de fiesta

Finally got some dancing in last night! We went to a party to bid farewell to the Emory nursing students that had been working in the regional hospital for the last two weeks. The CEO of the hospital and her husband opened up their house (which was like shangri la, Dominican-style) to like thirty people, including hospital personnel, leaders at the university, and a whole bunch of us gringos. The affair involved two substantial meals, but one was just a 'snack'. There was plenty of bachata and merengue and it didn't take long for dancing to ensue (por fin!). However, there was never a moment when everyone was dancing, so anyone who was shaking it (especially the gringos) was the center of attention. The Dominicans were surprised and impressed at the gringos who were able to hold their own in el baile. It was super fun way to kick off our time here now that we're more or less settled as well as to celebrate before our nursing friends left.

La Planificación y el hospedaje

It's been a looooong week already, and its only Wednesday. Week One has been so much more than cultural and linguistic adaptation. We have done so much leg work for our project this week. Working with the budget to figure out how many research assistants we can afford to hire, how we can manage transportation to far-off field sites logistically and financially. We have been meeting with people at the university, the local ministry of health office. Formulating our project summary to communicate it the 'Dominican way' has taken up the better part of the last couple days.

Next steps in la planificación involve meeting the Haitian and Dominican research assistant candidates, spelling out our expectations in contracts for them to sign, training them in our research protocol, involving them in the translation of our survey materials and piloting surveys, interviews, etc. in communities similar to the ones in which we'll actually collect data.

Beyond work, there hasn't been much. We're planning to go out on the town on Friday to despedir (say farewell) to the Emory nursing students that have been here for the last two weeks. Hearing bachata blasting from all the colmados (corner stores) and restaurants has made me so antsy to dance, and busting a move in the middle of the street would definitely draw more stares than I'm already getting here as a rubia with ojos azules. My blue eyes seem to be quite the novelty here. Dancing on Friday por fin. Excited to learn from some of the best dancers in the world.

Home stay accommodations are pretty basic, but good. Its a crapshoot whether water is running in the house. If the toilet doesn't flush, just pour some water in it. If water doesn't come out of the sink, fill up a glass of drinking water from the botellón (the big bottle) and brush your teeth and wash your face. I have so far had luck with the shower, so I don't yet know how to shower when the water isn't running, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

My host mom is really sweet. She was very reserved at first, but has warmed much in the last couple days. I'm sharing a room with another American student (E) who is doing a nursing internship at the local hospital. We went out for a beer last night, and our host mom (A) came into our room, took one look at my roommate's outfit and said 'No. Espérate' (No. Wait.), and ran into the other room to grab more tight-fitting shirts for E to try on. A also went through all of E's clothes to see if she had brought anything appropriate for going out and proceeded to brush her hair as she dressed herself. It was pretty funny.

My initial impression of the house (the water situation, the size of the house, etc.) made me think that the family was of pretty limited means, but today I learned that my host mom sends both of her kids to private school. My naïvete, I guess. Wealth is all relative, really, and I get the sense that the use of bottled water (as well as the unreliability of piped water and electricity) is pretty pervasive here. There's a truck that goes by everyday, blasting some crazy song about agua, with a bed full of bottles, delivering them to houses and taking empty ones away. 

In summary, I'm doing well, acostumbrándome, and excited to dig deeper into our research as well as Dominican culture. Operating in Spanish gets easier with each passing day, and its thrilling to be learning and improving again. We'll see how long it takes for me to consistently start dropping my S's (an important aspect of the Dominican accent) and pick up the local vocabulary. It's all very thrilling and exciting!

Upon Arrival

Post-travel exhaustion has set in, but we arrived safely in San Francisco this afternoon. A few disjointed thoughts before my mind shuts off for the night... 

When the plane finally came through the clouds as we approached landing, I was surprised by how much green I saw (but really, what was I expecting? I don't know), and passed rice field after brilliantly green rice field on our journey through the Cibao on the bus. The relative poverty of the country (my point of reference is Costa Rica) was also evident. 

Had a chance encounter with someone I knew from Morris in the immigration line at the airport and exchanged contact information. The prevalence of Spanish is thrilling, but will tire me out mentally for at least the first couple days. A woman came to the door while I was sitting on the porch and asked me to give her a cincuenta. I understood her just fine, but forgot to reply in Spanish. I'll have to work on that.

Sheets of rain just started falling from the sky and there's music blasting from the house down the street.    Let the experience begin. 

Guavaberry

Taking off in the morning for the Dominican Republic. We've been preparing for this project since January, and feels a little surreal that its actually happening. I'm excited for both the work experience and the chance to experience a new culture (and hopefully pick up some new dance moves while I'm at it).

You may have heard of the musician Juan Luis Guerra. Well he's Dominican and legendary, so I took it upon myself to become more acquainted with his music the last couple months.  While jamming on my iPod around Emory's campus, I've found merengue (one of the dances the DR is best known for) is particularly good walking music, and I've been walking around to this song a lot lately. He sings about a town called San Pedro de Macorís. I'll be in San Francisco de Macorís, so naturally, when I sing along in my head, I replace the word Pedro with Francisco.

Maybe this time tomorrow, I'll be drinking some guavaberry and watching the sun go down too. That's all I need for my first night in San Francisco de Macorís.

I'm Not Kidding

One woodsy Atlanta neighbhorhood

A storytelling imagination

A touch of scientific inquiry

A splash of community mobilization

+    A peculiar fascination with squirrels

-----------------------------------------------------

The Inman Park Squirrel Census

They're accepting volunteers for their spring census this week. 

Survey Development

So the Kenyan wing-flapping metaphor? Well, I should have taken that to heart before I took on everything I did this semester. I'm feeling pretty disheveled, as far as my feathers go. I feel kind of how this little guy looks. 

All my flapping usually just barely gets me off the ground, it seems. So many disparate tasks demand my attention. Not only are they hard to keep track of (I now have six different to-do lists on Gmail, a planner full of scribbles and a head that's about ready to spin off my neck), but every time I put my mind to something, I feel guilty for frittering away time on anything at all. By committing to a couple hours working toward one goal, I sacrifice progress on at least three others and all the while there's a nagging voice in the back of my head reminding me of it. I believe I've come down with a new disorder for the DSM V: graduate-school-induced ADD.

One upside to the whole I-have-no-life-because-I'm-in-graduate-school situation is that I'm learning a lot.  Among other things, I'm working on designing a survey study for my trip to the Dominican Republic this summer. Sounds like a simple task, right? There's a lot more to it than it seems, and I'm finding that out the hard way. Tonight I was doing some research on the Demographic Health Surveys (in public health, these are the grand poobas of surveys and worthy of emulation). The DHS is completed in many, many countries every few years, and they're considered one of the most reliable sources of data on health indicators, progress on Millennium Development Goals, etc. 

During my research tonight, I found a tidbit in which I took great solace. In my struggle to find resources on how to best put together a survey instrument, I found a table outlining the timeline of the execution of a single DHS survey: 18 months. A major survey takes eight months of preparation before you go knocking on any doors to survey people, and data collection occurs over only three of the total 18 months. What's more is that these are executed with tremendous amounts of man-power: field enumerators, supervisors, analysts, the list goes on. Surveys are an iceberg. You see them being implemented in the field, but that's just a small fraction of the work that actually goes into the study. Moral of the story:  I'm in for it, but the learning experience will hopefully be worth the struggle. 

Just keep flapping, just keep flapping, just keep flapping, flapping, flapping...

From zero to crazy in a week flat.

Yesterday's quote from my African Wisdom for Life calendar is a Kenyan proverb, "The bird which flaps its wings too much will drop its feathers." Yes, and here begins round two of my battle to maintain equilibrium between a flapping enough to keep me airborne and losing all my feathers. Three cheers for taking on too much... again!