I Heart Evangelical Christians

My wife has a hard time with heavy metal. When I listen to Falls of Rauros or Wolves in the Throne Room, I do it through headphones. She can't take the screaming. She is quite sonically adventurous - she likes everything from classical music to an experimental genre that is called, literally, "Noise" -  just not when it comes to certain extremes of the human voice. It reminds her of being yelled at.

So she has something of a hard time when the Evangelical church two houses over from us gets going. I'm not trying in any way to disparage los evangélicos by saying that they're screamers. I am just trying to be accurate. I recognize that they might prefer the word "praise" (or in español, dar oración) but when you are praising so intensely that your voice breaks, you're screaming.

I kind of dig it! And not just because I am the guy that likes screaming music.

As I grow older and become more invested in my own spiritual path the more I celebrate the spiritual expression of other people.  I think it's a good thing that evangélicos pray in the way that they think is best. I also think I get why they scream. Sometimes a feeling is so powerful that it possesses the entire body and forcefully escapes through the mouth. In metal this process is cathartic - bad feelings get shouted out - but it happens to Evangelicals when they are having a good time.

This sonic similarity is one of many things that I am surprised to appreciate about Evangelical Christianity as it is practiced in the Dominican Republic. It might be a bit early to call, but I'll go on the record as a fan. Evangelicals play a surprisingly large role in society here given that they are outnumbered by Catholics by more than two to one.

Despite being extremely expressive in their praise - I've been to other Evangelical churches and even the ones where they don't scream the volume is still turned up to 11 - they serve as a moderating force in Dominican culture. Dominicans dance and drink and do the dirty deed at rates only barely exceeded tourists in Punta Cana.  I don't think that drinking, dancing and doin' it are inherently bad but I do think that these stats for alcoholism and teen pregnancy suggest that Dominicans, as a whole, need to tone it down a little bit.

Which is exactly what evangélicos do. They don't drink, they don't dance (outside of church) and they (allegedly) don't do it before they're married. Yes, all human beings are capable of hypocrisy and, yes, Catholics have moral precepts too, but from my own observations it seems to me that your average evangelical en la República takes their commandments more seriously than your average católico.

I think that this is because Evangelical Protestantism is a relatively new thing here. I have met some multi-generational Evangelical families but I have met more new converts away from Catholicism. This is important not because I am an ex-Catholic myself (though I am), nor because I am a fan of Evangelical doctrine (we actually have profound disagreements) but because when you convert you are by default making a choice. And when you make a choice about a religion you necessarily have to consider your own behavior.

This isn't just a Dominican thing. It happens in other cultures, too.  I, un americano, came up Christian but converted to Buddhism when I needed to make some big changes in my life. Korea, a traditionally Buddhist country, has high rates of alcoholism despite the Buddhist prohibition against abusing alcohol. What religion to Koreans convert to when they want to turn it from 11 to 7? Christianity.

I am into choosers, even if it's a choice I don't particularly agree with. It suggests a certain liberalism, not in the political sense of the word but meaning "openness to new ideas."

This surprised the heck out of me when I first realized it. Like many liberal-ish Americans who came of age during the Bush years the I associated the word "Evangelical" (meaning merely that you preach your faith to others as opposed to practicing it at home) with bad pop music and outsized influence in public policy. I had a negative conception that can only be described as prejudice. How ironic is it my biggest experience of cultural exchange in Peace Corps is a with group I already thought I knew?

The same is true for Jehovah's Witnesses. Don't worry, I won't be knocking on your door anytime soon but I now know something about their practice (as opposed to nothing) and so far I like what I have seen. My project partner is a testigo and upon visiting his house I was pleasantly surprised to discover a shelf full of books - not the most common site here. It turns out that becoming a full-fledged testigo requires a lot of study and therefore the J-dubs are seriously into literacy. The book shelf didn't bear only JW books. They were just books about the world. I am not into their doctrine but I admire the outward facing interest.

I hear that Mormons are on the upswing here, too. This doesn't surprise me. Outward facing interest aside, the RD has to be the easiest assignment in todo el mundo for missionaries, be they Mormon or any other group. The Dominican national pastime (other than baseball) is sitting on the front porch visiting with folks. They prefer folks they know but in a pinch they'll flag down a stranger and give them coffee.

I believe that these different denominations represent the introduction of religious diversity to RD. Even if it's just new flavors of Christianity right now, it's only a matter of time before it includes other religions. That's how it worked in Europe and the US, after all. As a diversity loving heathen, I approve!

Helpful skills for life in the campo

How to swing a machete

How to dance*

How to ride on the back of a moto without using your hands

How to cook over a fogon*

How to take a bathe, shave, and brush your teeth using only one pitcher of water

How to tell if "Yes, soon" means "Yes, soon" or "No"*

How to keep up with a conversation while only understanding 40% of what is said

How to wash clothes by hand*

How to sit on the edge of the bed of a moving pickup without falling out

How to make coffee in an empty tin can*

How to hook up a solar panel

How to politely equivocate when answering the question whether or not your are going to have
children*

How to flush a toilet using a bucket of water

How to politely steer the conversation away from religion so you don't have to tell people you're not a Christian*

How to use a toilet with no seat

How to haggle politely while still getting a fair deal*

How to address someone's illiteracy without making them feel ashamed

How to hiss at someone politely*

How to say "Hi" in Kreyol

How to peel a green banana*

*Pending

Things that I saw in San Francisco that I don't see in my DR pueblo

Neutered dogs.

Human waste in the streets.

People walking dogs on leashes.

Declawed cats.

Collars on pets.

People cleaning up after their dogs.

Children wearing bicycle helmets.

Stop signs at intersections.

Recycling bins.

People you have lived next to for years but still don't know their names.

Police cars everywhere.

Adults jumping in terror at the sight of a cockroach.

Children going to school without uniforms.

Students sleeping in class.

People carrying hand sanitizer with them everywhere.

Newspapers.

People with visible displays of non-Christian religious identity.

People of non-European or non-African descent.

Openly gay people.

Rats the rize of chihuahuas.

Things that I see in my DR pueblo that I didn't see in San Francisco

Dog testicles.

Animal waste (dogs, chickens, horses) in the streets.

People walking horses and mules.

7 year olds riding horses bareback.

10 year olds driving motorcycles.

People walking safely in the middle of the street.

Children wandering safely and freely without adult guardians.

Speedbumps everywhere.

People burning trash.

All of my neighbors, every day.

Police sleeping in plastic chairs on the lawn of the station.

Adults jumping in terror at the sight of a frog.

Parents spanking their children.

Adults disciplining strangers' children.

People sharing food with strangers.

Everyone's laundry.

Doors left unlocked and open when no one is home.

People walking with parasols.

Ditches laterally bisecting the streets

Flying cockroaches the size of business cards.

Living the Good Life

Things that I do in the DR that I don't do in the US

 Greet 90% of the people I pass on the street.

Take baths out of a plastic bucket.

Walk 1 km+ to find a decent cell signal.

Carefully fold the TP after wiping to make sure only white is visible before throwing it in the zafacon.

Take a nice long nap after lunch.

Take transit 2+ hrs to the nearest ATM.

Eat fresh fruit from my backyard.

Eat fresh eggs from my backyard.

Drink milk.

Eat meat.

Buy TP by the roll.

Ride in the back of a pick up truck.

Ride on the back of a motorcycle.

Drink hot chocolate 4+ times a week.

Shave every day.

Play with strangers' children.

Things that I do in the US that I don't do in the DR

Sit next to strangers without introducing myself.

Take hot showers.

Spend hours on the internet doing nothing.

Flush TP down the drain.

Sleep outside of a mosquito net.

Commute 1 hr+ to work.

Buy fresh fruit at the grocery store.

Eat fresh veggies without first dunking them in bleach water.

Drink water from the tap.

Eat at restaurants.

Buy anything in bulk.

Ride a bicycle in the street with traffic.

Get a ride out of town a moments notice.

Drink more than 1 kind of beer.

Receive mail.

A Memory of Swans

I rose from an afternoon nap and walked to the end of the road. I was well-rested but slow-waking and in that fuzzy space between I wondered where the swans were.

When I was small my grandparents, my mother's father and mother, lived on a short street in suburban Michigan which ended at a little pond and the owner of that property kept a pair of swans on the water. In my childhood I would often walk down to look at them.

There were no swans at the end of this road. There was no pond but rather a cañada, a sewage canal between banana trees that is actually quite lovely except for the smell. I was not in suburban Michigan but in a residencial in Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic, where my wife and I are undergoing training to serve in the Peace Corps.

I can only suppose that I conflated this new reality with a nearly forgotten memory because the people I am currently living with so remind me of my grandparents, now deceased. Like them their skins are tan from childhoods on farms, a lifetime of hard work, and a retirement spent in the tropics. Grandma Violet and Grandpa Leo spent their latter winters in Florida whereas Don Pedro and Doña Esperanza enjoy retirement in their native country having spent their working years in Nueba Yol (New York City). Like them, they are Catholic, cherish their families and enjoy dominoes. I am grateful to know them. They have opened their home to my wife and I in the middle of a profound and disorienting experience. They serve good food and seem to enjoy our company despite our mediocre Spanish.

Don and Doña are Spanish titles of respect given to anyone of a certain age. Their nearest English equivalents are "Sir" and "Ma'am" but they carry more gravitas. You needn't have nietos (grandchildren) to be a   Don or Doña but chances are you probably do. I will refer to them by their titles and first names only, not just to respect their privacy but also as a matter of policy. Peace Corps prohibits me from disclosing certain details about my service.

If you are reading this, chances are you know me, but if you don't I encourage you to leave a comment in the and say hi. I hope to update this once a week and will try to address any questions come up. But, as noted above, I won't be able to include certain specifics. I can guarantee that it all otherwise happened as described. However, It won't necessarily have occurred on the day it is posted. I want to allow time to process experience before writing about it. This first entry, today, comes three weeks after I have been in the country.

A final thought, about the title of this blog: an hombre serio is a "serious man," one worthy of respect. It has been stressed to us repeatedly that maintaining a dignified appearance is important in Dominican society and thus crucial to being trusted enough to get things done. I intend to do my best to keep up appearances while I am here - why should they take me seriously if I can't even bother to shave every morning? I imagine that this will elicit a chuckle from readers who have known me for a long time. For those who don't, I'm sure that I'll stumble sooner or later and my missteps will out me for the goof that I am.

Cero means "zero."