Thursday, July 9, 2009
DR 'duh' moment
I just got in the shower and scrubbed my underwear because my brain turned off, and my auto-pilot is still in Dominican.
Advice from Dad
Thanks, guys. In the past few months since I've left Peace Corps a few people have asked me why I stopped blogging. I thought that without the American-abroad circumstance, there wasn't a need. But, I love to write and if just one person wants to read - I'll keep it up!
I talked to my Dad this morning. He loves to chat, and he has chat 'modes.' One mode is when he tells a story about how the world is. These are often long stories, relaying his take on a broad human topic, like how good it is that doñas cook or how kind he found my DR neighbors. (True, they are pretty nice). Other times, he likes to give advice. This used to irk me, and now that I'm old enough that I give young'ns unsolicited advice, Dad's doing so seems righteous.
What's great about my Dad's advice is his uncanny ability to make statements that are good measures of most decisions. Today we were talking about my need for furniture in a new apartment. I have so much beautiful furniture in sunny California, but, alas, I am setting up an apartment in green New Haven, CT. Dad says he want to drive our furniture out! I know, he's a dear man. I say, 'Dad, just let me handle this with second-hand furniture from Craigslist and whatnot. It doesn't really matter who will win (Dad likes to debate all topics for weeks, sometimes months), but here are a few of his sage remarks.
'Claudette, the problems really start when you lack imagination. Don't forget that just 5 variables leads to a factorial of 120 solutions. All problems are limited only by your ability to imagine new potential solutions.'
'Claudette, we're not capitalists, but we do conserve capital.'
and my favorite: 'Claudette, don't be dogmatic.'
I talked to my Dad this morning. He loves to chat, and he has chat 'modes.' One mode is when he tells a story about how the world is. These are often long stories, relaying his take on a broad human topic, like how good it is that doñas cook or how kind he found my DR neighbors. (True, they are pretty nice). Other times, he likes to give advice. This used to irk me, and now that I'm old enough that I give young'ns unsolicited advice, Dad's doing so seems righteous.
What's great about my Dad's advice is his uncanny ability to make statements that are good measures of most decisions. Today we were talking about my need for furniture in a new apartment. I have so much beautiful furniture in sunny California, but, alas, I am setting up an apartment in green New Haven, CT. Dad says he want to drive our furniture out! I know, he's a dear man. I say, 'Dad, just let me handle this with second-hand furniture from Craigslist and whatnot. It doesn't really matter who will win (Dad likes to debate all topics for weeks, sometimes months), but here are a few of his sage remarks.
'Claudette, the problems really start when you lack imagination. Don't forget that just 5 variables leads to a factorial of 120 solutions. All problems are limited only by your ability to imagine new potential solutions.'
'Claudette, we're not capitalists, but we do conserve capital.'
and my favorite: 'Claudette, don't be dogmatic.'
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Hello, East Coast
I've been back in the States for two weeks now. The showers are great! I can't complain about a thing. I love the sky. To me, it looks thin and high. The sky in the DR was close and heavy, like wet, glistening wool. I am so lucky to be from Los Angeles. The first place I went on the way home was New York. My heart kept stumbling over all the wonders on a Park Slope boulevard: stand alone, planned trees, single elegant electric wires like jump rope up above the trees, large smooth concrete slabs to make up a sidewalk. Red brick walk-ups against a grey sky. I felt like telling people 'I'm an American, but I'm new here' because it's just fascinating how darling the city looks.
We flew to Burbank, and that was like going from fairytale to perfection. That golden light the Santa Monica mountains give off, has it always been like that? My house in Burbank, has it always been so cool and quiet inside? My parents bought a couch while I was gone, and the luxury of sitting in it made me feel like I was on vacation. One day, I turned on the shower and no hot water came out. So I'm bathing, thinking, hey, I still know how to take a cold one! As I toweled off, I realized I had just forgotten to turn the hot water on. Apparently, my brain don't remember how to do that so much unless I focus on it. I giggled, remembering Arelis. She says hot water damages your hair, and if you want shiny, you want cold. I think about my Dominican family and friends often' their voices ring like pretty wind chimes a few feet behind me in the breeze.
I stay out of stores, stay away from magazines. I think my favorite moment of the whole two weeks was when my niece fell asleep on my lap during a movie. I have always been a very family oriented person, but my service made that bigger. It's just a DR thing, family is all we thought about, planned for, worked on. (Unless you were a drunk unemployed man, but that's another story). Being around people who spent all day talking about their kids, their parents, their siblings made me wonder more than anything 'what am I doing here? My parents don't live here.' Arelis would always ask about my family. What an embarrassment if I didn't have an update. The stores and magazines send little culture shock waves through me, too, but a girl can only handle so many culture shock waves per day, so I pare it down to the amazing American skylines and cityscapes.
Like I said on Facebook, I saw the LA skyline and it brought me joy. Do I miss the DR?
I miss it a lot. I like Los Angeles for so many selfish reasons, like the city is so clean and the sad things are sectioned off, where I am in control of how much exposure to them I get. My family here is much richer than my family there. As a PCV, I lived in relative poverty and worked with the effects of poverty almost exclusively. A vacation from from that sort of problem solving is rest for my psyche.
We flew to Burbank, and that was like going from fairytale to perfection. That golden light the Santa Monica mountains give off, has it always been like that? My house in Burbank, has it always been so cool and quiet inside? My parents bought a couch while I was gone, and the luxury of sitting in it made me feel like I was on vacation. One day, I turned on the shower and no hot water came out. So I'm bathing, thinking, hey, I still know how to take a cold one! As I toweled off, I realized I had just forgotten to turn the hot water on. Apparently, my brain don't remember how to do that so much unless I focus on it. I giggled, remembering Arelis. She says hot water damages your hair, and if you want shiny, you want cold. I think about my Dominican family and friends often' their voices ring like pretty wind chimes a few feet behind me in the breeze.
I stay out of stores, stay away from magazines. I think my favorite moment of the whole two weeks was when my niece fell asleep on my lap during a movie. I have always been a very family oriented person, but my service made that bigger. It's just a DR thing, family is all we thought about, planned for, worked on. (Unless you were a drunk unemployed man, but that's another story). Being around people who spent all day talking about their kids, their parents, their siblings made me wonder more than anything 'what am I doing here? My parents don't live here.' Arelis would always ask about my family. What an embarrassment if I didn't have an update. The stores and magazines send little culture shock waves through me, too, but a girl can only handle so many culture shock waves per day, so I pare it down to the amazing American skylines and cityscapes.
Like I said on Facebook, I saw the LA skyline and it brought me joy. Do I miss the DR?
I miss it a lot. I like Los Angeles for so many selfish reasons, like the city is so clean and the sad things are sectioned off, where I am in control of how much exposure to them I get. My family here is much richer than my family there. As a PCV, I lived in relative poverty and worked with the effects of poverty almost exclusively. A vacation from from that sort of problem solving is rest for my psyche.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
COS means Close of Service
I write to you today from the United States of America, specifically from Burbank. I am so happy to report that Ben and I closed our service on May 5, 2009. We are so proud of our work and also ecstatic to be home enjoying our family.
We had a great last month in country. My parents came and there was a huge farewell party where Ben, Dylan and I made a dozen pizzas in our earth oven for the kids. There was 10 lbs of moro for 25 people and 7 roasted chickens. Our PC colleagues were supportive and tender as we said our goodbyes. Leaving Los Dajaos was hard on both of us - service is hard won - and it was extremely painful to give it all up.
Still, it is the right choice. I already miss the hugs and cleaning the beans, the expectation that Ben and I would be together at all times (Columbia kicked me out of an orientation I tried to attend with Ben. The nerve! A Dominican would never do that. The culture shock of it all), the greeting people on public transit. Luckily we had some talkative cabbies in New York, because before that happened, New York was feeling kinda icy. I miss my house. I'm pretty sure my Peace Corps house will always be the nicest house I ever lived in; a tie right up there with my house in Burbank.
Still, it was the right choice to leave. Even though the colleagues exceeded my highest expectations of heart and productivity so often and even though I could get a blow out for $3 or a pineapple for $1.40. It's time to get my career on; it's time to get healthy again. And from what I hear, lots of Dominicans in Connecticut to make me feel at home.
Moving forward, Ben and I are back in America, starting grad school, and wow, living in America again. I couldn't be happier with how Peace Corps turned out, how it's changed my life, or how I performed as a volunteer. If you've considered a tour, too: go for it. And stay, stay, stay. The hardest part is staying, forcing that growth. It is worth it.
I'm going to try to keep this blog up as I start nursing school in August and Ben starts his premed post-bac. My family looks great, a great relief to me. With so long not seeing them or my house, I was driving myself insane worrying. We'll be here for two weeks and then we'll be heading East. If you have any recommendations on how to live through winter, like what kind of coat I should acquire, please tell - I am already nervous about being the So Cal girl in Connecticut. I'm prepared for the lack of all things Mexican, but not for the sleet and snow.
We had a great last month in country. My parents came and there was a huge farewell party where Ben, Dylan and I made a dozen pizzas in our earth oven for the kids. There was 10 lbs of moro for 25 people and 7 roasted chickens. Our PC colleagues were supportive and tender as we said our goodbyes. Leaving Los Dajaos was hard on both of us - service is hard won - and it was extremely painful to give it all up.
Still, it is the right choice. I already miss the hugs and cleaning the beans, the expectation that Ben and I would be together at all times (Columbia kicked me out of an orientation I tried to attend with Ben. The nerve! A Dominican would never do that. The culture shock of it all), the greeting people on public transit. Luckily we had some talkative cabbies in New York, because before that happened, New York was feeling kinda icy. I miss my house. I'm pretty sure my Peace Corps house will always be the nicest house I ever lived in; a tie right up there with my house in Burbank.
Still, it was the right choice to leave. Even though the colleagues exceeded my highest expectations of heart and productivity so often and even though I could get a blow out for $3 or a pineapple for $1.40. It's time to get my career on; it's time to get healthy again. And from what I hear, lots of Dominicans in Connecticut to make me feel at home.
Moving forward, Ben and I are back in America, starting grad school, and wow, living in America again. I couldn't be happier with how Peace Corps turned out, how it's changed my life, or how I performed as a volunteer. If you've considered a tour, too: go for it. And stay, stay, stay. The hardest part is staying, forcing that growth. It is worth it.
I'm going to try to keep this blog up as I start nursing school in August and Ben starts his premed post-bac. My family looks great, a great relief to me. With so long not seeing them or my house, I was driving myself insane worrying. We'll be here for two weeks and then we'll be heading East. If you have any recommendations on how to live through winter, like what kind of coat I should acquire, please tell - I am already nervous about being the So Cal girl in Connecticut. I'm prepared for the lack of all things Mexican, but not for the sleet and snow.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
How to pick My Next Career
"I had to stop thinking logically and make a right-brain decision. "
How I did it: I gave myself plenty of time to think (several years, in fact) during which I entertained myself by not working, doing a mild office job, and serving in Peace Corps. The latter is very formative and continues to shape me. I have weighed this decision rationally and logically, but the artist's mind that led the way.
It took me 10 months.
It made me excited 
See more progress on: Pick My Next Career
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