End of Summer

Hello all!

Wow, I am officially a blog slacker. In my defense, it has been summer, so there has been little to do and thus little to report you all on. School is officially back in session, however the first couple of weeks are slow and I feel like I’m being pushy when I ask the teachers if there’s anything they want me to do. That’s okay though because my dad is coming next week so I could use a little more free time from work at the school.
So it is almost mid-September, officially more than a year since my arrival in St. Kitts, and I am still pretty much intact. I can’t really say at this point whether I am made wiser and stronger by life-altering epiphanies, but I can say that I am better versed in Kittitian culture, lifestyle, and workplace. After my first couple of weeks back in St. Kitts I was forced to harden back up and fight away the unpredictable bouts of homesickness and loneliness as best I could. As much as I do have valuable human interactions here, I don’t know if I’ll ever fully overcome the lonely feelings I often experience. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by the isolation of being on such a tiny island surrounded by vast oceans stretching past the horizon. Other times I get discombobulated by the cultural differences that make it difficult to feel truly on the same page as my local friends and co workers. There is always this omnipresent voice in my subconscious monitoring my every move, making sure that I don’t act too "American", too spoiled, too naive, or give a bad face to the Peace Corps. Because this feeling is always following me, even when I’m in areas inundated with tourists (in those situations the pressure is even stronger to counter the negative images that tourists sometimes bring), I sometimes feel boxed in and disconnected in this little glass house. Maybe today is just a difficult day. I really don’t want to sound too dramatic or pitiful. I’ve been feeling quite homesick because the group that was here when we arrived is preparing to leave the island tomorrow and it’s just another wind of change and uncertainty that I’m not always prepared to face. But that’s life and it does indeed go on.
My work has been looking very optimistic as of late. Charles and I put on a summer camp for STYLE that was quite successful and exceeded my expectations. We had a girls’ week where we got to know each other, did self-esteem building exercises, and completed a community service project of re-painting the netball court. The pictures show the before and after; the paint was completely faded away so it was kind of difficult to see the lines and make them perfect, but quasi-straight lines are better than no lines! Unfortunately, the boys were not as easy to lasso in, and only one of them showed up for their week of camp. I’m not too worried about that because the school year has started and I will have better access to these kids where I will be able to pressure them and harass them until they comply.
The girls were very receptive and open to some very sensitive discussion topics and it was eye-opening for me to see how similar these teenage girls are to those in the states. A lot of them had insecurities about their bodies, sex, family life, and growing up. While there were many parallels between the teenage girls here and in the US, some of their tribulations were also very different to what I and my high school friends experienced. Many of these girls and boys act as second parents to their younger siblings, and a few of the girls would have to bring baby brothers and sisters to camp because there was nobody else there to watch them. They live with their extended families in houses that obviously don’t allow for one room per person, so most of the girls share their bedroom with sisters, aunts, grandmothers, or nieces and nephews. I was already quite aware of this cultural custom, but these girls offered a personal perspective on how small and sometimes unforgotten they may feel. They certainly have to grow up much quicker than many of the suburban youths in America.
Unfortunately, one of my tertiary projects, the recycling grant and feasibility study, has fallen through for the year. Apparently there was a document that needed to be turned in by July in order for the grant to be re-submitted and we did not send it in by the deadline. This means that they grant cannot be re-submitted until next July, when I will be winding down my service. As much as I am disappointed and frustrated by this and many other obstacles, I am sure that it is only a matter of time before St. Kitts has a recycling system of its own. This is a very small island of only 42,000 people, and it is very industrialized. Furthermore, there is a lot of pressure on the government to preserve the beauty of this island as a way to ensure the economic lifeline of tourism. I’m not saying that recycling will be here in the next year, or even ten years, but the seed has been planted with the Ministry of Sustainable Development (and Environment) and I think the work of these two volunteers will not be lost or have been done in vain.
On Monday I went to the school to say hi to my kiddies and teachers. It is quite shocking to see how much these kids grow within a few months time span. Many of my sixth graders are now much taller than me and were joking that they could easily beat me up any day at which I nervously laughed. I am so excited to start up the after school program again but I am also nervous because I am so low on ideas. I’m pretty sure I want to pursue an actual theatrical production where these kids will have a chance to raise money for themselves and make decisions on what to do with their earnings autonomously and democratically. The head teacher informed me that the government is working on having an after school program starting in October which is a huge relief for me since I’ve been so worried about the sustainability of this project. A part of me is a little sad because it is going to be an appendage of the school system, thus certain practices like prayer, whipping, and religious-based life skills will continue. I have tried to create a safe haven where the kids can play without physical punishment or proselytizing, and where they are encouraged to treat each other with respect and are forbidden to use violence against each other. The kids feel open to feel talk about anything no matter how controversial, and they are able to be honest without the fear of suffering castigation. Even though I would love for this program to be continued in the manner I see best, I think it is still a tremendously valuable addition to the school and will keep them occupied, creatively challenged, and inspired.


I will update you all when things start gaining back some momentum. I hope everyone is happy and healthy!! Congratulations to my wonderful cousin on her baby boy, Shmuel!

summer!

Hello everyone!!

I’m sorry it has been such a long time since I last wrote. I did get a wonderful visit from my dear friend Stephen, and he spent 5 days here sweating profusely and experiencing the Peace Corps lifestyle. He was actually just nominated for the Peace Corps so I'm very excited for him. :)
After I returned from New York, things were pretty slow and uneventful. School was ending and to my naivety, nothing goes on during the last three weeks of school. And by nothing, I mean a majority of the students don’t even show up. This proved to be a problem since I had planned to take each grade from the after school program on a field trip, yet I couldn’t plan anything because they weren’t even at school. My intrinsic Selman response was “Well if they don’t show up to school, they don’t deserve a field trip”, but really it’s just the custom here. After their test of standards there is no point in teaching anything new, and it was my fault that I was unaware of this custom. I tried to gather as many students as possible, but fourth grade ended up not getting a field trip because I couldn’t secure free transportation.
It’s really difficult to reward these kids when my salary is so low. I know that I have other sources for money and if I really wanted to give them something special my parents would fund it, however that goes against what Peace Corps really stands for. We are not here to do Oprah style acts of kindness and just hand out Dora the Explorer toys like we’re Santa Claus. We live on the local standard so that we can be one with our community and not set ourselves at a higher economic or social platform. We already have to deal with the rampant misinterpretation that all “white” (yes, I am considered white) people are rich, because all these kids see are skewed images of Americans on television shows and tourists on vacation who pay heightened prices for everything. I spend so much time explaining that no, I am not automatically rich because I am an American, when I’m walking through town and people, even school children, come up and ask me for a dollar. I don’t want to completely contradict myself by throwing down a couple hundred dollars to take these kids somewhere special. I think I’ll wait until my very last month of my service and then just spoil them like I’ve wanted to this whole time.
So the point of this long preface is that I had to find a place that wouldn’t cost money and to where we could find transportation. Luckily, at least one child from each grade had a father with a bus or taxi. I begged and reminded and nagged and repeated for them to ask their father for about two weeks, and they kept telling me that their fathers could do it. I knew that I would have to call their father to verify, and after that, let’s just say two of them fell through when they found out that the white teacher would not be paying for this. It actually is a lot to ask these working fathers to take time out of their work day and use their gas money to take us out to the beach. One girl’s father from sixth grade agreed to take us and which I was incredibly thankful for, so we went to the beach. I had the students bring a lunch and a drink, and then I baked them brownies. It was an amazing day and her father was so incredibly kind; he drove us all the way to the Southern Peninsula where the really beautiful beaches are and drove all the way back at the end of the day to take us home.
For fifth grade, we finally got a student whose father drives a bus to take us to the movies, and I brought them a huge bag of candy that we surreptitiously distributed during the movie. Unfortunately a beach trip wasn’t in the cards because a lot of parents didn’t trust me as being the only adult with kids who can’t swim (rightfully so, because I usually turn into a kid when I’m with them and forget to supervise), so the kids then begged me to take them to the movies. This posed a problem because it’s a pretty expensive outing, so I ended up having to pay for three of their movie tickets because their mothers couldn’t afford it, but I told them to promise not to tell any of the other kids. I spent a majority of the time shushing the kids because apparently they don’t go to the movies to watch the movie, but rather to squirm and throw popcorn at each other. I hate nagging, but I also hate the idea that I’m with those kids that I usually want to shake when I’m at a movie with my friends. If the other movie goers can at least hear that I am trying to quiet them then I thought they would be a little bit more forgiving. Even though they didn’t pay attention to the movie, the point of the trip was to reward them and allow themselves to enjoy their time together, and I think it was successful in that realm.
Fourth grade didn’t get to go on a trip, mostly because the kid that told me her uncle could take us never responded to my phone calls and school had already ended. I want to use this to teach them a lesson on planning and responsibility (Selman technique #37).
Another big event for me was graduation, which gave me a glimpse of the emotional wreck I am going to be when my fifth graders graduate sixth grade. None of the parents got emotional, so I felt like such a sentimental American when I started tearing up. Local people don’t really show such vulnerability, so it’s usually quite embarrassing if they see me cry. I recently saw a ridiculously sappy movie called “My Sister’s Keeper” and my fellow volunteers and I were BAWLING. Walking out of the movie theater looking like we had hives on our faces was awkward at best. We rushed to the bus hiding our faces like we were celebrities dodging the paparazzi. I also made the enormous mistake of breaking down and crying one day when my sixth graders were driving me insane, and they responded with extreme discomfort and unease. They awkwardly patted my shoulder and just stared with wide eyes. The following week I got rushed by the younger kids who were asking why I cried, and why does my face turn red and blotchy when I cry? Apparently light skinned people are not very covert or attractive when we cry.
I had to be an impromptu chairperson for graduation because our assigned chairperson was an hour and a half late on top of the already West Indian style late start. I didn’t realize that being a chairperson entails a lot more than just introducing each event, but they told me I did an okay job. The graduation ceremony lasted for………wait for it……….four hours. And the power went out so the last hour was in the dark, with no fans, and about 100 people crammed into a tiny church. Of course the Kittitians didn’t break a sweat, but I looked like I was melting.
The most emotional part for me was at the beginning, when each student entered the building to pomp and circumstance. They were supposed to be escorted by their parents, but of course, only two of the 18 kids had fathers present, and the rest walked with their mother, grandmother, or auntie. What unleashed the tears for me was that four of my most troubled and misbehaved students had nobody walking with them. There was a photographer waiting at the end of their walk to take a picture of them, and they looked so upset that they were walking alone. How can they not find one family member to come to their graduation? This event is such a big deal for the community and people treat it like it’s a wedding. It’s no wonder that those are the students that I and other teachers have had to spend so much time and effort working with. People and politicians talk about all of the social ills here and how we have to look out for our children and make sure they go to Sunday school, and it is probably those exact people that aren’t there for their children. That is why I have my issues with organized religion and institutionalized politics, because those are the people that issue so many idealistic promises and leave people dependent on this imaginary reassurance that they will be divinely rewarded if they just attend church or submit their vote. There is no agency or self-motivation because so many people are so hypnotized by a figurative master that is always proved right because of intricate self-fulfilling prophecies and selective perceptions. A lot of my embitterment has accumulated from election time and listening to vehement religious arguments between divisive denominations like Seventh Day Adventist, Reformed Baptist, Jehovah Witnesses, etc. almost every single day. I am not trying to paint a negative image of St. Kitts or the West Indies, just offering some all-encompassing social commentary.
As for my summer plans I am tutoring a few students during the week and working hard to get this summer camp started for STYLE. There are a lot of obstacles in our way and a lot of people that don’t want it to happen, but we remain committed. I am also recreationally experiencing St. Kitts, with music festivals, Culturama in Nevis (which is the Carnival equivalent for our sister island), celebrating summer birthdays, and trying to enjoy my last month with EC 77, the group of volunteers that are about to leave the island. I am also in disbelief that I have been here for roughly a year now, and that I am about to turn 23. I’m trying not to let life pass me by, but I can’t help but loosen up a little and just let it flow. This place is absolutely home for me now, and these kids are my life support here. Whenever I am surrounded by 10-15 smiling, jovial, effervescent children I always have to take a couple of moments to soak up the goodness and internalize the moment, because after I leave here, it will never happen again. Sure, I can come back and visit, but I have developed a particular bond with these kids over the past 12 months that will certainly be severed when I leave. For that reason, I am trying to live in the present and cherish every second.

Let me also say, that I honestly could not think it could get as hot as it is now. I move around the house carrying my fan like it's my IV stand. I dread leaving the house, or even worse, going to town where the concrete and unshaded trees feel like someone's holding a magnifying glass in front of the sun. I am actually incredibly relieved that it is hurricane season because we will start getting some rain which may extinguish some of the heat. Luckily this is a great excuse to hit the beach!


Hope everyone is happy and healthy! I miss y’aaaall!

HOME part 2!

I am back and settled into life in St. Kitts. My trip to new york can be described as no less than a chaotic whirlwind. There were so many things to do and so many people to see in those two weeks that it has all blurred together and feels like a distant dream snuggled nicely in my memory box alongside other mementos like snow, sushi, and dishwashers. Immediately upon landing, i felt the air become thicker and more damp, and looking around I was re-awakened to a view of lush, tropical greens and blues as opposed to the steel grays and silvers of the Manhattan landscape. I took a taxi home and the driver, upon reaching my house, asked if I felt safe here. He did it in a caring and protective manner that reminded me of the many reasons why I love St. Kitts.
I certainly did not get to spend an adequate amount of time with each and every person while I was home, yet I know you were all very understanding of the circumstances I was in. When I arrive home for my final stop I know we will have plenty of time to catch up and reconnect.
My first weekend in North America was spent in Ottawa, Ontario for my cousin Jeremy's wedding. It was an appropriately relaxing destination that helped me to ease back into the unfamiliar pace of life up north. Manhattan is a very stimulating environment, however it is simultaneously quite draining, and it was nice to escape from my escape for a few days. Jeremy and Marni's wedding was a beautiful occasion to celebrate and I was so grateful to have so much of my family collectively together. My brother flew in from Geneva, Uncle Tom came up from Maryland with the very entertaining and vivacious Miriam, my very worldly and learned cousin Ari was there in his true radiant form, Ralph and Antoinette Kirshbaum flew in from London, and obviously the beaming parents of the groom, my Uncle Jay and Tanta Patti were there. Of course not everyone could make it, and I was very upset that I didnt get to see my grandparents, my sweet cousin Jessi and her husband, and Tanta Susie during this trip, however I know we'll be able to spend some quality time when I return.
After Canada, I stopped shortly in Binghamton to see some old friends, and then took a trip to Philly to see some more friends. I spent one glorious night in Philly and got to meet the wonderful Doberman Maya who has recently passed away :( . I also went with my friends to see the house that they are moving into, which is coincidentally the house that I will be moving into after my Peace Corps service. It was nice to have met Maya and to see my future home. We ate many delicious sandwiches, drank delicious American beer, and laughed in our usual spasmodic manner over nonsensical gibberish. It's nice to know that no amount of time apart from these people can erase the bizarre and unique idiosyncrasies that we share.
The last weekend of my vacation was spent with some of my very best friends, Shelby and Lyn, who flew up from Dallas, and Jac who drove for 6 hours from Cape Cod with potential corneal ulcers (but maybe just expired contact solution? or eye fatigue?) and very little sleep. Rya was also there. It was wonderful experiencing the city with these crazy women and I can't wait until our next adventure. I hope the world is ready.

There were many precious moments during this trip, whether it was something simple, like coming home to a well-stocked fridge that only my mother could put together, or something new and spontaneous, like going bike-riding with my brother in a city I am unfamiliar to. I was glad I could experience the usual things I love about trips to New York, like having breakfast with my effervescent Aunt Patti or simply walking and talking with my loving and eccentric father. This trip was a reassuring and placating reminder that I know I have a home wherever my loved ones are.

There is much excitement and celebration for the move to our new NYC apartment! which is across the street from our current domain! Upgrades: our apartment is no longer facing the street, which means no loud sirens, loudly cursing drivers, and honking cabs, pets are allowed, which is excellent since I'm bringing Shaggy back to the states, there are friendlier tenants who are basking in the glow of their respective golden-ages, we have a lovely garden with a Selman-like list of meticulous, fun-hemorrhaging rules like no picnics!, the hallways are decorated in an "art-deco" fashion (I think that's what my dad said..I wasn't entirely listening), and the elevators are being renovated. Downside: fluorescent lighting in the lobby.

Hope everyone is happy and healthy
Much love and paz,
alisa

Home!

I am writing this blog entry from my home in New York, eating a granola bar and basking in the air conditioning. I can’t believe I am here in New York after having served 9 months in the Peace Corps. It is surreal, yet at the same time it feels like I never left at all. I find myself missing a lot about St. Kitts which I think is in anticipation of my final good-bye to the beloved island that has become my home.
Returned Peace Corps volunteers often give us a standard piece of wisdom that we have heard countless times from various different people: only talk about your experience for five minutes, and then move on. It’s not that people aren’t interested, it’s just that there is no way to capture our experiences in words or pictures so it’s best not to bore people while you make an attempt. We cannot convey through words these emotions that are so strong and deeply embedded because they have had the chance to accumulate and calcify over a very prolonged period of time. I cannot adequately describe the catalyzing moment that led to a picture being taken, or the sounds, sights, and smells swirling in the atmosphere of that instant. It is hard to stay grounded in the fact that what we are doing is truly real and significant, especially when some of the most important people in our lives cannot see what we see or fully comprehend what those two years really entailed.
Ever since I can remember, I would go straight home to show my parents a drawing I did at school or a good grade I earned on a test. But what happens when my accomplishments are something only I can understand and appreciate? Such conditions make it very easy to extrapolate what makes an endeavor worthy, as well as the genuine reasons I have taken on the projects that I’ve chosen. Do we commit to these efforts for an internal gratification or for external reassurance?
Even amongst fellow volunteers, it is difficult to find a sense of pure and precise empathy. We are all put in entirely different countries, islands, communities, host families, and job situations that engender unique challenges and experiences which are specific to the individual. We attend different churches, have different neighbors, are assigned to different schools, all of which can create impervious realities for that volunteer and that volunteer alone. All of these factors create one of the most unimaginable feelings of loneliness, yet a very empowering sense of self-reliance and independence arises from the clutter.
Those spontaneous moments of growth and self-realization are not something to be written on a resume or read about in a newspaper, but rather they are absorbed by the deepest, inner-most pockets of a person’s soul. It is a gift given to myself, by myself, that only I can comprehend and appreciate. It remains however an immense challenge to accept this entity as a unique reward rather than a curse of isolation and loneliness.
One of the biggest challenge I and other volunteers in the Caribbean face is not the integration or cultural exchanges we are faced with but rather the de-stigmatization of a Peace Corps experience that is located in a vacation destination spot. We Eastern Caribbean volunteers call this Beach Corps stigma, because many of the other PCV’s call our post “beach corps”. Even before I left for St. Kitts, when I would tell people where I would be serving, I would hear “oh wow! A two year vacation!” or “lucky you!” However, anyone that has ever stayed on a resort in a Caribbean country has been urged not to leave the resort because while the country is beautiful and the people are generally wonderful, it is indeed a developing country and something most likely quite foreign to visitors. I do not live in a Marriott suite. Yes, I have access to internet, but surprisingly, much of the world does too. I’ve wanted to be in the Peace Corps since I was very young, and I always envisioned myself leading a completely different lifestyle. Part of me still wishes I could be hand-washing my laundry and milking my own cows, and it is especially difficult to feel content when other people can’t understand the unique challenges we face at our posts. Yet these emotional battles are all intertwined to the issues I was mentioning previously: the importance of weighing our accomplishments according to our own personal scale rather than the standards of others. Just because we are placed in whatever situations we are in does not mean we cannot extrapolate invaluable worth in what we are doing, even if it is as simple as exchanging a smile with a stranger. When we allow our positions and surroundings to impasse our momentum for life then we have fallen prey to weakness and pessimism.


To update you all on my life this past month and a half, I guess I will tell you about the culmination of projects and experiences that fused together right before I left for New York. Most importantly, my co-worker, Charles Thomas, and I held the launch of a weekend-based program named STYLE (Strength Through Youth Leadership and Empowerment), designed for at-risk youth from the local high school. The turnout exceeded our expectations, and the feedback was positive and inspiring. I also completed and submitted a grant to the Small Project Assistance Committee, which, if accepted, will proved 5,000 USD to the starting budget of STYLE.
Within the spectrum of the primary after-school program, I recently took grades five and six on a field trip to a nearby hotel owned by a Jewish-American couple, where they got to hear a discussion on the Holocaust. Ruth and Art Kirsch, the owners of the hotel, had only just found out that a great uncle had been keeping a diary during the War, and in the diary he documented his realization and the aftermath of the killing of his wife and children. The kids had never heard of the Holocaust, and most of them had never been to the hotel, so it was a rewarding and enriching experience for all of them.
I felt that grade four was too young to learn about the Holocaust, so we instead planned a trash pick-up for the community surrounding the school. There were bags full of garbage after we were through and it took four hours to completely clean one road entirely because the garbage was literally embedded into the topsoil. After we finished cleaning we had an impromptu water fight from the pipe at the school using the surgical gloves that had been donated by the local medical school as water balloons. It was one of those moments that I see pictures of and in my mind can hear the exact laughter and happiness that accompanied the moment. The warmth that such a memory brings me is something so priceless and invaluable that I feel grateful to even be able to experience the residual glow that the day leaves in my mind.
Lifting into the air and seeing St. Kitts shrink beneath me was such an unbelievable, out-of-body experience. It is something I have literally had dreams about since I arrived in St. Kitts and the excitement bombarded me in overwhelming volumes. Landing in Manhattan only amplified those emotions as I quickly rediscovered how flat and far-reaching a stretch of land can be. The sunset looks different when it’s obstructed by sky-scraping buildings rather than sky-scraping mountains and the Kittitian crickets have nothing on the ambulance sirens and honking cab-drivers. After seeing Rya and my dad, I immediately settled into my previous life in New York, however I am continuously aware of the biting reality that this seemingly familiar place has another contender as the place I call home. Being around so many people, hearing so many abrasive noises, feeling my lips become immediately chapped from the dry, concrete air are constant physical and emotional reminders that the time I have spent away is very real and influential. I have missed this place so much, yet I know without my friends and family, this place would seem foreign and overwhelming.

I hope to see everyone I can during my trip, but if I am unable to spend adequate time with you, know that I love you and miss you and can't wait to be home next year to spend sufficient amount of time with you