<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985</id><updated>2011-07-28T20:05:23.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raw Edge</title><subtitle type='html'>Overseas Adventures. A glimpse into my mind when I'm far away from home.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-9100458209899703005</id><published>2009-09-03T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T05:45:59.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The journey begins</title><content type='html'>Or maybe more like the journey comes to an end. I have started the epic trek back to the northwest. I left Dodoma on a 6 am bus. I am now in Dar staying with Eve's (college roommate) parents. Saturday I will catch a 5:30 am flight to Nairobi and to Amsterdam. I am staying the night in Amsterdam in a christian hostel I found in the city. Then for the last leg I fly out at 10 am and will arrive in Portland at noon. Long way to travel in two hrs...&lt;br /&gt;I think I am ready to head home. Well at this point I'm ready to just be home. I like life in Dodoma. I had an incredible experience and bring home with me many memories, blessings and friendships, but the time has come for the next step. I think I am a lot more ready for life after college than I was walking across the stage four months ago.  I can't explain why. I'm actually excited to be in the working world for a little while. I like Portland. I have a community there. I know the city. I hope this next year or so will be a time to explore these things even more. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your prayers and support during this trip. I would love to share more about my time if anyone is interested. &lt;br /&gt;Please continue to pray for safety as I travel home this weekend, as well as a smooth transition back to life in the states with people there, including securing a job and the next step in education.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-9100458209899703005?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/9100458209899703005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=9100458209899703005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/9100458209899703005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/9100458209899703005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/09/journey-begins.html' title='The journey begins'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-2618582969671856401</id><published>2009-08-21T00:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T00:59:35.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 weeks...</title><content type='html'>Wow I leave Dodoma in a little less than two weeks. Some days drag by but the weeks are flying. I don’t know what I think about coming home. I love life here. I love people here. But to stay I need work. I need to learn Swahili and then I need work. I’m a little bored at the church during the week. I don’t like filling time. And in that sense I am pretty excited to go home. I feel like I have somewhat of a life to get back to. Only a part time job coaching basketball (I need to find a real one if anyone has any connections!), but a city with more life and community of people where I am really comfortable. It is going to be different not being in school. Three of my closest friends have moved out of state, and those that are in town will take more work to see. But I don’t feel finished with life in Portland. Being away made me realize that, I think. More than the city though, there are certain people keeping me there. But then I don’t want this life to be over either. I fear that as soon as I get on that airplane, all of this will only be in my memory and then will slowly slip away like it didn’t even happen. I’m not sure how to capture that emotion in words. It’s another thing that is too hard to really think about. One minute I want to get on an airplane to get out of here now but the next I can’t imagine going back and trying to function in the craziness of the western world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, for now I am trying to focus on just being here and getting the most out of the next two weeks in Dodoma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weekends ago there was a national holiday, Nane Nane, (8-8) on the eighth of august. My understanding is that just because of the date there is a holiday. They also had saba saba, seven-seven. I think nane nane was suppose to be a agricultural celebration of some sort.  I went to a big festival outside of town, close to the first house I lived in. It was nuts. There were tons of people! It was pretty much like a county fair at home but without the rides and really spread out, and well it was still in Africa. There was food and music and ceremonial stuff, people selling clothes, dishes, movies, soap. There were government booths, agricultural booths, non-profit booths, and games. They had animals. Supposedly there was a section with lions and lepers and tortoises but I failed to find it, that’s how big it was.  I walked around people watching, bought some Tanzanian coffee and honey, too pictures of a guy cooking cow intestine and walked some more. I saw one other group of white people, and at some point my friends were there but I couldn’t find them. It was a huge Tanzanian event. I guess the president even came to open it that day. I didn’t take nearly enough pictures to describe it. There aren’t a lot of those festival type things here, or at least that I have seen. Summers in Portland you can find something like this, but smaller, every weekend. In that way it was a cool thing for Dodoma, but too crazy and too many people for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-2618582969671856401?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/2618582969671856401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=2618582969671856401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2618582969671856401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2618582969671856401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/08/2-weeks.html' title='2 weeks...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-8681239222270566981</id><published>2009-08-05T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T01:10:42.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Travel</title><content type='html'>Last week I went on a little get away to Zanzibar, a island off the coast of&lt;br /&gt;Tanzania and Dar. We stayed in the main city, Stonetown, on Zanzibar. It’s was really different. It has interesting architecture with a middle eastern/Indian influence. The city is made up of twisty turning alleyways that you are bound to get lost in. The whole island is pretty unique because of its history, but really touristy. It was super weird to see so many white people and to be with so many tourists... to be a tourist. &lt;br /&gt;Some little highlights. &lt;br /&gt;An interesting spice tour of a small spice plantation, including a spiced lunch &lt;br /&gt;An odd beach trip with a tour group of young brits&lt;br /&gt;I was offered 4 scarves if i slept with a vendor (extremely insulting price actually!!)&lt;br /&gt;Good seafood! I had tuna, prawns, king fish, shark fish, lobster…&lt;br /&gt;Lots of bargaining and gift buying and befriending the vendors in the process&lt;br /&gt;An awful ferry ride back to the mainland: tons of people, smaller boat, no&lt;br /&gt;place to get fresh. I got pretty sick for only the third time in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed the island though and wish we had more time to go elsewhere outside of Stonetown. Being a tourist after living in the county is odd. I enjoy traveling and experiencing new places and learning, but it's weird. I spent more money&lt;br /&gt;this weekend than the average person makes at the church in 3 months. I'm torn&lt;br /&gt;with the desire of simple luxuries. I waste to much water in an upright shower,&lt;br /&gt;but the hot water shower feels amazing. I really love the thought put into ambiance and lighting for the comforts of a room, but now see it as a mark of money, an unnecessary aspect. Things like art and music that are classified as culture come from the upper class, people who have time and money for these luxuries. I too appreciate these things and while it is real life for many Tanzanians, they are a very small portion of the population. It's still too difficult to struggle with. The two worlds can't simultaneously exist in my brain for long. I have to exist in whichever one is present and enjoy what it brings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-8681239222270566981?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/8681239222270566981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=8681239222270566981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/8681239222270566981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/8681239222270566981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-travel.html' title='A Little Travel'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-1362048114683430048</id><published>2009-07-30T13:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T04:27:45.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Say good byes-plus some other tib-bits</title><content type='html'>So many people are leaving! One long term and two short term volunteers from the church have left this month. A long with two other friends who were volunteers through other programs have gone home this month. It’s great to meet so many interesting people, but sad to then have to say good bye. Leah, the other girl here with lahash is also going home, this week. &lt;br /&gt;It is beautiful the emphasis and importance this culture puts on good byes. Perhaps a little annoying how formal and long they are, still have to put that one in there : ). But I really appreciate the time that everyone takes out to show their appreciation and love for a visitor/friend/coworker. When the short term volunteers left, we had a big lunch. There were speeches about how wonderful they were and how much of a blessing their time at the church had been. Emotional for people who had been there for a two weeks. I thought it was great. Another great tradition is the gift of kitanges. I’m sure that’s not spelled right but the huge pieces of fabric that people make into dresses or just wear. Beautiful peaces of fabric. Often times they have saying on them that are important when they are given as gifts. The person being honoured is wrapped in the kitange and then many pictures are taken. Beautiful way to say good bye. &lt;br /&gt;The last week leah’s dinner schedule has been booked! I have been also able to tag a long. Once people realized she was leaving so soon, everyone wanted to have us over for dinner. It was important to people that they had a chance to share a meal with us to show appreciation and properly say good bye. Many of the church workers don’t speak English very well but they still wanted us to be in there homes. It was great to be able to see another side of their lives. I spend so much time with them at church. I have seen their heart to serve the people around them. It’s easy to forget the many of these people working at the church don’t have great living situations either. Some fathers are absent in families, people are sleeping on couches or a family is sharing on room. It has been really fun have a chance to experience that. &lt;br /&gt;Another side note that has come along with Leah leaving—She and I made dinner for our host family, we are living together right now. We made chilli and cheese bread and fruit salad. We feed 16 people! It was epic to cook this meal in Africa! First we had to get everything that we needed in town. Walking all over, first to the market, then to the wazungu shop (white people store), then the spice shop, finally trying to find everything else on the street. After trekking it all home it took us a couple of hours to cut everything up in our hands, open cans with knives, cook everything on a coal stove outside.  It’s pretty different from cooking at home. Throws a little twist in it all. The chilli turned out really good! I think the family enjoyed our effort too to feeding them all. It was difficult to explain to the kids that although this was typical ‘american’ food, it wasn’t what we ate everyday. It’s difficult to explain the variety that most people have in the states. I really enjoyed being able to share that part of my life at home with them though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-1362048114683430048?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/1362048114683430048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=1362048114683430048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1362048114683430048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1362048114683430048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/07/say-good-byes-plus-some-other-tib-bits.html' title='Say good byes-plus some other tib-bits'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-1264874821837034752</id><published>2009-07-30T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T13:26:02.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Formalities</title><content type='html'>People are people and relationships are relationships, but there is something about people’s interactions here that is unlike what I feel at home. People seem more guarded here somehow. It could still be the language barrier that prevents people from letting me in, but still interactions are different. Maybe this is too harsh, but there seems to be a lack of emphasis on the truth and honesty. Perhaps it is just displayed in a different way. Let’s see if I can try to explain this. &lt;br /&gt;For starters at home I get annoyed with the programmed, how are you? I am good responses. If things are rough… a lot of people still say they are good. If times aren’t good, the person asking often doesn’t really want to hear about it. They just want to hear about the good things. I don’t feel this way in all communities at home. I really value the ones where I can say, ‘Things are a little rough.’ And the other person can take it as it is and the conversation doesn’t come to a halt. Any how…all greetings are programmed like that here. I haven’t learned how to say things are ok, or not good. Sometimes if I say I’m tired people don’t know how to respond. You go through the routine, hi how are you? Fine, how is home? Good, how is work? Fine. Greetings are HUGE here. But always routine. Visiting a member of the church in the hospital I saw his wife go through the same thing. I’m good, my husband is fine, he is improving, thank your for you kindness we are fine. Not true!! It was a serious situation and he wasn’t improving initially, she hadn’t slept in three days. Really should have been sleeping rather than entertaining visitors. It doesn’t seem to be acceptable to admit these weaknesses. This is just one example too. &lt;br /&gt;I love the community at the church. They have so much passion and energy. I love them! But the community doesn’t seem very personal. Little things get up out in the open but big struggles are not exposed or even mentioned. Perhaps they are not here, perhaps it’s to difficult to mention them, perhaps I don’t understand. I would expect a community like this to challenge each other more, at work, spiritually, in home lives. They are very close. That is something that I love, but everything always seems so formal and fine. At home close knit communities like this one are much more transparent about what is going on in their lives. Not everywhere for sure. And a different work environment wouldn’t call for that, but in a church that is as close as this one, I’m surprised at that aspect of people’s interaction. &lt;br /&gt;There seems to be no room for constructive criticism either.  Even in the work environment. That is something that I really value. I want an honest assessment of my performance and how to improve it. There are some church leaders that tell us white folks to speak up when we have something so say. They tell us that they want our input, but when input is given, people often get defensive and the information isn’t received. On the other side, I want to be helpful and useful. There must be ways that I can do better or help out more, but whenever I ask they respond with unprecedented praise. &lt;br /&gt;Something that I can’t quite get my head around. Not that there has to be a reason why. It’s interesting the subtle differences you learn working and living with people for an extended period of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-1264874821837034752?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/1264874821837034752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=1264874821837034752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1264874821837034752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1264874821837034752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/07/formalities.html' title='Formalities'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-222583204078316548</id><published>2009-07-20T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T06:14:11.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More photos</title><content type='html'>I added some more photos to the first album I made. The same link should work but here it is again. &lt;br /&gt;Enjoy! and I'll have another post soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2036011&amp;id=31601659&amp;l=50fa4e693f&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-222583204078316548?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/222583204078316548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=222583204078316548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/222583204078316548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/222583204078316548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/07/more-photos.html' title='More photos'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-6903387182065434821</id><published>2009-07-16T01:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T01:40:41.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a little update</title><content type='html'>I haven’t posted in a while. Things were busy…and then I didn’t feel like writing. Sorry to all. Let’s see if I can recap some of the last three weeks. &lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am settling into life here. Fewer things are new so fewer things to report. There are still plenty of things that I sit and wonder about. Things that confuse me and frustrate me, but I’ve been here long enough that even the thoughts seem to be cycling through. &lt;br /&gt;Bible Camping&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago we took the older Lahash, Compassion, and a lot of the youth from the church to a seminary outside of Dodoma in an area called Msalato.  We spent three days in classes, singing, and playing games and eating. A lot of the time was spent in classes covering both biblical lessons and health related lessons such as HIV education, growth and development, and trauma healing. It was a lot of sitting for me. I have a hard time sitting for that long. The kids really seemed to enjoy themselves though. I think it’s more typical of a Tanzanian camp. I think it was really good for the kids to be in a different environment with there peers and even eating three meals a day.  &lt;br /&gt;Wazungu time &lt;br /&gt;I’ve been spending some time with some other white folks in town. At first I was hesitant to hang out with them because that isn’t what I’m here for. Not that socializing is a bad thing but I’m here to learn about Tanzania and the culture and people who live here.  It has been really fulfilling though to hang out with other people. I am more fed by that community and spiritually and emotionally encouraged. It’s relaxing to be able to get away and spend some time with people who have similar interests and cultural back grounds. Little things like being on our own schedule and wanting to go do something or play games rather than just sit around and watch tv. The people I’ve met are pretty cool too. It’s always fun to hear people’s stories. And seems like people also serving in a third world country have some similar stories. It is always good to have fellowship. I’m torn though. There does need to be a balance. I realize the value of having and escape and having people to process things with, but I also need to keep learning and figuring things out for myself. I still need to spend time with the family and play with kids at church.  &lt;br /&gt;Safari&lt;br /&gt;I went on safari last Saturday. It was just a one day stint rather than the week long trip that was originally planned. I went with three friends here I’ve met that are from the US, a german woman who was visiting the building hospital for a four of weeks and a swiss guy who was volunteering with the mission airlines for a couple of weeks. We made a good group. We chartered a plane to go to a big park south of Dodoma. It was only a 45 min flight and the pilot was really good. The park was great. Weird to be spending so much money and doing something so touristy, but I had to just try to let that go and enjoy the experience. We saw just about everything. Elephants, giraffes, lions, wild bores, zibras, crocodiles, hippos, lots of antelope things…different kinds don’t remember all the names, all kinds of different birds. We didn’t see cheetahs, rinos, or hyenas but saw just about everything else. It was pretty neat to see the animals in the wild rather than in a small space at the zoo. I wish we could have stayed longer. It was a lot to see in one day. Too much driving I think. I would have liked to have sat and watched the animals for a while. I am really grateful for the opportunity though. That was my chance, and I loved it.  We had a really nice lunch. I had three cups of coffee. It was so good I just couldn’t stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll try to get a better story for my next post. And I’ll try to make it before the next three weeks is over. And I’m working on getting some more pictures up soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-6903387182065434821?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/6903387182065434821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=6903387182065434821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/6903387182065434821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/6903387182065434821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-little-update.html' title='Just a little update'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-1127797162690368065</id><published>2009-06-29T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T06:44:33.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>photos</title><content type='html'>I also uploaded some photos on facebook. that seemed easiest. I think everyone should be able to use this link. &lt;br /&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2036011&amp;id=31601659&amp;l=50fa4e693f&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-1127797162690368065?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/1127797162690368065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=1127797162690368065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1127797162690368065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1127797162690368065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/photos.html' title='photos'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-7080540559665540202</id><published>2009-06-29T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T06:39:13.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New house, new family, new outlook</title><content type='html'>I have a new place to live for the week…well last week. This update is a little old. Big changes going from living far away with few people ages ranging from 17 to 27, having lots of time and space to myself, with only ok English to living in the city with tons of people ages ranging 7 to about 80, sharing a room, and having people speaking fluently in English. I was getting kind of lonely out in kisasa by myself. At first having so much time to myself was just what I needed but then it became not as much of a good thing when I started to think too much and miss home too much.  It was perfect timing…just like god knew what I needed : ). Now with so many people in the house there is always something going on. The kids always want to play. And I have no space to myself at all, but there are people I can have a real conversation with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m staying at the bishop’s house for a week. There are 11 people sleeping here most nights and his wife is in Dar and their daughter is at school. So many people! There’s Peace who is 7 then Grace who is 12, a little bossy and doesn’t like to lose games… then Victor is 13 I think. He has some good insight on the world for a 13 year old. All the kids are really smart.  And then Kabiro is the bishop’s nephew that lives with them. He’s 20 and really great. Then Shangwe is a girl that lives with them. I think she’s 20 something. She does the cooking and the cleaning. She is really close to the girls, pretty much like family, but then also the maid. Then both grandmothers are living here too. Neither speaks english. They are/were sick and are healing at their home until someone can take them back. They also have an older daughter who is going to school somewhere else. And the amos and esther. Wow! Oh and there is a girl staying, sharing a room with me. Sad that I don’t have my own room. I don’t have a space at that house at all to go hide away in. She is some bishops daughter, first was just passing through now maybe staying for 3 months. Not sure. She doesn’t speak very good English. She sleeps on the floor on a mattress. She seems to keep to herself…but I can’t have a conversation with her.  She doesn’t really talk with anyone else in the family either. Haven’t quite figured that situation out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are fun. Good distractions. I’m not lonely…well in the same way. They love games. The first night I was here I showed them my card trick. It’s a pretty good one. Victor kind of picked up on it. Once I showed him, he mastered the presentation. I was proud! And we play phase 10, set, crazy 8s, kings in the corner. It’s great. If you know me… I LOVE card games. The other fun thing is that I’ve been doing exercises with the kids. Mostly the two girls.  I’ve been trying to do push ups and sit ups just to do something physical with my body. I was trying to hide in my room one day to do them and Peace found me. I asked if she wanted to join…so she and grace did. We’ve done them everyday since. I guess that’s not something I thought of bringing here. Something that is so inate in me. I didn’t think anyone else would be interested. Since then I did a little stretching session with the little lahash kids. I didn’t have a translator so it was a do as I say kind of a thing. I enjoyed it. And Grace showed a bunch of her friends at the church on Saturday. That was fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Bible camping starts tomorrow. I hope it goes well. I’m helping teach and HIV lesson as well as games and crafts. Should be fun. There are lots of ages going. A change of pace from the normal routine is always exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-7080540559665540202?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/7080540559665540202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=7080540559665540202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/7080540559665540202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/7080540559665540202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-house-new-family-new-outlook.html' title='New house, new family, new outlook'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-1521231948479141242</id><published>2009-06-20T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T07:42:44.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not sure what to think</title><content type='html'>I finished the first package of malaria pills. That means I’ve been gone for two weeks. The first one dragged by, but the second one was lightening speed in comparison. It’s nice to be in more of a routine and know kind of what to expect out of each day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week we went on home visits to the houses of the Lahash sponsored kids. Lahash, the organization based in Portland that I came with, has a child sponsorship program that people donate money to support about 70 children in the area. The money goes to pay for schooling, uniforms, books as well as some food and other supplies. I’m not sure how often the home visits happen, but we went tow days this week and I think the same will happen next week. We went on foot and in two days we probably visited 10-12 kids at maybe 10 different homes. The visits are to make sure that the money is going to the right things and they are getting food and have a bed. We would talk with the parents and the kids. Really really hard. There are just so many awful stories to hear of people’s lives. And they just keep coming, one horrible story after another. I’m not sure what to think about it. I’m not even sure how to process it. I’m not sure I can…or really want to. I just feel numb. I my heart should be breaking over the poverty, but I’m not. It should cause have the desire to help or create change, that it should make me want to change the way I live my life, but I don’t really feel at all.  I think it’s just too much. I don’t even really want to try to process it. I feel helpless. What can I do to REALLY help? It’s so complicated…so complicated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that’s what I’m here for is to figure out how programs like this work. So far I’ve been impressed with the services that they provide, and mostly the way that they go about providing them. I think the westerner in me would want things to be more organized and consistent, but that doesn’t seem to be the way things work here. I don’t even know where to start but it has to be better to do something rather than nothing right? I just don’t know how to feel about it. The existence of poverty, and trying to change it. The standard response is that through the broken world can we best see God’s love and grace and mercy poured out. But why are there some people like me that have the job to go out and show the love by helping and by being there, while there are others that have to live the life of pain and brokenness. My worries are so little, yet they are my worries. Why do I get to live the life I do when there are millions of people who can’t even comprehend what I have. How should that impact me? How will that change the way I live. I don’t really want to give up everything. I’m weak. I feel like it should change me or inspire something in me but I just feel numb. I almost don’t want to feel it. I don’t know that I could handle it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just trying to think that through is so exhausting. It just goes in circles. I don’t know even really want to address it ever. I just want to be in my own world. I just want to curl up and read and be in a different world. But that’s what I’m here for. I just don’t know how to do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-1521231948479141242?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/1521231948479141242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=1521231948479141242' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1521231948479141242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1521231948479141242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/not-sure-what-to-think.html' title='Not sure what to think'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-4428508646552164032</id><published>2009-06-16T07:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T07:27:36.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning the Language</title><content type='html'>I’ve been trying my best to learn as much Swahli as I can. I definitely wish that I had been better at trying to learn before I came, but life was pretty crazy before I left and it has been fine to learn here. I knew some basic things and a little about the structure of the language which was helpful. I don’t think anyone expected that I knew anything coming in. Even now when I try to practice what I know people are surprised and ask how I know Swahili. English is pretty widely spoken here. I think because of the English colonization in East Africa, and then of course the influence of the US domination of the world. High school age I think it all taught in English. &lt;br /&gt;It’s kind of fun trying to learn. It’s great because people are really willing to help. People get excited when I say anything in Swahili and appreciate that I try I think. That definitely makes learning worth while. My host family is great about teaching me too. I usually ask what words are 5 or 6 time and sometimes still don’t remember.  &lt;br /&gt;I can remember lot of greetings and respond to them. There are so many greetings! You can’t spend too long greeting everyone. I’ve got ‘what is your name?’ and ‘where are you from’ down. I think I understand the verbs I trying to learn some important ones, to go, to wash and to eat. I know a lot of other random words. &lt;br /&gt;Of course what comes with learning the language are always mistakes. Good thing I stick out and people assume that I don’t speak Swahili I guess. It’s embarrassing, but if I can get laughs it’s easier to brush off the mistakes. &lt;br /&gt;I was in the market one of the first days I was here and was in the way of someone moving a table. I meant to apologize as I got out of the way. So, pole means sorry, that’s what I meant to say, but instead I said poa…which means cool. Oops. I realized right away and tried to correct myself but couldn’t remember the right word. I could hear them laughing about it as they passed. Oh well. Also the other day at the church someone gave me a greeting of respect, ‘shikamo.’ This is something you usually say to someone older than you, but I was younger than this guy. He was just trying to be nice and to welcome me. In response you are suppose to say ‘marihaba,’ which gives respect in return. Instead I said ‘nimashiba’ which mean I’m full. They laughed pretty hard but then corrected me so I guess its ok. &lt;br /&gt;I’ll keep trying to learn. I don’t know how far I can get in 3 months but might as well give it what I’ve got. It would be great to be able to talk to someone who doesn’t speak English and have some actual communication…even if it’s not clear and awkward. As this point I can’t get much across. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please continue to pray for my adjustment to living here. That I can find rest and comfort in the Lord and that the language continues to come along. Also that I will serve in a purposeful way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-4428508646552164032?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/4428508646552164032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=4428508646552164032' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4428508646552164032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4428508646552164032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/learning-language.html' title='Learning the Language'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-7472100278521011961</id><published>2009-06-11T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T06:33:40.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Address and phone!!</title><content type='html'>I got a phone. It wasn’t too bad. I tried to use my old phone from home but it wasn’t unlocked to other providers. It’s kind of spendy to call the US but I guess you can skype or buy international phone cards for fairly cheep. I’d love to hear from anyone!! The best times are probably afternoon and evening for me…10 hrs ahead from most of you. &lt;br /&gt;Number is 255-789-770-282        255 is the TZ country number&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have an address I share it with the whole church. I hear it takes about 2 weeks to send something. If you do send something let me know about when it should arrive so I can get the box checked. I guess it doesn’t get checked very often. &lt;br /&gt;If anyone does end up sending anything!! I have requests for hand sanitizer and floss. forgot to bring enough of both of those...i'm going to run out of hand sanitizer fast...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily Deichsel &lt;br /&gt;Grace &amp; Healing Ministry&lt;br /&gt;PO Box 3230&lt;br /&gt;Dodoma, Tanzania&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Happy Birthday Mom!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-7472100278521011961?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/7472100278521011961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=7472100278521011961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/7472100278521011961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/7472100278521011961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/address-and-phone.html' title='Address and phone!!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-4780698188462175304</id><published>2009-06-11T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T06:31:42.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Dodoma home</title><content type='html'>So much to say! Ah ok. So I’m at my host family’s home. It’s small but pretty nice. I have my own room…I think that means that Oliva is sleeping on the couch…that doesn’t make me feel very good. So I’m staying with Mariam who is about 6 months pregnant I think. Her husband…the name didn’t stick. So many names to remember. I’ll get back to you on that one. I do know he is a police officer and also teaches at the church as part of a program to stop crime at an earlier age. Mairam works at the church. Oliva is Mariam’s niece  I think… She seems to do the house work. She either knows less English or is less willing to talk. I’ll have to work on her. She already calls me her sister though. I had a great two evenings with them. I’ve been pretty tired once I get home, but we just hang out talk eat and then go to bed. I was worried about it but I’ve had fun staying here. Mariam has a great laugh and me not knowing things or being awkward makes her laugh so that feels good : ) It is a really far from town, which makes it hard to hang out with people at night. I’m ok with that for now. There is a lot to enjoy staying here with the family. But I think as time goes I’m going to need that community and support. I’ll see how it goes. &lt;br /&gt;So I went to the market with Mariam on the way home the first day. There were huge piles of dried fish for sale. Sardine I guess. Didn’t look appetizing. First we got potatoes and then Mariam asked what kind of food I liked.  I didn’t know how to respond. Lots of different kinds. We ended up at the butcher. Oh she meant what kind of meat… a hard one because I’m picky and really don’t like a lot of meat.  Didn’t say anything. The butcher puts a hears on the scale…my stomach dropped to my feet, then he cuts a huge chunk of liver off and adds it to the scale.  I think she could see it on my face. I was a little frightened. I just told her I hadn’t ever eaten any of those things before and that at home I didn’t eat a lot of meat. She was thinking then, and I reassured her that it would be ok I would try it. I think the alternative was to buy beef especially for me and I know that this heart and liver was a special treat for the guest already. So we proceeded on our way to get some veggies which I enjoyed. Well my brother got his wish. I talked to him when I first arrived in Dar and the only thing he told me was to eat something I wouldn’t normally eat. At that point I had eaten a processed beef patty…but I’ m guessing this is more a long the lines of what he had in mind. So I ate liver. I wasn’t really all that bad, but I didn’t enjoy it. Really dense I guess is the best way to describe it. I know it’s not that odd…people in the US eat it, but for me it’s out there. I think it upset my stomach a little bit. I didn’t eat it again when it was served tonight. I hope that is ok. I think it’s pretty expensive. I told myself initially I would just eat the meet to be polite, but if that’s what upset my stomach I really just want to pass. For someone who doesn’t eat very much meat and no red meat, liver might have been a little much. &lt;br /&gt;I’ll have to take and post a picture of the toilet….ceramic hole in the ground. I’m getting use to it…but still am not sure how to keep from splashing. Tanzanians don’t use toilet paper. I’ll have to keep my own supply. They bought some for me in the bathroom at home, but I’m pretty sure no one uses it but me. I hope its ok that I do. I’ll buy it but that’s something I’d like to continue.&lt;br /&gt;The time change is just hitting me. Maybe in combination with not feeling well yesterday, but I was so exhausted. I guess traveling I slept so much during the day on planes and buses, it made up for not sleeping through the night. I can usually fall asleep but I wake up in like 4 hrs lay in bed and then wake up every hour after that. I think I’ve heard one day for every hr difference. This is night 5 so my body might still take some more time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-4780698188462175304?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/4780698188462175304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=4780698188462175304' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4780698188462175304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4780698188462175304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-first-dodoma-home.html' title='My first Dodoma home'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-716612911675421172</id><published>2009-06-09T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T05:38:00.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dodoma at last</title><content type='html'>I arrived in Dodoma last night. I stayed in a guest house and will go to my host family today. This morning I slept in and then went to the church. Met a bunch of people. I've got to pick up on the swahili fast! A lot of people speak some english.&lt;br /&gt;I found an internet cafe..well Leah showed me a good one. Not sure I could find it myself yet but I'll get there. At least i have her to show me around for now. &lt;br /&gt;Well I'll write more soon but I'm running out of time. Just want to let everyone know I arrived and am tired but well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-716612911675421172?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/716612911675421172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=716612911675421172' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/716612911675421172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/716612911675421172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/dodoma-at-last.html' title='Dodoma at last'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-1091139529555040955</id><published>2009-06-07T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T12:42:46.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dar es Salaam</title><content type='html'>So at the end of day two I'm in Tanzania!! I'm staying with Eve's parents. They have a great place. It is so good to see them as well. It was great to be able to spend the night in Nairobi. Edmond and Christine were great hosts. I've been blessed with such generous loving people in my life.&lt;br /&gt;A short little flight to Dar and i made it with all of my baggage. There was a little complication where one of my bags didn't get checked all of the way through to Dar, but it was sorted out in Nairobi and made it here. It's hotter here than in Nairobi. Maybe it won't be so humid when we go in land more. Tomorrow at 2 I get on the bus for the last leg. I hear it's about a 6 hr bus ride to Dodoma. I shouldn't have much trouble sleeping..i haven't on every plane ride so far.  &lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to see mosquitoes. bring on the bug spray  &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for prayers. Please continue to pray for me as a settle into the culture and language.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-1091139529555040955?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/1091139529555040955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=1091139529555040955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1091139529555040955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1091139529555040955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/dar-es-salaam.html' title='Dar es Salaam'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-2754755680701895166</id><published>2009-06-05T23:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T23:25:48.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanzania!</title><content type='html'>I am off!! I am sitting in the airplane about 30,000 feet in the air. I can look out my window and see I caps of the arctic. Not exactly the landscape I’m headed towards but incredible none the least. We flew over the Rockies too earlier. Part of my heart tells me I belong in those mountains. &lt;br /&gt;I don’t have anyone sitting next to me on the plane…no one to chat with but my long legs are pleased to have the extra leg room. My first flight is ten and a half hours from Portland to Amsterdam, followed by a seven and a half hour flight to Nairobi. I have a 20 hour layover in Kenya so Dan, from Lahash, set me up with some people that live in Nairobi who are gracious enough to let me stay at their place and tour me around Nairobi a bit. Then the final stretch is a little not even two hour flight to Dar es Saalam. After I night in Dar with my college roommate Eve’s parents I’ll set out to travel the final 300 miles to Dodoma by bus. So calculate this up, leaving Portland noon on June 5th, arriving in Dodoma evening of June 8th! Even with the 10 hour time difference that’s a long time to travel. I think I’m 5 hours into it now. &lt;br /&gt;Please keep me in your prayers for safe travel and that I will search support and direction from the Lord as I adjust to life in Tanzania. &lt;br /&gt;More soon I hope&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-2754755680701895166?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/2754755680701895166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=2754755680701895166' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2754755680701895166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2754755680701895166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/06/tanzania.html' title='Tanzania!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-2802962679227044661</id><published>2009-03-08T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T00:24:10.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer in Tanzania</title><content type='html'>I will be graduating from Lewis &amp; Clark College in Portland this May with a bachelor of arts in Chemistry, an appreciation for God’s brilliant diversity and a desire to see change in this world. God used my experiences at a liberal school to strengthen my personal relationship with Him and spark my passion to love His human creation. &lt;br /&gt;Over the last four years I have developed a heart for the vulnerable. I am interested in serving those infected and affected b HIV/AIDS. This biologically fascinating disease is a puzzle that has yet to be solved. HIV/AIDS killed an estimated 2.1 million people world wide in 2007. Over three quarters of these deaths occurred in sub-Saharan Africa. As research continues in attempt to develop a vaccine or cure for HIV/AIDS, treatment in these areas cannot be ignored. &lt;br /&gt;As I pursue a medical degree and a masters in public health after Lewis &amp; Clark, I desire to provide holistic care to poverty stricken communities. This summer with Lahash International I look forward to continuing my journey learning about practical and situational treatment of this disease. With Grace and Healing Ministry, I will serve the spiritual, physical, emotional educational and environmental issues affecting the vulnerable in a community in the capital city of Tanzania.&lt;br /&gt;I am encouraged as I become a partner of Lahash International.  Over the years God has increased my desire to serve the vulnerable and the needy. Now I am provided with this opportunity to explore this passion in a way that also pursues my interest in international public health care.   I will work with Grace and Healing Ministry in Dodoma, the capital of Tanzania. I will live in the community for 3 months providing physical, spiritual and emotional care. I am eager to for this journey of new experiences, but I know that it is not something I can do alone.  Please consider partnering with me to bring care to Dodoma.&lt;br /&gt;Keep in contact&lt;br /&gt;emilyd@lclark.edu&lt;br /&gt;Learn more about Lahash International&lt;br /&gt;www.lahash.net&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-2802962679227044661?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/2802962679227044661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=2802962679227044661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2802962679227044661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2802962679227044661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2009/03/summer-in-tanzania.html' title='Summer in Tanzania'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-5016861926391375925</id><published>2007-12-06T12:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T12:14:55.644-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La Cumbre</title><content type='html'>The mountains above the valley of Santiago are home to the largest system of amber mines in the world. It was the setting, and supposedly inspiration for the movie Jurassic Park to give you an idea of the scenery. Last weekend we took a trip up to see the amber mines and a coffee farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going up into the mountains takes you to a different world. The roads still have potholes and the people all speak Spanish but it is lush and green and beautiful. A get away from the city is so easy and so refreshing. It was so needed. From such an…well not so pretty city, to amazingly beautiful country side, it is easy to be taken back. The weather was cool (cool being the perfect 75 degrees at mid-day) and there was a breeze. The irregularly peaked mountains are covered with tropical greenery.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked a little ways on some really muddy trails to get to some small independent mines. The walk down hill in the mud was an even in itself. We had planned on going to a much bigger impressive site but it is still filled in with water from Tropical Storm Noel. Still at this smaller site we saw 3 or 4 different mine entries. The workers took a break so we could one by one climb down in to them. One by one because that was all that would fit. It was so incredible small. You crawl in on your stomach with a candle for your only light source. There isn’t even enough room to get onto your hands and knees. We could see how it turns and goes even deeper. I could hear someone working what sounded like a ways away working with a pick. I can not imagine working like that. The guys work every day and only get paid if they find amber. Crazy. We got to see several raw chunks of amber. It was beautiful and impressive. Some even has preserved fossils, usually branches or mosquitoes. Amber takes thousands of years to form and Dominican amber is the youngest found in the world. I wish I remembered the exact numbers but it’s the youngest at something like 28,000 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the amber mine we went to a coffee farm located on one of Trujillo’s (an old brutal Dominican dictators) old estates. I don’t think I’ve ever seen coffee plans before. You can eat the fruit that is around the coffee bean. Always good to go back to the roots of how something you use/eat/drink everyday comes into your hands the way it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a quick day trip with some friends out of the city. It was a needed get away as we move into finals. Two very Dominican products, coffee and amber.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-5016861926391375925?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/5016861926391375925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=5016861926391375925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/5016861926391375925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/5016861926391375925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/12/la-cumbre.html' title='La Cumbre'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-2761991700801354785</id><published>2007-11-27T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T06:11:57.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A new home in Santiago</title><content type='html'>I have been volunteering in a local public hospital in Santiago through one of my classes. The class and service project kind of turned into a joke. But I am grateful that it got me into this hospital. Public hospitals here aren’t the same. Only the people with out money are patients here. The comparison to the privet hospitals is incredible. Learning about a public health system that is drastically different from a privet one has been valuable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really frustrating tying to find a way to help a program that didn’t really need it. It took a while but I finally got over the fact that I wasn’t going to be doing much service here so I should at least get something out of the experience for my self. After a long series of areas and people I stumbled upon brain surgery!! It was so cool. I had scrubs and so I was allowed to just go in and watch. There was a steady flow of students coming in and out of the room the whole time. They were removing a reoccurring tumor and I was right in there. The music play list for that day included some Savage Garden from middle school and shaggy. It was a really relaxed atmosphere; the doctor was singing and dancing. They were really good about explaining what they were doing and stopping so that people could get a good look. I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then I have been back 5 times. I’ve seen tumor removal brain surgery, thoracic surgery where they were putting in a chest tube, and orthopedic surgery. At first I was going by myself but now there is another girl who accompanies me. We are so comfortable there now. Some of the doctors even know us. We show up changed into our scrubs and choose a door. If that one doesn’t seem very interesting we just head out and find another. It is so much fun. There are lots of other students doing the same, so the doctors are use to it. The thing is, we really stick out. Erin, the other girl, is beautiful blond and blue eyed, I am a foot taller than all of the other women there, and we are white. Out of all the students in the room we end up having conversations with the doctors. This has ended up with phone numbers at the end of the surgery, the Dominican way, and jokes about me with the midget anesthesiologist. If we had known how to do stitches we would have been the ones sewing up the guy with the chest tube. Unfortunately I only have experience once on a rat and didn’t have the guts to pretend otherwise. I have no reserves about jumping in there and asking questions, and if I still don’t explain having them try again. I feel like I have found a new home in Santiago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not doing community service but hey I got to see brain surgery, more than once!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-2761991700801354785?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/2761991700801354785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=2761991700801354785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2761991700801354785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/2761991700801354785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-home-in-santiago.html' title='A new home in Santiago'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-395949226891910277</id><published>2007-11-13T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:14:10.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La Capital</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RzoFevXbJxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6exkk2E-GW0/s1600-h/La+Capital+096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132420751011030802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RzoFevXbJxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6exkk2E-GW0/s320/La+Capital+096.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The whole study abroad group went on an excursion to Santo Domingo, the capital and only other city bigger than Santiago. It was another trip that was already paid for. We stayed in a very nice hotel in La Zona Colonial of downtown, ate lots and well.&lt;br /&gt;We didn’t arrive until the evening of Friday so didn’t so much besides a nice dinner all together. We were told semi-formal and probably still were only dressed like Dominicans would dress for a casual dinner or just for out and about during the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we got to know the city a little bit. It is by for the grander city between Santo Domingo and Santiago, it is much much larger, has more history and more of a city feel. I feel like Santiago is kind of like Longview but on a bigger scale. There are a fair number of people but it doesn’t really feel like it. Santiago doesn’t have much to do really, not a lot of sites and so not a lot of tourists. In some sense I really like that. Things are cheaper; it’s not as hard to convince people that you live here. Santo Domingo is more what I was expecting though. It has a big city feel. It is set right on the sea. There not really beach front but there is a long board walk called the Malecon where people hang out. The ocean is the ocean to me. It makes my heart flutter in awe, even if it crashes on destroyed cement barriers. I think it will always be a comfort to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I could go on and on just about the ocean that most people wouldn’t say was that impressive. I’ll just leave it at that we bonded, that coast line and I. We did some shopping first at a young artisan’s shop, then later in the afternoon we went to Marcado Modelo. Marcado Modelo this huge market of souvenirs. They don’t have anything like this in Santiago. It was in large building and the vendors had little areas/stands. They all basically sold the same things, art, jewelry, wood work, cigars. I did some good bargaining but wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the pushy vendors. So I just ventured outside and walked around the city some more. It just has a different feel than Santiago. I guess most cities do. I didn’t stick out as much, but was more clearly treated as a tourist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier in the morning we went to Los Tres Ojos. A big tourist attraction but it was incredible and then later a little depressing, but incredible. There are these caves that have fresh water in them. There are three lakes tucked away in the corners of this cave. The cave just is a huge hole in the ground. The water was beautiful and clear. There were fish and turtles in them too, completely isolated. We took a rope pull little fiery through one of the caves and came out at another circular pond boarded with 80 foot vertical walls opening up to out side. This one supposedly has a crocodile. As we were there gazing at the beauty someone through a bag of trash into the lake. That is something that I can’t understand. There will always be the people who think it’s cool to destroy property or defy the norms but I believe people here really don’t feel guilty about it. Some people don’t understand how beneficial trashcans are for aesthetics and smell and health. Let alone preserving a treasure like these caves. I could go on a whole rant but there are more exciting things in the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night we all got dressed up for a formal dinner in a cave. It was great. Everyone looked so nice. It is always fun to get dressed up for a special occasion. And it was down in a cave!! The first course was piña coladas served in coconuts. While I don’t really like coconut flavoring the meat in fresh coconut is good. So in a fancy dress with my hair done and make up on…I was still Emily. I took the knife and fork and started digging at the coconut to harvest the meat. Our whole end of the table was working on it. It was great. I know I know you can’t take me any where. The funny part was, later after the first bread course, the water brings out two plates of cooked coconut. Just imagine the water going back to the kitchen. “We’ve got a problem these US girls are trying to cut open the coconuts and are making a mess.” Rest of the dinner was pleasant and amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got back to the hotel pretty late and the lights are on in our room. That’s weird I’m pretty sure we turned them all off. The receptionist soon greets us at the door to tell Erin and me that we had to change rooms, something about the sink. Well the sink had exploded. The bathroom was soaked with water, I mean drenched. The trashcan was full to the brim, water on the mirror above the sink, towels hung up…soaked. My stuff on the other side of the room from the bathroom that was sitting on the floor was wet. Thank goodness that it wasn’t much. All of Erin’s stuff was on the bed and most of mine was on the dresser. The receptionist later told us that they discovered it because water was pouring out from under our door and cascading over the balcony into the lobby of the hotel. Nothing was ruined, the only thing wet was clothing; we thought it was hilarious. There had to have been so much water in that room considering the condition we found it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was more relaxed we had a tour of la Zona Colonial. They have ruins of the first church (that’s the picture above), hospital and university of the new world. It feels so European, so different. I hope that I will have the chance to go back and spend more time in the city. I want to just walk and wonder with my book and my camera. I wish that I had visited before the last month, but at least I still have the opportunity to go back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-395949226891910277?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/395949226891910277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=395949226891910277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/395949226891910277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/395949226891910277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/11/la-capital.html' title='La Capital'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RzoFevXbJxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6exkk2E-GW0/s72-c/La+Capital+096.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-5539206942671873832</id><published>2007-10-31T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T07:39:25.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Racism~Noticias Continued</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ok first of all one of the classes I am taking is Dominican Haitian Relations. Although it hasn’t turned out to be as good of a class as I had hoped, I have learned a lot about the history of this island and the two countries that share it. This is in hopes that I can try to even begin to understand to unique situation of two drastically different cultures and countries sharing such a small island. It has been explained to us that we will not understand but this is the best way to start. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A frequent topic of discussion is the idea of race and skin color in this country. Officially the country does not identify different races (and therefore cannot have problems with racism). However the do very clearly identify skin color. There has been a history of leaders, namely &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Trujillo&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, trying the “whiten” the Dominican race. There is clearly a preference to lighter skin colors. Especially with the rich white image of North Americans. Well maybe not so clear. The Dominicans deny that this is true. The students in this class (majority from the states), me included have a hard time believing this. It seems that we are more sensitive to discrimination because of looks or background, probably because it has been beaten into us in the education system because of our history.&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The UN began investigating the claims of racism in the country this last weekend. I had a really good conversation with my host parents the other night after seeing this on the news. It seems so obvious to me that it exists here and there is a problem. There were several girls in my group with dark skin, that have been denied into clubs until a white or someone with lighter skin entered with they and it was clear that they were from the US. My host parents flat out do not believe that racism is a problem here. It seems so black and white but is there a way that we can both be partly right?&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe it is the word ‘racism’. It seems sometimes that we use it interchangeable for discrimination, sometimes based on race or culture or even a unique situation. They can’t deny that there is discrimination against Haitians here, but they think that it is racism but because of the situation. I think racism to them is the situation of African American slaves in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; after slavery was abolished. The slaves came to the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;New World&lt;/st1:place&gt; and US by force not by choice. ‘Racism’ is what ensued after that, the assimilation of the freed slaves into the culture. I can’t explain it much more than that because I don’t really understand it. Only that the situation is different now, and here. What I don’t think they understand is that racism has evolved with the times. The &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; definitely still has its problems with racism but not in the same way as during the civil rights movement or before. Now the major problem is with immigrants, a trickier situation. Without really getting into illegal immigration, I consider the generalizations that are made about all Hispanics or all the Mexicans come to this country illegally and deal drugs and create violence and take our jobs, racism. They felt it living in the NY for 10 years legally. I’m not equating it as the same but a similar situation here in the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;island&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; of &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Hispaniola&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, they consider is not racism. The Haitians don’t respect the Dominican culture and they take jobs and just are looking for health care. I can understand the frustration when you lemon tree gets damaged because someone doesn’t know the proper way to pick a lemon. I can understand that the DR shouldn’t have the responsibility to take care of the neighboring country in drastically worse conditions than it’s self. But what I can’t understand are the other generalizations that I hear, even from my host parents in this conversation that the Haitians are all poor, smell, are hungry, don’t have homes, or jobs. My host dad even repeatedly used the work animal to describe them (granted both his wife and I let him have it for that one). There probably are people in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; that think that is the same as the DR. There is a lot of poverty here, many people are hungry and live without homes or jobs. Well I could go on. It was an interesting and insightful conversation and I was really pleased with my ability to get my point across in Spanish. Unfortunately not a resolvable topic. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;These are my thoughts. I have been confronted with so many &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; cultural things here that I have to take a step back and really look at why I think I am right or my way is better, because sometimes I am wrong. Maybe the language is not right or the fact that their culture is more upfront and blunt, maybe it is the tricky situation, but there is evident violence and discrimination in this country that needs to be examined.&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;They side note is that last Friday I went a huge market at the Haitian boarder with this class, a location of many UN peacekeeping troops; and where the UN investigation began. They open the border every Monday and Friday for this market in Dajabon, the Dominican city. Lots of Haitians cross the boarder to buy and cell goods, things from new and used clothes, shoes, bags, toiletries, tupperware and dishes. There are Dominican vendors too but the merchandise is generally different. They usually cell food, fresh fruits and vegetables, meat, flour, rice beans, and bulk packaged juices, milk, and crackers. The physical border between Dominican and Haitians.&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-5539206942671873832?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/5539206942671873832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=5539206942671873832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/5539206942671873832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/5539206942671873832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/10/racismnoticias-continued.html' title='Racism~Noticias Continued'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-4520979949892993192</id><published>2007-10-31T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T12:01:36.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La República Dominicana en los noticias.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The DR has been in the news quite a bit this week. First the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Caribbean&lt;/st1:place&gt; was hit with a tropical rain storm. The heart of it passed over the south of the DR through the west of the island mostly in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Haiti&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. The entire island has had rain for 5 days now. It rained nonstop from Sunday evening to Tuesday afternoon, and then only paused for a few hours before beginning again. For a country that supposedly gets a lot of rain they certainly aren’t prepared for it. I guess that comes with not having the money to invest in info structure. They have named several cities in the southwest, northwest and central of the country as disaster areas. The roads are flooded with water or destroyed. Lots of people are with out electricity. Hundreds of acers of agriculture have been ruined. More than 20 people have died due to various causes. Transportation in the city is still ok but between cities is dangerous and slow at best. So many roads aren’t paved and are going to be slow for…well a long time. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All of this is from watching the news. Besides all of the rain it really doesn’t seem that bad here. Nothing I haven’t seen before, lots of rain and a little bit of wind. It’s 75 degrees out and everyone is wearing pants and two sweaters complaining about how cold it is. I’m still in shorts and a t-shirt sitting under a slow moving fan. I have to say it has all of the rain has been a bit comforting. Although it’s still warm here, at least I’m not missing all of fall. I like clothes for this kind of weather, and being able to drink warm drinks and use a sheet or even blanket to sleep. &lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The thing is it doesn’t seem that rare to me. Our classes were cancelled Monday and Tuesday. I can only remember once in my life school was let out early because of a big storm. Even in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Santiago&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;, where we weren’t hit very badly, the people are worried about going out on the streets because of falling trees and electric polls. I feel fairly safe outside in a storm at home. Although I might rather sit inside and watch from a window, I wouldn’t be worried about putting on a sweatshirt and rain coat and walking to class. I had to be reminded that things are not the same here; safety is not the same. I got a lecture about not owning an umbrella. Although it is so practical, I have never owned one before. Dominicans believe that if you get wet from the rain you will get sick. Not even if you get inside soon and dry off, EVERY time you head gets wet from the rain you WILL get sick. The people here do not go out in the rain. There is a tradition when it rains like this everyone stays at home, no one goes to school or work, and eats sancocho (kind of like a stew) and drinks rum. We had sancocho…but no rum.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another aspect of cultural differences, as well as a reminder that I am living in a developing country. I pray that no more damage will be done, as well as for the safety for those who have lost homes. It seems that those who have little to lose end up losing the most in unfortunate situations like these. I pray that help and support will end up in right places for people who need it. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well there the DR has been in the news for another thing this week that actually relates to my trip this weekend and one of the classes that I am taking, but that will have to wait until later this week. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-4520979949892993192?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/4520979949892993192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=4520979949892993192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4520979949892993192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4520979949892993192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/10/la-repblica-dominicana-en-los-noticias.html' title='La República Dominicana en los noticias.'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-3066978633137044553</id><published>2007-10-22T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T06:53:01.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Retreat</title><content type='html'>I went on a work retreat this weekend. It felt so good to go away from the house and away from Santiago to do something. My health held up pretty well. I just got lighted headed a couple of times after standing or walking a lot with out water. This was definitely the most activity I have had since I was sick. As frustrating as it is to get tired before I should I was pretty happy with how my body handled the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We worked with a Peace Core volunteer in a batey only about an hr from Santiago. First a batey, originally constructed by sugar cane companies to house its workers during the harvest. The workers were not strictly but usually Haitian, and other foreigners. This was work that Dominicans don’t do. Considered modern day slavery, the men work 6 or 7 days a week 12 hrs a day, get paid about $2 for every ton of cane they cut. Barracks were constructed to house one man in every room. Now there are whole families living in each. Over the year the immigrant Haitians didn’t return to Haiti and so little towns grew in these bateys. Some of them still have harvest but in the last decade the sugar companies have plummeted. The world doesn’t use it the same any more. There are artificial sugars, and the US has such a big low sugar diet campaign. The DR use to produce almost all of the sugar for Europe but now they get some from other places and use other types of sweeteners. So the harvest have been less frequent or none at all. These towns were/are not constructed for the permanent residence that it has and the racism towards Haitians has lead to the government or anyone for that matter thinking these people even deserve better living conditions. This is poverty. The one we went to doesn’t have running water. Recently got electricity although only sometimes, and they pay more for it than the average Dominican. There are all kinds of health issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Peace Core guy is a health volunteer. We worked with him to construct latrines. %60 of the people go to the bathroom in the cane fields which causes all kind of health concerns, namely from the back tracking that occurs because there isn’t any real designated location. We made six latrines on Saturday. Not exactly easy work in the sun but once we figured out what we were doing it picked up and in the end of the day we were successful. And some of the little kids would try to help, holding wood and nails. We had a lot of help from several of the guys who lived in the batey. We just built the latrine casitas, a group of men there dug the holes, and will continue to finish putting it all together. I was pleased with the project that we worked on. I really think this is something that the people want and will use. If they don’t understand or care about the health concerns, it is so much more convenient and closer. I have become critical of service type work like this. It is a lot harder to give valuable aid than it seems. It takes a lot of work to decide what the people really need and then to go about doing it in a way that will actually benefit them. There is so much more that needs to be done than building a latrine. If they have it but have no sense of ownership, it won’t get taken care of. If they don’t understand the value of it, it won’t get used. We only worked on a very small portion of this project, the easy part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole situation was a little odd at times and I still don’t really know what to think about it. We get there the first day and pile out of this guagua nicely dressed with cameras. Jonathan, the Peace Core guy, gives us a poverty tour of the batey. I am interested in learning how they live, but I feel like I am exploiting their living situation for my own learning. As much as I can benefit from the experience it doesn’t seem right. Why do I deserve to be on this side of the glass in the situation that I am in? It doesn’t make it any better that I am horrible at small talk, in any language. The whole weekend was more for our benefit of the experience than the actual good or help we were giving. Those guys could have made the latrines in probably a quarter of the time, but they were suppose to let us to some of the work. Mostly the service we provided was donating the materials for these latrines. So much of volunteering is just this. The people volunteering are looking to benefit from the work, and this gets in the way of what they can actually give. Would it have been better for use to just donate the materials? At what point do people have the right to benefit from the life experience? I don’t know the answer to that, ‘cause I think that something like this can be very eye opening and there are a lot of people in the US, in the world that should probably have an experience with poverty. I want to spend my life serving, and I am more and more interested in working in developing countries, but it’s awkward, and hard. It’s a lot to think about, much from just living here, but new things from this weekend. I am inspired, skeptical, curious, confused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-3066978633137044553?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/3066978633137044553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=3066978633137044553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/3066978633137044553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/3066978633137044553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/10/work-retreat.html' title='Work Retreat'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-3690357614836593971</id><published>2007-10-19T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T09:34:33.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two adventures, one a lot more pleasent than the other.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are two Dominican experiences to report. It has been a while since I’ve written an update. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Primero Samana!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;An all inclusive group trip to an incredible 5 star resort! Includes two privet beaches three pools, all you can eat buffet and drink menu, its own dance club and work out center. It may not be exactly Dominican life, but a dream luxury vacation, complete with picture perfect palm trees and beaches. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Two highlights- A boat tour to el Parque Nacional de Haitices. We went into some isolated caves and man groves on accessible to by boat. I loved learning about the formation of the islands and the intricately carved caves. There were so many amazing views and images that couldn’t be captured on camera. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The second highlight for me was Sunday morning I walked into town with a couple of other girls from the group. The contrast of the town verses up on the hill is crazy. I just hope that even half of the people at that resort make it into the town to spend a little money and really see part of the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Dominican Republic&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. We went to a little market area. A photographer’s paradise. There was this open market where everyone would bring whatever goods they had to sell, whether it be fish or chicken or rice or vegetables. There were so many people there selling and buying. After that we walked around in a little neighborhood. People started coming up to us asking if we would take their picture. It felt so good to just be with the people. It felt so much more like home than in that resort. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Segundo Dengue Fever! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;First featuring, head aches, fevers, body pain, exhaustion. At this point there is little anyone can really do for you. Unfortunately this is the most painful and when the frustration of being in another country with another language and not at home in your mom’s arms (no I’m not ashamed that at 21 years old and this is all I wanted) sets in, all you want to do is break down and cry. Don’t worry there is an overbearing caring family to make sure that you feel really stupid because they think you are crying not cause you want your mommy but because you think you are going to die here. Don’t cry, everyone gets sick, don’t cry it’s not that bad you won’t die. NO YOU DON’T GET IT. I just hurt all over and want my mom to hold me…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Next is an all inclusive stay at a Dominican hospital. 4 nights with an IV lots of drugs and visitors. You will barely move except to go to the bathroom. All of your muscle and the body you worked so hard for will sadly get left at this hospital. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ok so it wasn’t that bad. Yeah I got Dengue Fever. It wouldn’t be like me to miss out on the opportunity to learn first hand about Dominican healthcare. I survived and am now trying to cope with the idea that my body won’t let me do what I want. I’m sick of being stuck at home because I can’t walk 200 steps without getting light headed and tired. But everyone has been really great. My host family defiantly went out of their way to take care of me and still is. As frustrated as I was that they weren’t my real family they did the best job they could taking care of me. I have to say they have a lot of faith in magical juices. There always is a type of juice that my host mom can make that will fix anything wrong with me. I believe that eating nutritious foods can help your health but they talk it up like it has super powers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-3690357614836593971?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/3690357614836593971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=3690357614836593971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/3690357614836593971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/3690357614836593971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/10/two-adventures-one-lot-more-pleasent.html' title='Two adventures, one a lot more pleasent than the other.'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-4070822249444332897</id><published>2007-09-27T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T12:58:53.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dos and don’ts of being a tourist in a non touristy location-</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RvwKySSH6YI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ScF-IO15ZoA/s1600-h/Bayahibe+001+(58).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114975135803632002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RvwKySSH6YI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ScF-IO15ZoA/s320/Bayahibe+001+(58).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t&lt;/strong&gt; go where there aren’t very many people. Isolation is deceivingly beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;We arrived to Barahona after more than 6 hours of public transportation. Immediately after checking into our hotel we head to the beach. We are clearly the only tourists in the town. Which on is neat not being in a touristy area, but when there is no hope of blending in, all the stares are just awkward. We found the beach practically deserted. There were a few fisherman and workers at a local hotel. Not quite the idyllic beach we were all hoping for but we walked around a little with some little boys looking for shells. We had been sitting down talking when one of the oldest boys in the group stole Lynnea’s back pack. No one had a quick response and he easily got away. Damn, that sucks. We all felt so stupid for putting ourselves in that situation. We were completely isolated, it was so easy. It then turned into this big ordeal. A bunch of the boys tried to go off and catch the kid we spend several hours waiting and talking about what to do. The kids found us in the super market, (creepy but how hard is it to find 6 North American girls in a little town) and tried to get us to come with them and confront the kid. Quickly the whole town knew. Later that evening we were sitting on a corner and this guys come up on his motoconcho and asks if we were the girls who got robbed and scolded us for going that far on the beach by ourselves. It was a very unsatisfactory ending of a long day traveling. We felt so vulnerable and stupid. The town just didn’t feel comfortable or safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t&lt;/strong&gt; always trust the guide book.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we got up early and were ready to get out of that town. We book a hotel recommended by my guide book in a town about 30 km south and got on our way. When we got close to the town and asked the driver to drop us off at this hotel. Turns out it was back in Barahona, the town we were running from. Great we have all of our stuff and don’t know where we going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do&lt;/strong&gt; make ask for help when you need it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The guagua driver and the guy who takes the money (there’s an assistant who runs the door) made it their mission to find us a place to stay. We went to three little towns looking for a room, more difficult than you would think. Finally we ended up in this little town called Ojeda. It couldn’t have had more than 40 houses. They had this little colmado, a hotel and a bar, right on the beach. Perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t&lt;/strong&gt; let what one person did to you dictate how you interact with others. You could miss out on what others have to give.&lt;br /&gt;We couldn’t understand why they went to all of this trouble to help complete strangers. At one point they made us all get out so that we could go look at this amazing view of Los Platos, a fresh water river meeting the ocean. I think it took all of us a little while to let it happen but we were being taken care of for no reason. They had know idea how much what they were did meant to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do&lt;/strong&gt; make friends with people who are willing.&lt;br /&gt;Next thing we knew they were going to come back and visit us that night. We played dominos and hung out at our hotel. It was great, safe and comfortable. A couple other people from the town and who worked at the little hotel joined.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Pio, the guagua driver, and Arismende, the door man, picked us up at the hotel to give a couple of the girls a ride to the next town so they could catch a bus because they wanted to head home early. We all decided to go a little ways to find a place to eat breakfast. I guess a fresh fruit market is hard to come by in that area, so Pio just takes us to his house. He says we don’t have much but come, my wife with make you breakfast. How wonderful. We spent the morning sitting in front of his house playing with his kids and neighbors too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do&lt;/strong&gt; find the cultural way to say thank you.&lt;br /&gt;Pio’s wife and Arismende took us to San Rafeal that day and bought us beer and snacks. It was really cool to get to talk and hang out for the day. The took care of us in every way they could. They wouldn’t let us buy them anything. We continued to say thank you thank you, but it just made them uncomfortable. We couldn’t do anything for them. After a little while it got a little frustrating. We didn’t have anything to offer them. The one thing we did have was money, but they wouldn’t let us get them anything. A cultural barrier we couldn’t understand.&lt;br /&gt;That night their whole family came over to our hotel, we hung out on the porch and played games and talked. We had gone to the colmado and bought juice and chocolates. They felt no guilt to let us serve them. We had finally figured out how to play the game. When one person is hosting, the other is always the guest. The idea of dutch, where you go somewhere and each person pays for them selves, or first person buys the first round of drinks and the other buys the second, doesn’t work here. One person completely hosts everything, and the guest reciprocates by hosting another time. It was an interesting lesson to learn. We got so frustrated when they wouldn’t let us buy anything, but we didn’t understand the pride that comes with hosting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do&lt;/strong&gt; take advantage of wherever you are.&lt;br /&gt;This trip we saw other beautiful parts of this country. Besides being basically adopted by a Dominican family, we went to two gorgeous beaches on the south west coast, very different than the north. Bleached white pebbled beaches, lined with palm trees. The two beaches we spend days at had fresh water streams that were made into little swimming holes right next to the beach. The water was cool but refreshing...not like the ocean. The water had good waves to play in too.&lt;br /&gt;Both Sunday and Monday morning we got up early and watched the sunrise over the Caribbean Sea. After we would go and get coffee from this lady who basically feed the entire village from her little colmado. The sweetest coffee I’ve every tasted. It was wonderful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-4070822249444332897?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/4070822249444332897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=4070822249444332897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4070822249444332897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4070822249444332897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/09/dos-and-donts-of-being-tourist-in-non.html' title='Dos and don’ts of being a tourist in a non touristy location-'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RvwKySSH6YI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ScF-IO15ZoA/s72-c/Bayahibe+001+(58).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-4051770606336884251</id><published>2007-09-18T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T12:26:49.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adjusting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I had top-ramen soup for breakfast this morning. My host mom prepared the whole bag plus toasted bread and fruit and juice. Yesterday I had a ham and grilled cheese sandwich and cookies. She always seems surprised when I don’t eat everything I am given, but when I finish something that means that I must want more. They say that portion sized are huge in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;US&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; but I can’t believe how much my family eats here. It is incredible. Plus the concept of healthy is so different here. I would die for fresh raw vegetables, or a mixed green salad. Oh yumm. I’m going to be dreaming about my raw carrots. One night for dinner I had pasta, mashed potatoes and bread, oh and rice, rice goes with everything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I am finally feeling comfortable here. There are still a couple cultural things that I have a hard time getting over. One, the concept of first come first serve, or wait you turn does no exist here. If you think you are in line people will just walk right in front of you. You have to be aggressive to get anything done. That does not work for me. Emily, pushing people out of the way to get to a bathroom stall?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I so content to patiently wait my turn, but here I will not get a turn unless I’m aggressive about it. Watch out when I come back, if I actually get adjusted to this one over the next 3 months.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Another is that no one is on time for anything. School is one thing but everything else in this country runs without a hurry. If a program is suppose to start at 7:00 and you show up at 6:59 you will be the only one there. Likely the speaker won’t even be there yet and people will still be setting up the stage for the next 10-15 min. Say my family is going over to someone’s house for dinner. My host mom might tell me we are leaving about 6:30 ‘más o menos.’ So I get home at 6, change and am ready to go. I don’t like being rushed and hate the feeling when other people are waiting for me. So around 7, someone says ok let’s go, let’s go. No one moves from in front of the TV. We won’t get out of the house until after 8. Ahh take it all with a sense of humor : )&lt;br /&gt;    Adjusting has been longer and harder than I had thought, but I finally believe that I am in the right place. As hard as it is at times I don’t think that I would want to be anywhere else right now. Funny how sometimes you need a change from everything you know. I’m not sure what I would do if I was at LC this semester. This is going to be a growing experience many more ways than one. And has already been, just having more time really by myself to get some thoughts and feelings organized. It sounds so cliché but I’m learning but in ways that I didn’t expect to. My eyes have open to things that my life and heart have been missing the last several months. Not easy but I have been happier here than I have been in a long time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-4051770606336884251?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/4051770606336884251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=4051770606336884251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4051770606336884251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4051770606336884251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/09/adjusting.html' title='Adjusting'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-4272842275211394068</id><published>2007-09-17T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T07:01:44.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend exertion</title><content type='html'>Saturday 4 friends and I set out on an adventure with limited directions to get to a river and swimming hole below some taino ruins. Take a guagua to Moa than another in the direction of Los Pinos but ask if the driving knows where Dona Micha lives. Knock three times on the door than go around back and the mango tree with cast a shadow towards a wire cage and inside will be a chicken that when let loose will show you the trail head. Ok it wasn’t that bizarre, but we felt like we were on a treasure hunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We showed up at the house of a woman who is friends with the director of our program. She did not know we were coming but insisted that she make us lunch and let her sons show us the way up the hike. The house had an incredible view of a lush green valley. It was absolutely breath taking. We sat outside in rocking chairs talking as we gazed at the beautiful view. This family owns a casaba factory. Casaba is made from yuka, a potato like root. It is one of those things that don’t necessarily taste good but once you start eating it you just can’t stop. We got a tour of the factory, and ate plenty of casaba before lunch even started. Everything turned out just as perfectly as possible. We got a ride in the back of someone’s pick up to the trail head, walked up for about 30 min along a stream/in the stream. We ended up at this series of really deep swimming holes connected by a stream of waterfalls. The backdrop was a tropical rain forest fitted with cacti and palm trees, and a huge rock carved face. Well to be honest the face was a bit of a stretch. I guess half of it fell off at some point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such a perfect day. I wish that hiking was easier to do. I defiantly miss that. I was so glad that we actually found one. And swimming is always wonderful here. It was raining when we got there actually but the water still felt amazing. It was one of those days that you have to appreciate God’s beauty. I felt so blessed by so many different things, the area, the company, hospitality, and how everything just fell into line. Very refreshing. I need to keep worshiping Him for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next weekend is a 4day weekend. As of now the plan is to climb Pico Duarte, the tallest peak in the caribbean. I guess it takes a couple of days but backpacking it sort of unheard of here. It sounds like we have to go with a tour guide and will likely have mules carry our stuff up. So not really backpacking but I hope it will be rewarding just the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-4272842275211394068?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/4272842275211394068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=4272842275211394068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4272842275211394068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/4272842275211394068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/09/weekend-exertion.html' title='Weekend exertion'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-5027037780021705602</id><published>2007-09-13T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T10:29:08.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Casarme</title><content type='html'>So two dominicans asked me to marry them today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all there is this ‘classic’ Dominican movie titled Hanky Panky. It is about this Dominican guy named Sanky Panky who really wants to marry an American girl, basically so he can get a green card and move to the US.  He gets a job at a resort to meet girls.  The thing truth is not far behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My community service class was cancelled so I thought I would wonder downtown. The first I was walking toward Calle del Sol after volunteering at the hospital and this guy, at least 6 inches shorter than me, started walking along side me and we start talking. Where are you from? What do you study? Oh you are beautiful and speak really good spainsh!! The normal… When he found out he was only 10 years older than me he said I should marry him so he can be like Sanky Panky. I said no I’m sorry I’m not ready to marry anyone right now. He was sad but asked me if he could call me sometime. I lied and said I didn’t have a cell phone, and walked into the next store I saw. (where I bought some earrings for about $1.50, I was excited about that). So then to head back to the university I got in an M concho. I guess I took it the wrong way because it took forever to get there. All the other passengers had gotten out of the car and the driver stated talking to me. The first thing he asked was if I like the country and the second thing he asked was if I would marry him. Oh no not again. This guy would not let it go. For the next 15 min I he kept making me explain why I didn’t love him and why I didn’t want to marry him. I kept trying to change the subject but whenever there was a lull in conversation he would bring it up again. Talk about guys being forward. I thought I was use to the priopos and guys coming up and talking to you, but two marriage proposals in a day through me off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-5027037780021705602?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/5027037780021705602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=5027037780021705602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/5027037780021705602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/5027037780021705602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/09/casarme.html' title='Casarme'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-1881177500697886509</id><published>2007-09-12T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T12:57:16.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some basics</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I am sitting in my room sweating and it is 9:30 at night. At this point in the day it is much cooler outside than in. The fan and my music tuck me into bed every night. Well by into bed I mean on to it. The only reason to use even the sheet is if you are worried about mosquitoes, who have found fresh blood in my legs. Oh the joys of living in a tropical climate.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;So some basics. I’m living with a host family. I have my own bedroom and bathroom. I have a host mom, dad and three siblings, Angelo, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Antony&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and Angelica. My mom works in the home and is taking some classes. My dad works a ways from &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Santiago&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and so is sometimes gone for days at a time. I’m not exactly clear on what he does. I know that it has to do with education; I think he is on some board of education, overseeing stuff. Almost everything is a guess these days. I can understand the basic ideas in a conversation but I often miss the details. Angelo plays baseball in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;U.S.&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; When his minor league finished he came back here. &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Antony&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; goes to school with me at PUCMM studying engineering.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are both my age. Angelica is 14 and goes to the high school on the same campus as the university. Living with another family has been a little strange. I defiantly feel like a guest and I don’t really like that. I’m not use to people fondling over me, but it is getting better with time. I don’t do my own laundry, or ever cook, or clean, weird for me. As I get use to them they get use to me. I do what I can, but there is defiantly already a routine. This is defiantly a family who doesn’t live without, although might be considered part of the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Dominican Republics&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; small middle class. I have learned almost more about wealth as I have about poverty. Turns out the school I go to is considered pretty snobby by the rest of the city. Lots of rich kids who still live at home. Sometimes it feels like an extension of high school in a way. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I really like the city and the people. It is defiantly really different but at the same time a lot the same. Riding in conchos, (basically a public car that they fit as many people in as possible and costs about 33 cents to go as far as you want), the lack of traffic laws are defiantly new experiences but over all big city life seems to be about the same. The people are so very nice and willing to help with information or anything. They might tell you the wrong directions but they are more than willing to help you. I’m not quite sure yet if that is mostly because of my skin color, even so it seems to be a Dominican characteristic. As nice as the people are friends are a little harder to make. We always seem to find people to talk to but it mostly depends on who is willing to struggle through the Spanish a little. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I have had the chance to go up into the mountains and also to the beach. Both were just as perfect as you can imagine. It is hard to blend in and take in the sights though. I guess being 6’1 I never really ‘blend in,’ but I am also so clearly ‘&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;americana&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;’ here. The people will never let you forget it. The best Dominican experiences I’ve had have been with my family. We go over to relatives houses for various occasions. I also got to go out to the county to visit the grandma of my family. I think that is as close to living the life as I am going to get. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I defiantly have a lot to think about and ponder as I am adjusting to the culture here and some of the opinions and stereotypes of North Americans. Thought I would start with a rough list of facts about life, as it might be hard to recreate past observations. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-1881177500697886509?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/1881177500697886509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=1881177500697886509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1881177500697886509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/1881177500697886509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/09/some-basics.html' title='Some basics'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3641573869371289985.post-3475244656602651553</id><published>2007-09-07T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T15:19:12.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saludos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RuHOLdvkJII/AAAAAAAAAAU/xav3bonFaR0/s1600-h/Picture+008.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/RuHMfNvkJHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CnpjEP6Iuac/s1600-h/Picture+008.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Welcome to my blog. I'm not sure how I feel about blogging in gerneral. Although I don't have anything profound to say when I write I tend to get pretty personal. However, being out of the country, I am writting the same events over and over in e-mails. Sorry to those who don't recieve the frequent ones. Hopefully this will be a way for those who care to, to know a little more about the ongoings of my life. Please respond and let me know how you are doing too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3641573869371289985-3475244656602651553?l=emilydeichsel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/feeds/3475244656602651553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3641573869371289985&amp;postID=3475244656602651553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/3475244656602651553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3641573869371289985/posts/default/3475244656602651553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emilydeichsel.blogspot.com/2007/09/saludos.html' title='Saludos'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17975964127897055019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QThQkEZLdTw/SbN7ARWA84I/AAAAAAAAABA/DX8WeVmfBRw/S220/batey+L+001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
