All is Fair in Love and Politics

Party song blasts from the tower of speakers

Two days until the presidential election in the Dominica Republic. Will it be Purple or White for the next four years? Hipolito "llegó Papa!" or Danilo and his female running mate? International election observers are here, ballots deemed fair, the count to begin Sunday night. But did you know that party members are making the rounds, paying people to go and vote! A question comes to mind which I try to ask my Dominican friends without causing offence....

"Hypothetically speaking, if one party gives you money to vote, but you take the money and vote for someone else, what happens?"

"Oh, lots of people do that!"

Whew! What a relief. Democracy still lives.

Two days ago the purple party paved the street in front of my house with alphalt and yesterday a purple parade came swinging through.  Men and women on foot, on motorcycles, hanging out of the windows of SUVs and in the back of pick-up trucks. The party song blasted at the decibel of a jet plane, merengue, of course. But the White Party is coming tomorrow and I've been told it will be even MAS GRANDE. "What does Chispa think of all of this?" you might ask.

¿Y Chispa?

My neighborhood

The people around me are greeters, huggers, kissers, yellers, exuberant sources of noise, opinions, song and questions. So you can imagine my surprise when instead of the receiving the customary good morning, hello, how are you, and a kiss on the cheek, everyone I pass on the streets greets me with "¿Y Chispa?" Yes, the dog, and it's everyone! Even people I swear I've never seen before in my life.

Yes and No

A new blog post - also known as an acceptable reason for ignoring the pile of dirty dishes.

Five days of medical care just completed. Four-hundred satisfied clients? My brain is exhausted by the constant change between Spanish and English. "What is the word for gallbladder again?" Chispa won't come near me for fear that he'll be shut up in the house for a sixth straight day. The reality of a dog living in a second floor apartment.

My foggy head and blurry eyes feel like the consequence of facing illness, hope, disgruntlement, and relief. The result of five days of being that white woman with the power to say "yes" or "no." But the truth is that at the end of the week I danced merengue and bachata until one in the morning, and until now, forgot all about sick people.

This last week there were no tears in my eyes - not when a malnourished boy showed no weight gain in four months, not when a women came forth with domestic violence, not when I saw tears in the eyes of one of our medical volunteers. When was the last time I cried when faced with, what do you want to call it, poverty, illness, dare I also say resilience? I remember it perfectly, a tiny man, amputated above both knees, sitting in a prison cell in Cambodia, light as a feather, hallow cheeks and black hair. A tuberculosis patient. The prison staff not sure what to do.

It takes a lot to bring tears to my eyes now.

In the mean time, don't fear. There are many happy Chispa Tales to come, and because I didn't take any photos of Cambodian prisoners you'll have to accept another cute photo of Chispa instead.

Now I'm off to get the broom and mop. It's either that or accept a Chispa paw print decorated floor, which now that I think about it, sounds okay to the both of us.

Small Encounters

Chispa and I came across each other on a street corner of Montellano, where sugar cane grows and mountains climb in the distance. I almost walked right by him. But something in the shadows caught my eye and then a small tail waged. I stopped, peered down and hesitated. I'd already adopted a street dog a month prior. That little puppy, named Burrito, ran away one day. It was my fault really. I left him outside on the balcony to sleep at night. I reasoned that he would stick around a house where he received a reliable source of food. But I was wrong. Although we had barricaded the balcony, Burrito quickly found a way out.


Chispa has been with me a week now and I keep a close eye one him. He loves people and chasing chickens. Yesterday evening I took him to the beach for the first time. My friend Heidi and I headed directly for the Mojito Bar where we happily pulled up plastic chairs in the sand. In the darkness it was hard to see Chispa's head poking out of my bag, but as soon as he was discovered by all around he was a hit. I set him on the sand to meet Bobby, another Dominican dog, full grown and not too interested in a puppy. Chispa followed Bobby up and down our small stretch of beach. I kept one eye on Chispa and the other on my mojito, but my worry that he would wander away changed to a fear that someone else, charmed by his cuteness, would pick him up and take him home. In the hours we sat at the Mojito bar Chispa made friends with the owner and was wrapped in the arms of a tourist for a photo.

The Mojito bar closed and Heidi and I moved down the beach to Lax dinner. As we were waiting for our food I set Chispa down, thinking he would fall asleep on the cool sand. Instead he quickly made his way to a nearby table and sat patiently waiting for handouts. It wasn't long before he was munching on some tasty morsel. I walked up to the group, worried that the people wouldn't realize that Chispa had an owner and would take him home. He was in the arms of one man, quite content. "I hope he isn't bothering you" I said. The man with Chispa in his arms laughed. "Clearly not," he said. "It looks like he has a very fully belly," the man continued. I had to laugh. Chispa's full looking belly was a sign of worms and other parasites. But I didn't tell the tourists that.

Chispa is taking deworming medication and antibiotics and is already looking much healthier. He has his next vaccination scheduled in a few weeks.