Category: Archive (page 5 of 8)

Stories from further back in the Honors blog history

Day 2: Santiago and Dajabón

~9:30 PM

   

Our group has just returned to the hotel on Day 2 of the University of Delaware Honors Program UDaB trip and I resist the urge to watch the Indiana Jones film playing on our television. Instead, I reflect on the day and am only vaguely aware of the din of vehicle traffic, speeding motorbikes, and honking drivers that remind me that Santiago nightlife is still active. I ignore the impulse to look out my window and start to remember how the day began and our van trip to Dajabón this morning….


 ~9:15 AM

The van awaits us and our destination is Dajabón, a border town between Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Thirteen of us crowd into the van and it is close quarters, even with the luggage tied to the roof. I remember taking a piece of chicle, or chewing gum, to ward off motion sickness in case there were bumpy roads or traffic along the way. We all had graham cracker provisions because the trip would take a few hours and would pass by military checkpoints as we neared the border between Haiti and the DR. Once I was situated in the van, my view was restricted to backpacks, fellow passengers, and the bobbing of the tree-shaped air freshener the van driver had wisely affixed to the rearview mirror. Looking out the van window, I was entertained with a picturesque mountain landscape, wide open fields and clear skies.

The view from my window seat. As we drove we saw green pastures and fields give way to a more arid landscape.

The view from my window seat. As we drove we saw green pastures and fields give way to a more arid landscape.

Road trip scenery: the inside of the van as seen from my seat

Road trip scenery: the inside of the van as seen from my seat

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometime that afternoon:

After a brief stop in Esperanza to drop off our luggage, we finally reached Dajabón. Once there, we checked into our hotel, put on a preemptive layer of picaridin bug spray to deter the wildlife and headed over to Dona Pura’s for lunch. We collectively devoured a variety of chicken, rice and vegetable dishes, and enjoyed homemade pineapple and orange juices – as well as a drink called “avena” that tasted like Creamsicles! After the long van trip we were all eager to walk around and stretch, so after eating, we walked toward the “old” border.

The whole gang. Dona Pura's meals were so good we returned the next day for lunch.

The whole gang. Dona Pura’s meals were so good we returned the next day for lunch.

 As we walked, we felt the warm tropical heat and stopped to sample ice pops sold by two boys traveling through the streets with their coolers. Upon reaching the arch of the Dominican military station, we had our first view of Haiti peeking through the camouflaged-style painted archway. Passing through the arch and walking out onto the border bridge, we were soon deterred by barbed wire and a padlocked gate.

Our group on the Dominican side of the border with Haiti in the background.

Our group on the Dominican side of the border with Haiti in the background.

 However, it was the view to the sides of the bridge that had the most impact on me. Along the banks of a slow flowing river, groups of women were washing clothes, children were splashing in the water and numerous garments were left on bare dirt and rock to dry. I was struck by the contrast between what I had seen in the DR and what I was now seeing in Haiti. The Haitians appeared to lack resources and basic services while the Dominicans seemed to be more affluent. When the Haitian children and the occasional adult looked up at us, I felt uncomfortable seeing their poverty. Looking back, I realize now that while there was a physical gap between my group on the bridge and the locals below us, the gulf between our experiences and struggles was far wider. As an outsider looking in, I could only imagine what their lives were like and found it difficult to comprehend their struggles. As I watched trash float in the river and animals wade through the same water that people were using to wash their clothing, I was aware of how much I take for granted living in the United States. Furthermore, I began to think about what responsibility the United States and other wealthy nations have to assist struggling countries such as Haiti. 

 To the left and right of the gate we could see Haitian children playing in the water, people swimming, and women washing clothes.

To the left and right of the gate we could see Haitian children playing in the water, people swimming, and women washing clothes.

Seeing the border between the Dominican Republic and Haiti also made me begin to question things. Why was the bridge so heavily fortified when the border below was a shallow river with only sparse vegetation? Where did the Haitian people actually live? Why couldn’t these people locate a more desirable water source? I struggled to fathom their daily experiences and despite my pictures and notes from the bridge, later that day I still couldn’t believe what I had seen.

One of the boys who talked to us from the other side of the bridge.

One of the boys who talked to us from the other side of the bridge.

 After the visit to the “old” border bridge, we traveled to the “new” border. This was an entirely different atmosphere, where we saw the bustle of commerce as people crossed the border with their wares in both directions. With the help of our guides, we began to notice the inequities that existed at the border. For instance, on the road deck of the bridge, we saw concrete deposited in rectangular grids. We soon learned that this was a Dominican government directive that these rectangles be filled with bleach to form pools of disinfectant on the bridge’s surface. The rationale behind this was so that when the Haitians came to do business in the Dominican Republic, they would be forced to walk through this bleach – ostensibly to prevent the spread of cholera. Since there is no scientific basis to prevent cholera in this manner, this practice provided insight into the skewed power dynamics on the island. Likewise, as we stood at the border, we actually witnessed Haitians being deported. A pickup truck on the Dominican side of the border slowed as it approached the bridge and then the guards at the border opened the gate and escorted the men out of the truck and towards the gate. I was shocked by the size of the group and how the deportation began and ended in mere moments. This made me think of the articles we had read before the trip and I contemplated if this scene would become more familiar if recent Dominican immigration rulings are enforced.

Now that Day 2 of the trip is over, I realize that this UDaB trip will teach me more about the island, its people, and their history than I ever expected. Having seen first-hand the realities of life for those on the border, I now have a better sense of the struggles they face and the obstacles of their everyday lives. My desire to help and volunteer on the island has been strengthened and I expect that today’s itinerary will be one of the most memorable parts of the trip. Looking back, I am beginning to understand that this border journey will continue to shape my perspective long after I cross the U.S. border and return home.

 

~Tim D’Agostino, 2016

 

Day 1: Santiago

Following a long night spent in the New York City airport, it was so amazing to walk out of the Santiago airport and be greeted by warm weather!  I never thought that I would be so grateful for humidity!  Dana and Jon, the Yspaniola representatives, met us outside the airport with fresh pineapple and bananas they had just bought at the market, a wonderful and delicious surprise.  As we traveled to our hotel, it was immediately noticeable just how different life in the DR is from the US.  The towns we drove through were very poor, possibly poorer than I had expected.

 

It surprised me when I was told that we had reached Santiago.  Being that it is a major city, I expected a more tourist-oriented environment but witnessed quite the opposite.  I learned that while Santiago is a major city in the DR, it is not built for tourism and therefore does not have the features I expected to find in a city. 

 

day1santiagofirstimage

 

We then got to walk around the city quite a bit before lunch.  I will admit that it was very uncomfortable being a member of a group of 10 Americans walking down the main streets in Santiago.  People immediately approached us for money or were yelling at us from across the street.  What was really cool though was that while walking around, we ran into four girls from the Batey that Dana knows.  They were in the city for the graduation ceremony of one of the Yspaniola scholars, Julio.  I later learned that Julio is the first Yspaniola scholar to graduate college.  I can only imagine how important of a day it must have been for both him and the Batey.

 

Then it was lunch time!  It is safe to say that I always had a full stomach after meals in the DR.  I made sure to clean my plate, as I am preparing myself for leaving clean plates at my host family’s house.  I have heard that Timami, my host mother, enjoys it when her guests eat all of their food.  I think I could talk for paragraphs alone on how rich and flavorful the food here is, but I’ll save your taste buds the trouble!  What was really interesting about lunch was that little children were standing outside of the restaurant selling stuff and staring at us while we ate.  It was hard not to look at them.  I felt bad for them when I realized that this is what they do everyday.

 

day1santiagosecondimage

 

Our group also got a visit from a stray cat during lunch.  The animal situation here is quite interesting in that there have been a number of stray dogs and cats I have seen wandering throughout the city.  This was also the case during a winter service trip I took to Puerto Rico this past year.  It is such a culture shock to see the dozens of hungry dogs and cats stranded on the streets.

 

day1santiagosecondimage

day1santiagoimage4

 

 

 zzzzzzzZZZZZZZzzzz….It was siesta time!  Having had minimal sleep in the last 24 hours, everyone came to the conclusion that rest was necessary before dinner.

 

Before heading to dinner, we walked quite a ways to a monument constructed by Trujillo, an infamous dictator of the DR, for himself during his reign.  There were a bunch of stairs to get up to the monument, but once at the top the view was breathtaking.  Unfortunately, the gates to the monument itself were locked, so we were unable to climb up higher.  We hung out and watched the sun set over the mountains, a memory I will never forget.

 

day1santiagoimage5

day1santiagoimage6

 

 

 

For dinner, you guessed it!  We had tostones (fried plantains) and chicken!  I honestly do not think that I could ever get sick of this food.  Ask me again in a week and my answer may change!  We finished the day off with some ice cream and got to bed early.  It is crazy to think that we have only been in the Dominican Republic for a little over 12 hours!  We walked the streets of Santiago so frequently today that I already feel so comfortable with it all.  I cannot wait to see what the rest of this week has in store for us!

~Nick Martin, 2016

How to Play Quidditch

Imagine a sport involving seven positions, six hoops, and five balls all in one game. That sounds crazy, right? Well, it does exist, and it is called Quidditch.

 

PAUSE. Did I really just say Quidditch? Indeed, I did. You may have heard of Quidditch from J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. In her books, the sport is played by wizards on flying broomsticks. We obviously cannot fly on broomsticks in real life, so how can Quidditch be made into a real sport?

 

The International Quidditch Association (IQA) explains the rules nicely:

 

 “Three chasers score goals worth 10 points each with a volleyball called the quaffle. They advance the ball down the field by running with it, passing it to teammates, or kicking it. Each team has a keeper who defends the goal hoops. Two beaters use dodgeballs called bludgers to disrupt the flow of the game by “knocking out” other players. Any player hit by a bludger is out of play until they touch their own goals. Each team also has a seeker who tries to catch the snitch. The snitch is a ball attached to the waistband of the snitch runner, a neutral athlete in a yellow uniform who uses any means to avoid capture. The snitch is worth 30 points and its capture ends the game. If the score is tied after the snitch catch, the game proceeds into overtime.

 

You basically take the sport right from the book, but instead of flying on broomsticks, you run around with pvc pipe between your legs! The co-ed, contact sport of Quidditch mixes elements of Rowling’s vision with sports like rugby, dodge ball, and tag in order to make it applicable to us “muggles.” It can be dangerous, but is also one of the most fun sports that you will ever play. I promise!

 

However, the most amazing thing about Quidditch to me is the community that has been built around the sport. Schools and communities around the world have joined the IQA by creating their own Quidditch teams. There are multiple tournaments throughout the year, including the Quidditch World Cup, where teams who qualify come from around the world to compete against each other for the title of World Champions. I have not yet been to the Quidditch World Cup, but I have watched a few tournaments and boy, is it a sight to see! Even though the teams are competing against each other, they still interact with each other as if they are family! There is so much love and friendship woven throughout the Quidditch community, and it is something so beautiful to see. Through Quidditch, you can make life-long friends from around the world. I believe that the bond between Quidditch players is something stronger than any other sport could create. It is something that you could never learn in a classroom, and I encourage everyone to look into watching (or playing in) a real Quidditch game at some point. You won’t regret it!

~Heather Brody

Their sport may come from a fictional book series, but these Quidditch players aren't messing around.

Their sport may come from a fictional book series, but these Quidditch players aren’t messing around.

How To: Live in close quarters with another human being

There is no course on “being a successful roommate”.  To be even the most average roommate requires a great deal of frustrating and embarrassing trial and error.

My roommate was a rise-and-commence-death-stare type of person. I liked to get up early and run. She loved Luke Bryan and I preferred Kanye. Her hometown was approximately 90 minutes away and mine was over 2,000 miles across the country. We weren’t compatible in every department. We both had flaws. I was prone to leaving the door unlocked at highly inconvenient times and she tended to let her alarm clock go off for about 15 minutes every day. It wasn’t always easy, living between old cinderblocks and hard tile.

Screen Shot 2014-04-23 at 11.35.34 AM

There were times when I wished that I had been assigned a single, when I longed to have some privacy and solidarity. For the most part however, those feelings were minimal. As hard as it was to live in such close quarters, nothing compares to having a partner in both cohabitation and crime. Nothing compares to getting ready for parties with someone, coping with the stresses of spring registration with someone, wearing all black and fishnets with someone, purchasing half a dozen St. Patrick’s Day cupcakes on St. Patrick’s Day with someone. There is nothing that compares to having someone by your side on a big and scary college campus.

I still live with my freshman year roommate. I realized after that first year that we clashed just enough to keep things interesting, that we didn’t mind silence, that we loved clean dishes and swept floors, that we could live together and manage to be friends. I realized that I couldn’t imagine walking home late at night for chips and salsa on the floor with anyone else. I realized that I couldn’t imagine waking up to any other death stare or to any other elongated alarm clock. This college campus was still big and scary and I needed to have her around.

In the fall, I’ll have a new roommate. I don’t yet know her flaws and I don’t know which flaws she will find in me. I will however miss the old roomie, the future CEO and Italian language pro who is going abroad. So Jess, if you’re reading this, know that I will continue to improve my roommate skills, that I will be lonely and a little scared without you here, even as a junior. Know that there will be chips and salsa waiting for you on the floor of Sharp when you get back.

The Biggest Bowl of the Year

Super Bowl Sunday. What a day. It is a day where dreams are fulfilled and champions are crowned. It is a day of emotion, passion, and love for a common game.  For many across the grand, old USA, it is a national holiday. Parties are thrown, delicious food is consumed, and football fans from all over come out to support the two teams talented and lucky enough to have made the game. Those football fans include me.

Admittedly, I am not a huge football fan. While I enjoy watching the games and support the Giants regularly, it is not a passion of mine. To be honest, because I know little about many teams, the way that I chose which team I will be rooting for in any given game is by looking up pictures of the quarterbacks. I then pick the team with the more attractive quarterback to be the one that I support. Surprisingly, this method has worked out quite well for me.  But, the Super Bowl is a different story.

As a kid, for me, the big game was all about the food and the commercials. My mom would cook up a delicious feast of appetizers and, sometimes, if my siblings and I were lucky enough, my dad would make milkshakes. It was a meal to look forward to! And then, the commercials. It is no secret that the best advertisements of the year are shown during the most popular television event. I would eagerly await these commercials all year, and I would make a point to only leave the room when the game was on, so that I wouldn’t miss any.

However, as I have grown up, I have come to love the Super Bowl. I find myself looking forward to the game, eagerly watching the playoffs (even when the Giants miss making it by a mile), and throwing my support heavily behind one team. So while I cannot tell you all of the players in the NFL or even all of the rules in the game, this year I will be rooting passionately for one team and quite possibly yelling at my TV.

But, the Super Bowl is more than the game, the commercials, and the food. For me, it is about the sense of passion, unity, and patriotism. There is something comforting about knowing that millions of people are watching the game and having the same experience with you. All over the country, people are cheering for their team, screaming at their TVs and cautiously hoping for a win. Heck, millions of people are even using the bathroom at the same time as you. Toilets across America will be flushed 19 million times during halftime (yes, that is true). Not to mention the thousands of fans who are sticking out the cold New Jersey weather for the experience of a lifetime witnessing the game in person.

The Super Bowl is not only the biggest bowl of the year, but is also an American tradition that represents the best values (passion, spirit, competition) of our great country.

~Rebecca Jaeger

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