How to build a barbershop in the campo

The picture below was taken nearly a year ago during jornada (workday) that Cat and I scheduled to improve a local hiking trail. I haven't written much about it here because it was kind of a fracaso (failure). Trying and failing is a big part of Peace Corps service but it's not the kind of thing that motivates one to lift the pen.

We still haven't completed the project.
 

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Junior earns part of his income as a guía turistica (tour guide). It was he who guided us out to the waterfall and did most of the work that got done that day. The idea was (and still is) to improve the conditions of local trails to make them more attractive (and safer) for tourists to visit local
gems.

This would clearly benefit Junior, because there isn't enough work as a guide to support him or his family. Most of the time works a barber but he occasionally works part time in construction, which is how he got a job painting the town park. Painting your house for the new year is a Dominican tradition that dates back to the dictatorship and our new síndico applied the principal to civic infrastructure.



Because he is an hombre serio Junior decided to use the windfall of cash to better his prospects by beginning construction on a peluquería. It was a good idea!

Junior is a talented peluquero (barber). Personal appearance is very important in Dominican society so the muchachos need to look sharp for school. Local parents prefer Junior over the other peluquería which is attached to the discoteque and sold rum. With a steady clientele all he needed was a work space that wasn't his living room.

But he started the project without a presupesto (budget) and his money quickly ran out. For months it looked like this.

Until my counterpart suggested to Junior that he get a loan. Lending in the DR is pretty precarious: my community-run institution charges 33% APR and we offer better rates than most banks! I was worried about Junior's prospects of paying back the loan so I suggested to him that we institute a system of contabilidad (accounting).

What we came up with was pretty simple. Junior wrote down them name of every client that came in, what service they wanted, and whether they paid en efectivo or whether he gave them fiao. We used this to estimate his average monthly income.

We also totaled up all they money he had spent on construction and used the data to estimate how many pesos it would take to complete construction.

Now Junior knew exactly how much money he needed to borrow and how long it would take him to pay it back.

So he was able to open the doors . . .

 . . . and start construction again.

 

This is what it looked like when I got my hair cut there last week.

Don't take my word for it

The truth is,  Cat and I are not the only volunteers in this little pueblo in the mountains. We have recently received un jóven named Chase who is kindly assisting us with an ecotourism project. He is here on an internship between Washington and Lee University and Onwards,  Inc.

Like me, he maintains a blog of his experiences here.

A Race from Top to Bottom

Our first few weeks have mostly been concerned with getting to know our way around but we've already been able to participate in a satisfying project. It was not just technically outside of my site but also technically out of my province and far outside of my assigned project. Though it took place just up the mountain road from our pueblo when we hopped out of the pickup bed we were no longer in Elias Piña but Dajabon. And just as I don't live in the hot and dry Elias Piña of the south, this was not the busy and bustling Dajabon of the famed international market. We were in a small hillside village and we were there to plant trees.

The project was coordinated in part by another PCV and an NGO but most of the work was done by locals. The trees had been grown in a vivero (plant nursery) owned by the local Asociación de Producción de Bosques (Reforestaction Association) and the lion's share of the labor was done by local high school students.

The land was steep and the day was hot and the bosquedores had grown some 2000 pines and other native trees for us to plant. We worked the entire hillside from the bottom to the top and back down again. The jovenes (youth) approached the job with the uneven effort of teenagers everywhere. Some worked, but the kids who were literally too cool for school (they got the day off for volunteering) chatted in the shade. My work with troubled youth in the States has taught me skills rooted in positive reinforcement to challenge and motivate the disengaged. This worked with some of them, but the doña's approach was more effective. "Look at me! I'm over 60 years old and I'm dripping with sweat! What are you, flowers?"

Dominicans, generally speaking, are more direct with their children than American parents but slightly less so than American drill sargents. They worry about delincuencía (juvenile delinquency) but this to me seemed more like garden variety laziness. Also, some of the muchachos would likely be working in the fincas (agritultural tracts of land) later that week and possibly for the rest of their lives so I can't blame them for lack of enthusiasm. Still, we got the work done in time for lunch. We were assisted by a kicky mule who dutifully hauled saddlebags of matitas (seedlings) from the bottom of the slope to the top. He was a huge help but you had to steer clear of his hindlegs.

The land we planted was owned by the bosquedores so we know the trees won't be cut down but in the national parks it's a different story. The slopes of nearby Nalga de Maco are steadily being denuded of their timber. Some blame Haitians coming over the border to harvest carbón (charcoal) but more often than not it is poor Dominicans. Without better prospects the best way to make a living along the border is to plant beans in the hillside and sell them at market.

They lack land and opportunities but not consciencia. Dominicans are well-educated on the problem of deforestation. Haiti is so badly deforested you can see the difference from space. During the years of dictatorship and caudillisimo the Dominican forestry service was militarized and illegal loggers and farmers were jailed. Today, enforcement is lax. I imagine it is a grim business. Just barely getting by and knowing you're not doing yourself any favors them in the long run.

Every time it rains the water washes loose clay from the hillside where it runs into the valley where it runs in a ruddy band in the river. The locals tell me that the river is wider and deeper than it used to be. Without trees to drink it it the water flows into the valley. Without trees to retain the moisture and release it as mist it rains less and each season grows hotter. Climate change is real.

One local I talked to likened it to a race between deforestation and reforestation. It remains to be seen which side will win but I got back in the pickup proud, tired, and happy to have carried the baton a little further in the right direction.