For the past few weeks, my project has been on hold. Jillian, Derek and I took on the task of cleaning out and reorganizing the storeroom, which is very large and was filled with boxes of Stuff. There was a method to the madness, but there were many boxes of donated personal hygiene items, supplies, and medications that were unopened and stacked on the floor. The man in charge of the storeroom, who until this year was a driver for Project HOPE, had been making occasional ofertas to sell the excess hygiene items cheaply in the pharmacy, but they were hardly making a dent in the stash of face washes, band aids and toothbrushes that cluttered the facility. We took it upon ourselves to:
Jillian posing with a pile of some of the boxes that we emptied.
(1) organize the medications alphabetically by generic name, integrating most of the donated meds instead of keeping them on a separate shelving unit where many sat until their expiration dates
(2) take EVERYTHING out of boxes and into clear plastic bags if not stackable
(3) organize the inventory into sections (cleaning supplies, nursing, lab, dentistry, OB/GYN, 5 Star VIP party goodies, oftertas, etc.)
(4) make ofertas thematic, plentiful and of various sizes/prices. That is, rather than each one being an odd assortment of goods—a baby cream, an acne face wash, and a toothbrush, for example—they now are targeted for a specific audience. We assembled several hundred (categorized as “baby,” “woman” or “dental”), and emphasized that they should be priced as low as possible because we want them to MOVE! I made signs to post on the pharmacy window to describe what’s being sold. This helps remove the barrier of having to ask whether there is an oferta and what it includes. The man who runs the storeroom told us that he will continue the practice of themed ofertas, and the signage seems to be saving time and effort at the pharmacy window as well as publicizing what’s being sold.
5) donate supplies that will not be used in either clinic (including thousands of masks) to the local hospital, and move several large boxes of toothbrushes and gloves to the Herrera clinic. At the “8am” dengue prevention meeting that we made an appearance at in Santo Domingo, Teresa and the Sector 7 representative discussed a Ministry of Public Health tooth-brushing initiative in several of the sector’s clinics, including the Herrera clinic. The rep asked whether Project HOPE could acquire toothbrushes so that at each clinic visit/workshop the patients could all receive a toothbrush. Teresa noted that the initiative should involve multiple/ongoing visits to the clinics, rather than just one or two sessions at each, in order to reach more patients, and agreed to procure a few thousand toothbrushes. We had so many toothbrushes in the Monte Plata clinic storeroom that I don’t think Teresa will have to ask Project HOPE for a donation after all.
Over the weekend, Jillian, Derek and I traveled up to the North(-east) coast for a mini vacation in Las Terrenas. Teresa set had suggested it and made our lodging reservation—2 nights in what we thought was a room in someone’s house/apartment. We didn’t have much other information, but had heard wonderful things about Las Terrenas and Teresa assured us that a previous volunteer had enjoyed her time there and liked the accommodations. 
We had some adventures getting to Las Terrenas by guagua, and ended up seeing the much larger town of Samana and riding in a motorcycle rickshaw in the course our journey. We eventually made it to Las Terrenas and were picked up by Regine, the woman who owns the house. After setting our stuff down and checking out our digs (2 separate suites, each with a bedroom, kitchen, living/dining area and bathroom, tastefully decorated), she drove us to the beach. We all had a snack and a drink at a beachfront Cuban-owned restaurant/bar called Mojitos, and then Jillian, Derek and I hung out on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. Regine returned for Happy Hour at Mojitos, when the drinks are buy-one-get-one. So we did. And I got an extra one because it was my birthday, which Derek mentioned to the owner while we chatting with him in the ocean. I had some help finishing that third mojito, as delicious as it was 🙂
We spent the entirety of Saturday in the water and on the beach, leaving only to get sandwiches and more water from a “minimarket” for lunch. To my ketchup-loving friends: there was surprise ketchup on my melted cheese sandwich, and I enjoyed it. Sorry for all the years of judging. (Actual tomatoes are preferable, but the sweetness was strangely good.)
On Sunday, we took a long walk along the beach, relaxed in the shade, had really good pizza (at a restaurant that was also on the beach), and caught the Santo Domingo-bound guagua back to the Monte Plata intersection, where we got the little Bayaguana-Monte Plata guagua into town.
Despite frequent application of high SPF waterproof sunblock, I got terribly sunburnt in Las Terrenas. My skin is no match for the Caribbean sun. That said, I had never felt that a sunburn was so worth it. 4 days of pain and 3-5 days of peeling is a small price to pay for a weekend at such a breathtakingly perfect beach. Plus, Jillian and Derek both got burnt as well, so I have company in my pain and peeling.
Regine’s Spanish was quite hard to understand on the phone, which made sense as soon as we met her; she is French, so Derek became our translator for the weekend. It was a fun reversal of roles, though Regine still switched to Spanish to explain things to me when Derek couldn’t translate well/fast enough. I was also surprised how much of the French I understood without translation; between my semester of French in college and its similarity to Spanish, I was often able to follow along. I couldn’t reply in French, but replying in Spanish (with a smattering of French) worked out. We also noticed that Regine would frequently mix French and Spanish when speaking to us, so it sometimes took a joint effort to figure out what she was saying.
Las Terrenas has a very large expat community, which is predominately French. In speaking with a British man on the beach, we learned that there is tension between other expats and the French community, which is very tight-knit and perceived as elitist. Or, as he put it, “they think they own the place.” Unfortunately, Regine’s comments and interactions with others in town contribute to this perception. She warned us against “Dominicans and Haitians” who might steal our belongings, made sure to differentiate between French-owned and Dominican-owned restaurants and stores, and described the tables we sat at in front of the boulangerie as the “French” section, aka the “VIP area.” In asking for more coffee, she tapped loudly on the glass window to summon the waiter, which made the three of us cringe.
Having lived in Las Terrenas for 15 years, Regine seemed to be well-known and well-connected, which worked out nicely for us. She showed us around, brought us to great food and drink spots, and expected/received special treatment in all of them. This usually entailed not having to pay the required tip (10%) on meals or, in the case of my birthday dinner, a round of sweet digestives that probably would not have been brought out if she had not requested them. Another perk of staying with Regine—and her taking a special liking to us—was that she drove us to and from town and made us a fabulous French dinner on Saturday evening. She frowned upon my vegetarianism (“vegetables are so simple!”), but took great pride in preparing a full meal for all of us, complete with French wine (“French is the best!”) and (ice) cream puffs with chocolate syrup (“Presentation is very important: you eat with your eyes first.”).
Since the three of us are all interested in healthcare, we asked about healthcare in Las Terrenas. Regine told us that there are a couple of (expensive) private clinics and the public hospital. When she drove us by the hospital to see it, and it was closed. We asked why a hospital would ever be closed and how a large (and well-off) town could not have a 24-hour hospital. She didn’t have an answer beyond a shrug and vocal disdain for the way the hospital(/Dominican institutions) are run. She also brought us to a French-run pharmacy in town. Derek and Jillian, as pharmacy graduate students, were intrigued by the large selection of homeopathic remedies, which they described as dangerous since several of them were for quite serious conditions (including angina and bulimia), which really should be treated medically.
