The Very Wet Dry Season

While at work this morning I was talking to a coworker at the over abundance of rain during the dry season this year. It sounds funny, but it is the honest truth. Dry season in the tropics starts in January and continues through the "summer" months. When my group of volunteers arrived in the Eastern Caribbean in February of last year it was dry, hot and waterless. I remember thinking how strange it was that everything was brown and crunchy when the picture in my mind had lush and green.

Grenada experienced one of the worst droughts in history last year, with many houses without water for days on end. It was painful, but thankfully the country made it through and the plants have recuperated. During the dry season this year, which we are currently in, its still raining at least once throughout the day. Today it has been raining consistently since I woke up this morning and the weather is predicting it to continue the rest of the day. I'm so thankful for the rain, as it helps our plants grow and our bodies stay nourished, but when its raining sideways as I walk to the bus stop, nothing is going to save my dress clothes.

Check out these pictures.

This year February: Lush and Green

Last year February: Brown and Burnt

 

I'm so sore I can't move...

After rigorous fundraising, planning and implementing we have started our school murals project at St. Paul's Government School today. I successfully carried three gallons of paint on the bus and up the hill to my school this morning. That is only the beginning of my soreness.

The principal and teachers at my school decided on an underwater scene for the corridor walls from kindergarten to 3rd grade. It will have lots of fish, crabs, shells and even a pirate ship, all equipped with math facts and word families to inspire kids to want to learn. I'm very excited to start the drawing and painting of the scene and hope everything works out perfect. I can only hope right?

Today we scrubbed the walls (enter soreness here), taped off the corners and applied the first coat of primer to the wall. We hope by putting a base coat of primer we allow the colors to be brighter and stand out more. After this coat we will be applying the sea blue color and then pencil sketching the drawing on to the wall.

Things are moving slowly, but since getting paint on the walls I can feel things speeding up a bit. I'M EXCITED!!!!!

Before picture, with tape job complete

One part of the wall

Primer complete!

Looking good.

The entire hallway that will be painted

Just Call Me Rachel Ray!

I had my moment to shine in the kitchen tonight and thought it deserved its own blog post. Just a small disclaimer before I continue. I can cook fairly well (thanks to learning young), but I have a tendency to cook the same things over and over. My recipe list under my favorites tab is RIDICULOUS, most of them never making it to my plate. I'm scared of wasting food by making something gross, so I just stare at the recipes thinking "hmmm I bet that tastes delightful".

Anyways...tonight I was pondering what in the world I was going to make for supper with the bare bones in my cabinet (a little broke this month, c'mon Peace Corps payday!) and noticed a can of black beans. My LAST can of black beans. UGH. The grocery store that carries black beans is completely out of my way, so I have to be in the right mood to make the trip and buy in large quantities. I have eaten my fair share of black beans and rice, black bean enchiladas and black bean burritos in the last few weeks that I wanted something new. Hmmm...lets refer to that wonderful recipe list and see if I'm up for getting creative. Yup, in truth I was, and thats how black bean pizza came about.

I love pizza. Any way I can incorporate cheese, sauce and bread into my diet I will do it, regardless of health consequences. I'm hitting all the major food groups right? I put veggies on pizza all the time, although I haven't found a way to incorporate fruits into pizza, hmmm. I will report back on that one asap. This pizza was an experiment but TOTALLY worth it, as it turned out one of the best pizzas I have ever made. YAY for ME!

Black Bean Callaloo Pizza Recipe

Pizza dough (I make no yeast pizza dough because I don't like little creatures causing my bread to rise)
1 can of black beans
1 tsp of cumin
1 tsp of chili powder
1 small onion
3 cloves garlic (or 7 if you like garlic like me! Its good for the immune system)
1 cup callaloo (a veggie similar to spinach and native to the Caribbean, so you can replace with spinach)
1/2 cup salsa
1 cup cheddar cheese (monterrey jack or mozzarella would be better, but we don't have it here)

Directions
1. Bake pizza dough until done, remove from oven.
2. In skillet, saute onions, garlic and callaloo until tender
3. Mash black beans in bowl with cumin and chili powder, spread evenly on pizza crust.
4. Add salsa on top of black beans.
5. Add onions, garlic and callaloo to pizza.
6. Spread delicious amounts of cheese on pizza
7. Bake at 350 for about 30 minutes.
8. Bathe in the glory of deliciousness.

Now THAT is Rachel Ray quality pizza right there. I might go to her website and nominate myself for the next up and coming star. Just saying. Hope you enjoy my new creation as much as I did.

Before taking the dive into the oven

OH. EM. GEE.

Don't you worry, I ate half the pizza!

Helpless and Vunerable

Our office had just opened for the day. Its Monday morning and things are hectic as we prepare for the week. The phone rings unexpectedly. Maybe its a coworker saying she will be late. If only...

She is hiding in a closet whispering "help" into the phone. In the background we hear the sounds of something hitting wood, but we cant make it out. She says she called 911 and they transferred her to us. Heaven forbid the police force do their job and protect its citizens, instead they transfer cases like this to the women's organization who has no legal authority, brushing her safety off as a "women's issue".

She tells us her boyfriend's uncle is trying to kick her and the baby out. He is beating on the front door with a hammer, screaming profanities. Her fight or flight told her to take the baby and hide. He continues to bang on the door, she says he is getting closer and she needs help. What are we supposed to do? The cops sent her to us.

We calm her down as the baby screams. She has lost all hope and is preparing to die when the banging of the hammer stops. The man has given up. Thank God he has given up.

After 6 hours of phone calls, threats and coordination she is safely in a shelter on the island, baby in tow and safe. She is still scared for her life but for tonight she will have a place to sleep and the promise of tomorrow.

Its amazing the gaps in the system that cause cases like this to fall through the cracks. Prevention is not a word in the vocab for local authorities on all levels. This woman would not of been helped before the incident occurred, only when that hammer would of taken her life.

Thank you world for saving this woman's life for just one more day!

Things I've Learned in the Last Year

I took the leap. We drove 2 hours to the airport: my mom, aunt kim and best friend. I was ready for the adventure but inside I was scared to death. I wouldn't dare show that to my family who were letting me chase my dreams while they stayed behind. I hugged them tight, told them I loved them and disappeared into the airplane tunnel. They didn't see me cry. I held it together, that is until I reached my seat on the plane and the water works started. I was leaving everything I had ever known, my best friends and the town that raised me up. I had no idea what was to come but I knew it was where my heart told me to go. For an entire year I held on to the dream of living in a new culture and changing the world while maybe learning a little about myself. And then I got the call from Peace Corps that would change my life forever.

I got on that plane ride one year ago today. It seems like forever ago, yet I remember it like it was just yesterday. So much has happened in the last year I couldn't begin to put it into words. I started reflecting on all the past blog posts to travel the journey again, trying to remind myself and the accomplishments I have under my belt already. But its not enough for me, my journey is not complete. I still have 13 months of service here in Grenada. I remember thinking I could never make it 27 months of service and now I'm here 12 months later. I did it. I feel energized for the next 13 months of service.

Things I've learned in the last 12 months:

• It is ok to not know what you are doing. Swallow your pride and pretend like you do.
• When times get tough, reflect on where you have been and where your eyes are set on going.
• Support systems are mandatory for being a good volunteer. Thanks to all the friends, family and volunteers who have lent me a place to vent, cry and laugh during these tough times.
• I am qualified, I must believe in myself to use those qualifications.
• Do the best you can with what you are given.
• Caribbean rum doesn't mess around.
• Nature is what calms my nerves, energizes me for tomorrow and tells me things will be alright.
• I'm alot stronger than I give myself credit for. 
• Living alone has taught me more about myself than I ever thought possible.
• I miss home and cant wait to return to Missouri. Its honestly where my heart will always be. 
• Life is to short for many so we must learn to live it while its here. (RIP Alec and BJ)
• America truly is the greatest country in the world. We should all feel so blessed. 
• Life. Goes. On.
• Being a vegetarian is fun!
• Language is situational.
• This is my personal journey and no one but myself can define it.

Cheers to the next 13 months of service. May it be more blessed than the last year and my we all continue to remember children are everyone's future, so invest in kids!!!!

Realities

"Faith is the strength by which a shattered world shall emerge into the light" - Helen Keller.

I have vivid memories from childhood about consequences. I was a kid that liked to test my limits, see how far I could go just to make people laugh. But what I also remember is my mom telling me no matter the wrong you do, you always attempt to make it right. I can remember being mean to the neighbor kid and my mom making me go over there and apologize to both him and his parents. It wasn't that the act of being mean was going to destroy this kids world but it was just the right thing to do. This lesson followed me through my entire childhood and adolescence as I attempted to define my life. No matter what obstacle or roadblock I have been met with I always try to make it right.


I'm a kind hearted, fun, passionate and giving person. I'm not one to take life to seriously, so when the word courage or bravery comes up, its not typically under my name. But on the flop side, when someone does something I don't agree with I cant help but say something. Brave people save people from burning buildings, serve our country and swim with sharks. I wish to do none of those things and commend the people who choose to. I'm scared of the dark, can't stand pain, cry when sad movies come on and bruise easily.  But when someone stands up for what they believe in, something they don't agree with, is that being brave? Or is it simply doing what your parents taught you from a young age....the right thing.

She walks into class with a frown on her face. Her hair is unbrushed with no required bow. Her shirt has yesterdays lunch on it, but you'd never know she hasn't ate in over 24 hours. Her dad recently went to prison, leaving the family with no income. She has 6 brothers....the only girl. No one talks about how her dad landed in prison but we all know its for selling his only daughter to the village men. They took their turns on her until she cried so loud the neighbors complained. She is 6 years old. Every time I see this child I hold her in my arms as if it were the last time I will ever get to. Her life is shattered and has barely started.

Her eye is swollen shut. Her head presents gashes the size of the island. She has been beat repeatedly with a hammer by a man she claims to love. She cant leave is what she says. Four kids with a fifth on the way. How will she support her kids through school when he controls the money? She says she deserved it. She said that last time he put her in the hospital. The father still walks the streets as if he didn't just put his lover in the hospital. He says she deserved it for not listening and she should learn better next time. She dies two days later. I attend her funeral with tears running down my face, knowing she could of got out with the right support system in place to assist her.

She is the shining light of the classroom. Never one to complain and always goes the extra mile to ensure her work makes her teachers proud. She lost her parents to AIDS a year ago, just one week apart. You could never tell she lives in a shelter for girls by the way her clothes are pressed nicely, not a wrinkle in sight. Her hair is always braided and you wont see a speck of dirt on her. She loves to read, choosing to spend her time reading in the corner over playing jump rope outside. She told me she wants to study in America, become a doctor and research AIDS until she finds a cure. She has more potential then any of the well off children in class, but will she ever get to use it? I look at her with such inspiration, hoping this world helps her out.

His favorite color is pink. But he would never tell his friends that, so its blue. He spends his time researching famous gay people of the U.S. like Ricky Martin, Ellen Degeneres and Lance Bass. He went on a date with a girl this week but explained to me he had a terrible time. She made him do things he had no interest in while his friends cheered him on. He has become an introvert because he feels he cant share his emotions with anyone. Secretly at night he cries to himself in pain that one day he will be able to be himself. He is gay, but not in this society. He sneaks out of class to my room to talk to me just so he can vent his feelings. He feels safe with me. My heart shatters everyday he tells me how much he is hurting inside. I wish I could take it all away.

Issues like above are true stories that I wish I could say I made up, but I didn't. These aren't news stories that get overlooked and brushed to the side with talk of wars and economic stability. This is the reality here, one that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck, my heart break and my nights sleepless. For the first time in my life I'm experiencing something I cant research and find the answers to (I tried), or even begin to conquer myself. My mother reminds me I cant do this alone and need the help of everyone around me. She tells me to relax and remember how blessed I am and where I came from, but that isn't solving these immediate problems. I want to help these kids more then I want to do anything in this world, so I must believe what she tells me and do exactly what I have been trained to do: Doing the best I can with what I have.

Some people see the worlds problems and say "that's sad", others stand up, take responsibility and do something about it....

Independence Day Pageant 2011

Today was the annual Independence Day Pageant at St. Paul's primary school. The actually day of Independence is next Monday but the island has been preparing and celebrating for a few weeks now. My students practiced each day for the event and were so excited to showcase their talents to the audience, which consisted of their parents, friends and community members. Selected participants went through a variety of rounds from talents to modeling and even written questions. At the conclusion of the pageant, judges announced the winner of the pageant, one male and one female. The videos below are the respected winners. Enjoy!

Arianna and Diamond

The modeling group

Samuel not so excited about his picture being taken

The choir

Nakia during her preformance

Divon and Livon