I had arranged with the health promoter in the batey nearby to start the income generation project with her group yesterday.  We were going to make Mistolin (floor cleaning stuff that they use when they mop).  By selling this, along with other things we’re going to make in the future (soap, shampoo, menthol, etc) the group can start a “bank” to save money for not only their activities, but community needs as well.

I got all of the chemicals together (heavy stuff), and walked the 40 minutes to this woman’s house.  She was not there.  At this point in my service, this really is not surprising.  Apparently she had a legit excuse, and was helping out in the school.  She does, however, have my phone number.  I then spent some time talking to a few of the women in this batey (and by that I mean, I sat there and drank/ate everything they handed me).  All the gossip started flowing, and I come to find out that half of this community hates the health promoter currently in charge.  Enemigos, they are.  Needless to say, some good came from my 40 minute walk (besides the snacking)…we are going to form a second health promoter training group in that batey.  This will have me overseeing 4 Hogares Saludables (Health Homes) groups now.

My walk home turned into a 3 hour parade through the community, stopping at various houses, and being tricked into sitting through a rosary session.  As I awkwardly sat myself under the watchful eye of the slightly terrifying, over-sized poster of Jesus himself, I thought to myself…”God, please let there be more snacks here, I deserve that, no?”  October is “the month of the rosary” here and EVERY SINGLE AFTERNOON, everyone meets at a different person’s house to…I have no idea…pray the rosary…loudly…several times.  Needless to say, I can’t get the adults to do much of anything in my own site (although, my afternoons are quite tranquilo now – except when I accidentally find myself at one of these rosary parties).  In the end, not much past some planning was achieved, but it was, as always, an entertaining day.

 

Shot of my family’s house from the hill behind.

The kids at work, mopping my floor.  I swear, they always ask me if they can do that.  I don’t make them, that often.

My neighbor, Mercedes.  Love her!

My host dad cutting off the outer part of the coconut for me.

On my front porch.

View from my new hammock.  I can’t complain…