Religion, White Lies and Education: Enrolling the kids in school in Santo Domingo

After three months of summer vacation, followed by homeschooling the kids for three months, I am ready to have the children back in school. In Guatemala, that was not an option. So, I was pleased to learn yesterday that, in Santo Domingo, there is a school just three blocks from our new apartment that may accept the girls for our three month stay.

However, it put a bit of a damper on my spirits to find out that their acceptance to the school was conditional. The first condition was that they pass an exam, in Spanish. All three of the girls – Tatiana and Soraya who are eight and Raymi who is six – speak Spanish. However, their reading ability is limited, as most of their schooling has been in English. Tatiana and Soraya, however, did do the first grade in Spanish, so they should be able to pass a test to get into the third grade.

Raymi, on the other hand, is just learning to read, in English. In addition, the principal wanted to put Raymi in first grade, instead of kindergarten, as she turned six a few days ago. I had my doubts about Raymi’s ability to pass a test in Spanish that would allow her to skip kindergarten. So, I was a bit nervous as we waited the two hours for the school to give us the results of the tests. At least I knew that their chances were reasonably good. Condition #2 was a bit more complex.

When we entered the principal’s office, one of the first things she asked me is if we are Catholics. I told her “yes,” which is only partly an untruth. My husband was baptized and his whole family is Catholic. My grandmother is Catholic, and my father was baptized. However, my parents are now both atheists, so we, of course, were never baptized. Her next question was whether or not the children had been baptized. There, I told the whole truth – that they have not been baptized. She paused, and asked me if we had family members in the Dominican Republic who could do the baptism. I told her I might have someone willing to do the ceremony. She told us there would be a group ceremony on December 2, and that we could do it then.

That, I will have to think about. I will have to do some research on what it means to baptize the children and what sort of compromise I might have made here. To be honest, my main concern was to get the children into a school. This school is only three blocks from our house, and, like most schools in the DR, it is Catholic. Our other option would be an Evangelical school, which could be worse. There are public schools, but I doubt it would be easy to enroll the kids there, as they are not Dominican. I have heard they don’t allow Haitian children to enroll at all, even when they live here permanently, so I am not sure what our chances would be at a public school. Given these circumstances, perhaps a baptism is not the worst option.

This incident and my half-truth in the principal’s office reminded me of many other times I have been questioned about my religious beliefs and the variety of responses I have given. In most cases, I tell people I am not religious, and, if they insist, that I am able to find peace within myself without religion. If they insist more, I tell them I agree with Karl Marx, who argued that religion is the opium of the people.

In other cases, however, I avoid this discussion altogether. For example, when a woman was crying on my shoulder and began to pray, and then asked me, “You are a Christian, aren’t you?,” I just nodded my head. I felt she did not need to be concerned with my salvation at that time. Other times, it is just easier to go along. When I visited my friends in Nigeria, on Sunday mornings, I had the choice between going to church with everyone else and staying home and listening to my friends’ father trying to convert me for the whole time everyone else was at church. I often chose to go to church to avoid the whole issue.

The thing is, although I am not religious, I am not necessarily anti-religious. I do have my issues with religion. At the same time, though, I can see how some people need it, or at least benefit from it. I have met many former alcoholics and drug addicts who were rehabilitated through Christian centers. And, according to them, it is their faith that allowed them to heal. I also have many friends who are deeply Christian. And, when life has been cruel to them, their faith has gotten them through. So, even though I do believe religion is the opium of the people, I also recognize that some people need a little opium to get through life.

By the time I finished going through all of this in my head, it was time to meet with the assistant principal and then the principal. The assistant principal told us that Tatiana and Soraya had done fine in math. Their Spanish, however, was pretty bad. Nevertheless, they were willing to work with us, and agreed to accept the girls. All we had to do was go downstairs and sign some papers. As for Raymi, she decided it would be better to put her in kindergarten, which works out better for everyone.

When we went downstairs to the principal’s office, she asked me again for the baptism certificates. I reminded her of our earlier conversation. However, I think she was just trying to make a point. She gave us our paperwork and directed us to the cashier. Once we paid, I figured we were in. What a relief!

A Blue Mountains Adventure

Note: This is a re-post from June 2009

From Kingston, you can see the Blue Mountains that encircle the city. Ever since Tatiana, my 8-year old daughter, saw the mountains, she has wanted to travel there. On Thursday, as I had finished my interviews, and did my writing early in the morning, we finally decided to take the girls to the Blue Mountains.

Our taxi driver, Ken, offered to take us to Mount Holywell Park for the day, but he charges nearly $100 for the trip. Figuring there must be another way, I did some Internet searching. I came upon a guest house, thirty minutes from Kingston, nestled in the Blue Mountains. I called the owner and asked if we could come up there, have lunch, and do some hiking. She said we could, and that we should take a route taxi from Papine. I called Ken and he gave us a lift to Papine for JA $500 – around US$6.00. He chuckled when I told him our plan, and told us to be safe when we got out of the car.

At the taxi depot in Papine, I spotted a woman who looked as though she was in charge of the taxis. I asked her where I could get a route taxi to Newcastle. She shook her head, and a driver near her told us we needed to charter a taxi. Not wanting to take no for an answer, I explained that I had spoken with someone who told me I could get a route taxi to her place. She suggested I call her. As I was looking in my bag for my cell phone, I explained that we weren't going all of the way to Newcastle. Where we were going is two miles past Red Light.

“Oh, Red Light,” she said, and took us to a combi and asked the driver if he went that far. He said he did, and we piled into the combi. People kept getting into the combi as we waited for the driver to leave. When we finally took off, there were 21 people piled into this vehicle the size of a small VW van.

After a squished, bumpy ride up the mountain, we finally made it to Mount Edge, the guest house I had contacted. We paid the driver JA $600, and got out of the combi. We found Mabel, whom I had spoken to, sweeping and packing basil. I asked her what they had for lunch. She replied that there wasn't any lunch. I was a bit taken aback, as I had told her over the phone that we planned to eat there.

It was 1:30pm, but the kids had munched on chips in the combi on the way up there, so I figured we could hold out a bit. I asked Mabel where we could get something to eat. She said there is a place about 30 minutes up the road, and we could walk there. I figured with the girls walking slowly, we might make it in an hour, so we set out on our hike up the road.

As I suspected, the girls stopped at every stream and small waterfall that we passed. It was a breathtaking hike – the dark green mountains, the clear blue skies, the babbling stream that we kept passing. At one of the waterfalls, the girls ventured up the stream a bit while I sat down and swatted mosquitoes.

After walking for about an hour, we reached a small wooden house that looked somewhat promising. We asked the owner if he served lunch. He shook his head, and said that he only sold chips, sodas, and beer. Tatiana and Soraya got some Pringles, Nando got a beer, and Raymi and I drank the water we had brought with us. We asked the guys at that store where we could find a restaurant. They said it was three miles up the road.

Three miles! Surely Mabel didn't think we could walk over three miles in 30 minutes! We decided to press on and keep walking up the mountain. We figured eventually we would find something to eat. Fortunately, Nando had some cashews and a couple of bottles of water.

After walking and walking, we were almost ready to give up when Nando saw a sign that said “Welcome to Newcastle.” Next to that sign, was “Gap Cafe – Two miles.” The Gap Cafe was still two miles away, but surely there would be a restaurant in Newcastle. When we arrived at Newcastle, we realized it was a military base. Still no restaurant. We decided we would hitch a ride in the first car willing to take us - whether it was up or down the mountain.

The girls were complaining about all of the walking, and I was beginning to get tired and hungry for some real food. We kept on walking, hoping a car would pass by. Finally, a car did, with two young men. We asked if we could ride in their back seat, and they let us pile in. Lucky for us, they were going to the Gap Cafe.

When we finally reached the Gap Cafe, it was 5pm! When I got out of the car, I asked the hostess if they still had lunch. She said, “Sorry, we are closed for a private function.” What were we going to do? The girls were tired and hungry. She looked at us, and then said that she could fix us some food, but that it would have to be to go. I said that was no problem and asked what they had to eat.

We chose two plates – fish in coconut sauce and oxtail. They were a bit pricey, but we had to eat! The hostess allowed us to eat on their patio, which had a very scenic view of the Blue Mountains. The food was scrumptious! Tatiana and Soraya, who generally don't like fish, practically licked the Styrofoam container of the fish in coconut sauce. And, Raymi ate every bit of her oxtail. It was a wonderful meal, in a beautiful setting.

After eating, we didn't have a ride. But, we were full, and now we only had to walk down the mountain. It was only 21 miles to Kingston, after all! We walked for about 30 minutes, and a combi rolled by. We flagged him down, and he said he was going to Strawberry Hill, about halfway down the mountain. We asked if we could ride along, and he agreed to let us.

From Strawberry Hill, we quickly flagged down a car. This one was a squeeze, though. It was a four passenger vehicle, with three people already in it. The girls got in the trunk area, and Nando and I sat in one of the seats. At first, the girls thought it was fun, but they soon began to complain about sitting on metal benches.

Nevertheless, we made it safely to Papine, where we got a taxi back to New Kingston. On the way home, we ate patties and coco bread at Juici Patti, and arrived home tired from a long day. Now that we know where we are going, next time we will go straight to Mount Holywell park and walk down the mountain on the way back!

Sipacate’s beauty, despite the rain

We met Carlos on the boat ride from San Pedro to Santiago de Atitlan. A tall man with a big, bushy, white beard, he was hard to miss. Carlos, a Guatemalan American retired mathemetician in his sixties, was planning to go to Sipacate with some friends of his. We had not made up our mind if we would stay in Santiago de Atitlan or keep on moving. Nando played some music on the boat and chatted with Carlos most of the 45 minute trip across the lake. Once we got to Santiago de Atitlan, Carlos invited us to have a beer with him.

When we got off the boat in Santiago, several children approached us, offering their trinkets. Tatiana, Soraya, and Raymi were very interested in the colorful bracelets, rings and key chains. We gave the girls five quetzales and let them choose. Turns out Santiago is filled with things to buy. The three blocks that lead from the dock to the main street are lined with vendors, selling brightly colored necklaces, fabrics, and bags. Tempting, but I did not stop to browse.

While chatting with Carlos, we decided that we would accompany them to Sipacate, on the Pacific coast. Santiago was pretty enough, but the algae filled lake is just not the same. Granted, the lake is cleaner in Santiago, but, it is a larger town, and less of the natural wonderland I was seeking.

From Santiago, we took a chicken bus all the way to La Gomera, where we got another bus to Sipacate. Well, that was the original plan. But, the bus driver on the first bus learned of our plans to go to Sipacate and called the driver of another bus headed to Sipacate and asked him to wait for us. We met up at a gas station before the entrance to Sipacate, and were lucky to get good seats on the second bus. It was raining outside, so we were glad to not have to wait for the second bus in the rain. The drivers of the second bus were nice enough to drop us off right in front of the restaurant we planned to eat at in Sipacate, Mary's.

The food at Mary's was delicious. Nando and I shared a generous portion of seafood soup, with fish, shrimp and mussels. The girls shared a huge plate of steak, rice, salad, and tortillas. All that for about US$10. Fully satiated, we headed to our hotel, the Rancho Carrillo.

To get to Rancho Carrillo, you have to take a boat across the river, as the hotel is on the opposite side of a river that separates the town from the beach. We walked to the dock, and were able to find a boatman willing to take us across. When we got to the hotel, it was dark and raining, and only a night watchman was there.

He told us the rooms have a fixed price – Q200 each. We had hoped to bargain, but there was no bargaining with him. When I saw the room, I decided it was a good deal. For $25, we got a nice, clean room with fresh sheets and comfortable beds. I went straight to sleep, anxious to see the place in the light of day.

In the morning, we woke up to find that the hotel was quite impressive – three salt water swimming pools, a play set for kids, and miles of black sand beaches. It was cloudy and drizzling, but warm enough to get in the water. The ocean water is lukewarm. And, although the Pacific coast of Guatemala is known for its strong undercurrents, the beach at Rancho Carrillo was relatively calm.

It was too bad that it was cloudy. However, the beach was beautiful nonetheless. In each direction, you could see nothing but sand and more sand. Behind the beach is thick, green mangrove. And, the black volcanic sand has its own charm.

Overall, I was pleased we decided to go to Rancho Carrillo, even if we could only stay one night, and even if it was cloudy. The girls definitely did not want to leave the beach. But, I had to go back to Guatemala City, so we packed up after lunch and headed back.

We found a bus that went from Sipacate all the way to Guatemala City. It was a slow bus, making all the stops in between. But, it was daytime, and we got to see each of the towns along the way. Overall, with all the stops, the trip took three and a half hours. The bus driver let us off on the main road, just a few blocks from where we are staying in San Jose de Villanueva.

Making the Best of a Sunny Day on Lake Atitlan

On Tuesday, the sun came out all day, and we were able to enjoy Lake Atitlan as best we could, without getting into the water. From San Marcos, we walked down to the lake, and along a path that led through dense forest and near steep cliffs. The views across the lake of several volcanoes and the clear blue sky were astounding. The path we were walking along was quite narrow in parts. Really, the worst that could happen is that you could fall into the water, but that did not seem very appealing.

Lake Atitlan is covered with algae that has turned the crystal clear water a brownish color in most parts. In addition, the smell of untreated waste is strong in some parts. That certainly put a damper on the experience. Most locals seem to think that the problem with the lake is temporary. They point out that it has started to get better, with the wind and cold of the past few days. Others say that a clean-up effort will begin soon and that the lake will be restored to its crystalline self. I hope they are right, but I fear that Lake Atitlan will become the next Lake Amatitlan – a highly polluted, green lake near Guatemala City.

When we finished our short hike, we went back to San Marcos la Laguna, where the kids played on a slightly decrepit metal play set for quite a while. As they played, I sat in the plaza and watched people go by. Most of the residents of San Marcos seem to be either white American or European yoga types or indigenous Guatemalans. Most of the gringos live in fancy concrete structures in the part of the town close to the lake, while the Guatemalans live in humbler houses made of all sorts of materials, on the other side of town, farther from the lake. That said, a few gringos passed by us in the plaza, on their way to the other side of town. A young man at the store told us that the segregation is not complete.

The gringo part of San Marcos is replete with yoga facilities, meditation centers, holistic medicine centers, Reiki centers, and people who frequent those sorts of facilities. I thought about taking a dance class while I was there, but never got around to it.

In the evening, we took the kids to have pizza at the Pizzeria Media Luna. It was half-decent pizza, but the kids never seem to notice pizza quality. After that, Nando and I ate at Paco Real, where we shared a delicious bistec a la veracruzana. We also decided to switch hotels, and stayed at the Paco Real the second night. It was slightly less comfortable than La Posada del Bosque Encantado, but the staff was tremendously more cheerful, and it was a better deal.

On Wednesday morning, Soraya and I woke up early and walked along the lake, admiring all of the gardens and fabulous houses in the gringo part of town, just along the lake. After our walk and a bit of homeschooling, we decided to set out for Santiago de Atitlan. A few people had told us that the water is clearer in that part of the lake, and we wanted to check it out. From San Marcos, we took a moto-taxi to San Pedro, as the boat for Santiago departs from there.

The boat to Santiago is a large vessel, with space for about 60 people. The girls were excited to be on a big boat – one on which they could run around. The trip across the lake was beautiful – with views of volcanoes and the surrounding greenery. On the boat, we met a group of folks who were headed to Sipacate, on the Pacific coast. In Santiago, we had a beer with them as we thought about whether or not we should join them.

I had been looking forward to relaxing in a natural wonderland, and had not quite had that experience in San Marcos. It had its moments, but I was pretty disappointed about not being able to swim or go kayaking in the lake. In Santiago, the water was a bit cleaner, but Santiago is a bigger city, and not as relaxing as I had hoped for. So, we decided to join our newfound friends on their trip to Sipacate. That turned out to be a real adventure.

The “Jewel of Guatemala,” Lago Atitlan, has lost some of its sparkle

This morning, we set out from our home in Villanueva, Guatemala City, headed towards Lake Atitlan, one of the jewels of Guatemala. Lake Atitlan is a huge lake set between volcanoes, renowned for picturesque scenery and colorful traditions. We decided to take a bus from the Trebol, where old schoolbuses make the trek westward. We got a bus that took us to Los Encuentros, where there is a turn-off for Panajachel, one of the larger cities on the lake.

You can get a bus directly to Panajachel, but why do things the easy way. Plus, the bus we found was half empty and we were able to secure a seat near the front. When we got to Los Encuentros, 90 minutes later, it had begun to rain quite heavily. Luckily, there was a bus there that took us to Solola. In Solola, we went to the market where we ate a delicious caldo de gallina – chicken soup. Stomachs full, we got another bus to Panajachel. Just before getting into the city, we got off the bus at the harbor where the boats leave for San Marcos de la Laguna – our chosen lakeside destination.

Just as we were getting to the boat, it began to downpour. We made it inside the small motorboat without getting too wet. Tatiana and Soraya, my eight-year old twins, however, found it great fun to play in the rain at the head of the boat. When the boat took off, they sat down and began to make conversation with the other passengers. Most of the passengers were foreigners, so they spoke to them in English. There were two girls about their age on the boat. They looked on in surprise at how extroverted the twins are. Tatiana and Soraya chatted with the other passengers the whole ride.

About thirty minutes later, we made it to San Marcos. Unfortunately, we couldn’t enjoy the beautiful scenery on the boat ride because of the rain and fog. One of the passengers on the boat showed us where our hotel is – La Posada del Bosque Encantado. When we made it to the hotel, the person who opened the door for us told us the room was going to be Q240. On the phone, she had told me Q160 ($20), so I was a bit disappointed. I had told her on the phone that we had three kids. Seeing them, she decided she had to charge extra for them. She came down to Q200. Still, we decided to look around to see what the other options were. We found one close by for Q100, and another for Q250. In the end, we decided to stay at La Posada.

It is a nice hotel for a family. It has a covered patio and a nice tropical garden. In the room, there are two beds in the main room, and two more in the loft. The rooms have nice earthy decorations, and everything was spotless. With the rain continuing, it was important for us to have a comfortable room. We settled in the room, and found that most of our clothes had gotten wet in the rain and on the boat ride.

I got changed into the dry clothes I could find and Nando went out and got a bottle of wine. Warm and dry, we relaxed and waited for the rain to stop. It didn’t. Soon, we ventured out of the house to get a bite to eat. We found an restaurant that specializes in curry called La Fe. A bit more expensive than we are used to in Guatemala – US$8.00 a plate, we decided to order two plates of curry to begin with. A great decision, because the portions were quite generous. And, the curry was delicious. A bit spicy, but the girls ate it up. After dinner, Nando got out his instruments and played a few songs for the owners and some of the guests. From there, we went to Paco Real, where we met a few other folks and played a bit more music.

By 9 pm, though, we were back at La Posada del Bosque Encantado, ready to sleep. It had been a long, wet day, and I was looking forward to my warm, dry bed. The sun rises early in Guatemala – around 5:30 am, and so do Tatiana and Soraya.

Sure enough, bright and early, the twins were up, and ready to go kayaking on the lake. I told them we could go see the lake, but that we would have to wait until it warmed up to get out on the lake.

When we got to the lake, I was pleased to see that there was nothing but clear, blue skies. The waters of Lake Atitlan, however, were not clear or blue. The jewel of Guatemala has been contaminated by some sort of algae that has turned the lake a brown-green color. It also has somewhat of a foul odor in parts. What a disappointment! Despite the contamination, you still can enjoy gorgeous views of the volcanoes that surround the lake. And, from afar, the waters appear somewhat blue. The girls’ kayaking dreams were dashed. I did not want to get into that water.