Wednesday 25 April 2012

my first 'make a difference' story

I woke up today dreading the morning. I was extremely nervous to spend more time doing outreach with younger at risk youth because the day before at the Kingston YMCA had gone so poorly (although I had been completely unprepared.) The kids were unruly, our plan of attack was weak, and my information limited. This morning though, I was ready.

I walked out of the peace corps bus onto LEAP (essentially a school which teaches at risk youth basic trades for employment) school's grounds armed with HIV notes, condoms, dildos and a game plan. We were greeted by a principal who proceeded to make inaprorpiate conversation with us, and were finally led to the students. We introduced ourselves, lined up the students, and seperated them into a few groups of 10 (at the YMCA we had learned that smaller groups work much better.)

We then led our group into a small (air conditioned!) room. Two truths and lie was our first activity. In this game, the students were to give three facts about themselves, and the others had to guess which of the three statements was a lie. Most of the statements revolved around simple things such as food or Jamaican football but allowed us to create rapport with the kids as well as give insight into the group dynamics,  personalities, and gage attentiveness. Much like sales you have to know your client and gain trust before you can get into the nitty gritty work.

Our second activity was led my me. I ran an HIV hot potato game, where if the music (we played Jamaican dancehall music which I think helped to further build rapport) stopped the student holding the hot patato (wad of individual paper layers) had to unwrap a layer. Each paper layer had a number which correlated to a question pertaining to healthy sex. A lot of the questions were aimed at creating a basic knowledge of HIV; some of the questions were to demonstrate proper condom usage or disposal.
Most of kids had at least a basic knowledge, although there was one student who actually knew each exact step and was able to demonstrate for the rest of the group which was both helpful and impressive. (I like to encourage group knowledge rather than lectures because hearing life lessons from your peers is always more effective.) Besides a few hiccups with kids not wanting to touch the dildo, (Jamaica is extremely homophobic) the activity went really well and the students were able to discuss what they had learned.

Our second activity was led by the other two PCTs in my group. We defined long and short term goals, while encouraging the students to create their own chart of long and short term personal and career goals. Most of the students were at least able to draw their goals, (a few were unable to write) and a few more were willing to share. During this time I became aware of  a slower student. During his turn to share, he spoke very quietly and extremely slowly. A few of the other students explained that he was "slow" (I replied no problem) but I 'took time' (as they say in Patwa) and kneeled down to his eye level to look him in the eye, trying to show patience and understanding. I believe he felt more comfortable and continued what he was saying a bit more confidently. During this time we walked around to each student giving them personal attention to help them to create plans for the goals. Some of the goals were to acquire materials (cars, houses) others were career orientated (chefs, football coaches) and a few were to have a family which I found both sweet and a bit scary (these were mostly 16/17 year olds!)

The kids were as attentive as they possibly could be (I was impressed) and fairly effectively completed the activities and discussions. We then rewarded them to a  paper airplane contest to see whose could fly the longest-- led by the male PCT. The students absolutely loved it. It was really awesome to connect with them-- as I could tell a lot of them are not regularly respected by adults especially teachers (a lot of them had not completed high school.) I think they really appreciated our respect and really  enjoyed our time together. At the end of the day the teacher approached us to say that she had never seen them so engaged let alone completely happy to ignore the break they were apparently supposed to have. As we waited for the bus to take us back, I was elated to have made a visible difference and to share in camaraderie with some of the students who were asking us when we'd come back and if I'd be their girlfriend (both slightly alarming and flattering.) What an amazing experience. I left saddened thinking about how, due to its location in Kingston,  peace corps volunteers are not placed with LEAP. 

Sunday 15 April 2012

one, two, erbody pump ya fist

All weekend I had been excited for our second HIV outreach event in Kingston. I had heard it would be a carnival and we were to pass out condoms. The idea flowed in my head: awesome costumes, dancing and an all around amazing time-- while still doing worthwhile outreach. When the day finally arrived we received a text explaining that Jamaica Aids Support had bailed but we were still going. I was a bit confused as to why we were going if not do outreach, but was still really excited to get out and see some floats.



Around 12pm, we got on our first coaster (these are the mini-buses that drive insanely fast on various planned routes across Jamaica) and arrived in Kingston about 20mins later. After a bathroom/ice cream break at Devon House (really famous homemade Jamaican ice cream http://www.devonhousejamaica.com/)  we walked to the corner and awaited the parade. About a half hour later,  we began to hear extremely loud dancehall music and from a distance noticed a few floats sponsored by cell phone carriers. Around five minutes later came a high school marching band, a giant float full of people daggering (essentially grinding) to dancehall music, costumed bikini clad woman, jacked men with cowboy hats, drunk tourists, and pretty much every person you could imagine. It was a giant burrito of wild drunk fun.  Women of all shapes colors and sizes were dancing, daggering, singing, and drinking in beautiful bikini costumes. Some of the bikini costumes were amazing-- bejeweled, peacock feathers, feathered boots,  pretty much anything you could imagine. People on the floats were going crazy; daggering, drinking and unfortunately not handing out beads. I absolutely loved every minute of it. 

At one point myself, and a few other volunteers got right in the middle of the parade and broke it down under the pouring rain. One of my favorite dancehall songs came on and the float MC screamed "one two erbody pump ya fist!" There were 1000's of jamaicans and us dancing and fist pumping in the pouring rain-- it was awesome.  At this moment I realized I love Jamaica. Unfortunately anything this fun comes with a price, and when we were found to not be wearing the expensive bracelets that allow you entrance into the middle of the parade, we were sidelined. We walked over to the sidewalks where people were partying just as hard: there were cameras, blowing vuvuzelas, yelling, more daggering, drinks being thrown everywhere, and just generally a joyous crazy atmosphere. It was during this time a large man danced to the front of me and I just laughed and danced right behind him. The last time I had had this much fun was at Mardi Gras New Orleans, where the beads were abundant but the dancing and culture lacked in comparison. On our walk back to the coaster we stopped to observe two people daggering each other on the ground in a large puddle. Only in Jamaica. 

Here's a few of the popular dancehall songs right now: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLWN1qyxwbM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8EGI6_SqmU
watch and enjoy.

One Love,
D

Tuesday 10 April 2012


Been so many days of longing now
Why should it ever be this far
Where I get frightened
I could never gather birds enough to carry 'round your part
But I see traces of your thoughts out here
I see a sight; I hear a sound

I only comfort in the brittleness of days when I can hold what I just found
In the untired eyes of the laughing child
And the dirtiest sweater he owns
Early, sun-warmed pine
And all those life-like sins
That will pull out the memories to show
I'm not leavin' alone
I'm not leavin' alone

If just that weather-beatin' plane was here
Haven't seen it since I came
Can only wonder if it's near or in the skies
When this damn city sounds the same

And sometimes I'm just a tangle in this trampled wheat
I circle like a losing dog
If just tonight that I could be where you are near
And just forget where I am lost

In the untired eyes of the laughing child
And the dirtiest sweater he owns
Early, sun-warmed pine
And all those life-like sins
That will pull out the memories to show
Not leavin' alone
I'm not leavin' alone
I'm not leavin' alone 
-tallest man on earth







Friday 6 April 2012

Pedicure... Jamaican Style


*special thanks to caroline s. for the title*
One thing I've learned to get used to is being a minority. Being a white person in a primarily black environment, speaking only English in a Patwa culture, and so fourth. Being a minority means lots of misunderstandings/awkward moments. Luckily the more you travel, the more you become able to deal with these moments-- you learn to laugh at yourself very quickly. Last night was proudly my first in Jamaica.

So the previous night I went to church for the 3rd time since being here. I've honestly gone to more Church in Jamaica than I've ever gone to Temple in my life. Last night was one of the more interesting church experiences to say the least....

I get home from ultimate frisbee after training, and am introduced to the current volunteer who stayed at this homestay before me. She arrived to spend Easter weekend with us and I was excited to meet her. We hug, briefly discuss experiences and laughs, and are hurried off to church. Normally at church I follow along, at times sing, and just try to stay generally quiet and not fall asleep. However, this church night was a bit more interactive...

Half way through the service the PCV and a church member behind us ask me if I want to get my feet washed. I look at her with complete confusion and immediately look down at my feet and think, wow my feet must smell so bad people are talking about it! I then try inconspicuously to take a whiff of my feet. The strange thing was they didn't really smell or look that dirty. Realizing the look of disgust and confusion on my face she starts laughing and I explain that I don't want to wash my feet. I am returned to my thoughts, wondering just what the hell is going on.  A few minutes later chairs are put out on the alter and people are starting to line up and sit on the chairs. I await the happenings and notice one empty chair left. Before I can even guess, I  am soon caught in eye contact with the man who was previously sitting behind us. He is now on the alter dressed in a traditional robe and pointing at me to get into the chair. I look behind me, he must be looking for someone else. I point to myself and mouth the words, 'me?' I look again behind me, nope he really is talking to me. Oh god, I'm supposed to get up there and do god knows what. I nervously walk up to the alter and sit in the last remaining chair. Here I am, the Jew in church on good friday awaiting my feet washing. I sit in the chair trying not to laugh, thinking about my family and how hilarious they'd think this was.

I am reminded of a childhood memory when my mother forgot to pick me up, and as a result I went to church with my best friend and her family. I remember lining up, (because hey, that's what all the other people were doing) and being feed something extremely bland to eat followed by some grape juice. When my mother finally came to pick me up, she asked me what went on in. I explained that I went to church and had a snack. I will never forget my mother laughing and explaining that I had eaten Jesus (man you would think jesus would taste waaayyy better!) and I remember immediately worrying if I was no longer a Jew.

I am brought back to reality as the preacher comes into view. I watch him poor water on the woman before me and rub her feet. Sweet a free pedicure! It is then my turn.  I take a deep breathe and put my right foot out in front of the preacher. He pours water on my feet, rubs my foot, and towels it off. I nervously smile. If he had just given me a pedicure, I would be thanking and paying him at this point. I follow the others and put my shoes back on and walk back to my seat with a pretty zen'd out feeling-- maybe it was the foot rub?  I was pretty happy to have my rite-of-passage into Jamaica completed.

p.s.- just wanted to update yall and say were in our new homestays in stonyhill. mine is baller, an awesome sister my age, a grandma, and HOT WATER/INTERNET! sweeet. Also this monday we started job-specific training so we've been getting a lot more youth education as well as HIV info... a lot of the children here are up against a lot: bad parenting, poor sex education, young mothers, gangs, etc... so we have our work cut out for us!