO beds, TWO frying pans, etc., we can get a better deal. I’m not tryin’ to spend tons of money and neither is Emily.

#2: Every night this week I’ve been making sure to spend a good amount of time, as usual really, sitting with my host family. Especially this week since it’s my last one living here full time. Without fail, Yanelys and Juan de Dios bring up the fact that I’m moving and somehow accuse me of moving purely to forget about them. They like to joke that I am moving into my house in the Pueblo (as my new digs are in a slightly more populated area of the street) while leaving them in the Campo (our house is a bit more isolated and removed from the rest of La Culata). It’s all in jest, but I can tell that deep down they’re genuinely nervous that I might forget about them. Yanelys actually refused to help me move because she was upset. She has asked me multiple times why I don’t just use my new house to sleep in but eat all of my meals, spend my free time and do my daily exercises back at the Host Family’s house. She is repeatedly upset by my response of, “Forgive me Yanelys, but I can’t do that.”

It’s kind of crazy to think about the fact that I’m in my third month with this family (my longest homestay yet in this country). I’ve really grown to feel a part of the family. I’ve had my fair share of sibling quarrels, I’ve gotten mad at them, I’ve had heart-to-heart conversations, we’ve debated the Bible, we’ve cooked together, we’ve made fun of each other, we hug, we kiss.

I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do on those long boring nights when se va la luz and I don’t have two siblings and two parents to sit with in the dark and talk. Don’t worry, I’m sure that I’m going to find ways to occupy my time, and it’s not like I’m going to be living in the middle of nowhere. I will actually be surrounded by more neighbors, more people, than I am now, but I can tell it won’t be the same.

Regardless, I’ll probably remember these last few nights the most because the muchachos are really showing how much they care about me, and I’m realizing how much I care about them.

          #3: Mantula and I spent the day washing the house. We took all of the furniture out of the house and in true Dominican fashion began cleaning things.

I say Dominican fashion, because I have never seen anything like this. Let me start by saying, I’ve cleaned a house a time or two in my life. In fact, my sister and her husband maintain a small house cleaning business, and once I accompanied my sister to clean a house. I learned the ways of professional house cleaning. So I know a wee bit about the etiquette involved. Now throw all of that etiquette away, because this massacre was nothing like that.

Once we had removed all of the muebles from the house, Mantula picked up a brush and a broom while I picked up a hose. We literally hosed down the entire inside and outside of the house, scrubbed with broom and brush every surface in the house, and then hosed it all down again. We were throwing bleach in every corner, outlets were soaked, we were soaked, water was flying everywhere…and no one thought twice. It was a regular old spring cleaning. Neighbors stopped by to see how things were going, chat, watch us work, critique our scrubbing styles and relajar con nosotros.

We took a brief break for breakfast which Mantula pulled out of her purse; a Tupperware full of boiled yucca and fried eggs. We went home for lunch when the electricity went out (and thus the water as well) but returned around 3pm when it returned. All in all it took the two of us about 6 hours to clean the entire house.

The best part of it all is that I don’t even really see a major difference, but I can definitely say that I’m proud of the work that we did.

Photographic Evidence That I Actually Did Move!

Pot Holders (Gift from Mantula By Mantula) Dish Towel (Gift from Mantula By Dolce & Gabbana

Chillin’ on my Front Porch

First Dinner (Yucca, Eggs, Hot Chocolate) Courtesy of Mis Vecinos

Proud Owner of a Stove Top

My Shower Hut and to the right you can see my Latrine

Juan de Dios testing out the new Rocker in my living room

Kitchen: My Tank and Stove