Skip to main content

Hey Baby, Can I PLEASE Be Your Visa?

So, I´ve come to a decision: At the end of the mission, I´m going to walk up to the first male Dominican I find and ask them if I can be their ticket out of here. I mean, they ask me and my companion often enough; I feel like it would be rude not to return the favor. But in reality, it´s not that bad. We haven´t been harrassed; for the most part people just like to say "ooooh, Americanas!" I don´t know what the correct response to that is. "Ohhhhh, Dominican!?" I don´t know. But it makes me want to laugh and roll my eyes at the same time. Which I usually do.

So, in other news, we have a mice/lizard infestation in our house. The lizards have a real fondness for my shoes and my companion´s pillow. And everytime I try to catch it, it makes these impossible, Kristi Yamaguchi-like leaps into the air and evades me. It likes to be in our company though. I guess we have a pet, for the time being. As for the mouseketeer, we were doing our nightly planning session and I heard a scratching or ripping noise coming from the room that we don´t use (it´s a house for 4 hermanas but there´s only 2 of us right now). Anyway, we went into the room to check out the commotion, but I knew what it was. I´ve already seen two mice make a break for the crack under our front door. So, we looked but didn´t find. I had the premonition that it was behind the drawers, and sure enough... woop, there it was. Well, it went running for the closet, my companion screamed, and it plunged into a hole in the wall. We covered the hole with abunch of rocks, but I´m pretty sure it´s still in there, somewhere, because later that night... I heard chewing again. Ai!

Well, this entery is short and sweet this week. Ok, really just short. We arrived way late to the internet café, and that´s just how it goes when your on God´s time. But I think it only fair for everyone to know that I am getting used to the facial handshaking here and that this city of Santo Domingo is straight out of the 80s. All the signs for stores are hand painted and the clips the women use in their hair are neon colored and more often than not, in the shape of a huge butterfly or something equally attractive. Such is life. Well, I promise to be more thorough next time. Until then... remember, if you´re gonna do a good deed, you might as well be someone´s visa. It´s the right thing to do. ¿Chao!

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Here I Am... Rock you Like a Hurricane!

O sea, WE were the ones rocked by a rather beastly Hurricane named Issac. I learned (or relearned, I don´t remember), that Hurricanes are named after the people that discover them. I can´t tell if hoping to find and name a future Hurricane "Hurricane Sweeney" is in bad taste or not. But considering we didn´t really have too many negative side effects, I really have no beef with hurricanes. Just that Issac made it so I couldn´t leave me house for two days in a row. And considering we don´t have radio, Internet, T.V., those two days COUNT! So what do trapped missionaries with a mild case of cabin fever do? 1). Make no bake cookies by candlelight (you´re probably not going to have constant light during a hurricane). 2) Attempt to nap. My body won´t let me nap on the mission, but I think during Issac´s visit, I finally managed to succeed. 3). You fight with your companion over whether or not Issac´s howls sound more like her name or yours. I´m still convinced Issac was coming fo...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Said What I Said

So... once upon a time, I used to blog. I blogged for the entirety of my 19-month mission in the Dominican Republic, I blogged, when I came home, and I blogged when I moved to Washington with my mom and little sister. I moved to Arizona, where I still currently live, over five years ago, and that's apparently when the blogging stopped. Ok, well, I did become a frequent contributor for the Young Mormon Feminists blog, but for the sake of simplicity, I'm referring to this, my personal, me-centric blog. I could go into agonizing detail as to why, but I won't. I'll save my retroactive posts about what went on between the world n' me during those fast and furious five years at some point in the future. Some of the best stories are told anachronistically anyway. But I digress. When I revisited this blog for the first time in years a few days ago, I had a pretty obvious epiphany-- that it's essentially my electronic diary, a more permanent way to preserve my tho...
Post a Comment
Read more

D.R. It Stands for "Diligence Rewarded"

Hey, for anyone listening out there, there, there...it´s your good points that define you and your flaws that refine you. But is it not true? I´m not sure I made up this little piece of inspiration; I´m sure there has been something similar or the same already said. But the idea remains. How much easier is it to notice the insultable details, or at least to focus on them? Who cares if her butt looks twice it´s size in those horizontally-striped pants or if his Cologne smells more like sewage than sexy? A+ for effort, people. The best type of compliment is the sincere one said so others can hear. The best sort of helpful, corrective advice is given respectfully, so only the person for whom it is intended can hear. But here´s to enjoying both fabulous feature and faux paus flaws. And speaking of giving compliments, should I just go ahead and gift one to myself? Why, don´t mind if I do! I´ve made it, people. I´ve reached the top. Or as my good friends Queen would say, ...
Post a Comment
Read more