"Kidnapped" to hang with smelly cows

Right, so I didn’t know there would be cows. At least not any closer than the car speeding down the freeway (of course, cars don’t do that here as a) there are no freeways b) anything that resembles one is congested). But somehow “mosquito catching” gave the impression of field with a pond or even a swamp. Not so much Mostly, it was a cow enclosure or whatever it is called – you know, like a chicken coop, but for cows.

Not exactly smelling like flowers. But at least we were all together. On the way over, I am in the car with the entomologists. The head entomologist is like, we are just going to turn around and drop the other guy off at the hotel. Ok. Except then we are driving past the hotel. And then I’m like “we have to wait for the other three vehicles because they don’t know where they are going.” But then head entomologist is already on the phone, the guy in front is singling at the top of his lungs, and the two other entomologists beside me are giggling and speaking Spanish like it’s going out of style.

So we finally stop at the other hotel, the other cars call, and they get some directions. When we arrive at the cow enclosure, they were all laughing and saying I thought I was getting kidnapped. Well no, but kind of. There were a zillion cows. It was quite smelly. Enough said.

Into Haiti

Today I sprayed my eyes with deet. Like straight on. Accidentally, of
course. Fortunately, I had bottled water to wash it off a bit, but
then it got on my nose and mouth… Anyway, I can still see so all is
good.

Today was also our first entry into Haiti. The border crossing,
despite the presence of UN Peacekeepers from Uruguay, was a bit scary.
Dominican vehicles aren't allowed to enter, so you cross on foot. Kind
of like crossing from Texas to Ciudad Juarez but with goats.

The differences between the two countries crystallize in an instant.
The language, the people, the extreme poverty. We also acquired a
whole new set of translators. This was great, except when they were
all talking at the same time, with the quadrilingual translators from
the DR… At one point I had six translators following me, all saying
vastly similar, yet different things. But they were all awesome.

Today we visited a community. There were (possibly rabid) dogs, but
fortunately, the interpreters and health worker were totally cool with
them and made them go away. They laughed at me for being scared of the
(possibly rabid) dogs, but at least I don't have to get rabies shots.

The number one thing about going into Haiti, aside from obvious health
and security issues, is that you need to cross the border BEFORE it
closes. Even the Lonely Planet (who gave me a free copy) says so. And
to make things interesting, Haiti is an hour behind the DR. Our group
had split up, we were headed to either a drinking well or a malaria
breeding ground (we're not sure which), when our trusty Club Med
translator pulled out his logistics executive hat and had the driver
turn around to take us to the border pronto before it closed. Note,
you CAN allegedly cross the border after hours, but you would get
really dirty.

Tonight at dinner and cervesas (I didn't have cervesas) I sat next to
one of the DR's top entomologists (no, not epidemiologist) who totally
gave me THE most fascinating lesson on mosquitoes. Seriously. Not
enough to learn more necessarily, but enough to go on a mosquito
catching trip with their group tomorrow night!

To Sleep Sack or No?

I knew we had arrived in the Dominican Republic when a mosquito appeared in the airplane's cabin right before landing. The lush green carpets below were unlike the beachy, brown terrain I saw on Wikipedia. We went through Santo Domingo slowly gathering the rest of
our crew – program staff, local parters, the photographer and the translators – loaded into our large- cabin (for short people) pickups and headed to the border, a 6-7 hour drive.

I'm in the loud car (because we are all talkers), with Roberto our driver, she who has yet to have a Spanish pseudonym Atlanta person, and Ramon, who is shepherding the translators… from Club Med. Yes, from THE Club Med and no, there were no beverages at the offing. Turns out, Ramon is an executive at Club Med have worked with our host organization before, and when he heard they needed translators on this trip who spoke Spanish, Creole and French, he approached the CLUB MED FOUNDATION about it and lo and behold, we have translators. Hurrah!

I know what you are thinking – did she use the now infamous sleep
sack? The answer is yes. Although the hotel (aka b&B) is perfectly
good, I had a bit of an unsubstantiated bed bug fear, plus there was something comforting about crawling into this blue haven with my sarong wrapped around my shoulders and a stolen airline pillow. Also, to drown out the party from down the street to which we weren't invited.