Hi everyone!

Greetings and prayers from the Dominican Republic!  So much has happened since I left.  Originally, I didn't think that I could email or post anything until Sunday, but I found an opportunity, so here it is!  

I don{t really know where to start.  I was so excited in New York because I had never seen the ocean before.  It was scary and humbling at the same time.  Then of course, I saw a lot of ocean flying overseas to the Dominican Republic.  

The flight and airport details might bore you, but I will add them anyway because it was very interesting to me at the time.  Firstly, I was the only American on the flight from New York excepting the flight attendants. Otherwise, they were all hispanic and one asian family.  

Understandably, the instructions were all in Spanish.  Generally, not a problem because they were pretty generic and easy to understand.  The catch was when we were arriving in Santo Domingo and I needed to understand the luggage directions and customs.  To greatly condense the story, I had to search for my luggage, and then go through customs in Spanish.  Naturally, I didn{t understand all the steps, so I had to retrace my steps once or twice.

This airport was very different from O{Hare and JFK.  It was practically empty.  We seemed to be the only flight that was coming in at that time, so we had the place to ourselves.  It was also without all the commercial hubbub; no restaurants or little gift shops.  Actually, there was one place for souvenirs, but that was all.  I was very relieved after surviving Customs, but then I realized that my tracfone was useless and I had no way of contacting the Schoenstatt Sisters who were supposed to be meeting me. Oh, well.  I would have to find them eventually.  But it was no problem, as Sr. Ana Maria was waiting for me as soon as I walked out..  

She introduced me to Don Jesus, as she explained that only a very few sisters drove in the Dominican Republic, Sr. Frances Pizarro being one of the brave few.  After that car ride, I understand why.  As far as I can tell, there are no traffic rules.  There were sort of three lanes, but about five cars shared those lanes.  Although shared isn{t the right word for it.  Everyone went as fast as the person in front of them, and if that was too slow, you just passed them up.  Motorcycles wove in and out of the traffic, apparently indifferent to their safety.  If the cars were stopped at a traffic light, people walked around them, often selling things to the passengers.  Somehow, it sort of worked.  Horns were used frequently as a warning to other drivers.  The roads were also different.  They were broken at some points, and at one place had metal ridges.

As we drove, Sr. Ana Maria talked to me in English, and her superior asked questions in Spanish. They explained to me that the area by the airport was better off because of the tourists, but that the further one drove from there, the poorer it became.  But everything was poor.  No buildings looked new or well kept up. Roofs were rusted and the like.  But because everything was that way, it didn{t look all that strange.  For here, it is normal.

I am going to interrupt myself to share a message that was on a wall.  It read, POR QUE SOMOS POBRES? Why are we poor?  The question keeps haunting me.

After calling my family, I had a dinner of ham and plantains.  Plantains, for those who have not eaten them, are banana like in shape, but potato like in texture.  It{s a very filling starch.  That night I also met my housemate, Eliud.  She is a Candidate for the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary,and we will be helping each other learn our respective languages while I am here.  She is a really nice girl, and I look forward to spending time with her.  

Going to skip ahead a bit, because I only have so much computer time, and I want to get to the interesting part.

Today was my first full day at the Nutrition Center.  Yesterday I was there for half the day because the Sisters told me to sleep in.

I will begin with yesterday, because it was the beginning.  No, I will begin with background.  

The nutrition center is a mission work organized by the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary to care for poor malnourished children in La Victoria.  Their parents do not have the means or the knowledge to care for them.  To help fix the problem, the Sisters care for the children while the parents work, and then hold classes to educate the parents.  until a few years ago, the Sisters used a building in the village of La Victoria.  It was not the best situation, but it was what they had.  They had to walk through La Victoria to reach the Nutrition Center each day.  Then, the first lady heard about the Center and helped them build a new center here on the property of the Sisters.  It is larger, and clean, with electricity and running water.

Sr. Ana Maria came to show me the Center yesterday.  She gave me a short tour of the doctor{s room, the bathing rooms for the children, the kitchen, and the individual classrooms.  First I saw the babies. They were stretched out on the floor, sleeping, with two ladies watching over them.  Next was a pivotal moment.  i understood the magnetic effect.  One two year old ran to Sr. Ana Maria and hugged her.  The next thing I knew another little boy ran to me.  The instant the other children realized that we were receptive to their hugs, they came in droves.  I had five more come to me.  Then I picked up two of them, while the rest still were clinging to my legs.  With some reluctance, we allowed the teachers to peel the children off of us.

We continued on to the room in which I was to help.  The oldest children were in there.  They were all four year olds.  The classroom was noisy.  I later found out that there are 26 children in this class, with two teachers. The teachers were reading them a book when I arrived, but it was obvious that I was much more interesting than the book.  Again, the instant that they saw that they could come to me, they did.  I had two or three on my lap in an instant, with others crowded around.  After a bit, I heard “Americana!”.  yes, that is me.  These children have and give such joy.  It is hard to even explain the effect.  They were so happy to see me, a person that they knew nothing about.  They offer me their shoes to tie, or dresses to lace up.  l even saw one of my favorite boys, Weslin, untying his shoe so that I would help him with it.  They just love the attention, and give it right back! For example, shortly after I arrived, I picked up a LEGO block from the floor and pieced it together and handed it to one of the children.  I think five more came to me with LEGO pieces!

One of the things that they find so incredibly interesting about me is my hair. They have short hair too, but the girls all have it divided and either braided, or more commonly twisted and fastened with colorful bands. Their hair is of course darker and of a different texture than mine. The boys hair is all shaved very short brown curls. Anyway, I keep my hair in a ponytail, but pieces are bound to slip out, and when they do, the kids find them. It will start with one child. He or she will feel the piece of hair, rub it and pull on it a bit, and then start twisting it together, like theirs. after is is finished, they start over. by that time, three more children have seen what is happening, and they all start trying to grab pieces too, so that at some points I have had five pairs of hands in my hair. Eventually the teachers save me, but I really don{t mind. It doesn{t hurt me, and it makes them happy, so for the most part I let them touch it.

I will keep talking about the children forever, so I will wrap it up for now, but I am beginning to see why we must become like little children.  The trust and joy that these children have is incredible.  I found myself wanting to give them something, you know, like stickers or balls, but then I realized that no things were going to make them happier.  Stuff couldn{t possibly enhance the enthusiasm and the huge smiles that greet me.

Many prayers and thoughts are coming your way.  God bless!

Love,

Claire