One of the best decisions I’ve made in my service happened recently: I moved back into real Dominican life by moving myself in with a family down the street.
Let’s just say that my last couple of weeks have been filled with more hilarious moments and love than I can even begin to describe here. But I thought I would give a typical snap shot of my day-to-day:
It’s 7 a.m.
I scramble through my sheets to find the ugly glow of my Peace Corps cellphone alarm. I shut it off. My lime green mosquitero provides me with a mini labyrinth to crawl out of every morning. It’s tied to a curtain that hangs in front of the closet – a curtain that is also tied to my sister’s mosquitero.
I’ve laid out the sneaks, shorts, sports bra, and socks the night before. Just have to find my iPod, and it’s time for my morning walk/run.
It’s still cool outside and the dirt roads only service the early morning motos, dogs and chickens. Women are outside sweeping and hanging laundry in their nightgowns as I pass.
It’s 8:00 a.m.
Miguelina made coffee and has put it in a thermos on the front porch. The neighbors are talking about the latest neighborhood gossip and politics. Everyone sits and stands in their pj’s laughing and chatting.
It’s 8:30 a.m.
Only the women are in the house now. Jenny goes out back to kill a couple of chickens for lunch. She puts them in a pot to help get the feathers off and then sends one down the street to a neighbor. (I have never had to see my food live then dead in the same day… it’s kind of… strange.)
The radio is blaring reggeaton. Between sweeping rooms, mopping rooms, cooking food, and washing clothes, dance parties happen.
I’m the only white girl present… so you can imagine how that goes.
Everyone can be hard singing throughout the house.
My nephew runs around the house saying, “Liti” signaling me to pick him up and throw him.
We finish everything around 11:30.
It’s 12:30 p.m.
Lunch: Beans, rice, salad and the chicken from in the morning.
Afterward, everyone grabs the nearest rocking chair and rests a bit before hitting the kitchen for clean-up.
The Afternoon.
Nap time! (Thank God, they have a generator! This would not have been a possibility in my old house without electricity.)
If someone shows up for the salon, I hang out on the porch trying to keep my nephew from getting into trouble. (Mostly, I just pretend to be some sort of dinosaur or play hide and seek… I’d like to think I am good dinosaur.)
Telenovelas… that’s right. And I love them.
Porch-sitting. Empanada eating.
Night.
Sharing stories on the porch.
Music.This time, it’s bachata.
The occasional cool beverage.
More telenovelas.
Dinner: plantains and something fried.
It’s 11:00 p.m.
I’m hanging the labyrinth again.
Yesika and I fall asleep laughing and making fun of each other.
“Good night!” I say in English.
“Igual,” she says back.
66 more days of this 
.
