here we go!

There's a new round of kids coming in to Dream Project.

Tiny, pumped for the challenge, sweet kids.

They're going to audition for the music program this week.  It's so exciting for them, as much as it is for me.

I love teaching little ones from day one.  It's makes me tingle with happiness when I see their eyes light up after they realize they've played their first song.

It's akin to how I'm feeling about playing my first gig in Spanish this week.

It was kinda sprung on me, but Tuesday I get to showcase some of the songs I've been working so hard on.

It's a gastropub called, 'Voodoo Lounge'.  My kinda place.

It's got comfy couches where you can really sink into the cushions to listen to live music.  You just have to try to ignore the mosquitos who have built condos under the cushions just waiting for a ripe ass to bite.

MusicMan and I are going to play a few songs along with another teacher from the Bachata program at Dream Project.

However, the timing is a bit off.  I was going to put music on the back burner for a month, because we're quite busy prepping the house for sale.

Yes, we're selling Casa Paraíso, for so many reasons.

We love this house, but since the day we've moved in, it has been all about the house.

Repairs, workers, commotion.

We were looking to come here to rest from working so hard for 4 years after the motorcycle accident.  Instead, we've spent the entire year focusing on this house.

It's beautiful down here on the ocean, but to every good there is a balance of bad.

Rust.

It's killing everything, including this house, and we just can't afford the upkeep.

Plus, I'll tell you, I will be so relaxed when I'm not dodging the chorus of children screaming my name at the gate all day, every day.

I can't even enjoy my yard, because the children think that once I'm out there, I'm their property.

"Gringa!  Open the gate!"

"No, my friends, the gate is open on Saturdays."

Except today, when I found I woke in the middle of the night to feeling quite under the weather.  I haven't slept properly in days and it's not allowing for a healthy immune system.

So, I put a sign up saying, "No class today, I'm sick.  Sorry."

Which prompted every child to come to the gate screaming my name to try to get me to come out.

I tried to ignore them and went to find some more sleep, when I was awoken by The Carpenter who didn't tell me he wanted to work on Saturday as well.

I need peace.  I need sleep.

I also look forward to not having Housemaid.

I'm not into people in my house every day, and stopping by unannounced.  I'd rather clean on my own.

You see, it's kinda hot here and in order to exercise, I have to do it in the nude as clothes really get in the way when you're sweating so much.

So, I have to always be on the lookout for Housemaid letting herself in our house for whatever reason, whenever she chooses.

Unfortunately, it's not like back home, where people usually call before dropping by.  Most people here can't afford the phone call, so they just show up.

That whole Seinfeld thing where people just drop by and expect you to be decent and available?  I'm not into it.

I remember when I was younger, I wished people would just drop by, because then it meant I was loved.

Now?  If you love me, you'll understand that I require a lot of alone time.

Furthermore, I don't like being caught in the nude.

The constant wave of people in my house is not my kinda thing.

These are just two of the reasons for selling Casa Paraíso.

It's been lovely.

Alas, it's time to move away from the cows and closer to the city.

And now, let the house insanity begin!

i live in peace

time warp!

Wow!

All of a sudden it's Tuesday.

I kinda fell into a piano pothole.

I'm working on a piece, transcribing it into Spanish: Tori Amos, 'Winter'.

I have been torn as to whether I should just leave it in English, but I think I've figured out my niche for my piano gigs.

I've started transcribing all my songs into Spanish.

It may take me longer and a little more work, but it will help for both languages.

People know a popular song in English, so they'll be able to enjoy the song in their mind in English, but all the folks here will be able to understand the song in Spanish.

So, that's kinda where I've been for the past few days, because this is a HARD one to work with.

Oh, there are a few other things we've been doing in between hiding in my dungeon.

Fixing parts of the car, and helping sick Fuzzy Family.

The car is mobile now, though I have to slide in from the driver's side to get to my seat when Papi is driving.

It's really classy when you're wearing a skirt.

And it's so nice to have people looking at our car and shaking their head, wondering what the hell happened.

Oh, you know, just my drunk husband texting while driving.  No big deal.

Then there's the sick animals.

The Bastard Prince has some strange inflammation from eating some strange plant that's in season right now.

Apparently, it's like catnip for them and they keep going back for more, but the problem is it creates a bladder issue and he hasn't been able to take care of kitty business for 24 hours.

He's spending the night at the hospital.

Also, the Pathetic Puppy is really living up to her name.

We don't know if she got poisoning from raiding the garbage, or has poisoning from a rat.

Dr. Bob is banking on garbage.  He has seen the end results of other things she's gotten into.

She's like a ninja!  Black as the night so you can't see her slipping into the corners and getting into trouble.

She's been lethargic and hiding under the piano while I play.  She just wants to be left alone.

When Dr. Bob drew her blood, there wasn't too much to take.

It's going to take her a few weeks to get back the blood she's lost from her body trying to fight off the poisoning.

We're going to have to really watch this li'l bugger.

She can barely move right now, and within a week she's lost a lot of weight even though she's been eating, albeit, not as much.

Anyway, back to 'Winter'.

I thought that my bitch of a back was not healing as fast because it happens to be 'winter' here in the Dominican Republic, but I realize now that it's because my ankle has hindered me from exercising.

I've gained weight and that hurts my back as well.  Not to mention, my ankle has put me out of alignment.

I started yoga a few days ago, in between practising.

It's been hurting too much to sit and practise for hours at a time, so I had to start stretching in between, which led to getting back to yoga.

All of a sudden, my ankle is healing faster, I'm sleeping through the night without pain in my back, and lo and behold, I've started to take off the weight.

This is going to take a little while.  I put on so much weight, that a skirt that is normally too loose is too tight to wear.

No problem.  While I work on my piano sets, I'll keep exercising.

It's all coming together.

Now, if we can just get some healthy animals and stay away from Dr. Bob, I might have more time to work on these sets.

I've got 2 weeks to get some serious work done before I go back to Dream Project.

So, no wonder I lost a few days there.

I am a 'tad' busy.

i exercise because it makes me feel good 

obligation

Perhaps it's possible I'm becoming acclimatized.

When in Alberta, land of the ice and snow, my bitch of a back was in agony.

Utter agony.

I had no pain killers, but those that my lovely brother in law gave me.

They made me puke all over the place.

Plan B: No pain meds at all.  Limp about with a scowl on my face like an angry troll.

I took it out on my niece who has a sugar addiction and gets wired on the substance.

It hurt her.  It hurts me that I even hurt her feelings for a second by jabbing at her about the amount of sugar she eats.

I should know better.  I'm the same way with sugar addiction.  How can I expect a child to control it?

I do know that by eating horrible sugary, wheat induced foods, my troll face was definitely a little more than extreme.

Anyway, I came back home, to depression, and to find that my body isn't responding to the heat quite like it did last time I came back from the utter BRRRRRRR.

I came back to the Dominican Republic 'winter'.  It's still warm, but occasionally you need a sweatshirt or heavy t-shirt.

When the sun does come out in all it's glory, I'm like a child running to the ice cream man.

Screaming out to the yard to capture a few moments of heat.  "Please sun.  Please warmth.  Take away the pain."

I know it can help with both physical and emotional pain.

But last night I was up most of the night with the throbbing icy pain that shoots down through my leg.

I woke up to a little bit of a bad mood due to lack of sleep and the stress of coming home to creeping fear.

Papi admitted to the Facebook world of his wrongs.

Deadly wrongs.  Drinking and driving, while texting at 4 in the morning and driving off the road is nothing to take lightly.

True to the nature of Facebook, or rather FecesBook, Papi was greeted with less than desirable comments.

Zap!  A few more 'friends' deleted.  Neither of us needs bullshit right now.  I won't tolerate it anymore.  Life is hard enough without crap from people.

After speaking with a few friends about my feelings of this, I'm greeted with a resounding, "But I'm worried about YOU too!"

I'm only worried about Papi.

He has vowed that the drinking will not be coupled with driving, and that there will be no more texting while on the road either.

I've been harping on him for years about the texting.  He is finally seeing the results.

All I have is the gratitude that mi esposo didn't die while I was gone.  It's all I have to stay in the now.

I hold him, because we just never know when someone we love will be snatched from us, either by a bad choice, or life and all it's daggers it throws at us.

Life.

Sometimes, I am just so tired of trying to get through it.

I know where suicidal tendencies come from.

This place where we are just so exhausted from what's handed to us that we feel we just can't endure another day.

Then we do, and we continue.

Some of us don't make it out alive.  Some of us give in to the voice that says, "That's enough.  Let's just go now, OK?"

Yesterday, the only thing that got me out of bed was the fact that 8 little creatures are depending on me.

I lied in bed shaking.

Stomach turning.

Blood curdling.

Toes curling.

Muscles buzzing, feeling like they're separating from my body.

Today, there are tears, but I know I have obligations, like the children's Christmas celebration at Dream Project.

I'm so grateful for these things that get me out of bed.

I'll endure another day because I'm in a never ending fucking ring match with life.

I'll just get up and keep taking the fucking blows.

i know i am braver than i can see

misogyny

Yeah, it's been a few days since I've posted.

I'm not sure why, but I needed to be silent for a bit.

I am having a rough time at the school.

I completely understand the lack of respect toward women in a developing country, but it doesn't make it any easier when the people who give me a hard time aren't even from the Dominican Republic.

You think the boys club in Canada is bad?

Yeah.  No.

Like for instance, this one cretin bought all the teachers a coffee, except me.

Guess who's the only female music teacher?

After our performance for the teachers in the school, the mother of one of the girls I teach named and thanked every music teacher for all they do.

Except me.

Even though I am the one who teaches her daughter, being the only female at the school I am not worthy of acknowledgement.

I work hard for these kids and I don't ask for anything more than my happiness and some gasoline to get there, which the woman who runs the place STILL hasn't given me.

But she pays all the men.

Still, Papi and everyone else says, "Just leave the school."

But I can't leave these girls.

Oh, did I tell you?  the only instrument they let the girls play is piano?

So, if I leave the school for this reason or that, guess who suffers?

Girls.

There is a school here that is solely for girls: Mariposa DR Foundation.

I'll write an email to ask if they have a program there for music.

One thing I am grateful for, however, is MusicMan.

He constantly and consistently thanks me for my work.

When the dude with a Jesus Fish tattooed on his arm bought everyone a coffee except me, MusicMan got a cup from the kitchen and shared his with me.

MusicMan is lovely.

It almost made me cry from the love.

He has no idea what he did for me that day.

Knowing that everyone was thanked for their teaching except me, at the end of the class he said, "Thank you for your work with the children."

When I texted him to tell him I needing a day away from the school to go back to the doctor in Santiago for my ankle this week, he chose the best day for me to be away, then again texted, "Thank you for your work with the children."

He is a special man.

He is not Dominican, he is from Peru.

Maybe they have more respect for women there?

Or maybe he's just one of those gems in this world that makes everything better and worth the pain.

That lovely example of Christianity, JesusFishMan, doesn't even make eye contact with me, and he's not from the DR either.

He's American.

He treats me like I'm some kind of abscess.

I've come the the conclusion that anyone who flaunts their JesusFish is an asshole.

I am not feeling the love.

We all know how much I need love.

I am however, sticking by these children who appreciate my leadership, and MusicMan, because I definitely feel the love from them.

They are the reason I stick around.

Their joy of getting through a song makes up for the misogyny.

i seek a new way of thinking about this situation

move that body!

Don't know what got me.

Since last Tuesday, I've been rather sick.

Enough so, that I've seen a slight decline in the weight I put on after the 3 months of lying around like a bloated manatee from the whole ankle 'thing'.

Virus?  Food from a foreign country?  Parasite from the water?

The sick part of my brain, that good old Anorexia Monster, is telling me this is great, because I'll get back to feeling my normal weight!

But the healthy person in me would rather eat better and exercise to take it off the right way.

However, up until yesterday, every time I tried to move was an immediate invitation to run as quickly as possible to the bathroom.

My phone has been glued to my hands.  You don't want to be stuck in there for half an hour with no puzzles to play.  Ya know?

Yesterday, I just stared out at our beautiful yard we are fortunate to have and fell into an anxiety attack like I haven't had in a long time.

Looking outside.  Stuck near the washroom.  Feeling so weak.

Frozen, because the anxiety had immobilized me.

Like I said before, I am NOT good at staying dormant.

Today I feel a little more strength.

I feasted on an entire bag of Dorito's throughout the day yesterday, minus the scant amount I shared with Papi.

That and all the lime juice I could drink.

For the tail end of the ankle 'thing', I watched to the end of Breaking Bad.

For this stomach 'thing' that got me, I've started on The Walking Dead.

Never really been a fan of zombies, because they don't scare me.

It's reality that scares me.

Yet, everyone seems to like the show, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.  Love it!

Anyway.

I go back to Dream Project tomorrow.  In the next 2 weeks we'll be driving the children full speed toward a performance at the DR Jazz Festival.

They're pumped!

I'll just fill myself with plenty more Pepto to make it through my 4 hours of teaching.

MusicMan told me that he'd be asking the BigWigs for my gas allowance.

I was so grateful that he said that on his own accord.

I wasn't going to ask anymore, but he brought it up, so I feel a little like he really is happy with me being there helping with the kids.

He got a real kick out of me telling him the story about how I thought he no longer had a job there.

Funny enough that he decided to tell more people the silly story.

Oh, how I make a name for myself everywhere I go.

Now I'll be the silly gringa at the school.

Which is OK.  I know who I am.

I've really have nothing more to prove to anyone.

I'm just spinny Andréa, and it makes me a much more approachable person when people know that, and we all know I just want to be loved.

I remember being the Andréa that had a permanent cloud of doom hanging over my head.

I'm just grateful I can laugh at myself and not take myself too seriously anymore.

I have meds to thank for that.

I'm looking out at the ocean today.

I'm sitting at the table, instead of the La-Z-Boy, my favourite tool of the Pit of Doom.

My ankle doesn't hurt from sitting in an upright chair anymore.

The ocean doesn't sound like white noise when you're actually watching the white caps crash against the shore.

It's beautiful.

I am strong enough to walk to that ocean now.

Perhaps today I'll allow the feeling of that gorgeous salt water to wash me clean of these past 3 months of stagnancy.

Move.

With the waves.

Ebb and flow.

i am willing to change my eating habits and i do so easily

lost in translation

Jeeeeeeeeezus.

I think my life's mission is to embarrass myself as much as possible.

So, yesterday, I thought there would be no program for the children at the school.

Yeah.

I'm really not good at understanding Spanish.

I speak it much better than I hear it.

It could be that MusicMan tries to dumb down the language, to make it easier for me, but I still had troubles yesterday.

I don't know what it is.

I just don't understand the language.

I can communicate very well on my own part, so people think that I am able to understand the words.

But I need people to speak

EACH

WORD

SEPARATE

to understand what the hell they're saying.

Or else I run into troubles.

Like yesterday.

So, I show up and I'm worried that MusicMan wouldn't have a job to feed his baby.

No.

Everything was fine.

Turns out he has the other job right now, as stage manager for the DR Jazz Festival.

He was trying to explain to me that he wasn't going to be at the school, because he has another job.

What I got out of it was that he needed to be at another job.

As in, there is no job at Dream Project and the reason I had to wait to hear back from him was because he didn't know if I would need to be there if he wasn't.

I'm a fucking nutburger.

I embarrass myself on a regular basis.

But today, when I explain to him how embarrassed I am, I better get down the word for 'embarrassed', because it sounds an awful lot like pregnant and he'll be congratulating me.

Papi and I have been here 10 months.

When will I start to understand what everyone is saying?!?!?!?!

One poor little soul yesterday came in to class and I had just been practising for an hour doing scales, arpeggios and broken chords, so my mind was really elsewhere in piano land.

She sat down and I rattled off in English what we'd be working on today.

She looked at me with big eyes and asked if I could say it in Spanish.

It was pretty funny and we had a good laugh.

Then at the pharmacy, the woman kept asking me for 50 pesos, only, I kept hearing 500.

I tried every combination I could to give her the 500 thinking she wanted certain denominations for change for her register.

Finally, she stopped me by looking me in the eye, touching my hand, and taking a 100 peso bill and proceeded to give me change.

"Ahhhhhhhhh.  50 pesos!"

I finally got it.

Seriously.

When do I get better at this?

Good thing they don't have a 'Tea Party' here in the Dominican Republic.

They'd have my ass on the next plane out of the country.

People are much more patient with expats here.

i have the ability to persevere 

their loss.

Oh dear.

I asked MusicMan if he wanted to practise our beginnings of a set list and got word back from him that there may no longer be a role for him as music director at Dream Project.

I'm waiting to hear from him as to whether or not I'll be teaching today.

Maybe the school is feeling the pinch of no money like the rest of the world.

I suppose that's the reason they couldn't afford to pay my gas to get there.

That just makes me feel selfish for asking for the pittance of travel allowance.

They need MusicMan for those kids.

Those kids need music.

To a lot of people, music is one of the first extracurriculars to go.

But people have that all wrong.

Music is so important in this world.

Yeah.

So is math, although the majority of people don't use half of what they learn post secondary.

Grammar is definitely important.

I'd like to start a 'down-south' school for members and followers of the tea party, but for now I'll leave that up to Teabonics to spread the word of their lack of the English language.

Makes me giggle when they tell immigrants to speak English.  Perhaps they could take classes along with them?

Anyway.

Music is so important.

It actually helps your brain process other tasks.

It is another language.

A universal language.

MusicMan and I don't have the best communication because we both lack the knowledge of each others language.

However, when we play music together, it doesn't matter.

When I sing Spanish songs to the loitering kids waiting for their class at the school, they sing with me, even if I don't clearly understand every sentence in the music.

Yet.

We have magical, intuitive communication through the heart.

I sing with grown men who have a moment of innocent tenderness when I hear their angelic voices sing every word to a ballad normally sung by a woman.

Beauty.

Soul.

I really hope they are not going to lose MusicMan.

Those children need him to guide them through every performance.

Right now, they need me to teach piano to the girls.

Maybe if they lose out on him, we'll start our own non-profit school together.

Lord knows we're not out to make money.  We need enough to feed our family, and the rest is payment of the happiness brought by working with children spreading the joy of music.

I already have the meagre beginnings of a school.

Papi says I must enjoy it, because there's nothing else that would get me out of bed at 6:45 a.m. on a Saturday.

The Garage Band is getting better at their beats, with the exception of one poor soul who doesn't seem to play nice with others.

I guess you could say he dances to the beat of his own drum.

But that doesn't matter.

What matters is that he shows up every week, sings and smiles along with us while we struggle through learning the ins and outs of music.

It's not just an extracurricular activity.

It is what feeds the heart.

That is mandatory.

every one of us deserves greatness

think about it

The janitor gets paid.

There is also a man who is there strictly to open and close the gate for the children, to keep things in order.

He gets paid.

I've been studying music since I was 3.

I've gone to music college.

I've taken exams out the wazoo with the Royal Conservatory of Music.

I've ran my own music school for 13 years, that was so successful, I had a waiting list.

But I ask for gas money to get to Dream Project to TEACH FOR FREE and they have to think about it?

I'm confused.

I'm pissed off.

I'm insulted.

When those children are up on the stage performing their piece, who do they think taught the piano players?

I need work, and if I have to leave to get paid, then I have to leave.

Then those 6 girls I teach will no longer have a piano teacher.

There will no longer be a piano aspect to the performance.

It will be all boys playing guitar and bass, with one drummer.

How do I not have worth to them?

Isn't their mandate that they believe all children in the Dominican Republic deserve education and mentorship?

In July, when I came face to face with management, she asked me how it was going.

I told her how much I enjoyed the children and how I appreciate their gratitude and eagerness.

I told her how it's awesome to be able to learn Spanish through the kids.

I told her how happy it makes me.

Her response?

"Good.  Then that's your payment.  Because we're not paying you."

Nice.

That was the point where I knew my request when I first started was all a lie to get me to teach free for the summer.

If it was any other job, I would have been gone that day, but I'm there because I genuinely adore the children and their great efforts they put into learning piano.

I've been driving there and teaching for free since May.

I need income, and asked the MusicMan to request gas money for my travel costs, stating, "I'll teach for free, but I live a half hour away, so it's expensive to drive here."

He told me he contacted them, and their reply?  They have to 'think about it'.

Meanwhile, they pay every other employee they have there, or I know they would be looking for work elsewhere.

I have one of the most rewarding jobs there.  It's the only reason I stay and volunteer my time.

Still, how can someone not see my worth?

How?

Not the janitor, nor the gate keeper, nor the women answering phones could teach these children piano, but they all get paid for their jobs.

They have to 'think about it'.

Gas money.

I'm not even worth gas money for them.

I am so hurt.

Looks like I'll be looking for a job and I'll have to leave the little darlings.

Papi doesn't really want me teaching there either, but it's so hard to think of leaving them.

They will be devastated not to have lessons.

They love them so much.

I'm so sad.

i am deserving of abundance

Gratitude 10/10
1. I am grateful I know my worth.
2. I am grateful for cool breezes.
3. I am grateful for ice to ease my pain.
4. I am grateful The Thug didn't kill The Bastard Prince last night.
5. I am grateful I found the pin for my crutches.
6. I am grateful for music.
7. I am grateful for an impromptu sing-a-long with people yesterday.
8. I am grateful for my talent.
9. I am grateful I have an income for 2 more months.
10. I am grateful for people who appreciate me.

moto crutching

Our car is in the shop, but I had to teach yesterday.

So, off I hobbled with my crutches up to the main road.

The people here in my village are so damn sweet.

While I waited for a taxi, they offered me a seat, watching for a taxi and waved it down for me.  They then held on to my crutches until I got in the car and handed them back.

Not to mention, the people in the car all arranged themselves so that I could be in front to make space for my crutches as well.

Honestly, I've never experienced the hospitality like I do here.

Even on the way back, an entire bus load of people moved about to make sure I was in the front for space with my crutches.

In Vancouver, lazy assholes sit in the disability seats not even standing for a woman who looks like she's at the end of her pregnancy term.

We don't have jerks like that here.

However, when you take the taxi or bus, they only run along one main road.

I had to make the trek to get to Dream Project, which would be a good 20 minute walk from the highway on HEALTHY feet.

There was NO way I could walk that road in my state.

I took a moto.

There I was, crutches in one hand, other hand on the man in front of me.

Gingerly squeezing my thighs against his hips, I feared that it's not the way people do things here, and I thought I looked like a twit.

People look like they don't even hang on.

Not me.  The hand that wasn't holding on to crutches was white knuckled holding on the seat below me.

Even if I did do everything exactly right, people would stare because there was a gringa on the back of a moto carrying crutches.

That's more of a Dominican act.

But I made it over every speed bump, smiled and waved at the local coffee man, and we stopped at Dream Project.

Now to get off the moto.  Fuck.

While compensating for my meagre balance, for fear of falling because I was trying to stand on one foot, I burned the inside of my calf on the exhaust pipe.

I didn't want anyone to know, because I was so embarrassed that I forgot about the detail of getting off the back of a bike.

Watch the fucking exhaust pipe!!!!

It's been a while since I've been on the back of a motorcycle.

Anyway.  Singe.  Burn.

Seeing that my students were all there watching me get off the bike, I was holding back the profanities with gritted teeth, then made my way up to the class.

I didn't want them to know about my mishap, as I was humiliated, so I pretended it didn't happen.

One of my students noticed and pointed to hers as well.  She had an exhaust pipe burn that was half way through it's healing process.

I see what mine will look like in a week or so.

She laughed at me when I said, "One leg this, the other leg that!" indicating that I now have 2 screwed legs that look like I've been through battle.

I taught with the burn screaming at me for the first hour.

By the time I got home, it was a swollen rust coloured mess and Papi lovingly took care of it with polysporin and gauze.

Then he forced me into using ice and heat for my healing ankle.

Following that, he made me dinner and poured me my well deserved glass of wine.

My baby is back to being that loving, generous soul I fell in love with.

It's important to remember that relationships ebb and flow just the same as our own personal emotions.

The state of a relationship is just an extension of our own inner self.

Anyway, I'm not sure what it is about this country, but between Papi and I, we've both had nothing but wee accidents all over the place.

I guess we're going to toughen up.

It feels like we've gone to battle.

i give myself permission to both fail and succeed

 i missed a day of gratitude ... apologies ...Gratitude 4/10
1. I am grateful I toasted my coffee beans yesterday for awesome coffee today.
2. I am grateful I was able to teach yesterday and today.
3. I am grateful for the children making me happy.
4. I am grateful for air conditioning.
5. I am grateful Papi and I have lovingly communicated about our emotions.
6. I am grateful for the sweet people in this country.
7. I am grateful for all my friends showing me how much I'm loved.
8. I am grateful to have so many friends.
9. I am grateful for my Fuzzy Family making me laugh.
10. I am grateful I'm in a relationship with someone who works at it as much as me.

intensive

Papi likes to give them a show now.

Now, when they're looking over the wall, the only naked body they're donned with is my bare assed, neon white esposo.

Of course they avert their eyes, because they wouldn't want to be caught watching a naked man.

They might be called gay!

And here, that could get you killed.

Here, we don't have peeping Toms.

We have peeping Juans.

And they are always looking over the wall.

They sit back and watch Doggy TV, while waiting for the gringa to come on out in the buff.

No more.

I have 3 bathing suits.

They're in rotation.

It seems I live in them now.

In Vancouver, at the end of a long day, I would come home and get into warm, cozy pajamas.

Here, I come home, strip down and throw on a bikini.

I dip in the pool, not to cool myself there, but so that when I come straight back out, I'm refreshed while I'm soaked.

Sometimes, I put a sarong on, if it's not too hot, otherwise, I just allow myself to walk around in my bikini and ignore my body.

We don't have many mirrors here.  It's good for me.

Two days ago it was 100!!!!

Yesterday was a little cooler.

I could tell it was cooler as we all walked to the restaurant.

I've been going to lunch with the kids at Dream Project while we're on the end of season music intensive.

The kids are having a lot of fun, but then again, so am I.

They were so thrilled to hear me play and sing Vivir Me Vida.

A gringa!

Playing salsa music!

MusicMan has been leaving me alone with the kids here and there.

He's easing me in slowly, allowing me to dip my toes in, preparing me for September, perhaps.

However, as SOON as he'd leave the room, they'd erupt into nutbars, singing and dancing, jumping on the ceiling, doing back flips off the chairs, asking me, "Play the song, again!"

Alas, it's time to get firm with the little buggers.

Up until now, I've just been the 'nice gringa'.

They're finally using my name now instead of 'gringa'.

I've been 'gringa' for them, for kids in the hood and anyone who doesn't know me.

'Gringa'.

All the time.

With the occasional tiny tot who looks up and says, "Blanca!"

I think it's funny.

Anyway, for a few days now, I've been eating Dominican food, and damn, it's good.

But not good FOR me.

It's already taking it's toll.

I went home after teaching yesterday and tried to accomplish something, but passed out in a wheat and rice coma.

Now I feel like a bloated manatee.

One more day of music intensive and Domincan food, then it's back to eating salad and exercising.

And more music to learn.

i stay on a healthy eating plan and maintain my healthy weight easily

a full plate

sunday sillies...

I need to manage my time a little better.

Papi will tell you this is an understatement.

This actually has nothing to do with my brain injury.

I've been like this forever, but still, WITH a brain injury, it makes things really tough.

I forget what I'm supposed to do all the time and then at the last minute, I'm scrambling to get things done.

Then I'm stressed.

Then I'm a nightmare to be around.

I stressed myself out so bad that I didn't sleep all night Friday and couldn't teach the kids on Saturday.

I got Papi to put a 'no class today, Andréa is sick, sorry!' sign on the garage.

Sick is one way of putting it.

When I'm in that state of not being able to sleep from anxiety, 'sick' doesn't come close to describing it.

Then I spent all day yesterday frantically editing the YouTube show, and today, my panic is to get a song prepared for the kids at Dream Project tomorrow.

That one was sprung on me yesterday by MusicMan.

I'm not really responsible for that procrastination.

When a musician asks me to prep something, I never say no.

I just pull my hair out all day trying to show the world I'm good enough.

I feel like I'm always hanging by a thread.

I've always felt that way.

I see other musicians carry on with their jobs and I never see them sweat.

Mind you, they don't see me sweat.

I do that alone.

Then I show up and try to act like I'm a pro.

Perhaps that's what everyone else does too?

I don't know.

All I know is, today's mayhem will be learning the Marc Anthony song, 'Vivir Mi Vida' on the piano.

Thank g*d I know all the lyrics and the main themes of the song from teaching The Garage Band for the past month.

Phew!

At least I have a leg up on that one.

But the other night, I realized, I'm supposed to be having fun here.

This morning, someone asked me if I could teach them bass.

I actually said, "Not until September."

Me!

I admitted I was too busy!

I'm proud of myself.

However, it does have a lot to do with Papi.

He repeatedly tells me what he's learned from other expats; that here, you have to choose one thing a day.  You can't possibly do more than that in this country.

It's true.

I'm learning.

I'm here to enjoy my life, not be stressed!!

Alas, off I go to fret over a song for the kids tomorrow.

My only thing today.

Of course, that is other than washing my hair, toasting my coffee, cutting up the pineapple before it rots, doing the dishes, paying attention to the dogs, and more.

What's Papi doing?

His one thing a day.

Sleeping.

i do well in all my assignments and i love learning

the sweetest thing

It almost made me cry.

The doorbell rang, and in all my bitchiness, I stomped to the door wondering who the hell would be here to bother me?

There were 4 boys standing at the door.

One being Our Unadopted Child, and the other 3 being some more boys from The Garage Band.

They all were standing at the door with plants.

They came to bring me gifts.  One in each hand.  Plants!

It doesn't sound like much, but in this country, the generosity is more than I have ever experienced in Canada.

I invited them in with so much gratitude.

Honestly, it was THE sweetest gesture I have ever experienced.

They were so proud to plant these symbols of life.

I had so much fun swimming with them in the pool afterward.

Their eyes.  The light in their eyes with the feeling of giving me the plants.

It's hard for me to take gifts, but the joy of seeing them give was so amazing that to 'take' meant so much for me.

Then to Dream Project I went.

One sweet girl was new.  She seemed nervous to be in a music class.  I adored her eagerness.

The I hope I get to work with her more.  She isn't really signed up for the class, but she took the place of a child who happens to be in the hospital.

It's like she could FEEL that her time was limited in learning.  Maybe I can persuade her to come in during lunch time for lessons?

I'd go in an extra half hour to work with her.

Again.  The light in her eyes.  It's that light that draws us in.

I know that when I'm feeling like I'm surrounded by my angels, I have that light as well.

While I waited for students to show, I took the opportunity to play the piano.

Electric, but honestly, happy enough to play any piano.

Within 5 minutes, I had written the beginnings of a song.

My heart opened and the angels allowed me that moment of creativity.

Today my own electric piano arrived.  Now I get to have my creativity whenever it strikes me.

There is so much in me to share.

I am grateful to teach children who couldn't otherwise afford lessons.

They are making my life here so much more than worthy.

I asked them which songs they'd like to sing in the choir, and it was the ones that I tend to be drawn to as well!

But when I translated the words to English, I realized that it may be a bit too suggestive for these young kids to sing.

I'll explain that we can sing them in our time for fun, but perhaps, it may not be age appropriate for performing.

Maybe I can morph parts of it to be a little more wholesome?  So they still feel like they're having fun?

I'll do anything to make these kids happy.

They make me happy.

Light.

i am deeply fulfilled with my life

what next?

To get through this, I need to remember that there are some really good men here that would protect me.

I think I'm going to ask them to help me communicate better with the creeps here.

They know what to say.

They know what to do.

They know how to help me protect myself without getting decapitated by a machete for doing so, and perhaps build my confidence in this new culture.

I have my Spanish lesson on Thursday.

I think the focus will be about what to say and how to say it.

I won't be going back for the lessons with the kid.

We have a day to figure out what to do about it.

Do we write an email to the mom?

That could cause real problems.

I saw a picture of her before her boob job.

She wasn't anorexic then, she seemed healthy.

She didn't have botox then, she had natural facial features.

Her hair wasn't dyed a brassy blond then, it was light auburn hair.

She was a drop dead, natural gorgeous, with beautiful energy in this photo.

She's still gorgeous, just more like stripper gorgeous.  However, she doesn't seem to have the light she did in the photograph.

She's probably trying her best to get the attention of her husband who is too busy looking at all the other women around, not her.

If I say to her that her husband disrespected me, would that cause harm to her already fragile state?

Would it cause problems in their relationship, and in turn, the scary guy would figure out where I live for his revenge?

I don't know what this man does for a living, but my instincts say it isn't good.  Not to mention, his own child doesn't even know.

That doesn't sound reassuring to me that he's an upstanding citizen.  He scares me.

Or do I just not show up for our lesson, block their phones, and hope I don't run into them down the road?

That's not really what Papi and I want to do, but the people on the DR1 Forum seem to think it's 'the Dominican way'.

It just seems rude.  I'm not rude.

Or do I lie?  Say that I had to take on a full time job?

All I know is, I can't go back there.

He IS a predator and I refuse to be prey.

A sweet girlfriend of mine commented yesterday, stating that it wouldn't matter what I wore.

She's right.

I can't go back.  I didn't stick up for myself.

I blushed, giggled and shook my head.

To a predator, that says, "I won't fight you, go ahead."

Which is how I was violated so many times in my life.

Which is why I now have P.T.S.D. around predators.

Why on earth do I freeze?

But honestly, I just wanted to teach the joy of music to a child that was JUST starting to REALLY enjoy playing staccatos and slurs.

I didn't go to be violated.

Today, I go teach piano at Dream Project, then when I'm done, I'll play some tunes with the MusicMan who doesn't disrespect me.

He sent me an email asking that I bring my bass today so we can play music together.

He is one of the good men.

He is someone who sees me for who I am; a human being who just wants to enjoy music.

There are good men out there, and I will be grateful for them every minute of every day.

i refuse to fall victim to a state of panic

it's simple

He is American and talented.

He sang his American national anthem.

From the stands, those who have been taught racism rang out, "BOOOOO!!" because of the colour of his skin.

Why?

Today, important once again to search for simple joy.

Puppy nibbles on toes.

His little body twists and turns with exultation for no reason other than to express his merriment for living.

A walk with Papi and the Fuzzy Family down the beach as we giggle at their antics of jumping in and amongst the waves, rolling, tumbling.

We floated around in the pool, I drinking lime water for my stomach that seems to have come into contact with some bug, from somewhere, Papi drinking soda, of course.

We taught Pathetic Puppy and Jake-a-Like how to swim and exit, so that they could save themselves if they ever fell in to the pool.

This, while The Donkey swam laps around them.

I taught children piano, watching their pride glow as they felt the strength of playing the line right.

One little soul pulled on my heart strings.

We both wore glasses.

She liked mine, I liked hers.

She helped me with my Spanish, I helped her with her staccatos.

I felt connection to her awkwardness, and the wanting so badly to be loved and have approval.

Something as effortless as encouragement in her fledgling musicianship made us both feel strong.

It gave us an acquaintance where nothing mattered for that half hour, but the lesson and sharing the music.

MusicMan gave me a great hug when he saw me yesterday.

He had gratitude for me being there, I had gratitude that he was happy to see me.

Simply joy.

He told me he spoke to the BigWigs and it looks like I'll get paid for my work in September.

I'm already being paid in my heart, but a little reimbursement for my gas will be the cherry on top.

I was tired and weak when I arrived at Dream Project.

I left energized and ready to make more of my day than I had in a few days, from feeling so weighted in my heart.

When I arrived home, The Carpenter followed me in to our driveway with an offer: if I pay for the wood, he will make seats for the children of The Garage Band no charge.

It's happening!

People are starting to help with the children.

I only took the first steps.

But now, I am seeing others follow for their support.

Soon, they'll have a place to sit as they sing.

Simple joy.

This is only the beginning.

I'm so happy for them, and yes, for me.

It means their energetic, wiggly little bodies won't be squirming all over the place.

They'll have somewhere to plant themselves to listen a little better to instructions.

Seats.

Something so uncomplicated, yet another step toward more jubilance, love and gratitude.

It's simple to find, when you focus on the good.

Joy.

i feel good doing things that improve the well being of others

never a day without learning

Wow.

Mr. Lumpy is actually shrinking!!!

All I'm taking are amino acids and Vit. E., however, in high doses.

But he's gone down.

The pain is less.

The itching is less.

The wall is fixed.

... sorry to switch topics on ya like that ...

The kitty litter boxes now have a box on top.

Cheesecloths, pot holders and anything else that could possibly have the scent of ANY kind of food on them are raised above donkey level.

Major puppy-proofing is in order.

Next, chicken wire for the ground.

This is a serious project.

You should see what I did to the balcony railing upstairs.

We had puppies on the terrace rooftop.

Not anymore.  A little bit of string is now cobwebbed through and there are no more puppies on the roof.

I also found out today that I have less time teaching at Dream Project than I thought, which pleases me.

I have a tendency to take on more than I should.

I get a little too gung-ho and take everything on at once, then realize it's not really possible for one person to do it all.

Yet, somehow, I do.

I thought this trait left me after the motorcycle accident, but in so many ways here in the Dominican Republic, I'm learning that I'm not completely healed.

I thought I could lift a 5 gallon bottle of water into the water cooler.

Because I am healed, right?

Nope.

I'm still fragile, it's just that I don't have to take pills every day to ease my pain.

So, I have to remember, still, that I can only do so much.

Because lord knows, once that stress kicks in, my brain won't function and NOT A THING will get accomplished.

So, upon hearing that it's not going to be full time work this month and September, I was pleased.

More than pleased.

I need my time for my own creativity too!

That's the trap I fell into when I was teaching for a living.  All work and no creativity gives us a Hurricane Andréa sighting.

I never did get that digital piano from Santo Domingo on the Mr. Lumpy tour.

Papi and I couldn't find the store.

So I ordered one online.

It should be here this week and the MusicMan has me practising Jazz standards, which will give my brain a run for it's money!

Accelerated review of all that I learned in college that has completely left my mind!

I have to learn it all over again.

Anyway, the other part of having more time, means more time for training these demon dogs.

And puppy-proofing the house.

They are like having triplet toddlers who get into everything at the same time, and I only have 2 hands to catch them with.

That right there is a full time job.

I'll love them a little more when I'm not mad at them all the time.

They sure look cute when they sleep.

Maybe I'll put a little whiskey in their water.

i love to learn

joy.

Papi has been helping out with the dishes.

I am so grateful.

I have been so busy it hurts.

I'll turn him into Mr. Mom yet.

Maybe I'll have to get a little instructive on how to put away cutlery.

When he puts the utensils in the drawer, I open it up in the morning to find soup of forks, knives and spoons.

This way, that way, never in the proper piles.

It's torture for someone who is 'a little' O.C.D.

Anyway, I'm still happy, because it only takes me minutes to rearrange them into their allotted piles and start my breakfast.

Last night, I was up until 1 a.m. preparing for the kidlets.

I'm so excited to work with them today.

After seeing the kids at Dream Project perform their concert for well over 100 people last night, I am so pumped to get the village children up on a stage.

I dragged along Papi, who I thought would die of boredom, but I did it anyway.

When they were done and we were walking back to the car, he said he almost had tears in his eyes.

I said to him, "Do you understand now why I get get up 5 days a week at 6:45 and teach for FREE?"

Indeed, he understood.

I'll have it on the YouTube show in 2 weeks for you.

Papi has a GREAT idea for our little squirts!

I'm going to get them prepped and ready, then we'll take them to perform at all inclusive resorts.

They'll get an awesome meal!

Maybe I'll get their taxi paid for.

Damn.

I wish I had a bus!

I counted 40 children I'll be teaching.

I figure by X-Mas, when the rush of tourists come, we'll be ready!!!

Today, I'm starting with a Marc Anthony song:

It's funny, because I've never been a fan and never understood the big deal about him, but it is probably because I didn't understand Spanish.

But I'll tell you, thinking of these little beans singing the chorus, just like the choir of angels in the background of this song, I have chills.

The lyrics of the chorus sing:

I will laugh, I will dance

I live life

I'm going to enjoy laughing

And blammo!  I love the song.

I'll have the older ones sing the hard parts.

It's going to be so wonderful!

Can you tell I'm excited?

Anyway, I don't really have time to go on about it, because I have to prepare.

My Spanish has a lot of work to do.

Good g*d.

Perhaps learning songs will further my fluency as well?

And today's positive mantra is influenced by Mr. Anthony himself.

i will laugh, dance and enjoy life 

haggard.

I have so much to talk about, but somehow, I don't remember what I was going to tell you.

I do remember one item; tomorrow is the first day teaching the village children's choir.

I better have songs for them to sing, don't'cha think?  I haven't even started to prepare!!!

I've been a 'tad' busy, between Mr. Lumpy, driving to Santo Domingo, volunteering with Dream Project and everything it takes to be prepared for the above.

I'm exhausted, the dishes are piling up and the dogs are being neglected.

We haven't had the Housemaid in for a week, because we haven't been around for her allotted time.

Today is the first day in almost a week that I get to blog with my coffee.

These days, it's about running out the door with travel mug in hand, and waking up on the go while that coffee gets into my system on the road.

Showering?  Ain't nobody got time for dat!

I'm sure the locals are having lots to talk about with the stinky tattooed gringa they gossip about.

I'm pretty happy that the accident occurred 45 minutes away from here.

People in Nagua don't know us and I don't have to bow my head in shame in my own area.

Somehow, I have to look presentable for the children's concert today.

Those little beans at Dream Project are going to perform for a jazz band today.

I look forward to seeing the jazz band, as well as seeing them play for the pros.

The MusicMan is well connected and I'm very happy I've been able to be his assistant for the past few weeks.

The day before, I realized my Spanish has so far to go.

Sometimes, when I'm so tired that I can't even be bothered to shower, I just don't have the energy to study, or for that matter, REMEMBER Spanish.

Yesterday, I had a tough time at the school, and I had a tough time in my Spanish lesson last night.

Thinking that hard is difficult with limited energy!

Well, I might as well tell you about my corn.

I planted some seeds along the wall at the very front of the yard against the wall.

I didn't realized they're like banana trees, in that they're typically like a weed.

You plant in one area, and they spread out.

I have corn popping up in various areas of the yard!

I was wondering why Dominican Daddy wasn't plucking them from the ground, until I realized that they look identical to the other ones I planted.

I hope corn looks pretty, because they're invading our yard and it seems that they'll be spread out in no time.

But I know it wasn't corn I wanted to talk to you about.

Here I am, almost done my blog, and I still don't know what it was I was going to tell you.  It couldn't have been that exciting or I would have remembered right?

Wrong.

My poor injured brain has selective memory when I'm tired or stressed.  I could forget the most important of items.

I'm sure I'll remember later, when I'm in the middle of trying to understand someone's Spanish shpeel and have no idea what they just said, because I was daydreaming about some event of days past.

It will be another moment of me cocking my head, raising an eyebrow with a pained face, saying, "Que?"  That's my go to now for everything.

I was so happy to be able to get up and blog with coffee, thinking it would be a lovely writing session today, then I just sat here staring out at the ocean, watching and listening to waves crash, stunned.

If it weren't for the coffee, eggs, toast and lime infused water I was stuffing down my yak, that bewildered gaze probably would have been accompanied by me drooling all over the dogs that jump on my lap the moment I sit down at this table to write.

Ever have a donkey on your lap?

The Donkey honestly believes she's little.

Anyway, maybe tomorrow will be a little more informative and I'll remember the news I was going to share.

Until then, all you get is puppies, corn and one haggard femme.

i feel good about myself and the lessons i learn from life

insanity.

If it's not the power, it's the internet.

If it's not the internet, it's my computer or new keyboard.

Seriously, if everything here worked at the same, I'd be confused.

Now the pool equipment is broken.

The last time I tried to practise for the kids at Dream Project, my new keyboard didn't work.

I'm going to buy a new keyboard with my birthday money on Monday.

I was going to get a haircut, and got the phone number of a hair stylist, but didn't go.

So, just like when I was younger, my money will go to instruments.

When I was about 13, I decided I wanted to save to move to Australia.

Because it's warm.

I saved and saved from my job at McDonald's, and when I had a few hundred, I bought a keyboard instead and was stuck in rainy, cold Vancouver.

It feels just like that again, only this time, all I'm losing out on is good hair.

To hell with my nasty, natty hair.  Normally it IS all about my hair.  Not this time.

I need to practise piano, and bass for that matter.

I've been sticking around playing with the MusicMan after teaching the short ones, and I'll tell you, I am out of shape.

It's a good kick in the ass.

It reminds me of who I used to be.  I need to play well again.

It was too hard to play while I was in pain after my motorcycle accident.

I can do it now.  I just need to get in going.

Anyway, the only place to buy instruments on the island is in Santo Domingo.

That's a 3 hour drive, but we have to go there Monday.

I decided to follow through on the 2nd opinion about Mr. Lumpy.  I tried to tell him to go, but it didn't work.

Now he's angry.  So, I'll double check about his intentions.

The piano student I have?

Her mother had a broken spine and went for X-Rays and CT Scan at the same hospital I went for my biopsy, but the people working there didn't know she had a hairline fracture in one of her vertebrae.

If she had've broken it all the way through with one bad move, she'd be paralyzed.

Fortunately, in her home country they found the fracture and fixed her up.

Then, Jersey Girl had gone for a blood test while she was sick, and the doctors told her that by the results, she should be dead.

Something tells me they're not too good at their result readings.

I'll go to the capitol where they have a really good hospital and hope that they can give me the confidence to trust their negative results.

And at the same time, I'll get some manuscript for teaching and buy a new keyboard so I can practise.

Well, of course, I can practise if we have power.

If we have power, I can have internet and blog.

If we have power, we can clean the pool.

That is of course, after we get the equipment fixed.

Then, something else will go.

It's insanity.

But it occurred to me this morning, as I was driving home from teaching, that I'm actually living here.

I'm actually living in the Dominican Republic.

No matter how many crazy troubles we have, we're really here.

Holy shit.

We're really here.

i open my heart and allow wonderful things to flow into my life

rooster.

So early!

I think that people here don't have alarm clocks and they get up when the roosters sing.

I am so not used to this.

When we first got here, I had to be up early for the workers.

Now that I'm teaching music, the classes are early as well, but I'm going to have to be up early to accomplish everything that I've set out to do in a day anyway.

I am busy, and yesterday, Papi and I brought in the Pathetic Puppy to talk about getting her fixed.

While I was there, I asked about getting the AAAS to come to my village and sterilize the dogs here, and when the Canine Quarterback found out where I lived, she responded, "You're in the heartworm capital!!"

She ran back in and grabbed medication for all the dogs she could and came out saying, "You are now the outreach person for Las Canas."

Ok then!  I suppose I am!

It looks like I have another volunteering position.

Oh, I wanted to help here.

I got what I wanted.

Village dogs health.

Village children's choir.

Dream Project, where I have an 8 a.m. start.

Seriously.

That means I have to leave the house at 7:30, but have to get up at 6:45.

This may not mean a lot to you morning people who have been doing this for years, but I am not a morning person and haven't gotten up this early for any reason in a long time.

Even before the motorcycle accident, I worked a day job that ended at midnight.

So, this is hard!

But here's the good part: both times I've gone to work with the music teacher, he's been late.

I sit patiently with all the kids and wait.

We are all there.

Teacher is not.

But nobody is going to fire him, because it's just the way it is here in the Dominican Republic.

Dominican Time.

It's crazy!

To my advantage, when I was trying to get there to see the people, we had no power for 4.5 days, and I didn't get messages that asked me to be there for a certain day.

Then I didn't get phone calls, because the power outage killed my phone.

In Canada, I wouldn't have been considered for this position, because there is no way someone would want a tardy worker, or someone they couldn't contact.

But there I was, both days on time like the good Canadian I am, waiting for the person who's actually getting paid to show up.

Anyway, I had a great day teaching today.  I'm responsible for teaching 2 tiny girls piano.

Then when I was finished teaching today, the MusicMan wanted to play some music with me!

He is a great guitar player.

He would play guitar, I would sing; Police, Bob Marley, Beatles and more, then I played the jazz song on piano that he had given me to learn for the kids, while he would solo.

We played while the children would watch and move to the beat.

It was so much fun!  I have something to add to the New Life List.  Sit around and play music with my new friend.

He has all the contacts I need to start playing with others and for a music studio, albeit it's in the capitol.

I'll have to save that for when I'm ready to record, and for sure, I have enough to do for now.

I will have to get up early to get it all done.

Looks like I need a rooster.

i attract, welcome and accept talented and successful people to my team

in my element

That was the most fun I've had since we got here.

I went to Dream Project to watch the music class and get a feel for it.

Getting there was entertaining enough.

Our damn jalopy over heated.

I wanted to get there early, so I left an hour early.  They said to be there at 9, but being the eager beaver I am, I wanted to be there at 8.

Damn am I grateful that people start work so early here.

When the car overheated, I basically coasted for half an hour, then pulled into a garage that was open to get more water to add to our coolant.

That did the trick and I was off again.

I got there 20 minutes early.

I still looked like I was rarin' to go.

Then when I was there, the teacher saw me and was so happy, because not only did it mean that I could possibly drive down the road to get him a keyboard at a local bar, but it also meant I could help him teach.

There is one teacher for 5 guitars, a bass, 2 drummers and 2 keyboard players.

He was so happy that I could take over for the keyboards and teach them while he went and taught the rest.

I was so happy, because it was the first sheet music I've played in a year.

A year!

A year ago, we started into the mania of the gramma dramma and there was no time for me to make music.

Then it was all about prepping the house, selling it and moving into Our Closet.

There was no sheet music.

No piano.

So, today my brain had to work overtime to get back into the swing.

And swing it was.

These kids were learning jazz for crying out loud!

I was so incredibly impressed at their talent and ability to just copy what I played them.

My heart pounded with the excitement of a challenge, and the joy of seeing how I could help those wee, short people.

Then I looked around and realized, I was in my element.

I was back to me.

Of course, being a keener, I also have low self-esteem and didn't know if I did a good enough job.

Afterward, the teacher asked me how I like it and I told him I love it, then said I wanted to know if I did a good enough job.

I asked him, "I don't know how much you wanted from me, but was it good enough?"

He was happy with what I did and more than pleased for me being there to help him make his job easier.

We thanked each other about 20 times back and forth.

I guess I did good.

I go back on Wednesday to work for free, but fill my heart with glee.

Then when I arrived home, some of the sweet children in the village stopped me to give me a flower, a mango and a frozen treat that I'll give Papi.  It looks too deliciously sugared for my body.

However, it was then that it occurred to me that I said I would teach music to them in July.

We're getting awfully close to July and I haven't started to prepare for the kidlets!

So, I asked one of the older girls if she would help me.

As soon as I'm finished with this blog and finished my salad, off I go to count heads, and spread the word that on Saturday, we start our choir.

I also realized, that damn, I'm going to have to spend money on a keyboard that I can practise on.

I didn't anticipate this opportunity at Dream Project, so the keyboard I bought was strictly for programming music on my computer.

Wow.

This was my kinda day.

It reminded me of who I was before the motorcycle accident.

The vibrant girl who is eager and ready for the joy and challenge of music.

when i believe in myself, so do others