Fighting Cocks, Fierce Bugs, and Classism in the DR

I bat away a melange of insects as I write this on the lawn of a school, the only place where I have internet access. On Monday, I moved to Caribe, a small rural village near the small town of Bonao; it’s about an hour and a half northwest of Santo Domingo. I live with a single family, but across the path is where her parents and sister’s family live, which makes it a very social living environment. Also, there are a lot of gregarious young children, each of which wants to show me everything they know, haha. The family’s most, shall we say, unexpected hobby is that they breed fighting cocks, and I accepted (perhaps foolishly) an invitation to observe a fight on Sunday.

The one on the left is alive, which means that he won his last fight.  The one on the right doesn't fight...yet.

The Pied Piper of Caribe.  Only I'm the one being led.

It’s been my personal quest to accept all invitations that come my way. Because of this mantra, I have had some pretty awesome experiences throughout the three weeks I’ve been here, and I have met loads of people from different extremes of society and everything in between. Because I’m here to work in a social sciences capacity, I’ve also used this as an opportunity to ask and listen; because of a range of factors (i.e., my age, my occupation, my gender, my ethnicity, my approach - I'm not viewed as very threatening) people are generally very open to sharing their thoughts and feelings.  The disparate perspectives are starting to come together to paint a bigger picture of the social landscape of the Dominican Republic.

One thing that’s been very noticeable is the general lack of trust in others. Government and police are generally very corrupt, and social services are largely dysfunctional, from water and electricity to public schools. I think that this, in addition to a history of authoritarian rule, has contributed to a sense of competitive self dependency, which has spilled over into intergroup relationships as well. For example, Dominicans are very quick to stereotype people from different ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds, imagining each group to be a homogenous and threatening entity. The “Other” seems to loom formidably in every conversation about social issues. What’s more is that there’s an unveiled hatred for the “Other:” stereotyping is typically pared with verbal dehumanization. When I softly challenge people’s assumptions, sometimes they rephrase, sometimes they don’t…it’s just an interesting manifestation of deeply ingrained classism that moves in all directions. People are very proud to be Dominican, but many don’t like to imagine that they share this country with other Dominicans unlike them in some way.

I’m definitely going to try to incorporate some of this observation into the peace curriculum I’m creating for the school out here. Although the levels of direct violence outside of the family are not extremely high, structural violence (i.e., inequality and inequity built into the structure of society) is a big issue here. I’m taking more of a transformational approach in both the curriculum and the workshops I'm designing, so this could work itself into the programming relatively easily. This week, I’ve been meeting with some directors and students, and I’m hoping to also meet with teachers. I’d like to progress the project with as much collaboration as possible, which I’m hoping will make the program contextually appropriate and increase its chances of sticking when I leave in eight weeks. There's a lot to do but not a lot of time to do it!

Switching gears, a couple weekends ago I traveled with some friends I made here to Isla Saona. It’s a beautiful island off the southeast coast of the Hispaniola near Bayahibe. It was a little bit of a ride to get there, but definitely worth it.

Isla Saona.

This past weekend, I went to Parque de los Tres Ojos (Park of Three Eyes) located near Santo Domingo; it’s a park with cenotes (or cave pools fed by underground rivers).

At the cenotes with Catherine, my Chilean friend.