nice try

So, there I was, trying my first day of actual meditation.

I've been told that it's something I need to do for a long time.

I do find a place in music that is akin to meditation.

It really is the only time that nothing else enters my mind, other than the song I'm working on.

Maybe that's why it makes me so happy and peaceful when I play.

It's actually meditation!

But still, I had a friend give me some pointers on what I can do to start my journey into this new world.

So.  I sat outside on the table.

Yes, the table.

It's pointless to sit in chairs, because we happen to have massive oafs who will stop at nothing to be lap dogs.

The entire 6-Pack at one time.

Now, maybe someone who's been meditating for a long time can still do so with a Donkey, a Thug and others perched on their laps, wrestling for their attention.

But this is not a task for someone who's new at this gig.

So, I sat on the table.

Those waves, that happened to make me feel like I was listening to white noise while I was healing from the ankle, were going to be my focus.

In ...

Out ...

In ...

Out ...

Be sure not to pass out!

You see, I kinda have troubles with lightheadedness when I breathe too deeply.

Anyway, there was a moment that I started to only hear the waves!

Then it happened.

The MOMENT I got into the calming of the waves, there was Mr. Extortion outside the gate.

Waving, "Hola!!" with a sneaky, sly smile that tried to say he's a friend.

Sweet mother of baby Jesús, what the fuck do you want?!?!  I'm trying to fucking meditate here!!

Off I limped to hear his speech, "This is not sufficient for the waves.  You need big rocks."

Yes, the ocean gets VERY high in the winter, but we can't really afford the rocks right now, and decided we'd do a temp job with concrete bags.

But really it had nothing to do with his 'concern'.  Really he was saying, "We'd like more money from you, so if you could get those rocks, we could extort from you, if you don't mind."

I simply looked at him with a less than sweet gringa pan face, telling him this was temporary until we could afford the rocks.

He continued to go on about it, so I made it simple by turning into a broken record.  "We have no money."

More he went on about the rocks, thinking we're rich like our big house neighbours, as I repeated, "We have no money."

Then the little bugger was going to delve into an old extortion tactic of trying to get money out of us for the garbage pick-up by asking who takes care of it.

I now looked at him with Pissy Face and reminded him that we already told him that the gardener takes care of it and, "We have no money."

No, sir, you are not going to pull that one on us.

We've been here for 10 months.  We're hip to your game.

I was ready to lose the last ounce of spirituality I was trying to grasp with meditation and give this guy a piece of my mind.

Instead, I excused myself, leaving him standing at the gate, limping a little more excessively than I needed to to let him know that he REALLY disturbed my peace.

Papi says this was a test to see how well I could take on the task of meditation.

I'd say I didn't do so well.

I went back and hid in the house, playing my piano.

Nobody can see me when I'm in there, and I can pretend I don't hear people screaming my name at our gate.

I might try meditating again.

Or maybe I'll just stick to playing for hours on end.

i focus on the present

i might have to bring out pissy face

I'm quickly grabbing my breakfast before the day starts, now that I don't feel like death anymore.

I was granted 2 days to rest while feeling horrid.  That means that today should be hell.  Putting things off just means more work later.

The Carpenter already told me we have to go shopping after my breakfast.

Or rather, in his words, "After coffee!"

True.  It's mostly about the coffee.

Yesterday, I was sick and wasn't moving much, and the house looked empty despite the dogs running around like the lunatics they are.

Yet, there were children SCREAMING my name outside the gate.  When they didn't get a reaction, because I was lying like a lump in bed, they even tried Papi.

"Andréa!!!!" and a two second break between trying my name again, then, "Hector!!" ad infinitum.  Then there would be quiet for 30 minutes, only to hear it all over again for 20 more minutes.

We had to hide in our bedroom, shutters closed, so dark that when my mother skyped, she asked me if it was already night time.

No mom, we're just in our prison tower, hiding.  Just call me Rapunzel.  Not short of the hair hanging out the window.  That usually gives me away too.  So the shutters were definitely locked closed.

When the time comes that I teach them choir in July, I will teach it on Saturday and drill it into their heads that Sunday, we are to have no visitors.

I'm even going to get a HUGE sheet of material and cover up the wooden slats so they can't just try to be passive aggressive about it and stare at us until we respond.

I will train them yet.

The signs didn't work, but there will be signs on Sunday anyway.

Signs.

A sheet.

Verbal instruction.

If the children don't get it by then, well, I'll have to send in the reinforcement.

Papi will have to put on his cranky pants and be angry with them enough to keep them away.

We moved here for peace and tranquility to heal from so much that has happened in our lives.

There hasn't been any for the almost 5 months we've been here.

When it comes to this problem, we would have been better off in a miserable gated community with stuck up bastards who came to this country, not to be with it's people, but just to use it.

At this point, I'd even weather out being with those snotty people who have nothing better to do than tell me how may dogs I'm allowed to have.

However, if I can train the kids that Sunday is off limits, Papi and I might have a fighting chance.

We might feel like we get to have ONE day a week where the time is just for us.

We deserve one day for fucks sakes, don't we?!?!

Or will this trigger a whole bunch of uber political in Vancouver to call me racist again.  I don't give a shit anymore.

I love these kids, regardless of their class or their colour, so everyone sitting behind their books and computers in their privacy of cushy Vancouver can fuck off before you open your mouths.

You've already ostracized me enough that you couldn't possibly do any worse, so I'm done with all of you.

The point is, I also love my alone time.

It would be the same in Canada.

I like to be alone.

I'm giving them 6 days a week at the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.

Even the locals get one day a week off.

Why not the expats too?

Are we not deserving of that?

I think we are.

They have a month to get it and then Pissy Face comes out.

i take pleasure in my own solitude

new world

2 beds.

That's all they have in the emergency room in the city of Gaspar Hernández that our village borders.

All the new mothers with their babies are lined up for their immunization, and when they're done with immunization, everyone waits in the hallway with about 40 other new mothers.

Everyone thought the baby was mine, but I was only there to be part of the Little Angel's very first immunization.

They all laugh when I tell them I'm the godmother.

I suppose it's just a novelty to most to have a gringa for a godmother.

But the Little Angel is quite comfortable with me, and Our Favourite keeps offering for us to take him home for good.  Make him OUR baby.

I tell him, "I want to!  But your dad needs him."  Papa is VERY proud of his boy.

2 pediatric doctors tag team with all the mothers who need them.

There are signs everywhere that say to wash your hands with soap and water to ward off disease, but obviously that only applies to your own home, because there is no soap with which to do so in the hospital.

Newborns are everywhere, and dirty hands are touching them.

Not that we have it much better here at Casa Paraíso.  We have soap, yes, but no water.  However, we have electricity.  It seems we get a choice of one or the other.

Today, I'll be the smelly gringa who tries to cover up my BO with more pit shit.

I've given up on trying to feel fresh and pretty.  I'll leave that up to all the other lovely ladies here.

I might as well become a hippy.  My hair is definitely long enough now.

I just tie it back all the time, or up in some kinda do with my hair rags.  What's the point if I can't shower?

Anyway, Our Fave's Mom is in Gaspar Hernández with her sister who cares for them with all the love of the mother herself.

She's a great help.

They're grateful when I come, because they get a break and pass the Little Angel off to me.

I fawn over him as they clean and giggle at me speaking to him in English.  Baby doesn't care.  He can't understand Spanish either, so I'm good.

The people in the tiny little dwellings where Our Fave's Mom is staying are starting to get to know me and vice versa.

A few of them make sure I'm safe.  They watch over me as I walk, talk between people for me and surround me with their presence.

When they're not there, I have to say, it's like putting a young, pretty, naive girl in the pit with a gaggle of construction workers back home.

The leers, ogling, cat calling, attention sucking sounds and words I don't have to understand to know what they mean, really make me MUCH more than uncomfortable.

I know how to handle those creeps back home now, as I'm not the spring chicken I used to be, not to mention, not being the spring chicken, they leave me alone now.

There are good things to be said about aging for this femme ridden with P.T.S.D.

Still, I have visions of the poor woman who died from a gang rape in India.

I try my best to put on the 'don't fuck with me' face, but just like my intuition doesn't work here, neither does my Pissy Face.

I keep my stun gun in my purse.  I don't carry any cash.  I dress down.

It's a new world, and it's not MY world.

It's not the same when Papi is with me.  The men don't bother me as overtly.  But today was too early for mi esposo to play The Godfather.

It's a world that I have to adapt to, learn how to survive and most definitely, seek out the better hospitals.

No matter how bad off I am, I won't be visiting the one in Gaspar Hernández.

No toilet paper or soap, and only two beds with every sick person in the city lined up against the wall.

Nope.

I come home and clean myself pronto after a visit to that building.  Today, with water we bought from the local store.

New world, new dangers.

New life.

i maintain my self-confidence at all times in all places

dog mania

I need a vacation from my baby sister's vacation.

We're quite busy.

Not to mention, I'm eating the worst foods.  All my allergy foods, and now I'm kinda in addiction mode.  No problem.  Veggie day today.  All day.  Only veggies.  That will take care of that!

So, it wasn't a surprise to me when I found there was a bit of a Hurricane Andréa sighting in the house this morning.

It didn't help that I had the Housemaid come trying to get more money out of us this morning.

We had made the mistake of feeling sorry for her, and decided we would use her to get the rocks we so desperately need for our front area to protect us from those waves.

Those waves are CRAZY today!  Our yard will be washed away if we don't get a barrier.

But again yesterday, she tried to tell us we need to pay off the authorities in order to do it.

I just looked at her and said, "Fine.  No more money.  No more Marina.  No rocks."

I find it 'interesting' that she returned this morning, saying there was no need for Mr. Extortion now.

Somehow, she got 'permission', which was explained to me while I was trying to do my morning routine today.

I think I need a sign on all the doors.

"Do not disturb the gringo while she's eating breakfast.  There will be swift consequences.  It is her blog time."

So, I'm doing my blog after the fact, but, like I said, makes for a bitchy, Pissy Face.

Anyway, I'm also a little tired from trying to keep up with my baby sister and family.

Today, they're on an excursion, so we're going to pick up another dog.

I mean, what else should we be doing other than picking up another dog?

She's only 4 months and should prove to be a GIANT hound.

She's an Irish wolfhound crossed with a rottweiler, so, imagine a really tall, bearded rottweiler.

She's another rescue.  Well, here in the Dominican Republic, almost all the dogs are rescues.  Not too many people buy their dogs from breeders.

Except Mr. Richy Rich next door.  He OBVIOUSLY got his 3 rottweilers from a breeder.

Fine dogs those ones.  They walk like a school of fish.  Their rottweiler asses switch back and forth, in an equal, graceful gait, with every gargantuan step they take.  Mouths open in a half smile, heads turning in tandem from any noise that might be grabbing their attention.

Gorgeous!!!

Anyway, we're good with mutts and Dominican dogs.

So, while my sister is out giving candy and school supplies to the Haitian village kids, we'll be bringing home another dog.

The people at AAAS were grateful that we tried out Mr. Majestic.  Now they have excellent information about him, so that they could market him for the right family.

It made me feel so much better.  It felt like we weren't just dropping off a dog because we gave up.  We were giving some family the proper information so that he could be placed in a home where he gets the right attention, and perhaps doesn't have to feel like he's failing all the time.

How horrible it must be to always be told you're doing the wrong things?!?!

He'll go to a family where he'll be the greatest guard dog, be told he's wonderful and live happily ever after.

Old Ghost Face is doing so much better now!  She's come up for cuddles, and even came into the house for 10 minutes.

Well, not really on her own.

Papi sorta 'lovingly' dragged her in to let her know she's allowed.

The visit didn't last too long.  I don't think she's ever been in a house.

But here we are.

Dog mania.

Dogs.

Nothing but dogs.

I'm in heaven.

healthy foods taste better

Mr. Extortion was back.

The roosters are crowing.

The sun is shining.

I'm moving from this lying down place to the outside to watch the pool get built.

It's my new TV.

Here's yours: episode 2.

Yesterday, Mr. Extortion showed up in our yard again.

At first I was thinking to myself, "What the fuck are YOU doing in MY fucking yard!?!?!" and was about to ask him such.

Then I remembered I can't take the guy on.  He's corrupt and fucking scary.

But that didn't stop me from having Pissy Face.

My Pissy Face wasn't as covert as Papi would have liked, prompting him to say, "You are looking really upset.  Stop it."

To which I replied, "It's my fucking house and my fucking yard.  I can have any fucking face I want on MY fucking property."

The reason I was mostly angry, was Mr. Extortion just showed up unannounced and was hanging out with our house maid, all best buddy, chatty chatty.

Smiles wide.

You know why?

They both had on beautiful new clothes.

Other than his designer jeans and fancy man top, dude had on a brand new pair of gorgeous white Doc Martins.

Hell.  I can't afford that.

Know why?

BECAUSE HE TOOK ALL OUR FUCKING MONEY!!!!

So, there they are, all decked out in brand new duds and I'm sitting in an 2nd hand dress that is destroyed by way of her fucking bleach.

They sure looked nice in their new clothes.

Apparently, he was here just to 'make sure nothing NEW was being done'.

They are not the suffering developing world people I thought they were.

Nor are they are ever using Papi or I for any more cash.

Then she crossed the line.

When it was time to talk to our plumber, who is my biggest hero in the world right now, ...

... damn it's nice to have a warm shower again!! ...

... the house maid decided that she would follow Papi in to eavesdrop on their conversation about how much we're being charged for our water to be fixed.

Fortunately, he told Papi he'd tell us tomorrow, so she didn't get the inside scoop.

But damn.

She's really making herself at home here.

She lived here for 11 months while the house sat empty, so she feels like it is hers.

It's not anymore.

And bringing in strangers who's husbands are in jail, not to mention Mr. Extortion is really not cool.

There will be some changes around here, because now I'm so fucking angry that I have no qualms about telling her what I expect out of an employee.

We will never be giving her any more than the money we give her while she's employed.

Which isn't for much longer.

Her family is not our DR Family any longer.

Let me tell you.

I am so angry, that after all was said and done and there was nobody left in our yard, I ate an entire bag of corn chips in seconds flat.

I hate it when I have an angry eating episode, but even more horrible is the fact that I was so nauseas from eating all the crap!!!

OK.

So, I got that off my chest.

Now I'm going to go outside and watch the concrete dry.

i let go of my anger so i can see clearly.