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Pimp like papito

Date
Sep, 20, 2001
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Note to readers: This is a review of my personal journal from my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Dominican Republic more than a decade ago. I have done my best not to edit or censor what I wrote then. Time moves on, I learn things, and I no longer feel the same. Part of the joy of reading old journals is seeing a story arc where I’ve learned new things.

20 September

Papito is the King of the barrio. Papito does not walk. Papito pimps. He swaggers through the hood saying “esssssoooooooooo” to everyone, and checking out the women. He’s a good kid, this Papito.

This afternoon, I went to the store with Papito. One woman teased Papito that he had a twin in me. It’s true– I want to pimp like Papito, no doubt about it.

Papito says that eating codfish makes a man more virile. He doesn’t work, but he dresses well, and everyone in the barrio knows him.

Ondina had a bad day today. Her back has been acting up, and she’s got a lot of work to do. She’s obviously worried and distracted. Today we got back from the store (Super Olé) and couldn’t find something we bought. Ondina totally freaked out and had me go through the receipt item by item until finally we found everything.

Ondina obviously enjoys, or at least seems to enjoy, doing special things for me. She likes to cook, and she likes to cook exactly what I want. It’s as if I were her doll. She even bought new place settings just for me. The spread of food is always extensive, or at least it has been for the last couple of days. She has consistently put out more on the table than I can eat, and seems discouraged when I don’t finish it off.

Other notes for 20 September 2001

1. Some things bought at Super Olé

  • Beef intestine
  • Olives
  • Lots of pasta
  • brocoli, cukes, and unripe tomatoes (Ondina “I don’t like these but you Americans do, right?”)
  • total spent: 1k RD pesos
  • space in cab filled: the trunk of the taxi

2. I really made an ass out of myself trying to demo a condom today. It’s a result of the same problem I have of drawing attention to myself and then becoming self-conscious when everyone looks at me. I tried to do the sex-educator trick of putting a condom on my head and blowing it up, but, perhaps due to lack of recent practice, it just burst. Everyone laughed, and I felt ashamed.

3. I met Ondina’s daughter Eliza today, along with her husband, whose name was Jorge, I think?

4. I talked with my parents today for the first time in country

5. Meals today

Breakfast 1 pan de agua
lechoga
OJ
coffeee
Lunch habichuela con arroz
Dinner Pasta with sauce
habichuela y arroz
juice
potatoes, eggs, and onions used as topping

6. Shits today:

  • somewhat softer than normal, long turd, khaki color
  • earnestly, I’m sure that diarrhea is on its way as I felt pretty queasy when I got up this morning

7. Why did we elect a chimp for president? He’s moving troops to the Middle East, the asshole, and is creating a cabinet post called “The Minister for Internal Security.”
8. I don’t mind the cultural situation so much. My Spanish serves me okay and I’ve been in much poorer quarters. What does bother me is the way that the training staff and the host families (Ondina) infantilize the Peace Corps Trainees. We have no freedom, and our ability to move around is severely constrained. I haven’t felt so hemmed-in since I was sixteen or something like that. I also resent that Peace Corps Training up to this moment has consisted almost entirely of messages about what we should worry about or watch out for.

If I were a tourist or anthropologist or true professional, I would be making my way on my own just fine by now, but instead, I have to listen to a tedious lecture about a thousand ways to get sick, a hundred was to be robbed, and ten ideas about how to be kicked out of the Peace Corps. Meh. M-E-H Meh.

When this time is up, though, it’ll be worth it, I’m sure.

 

You can see the journal entries as I post them here. The last post was We watch you lonely and loquacious people while you eat!. The next post is The first day of many I hate Peace Corps.

dan.kappus@gmail.com

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