Tree Planting

A friend of ours from my job put together an environmental advocacy group aptly named The Green Team. As a follow-up to their Green 5K run a few weeks ago, the Ministry of Environment donated a bunch of trees to the organization. About 20 of us joined about 30 or 40 Dominicans and trekked out to Bonao in the interior of the country to plant a few of the trees. The plan was to head out of the city around 7:30, drive out to Bonao, plant a few trees and be back home by noon. As with everything else in this country, things didn’t go quite as planned.

After meeting up with the other tree planters, a caravan of minivans made their way through villages en route to the forest. After a brief hike through an open field, our guide passed out small bundles of tree seedlings and explained to us the planting process. Given that we were standing in an open field devoid of trees, neighboring a fairly dense stand of trees, we all assumed that our goal that day would be to extend the already established forest into the open fields. On the contrary, we were tasked with planting trees on the fairly steep hill on the other side of the trees…in nearly 100 degree weather.

Hiking up the side of a steep hill in the blazing heat was not what any of us had signed up for. Needless to say, many of the volunteers for the day felt blindsided, unprepared and generally miserable. Jahkedda and I were doing alright, but even we weren’t exactly having the best time. Once we all finished planting our bundles of trees, we hiked back to the vans for water and prepared to head home. However, the rest of the group had other plans.

Backtracking through the village and barreling further down the highway, the caravan turned off the main road and through another village heading to a waterfall close by. By this point, Jahkedda was getting fed up with the heat, the hiking and the general outdoors. After great deliberation, we decided to follow the trail towards the waterfall with the intention of turning back if the trail became too arduous. On the first half of the route, things were going fine in terms of gradation of the trail. Also the sun had dipped behind the clouds, so the temperature had fallen significantly. But then it began to drizzle… and then rain… and then pour! Our only choice was to turn back and retrace our steps back to the van. The only problem with that plan was that we had already walked 20-30 minutes so it would take at least that long in the pouring rain to make it back.

The first 10 minutes of trudging through the pouring rain were fairly miserable. But then, we reached a point of saturation at which point we realized that we were completely soaked and it no longer mattered that it was still raining. We were then able to appreciate the cooling raindrops and take in the amazingly beautiful view that we had previously managed to completely overlook: the lush greenery, the jagged rocks of the mountains, the rushing river below. We finally made it back to the van, and about 45 minutes later the rest of the group returned and we made our way back to Santo Domingo.

Although it wasn’t exactly how we imagined and there were some frustrations along the way, all in all it turned out well. There was a good crowd, amazing scenery and we got some good exercise. And that’s basically how most things tend to turn out in this country: it’s never perfect, it’s never how you imagined, but when it’s all said and done, you’re always glad you did it.

Drenched in sweat after tree planting

Military Guard. Not exactly sure what he was there to protect: The Cows? The Seedlings? The Volunteers?

SKYDIVING!!!

For my 30^th birthday last year, Jahkedda bought me a pass to go skydiving and since we were preparing to make the leap to live here in Santo Domingo, she also bought one for herself so that we could make that leap together. Unfortunately, Mother Nature was not on our side and we weren’t able to make the jump before leaving the U.S.

Taking advantage of the good weather during our last trip to the U.S., we rescheduled our jump during our time with my folks in Baltimore. Commandeering my father’s SUV, we made the nearly 3-hour trek out to the jump site in northern Virginia. Upon arriving at the airplane hangar, we were greeted by the matriarch of the family-run business, surrounded by her adult sons, her daughter, son-in-law, and their 2 small kids. Her husband had just landed in the neighboring field and was busy unlatching their previous customer and rolling up the chute.

After signing a stack of liability waivers and receiving a brief (very brief!) tutorial on the process, I found myself being strapped in. One brief glance at the very compact Cessna airplane made it very clear that Jahkedda and I would not be jumping together. Whereas Jahkedda had done this once before and sensed that I was the more nervous of the two of us, she suggested that I go first. Strike now before reason and nerves drained the remainder of courage left within me.

While the plane looked small from the outside, it wasn’t until I stepped inside that I realized just how small it really was. There were no more than 10 feet from the pilot’s dials to the rear of the plane. I couldn’t help trying to calculate whether the size of the plane made it more or less likely to plummet to my death. Interrupting my calculations, the door slammed shut, the noisy engine kicked in and we began to taxi to the runway. Everything was happening so quickly that I hadn’t had time to think about what I had gotten myself into, the imminent danger before me. However, once the plane took off, there were no more instructions or preparations to distract me from my own thoughts. All that existed were me, the pilot, the guide and roar of the engine beneath us. A wave of doubt and second thought rushed over me. Paying good money to jump out a perfectly functioning airplane seemed at that moment like the most ridiculous idea I had ever had. But by then, it was too late to turn back. My best bet was avoid looking out the window to try to forget what was about to happen. I looked for a distraction. I did my best to avoid eye contact with the guide and all that he represented. I focused on the innumerable dials and switches manipulated by the calm and seemingly experienced pilot. I found escape in guessing what each switch controlled, what each meter measured. I was surprisingly successful in my pursuit. It wasn’t until the guide, whose existence I desperately tried to forget, roused me from my state that I was abruptly reminded of the task at hand.

Strapped tandem to the guide and at the appropriate elevation, the door is swung open and I am faced with incredibly strong winds and clouds passing below me. The guide instructs me to lay my feet one in front of the other out the open door and onto the ledge below. What happens next is all a blur. The next thing I remember is falling. And fear. Fear that something would go horribly wrong. Fear that I hadn’t paid enough attention in pre-flight tutorial. Fear that my hands weren’t positioned correctly to allow for the optimal deployment of the parachute. Fear that I had tempted the fates and as in some Greek tragedy, the day’s events wouldn’t turn out well for the protagonist.

Then, as if by magic, all became serene. I was in my correct position. The sensation of falling had diminished in my mind. I slowly took in the view. My heartbeat slowed. It was as if I was no longer falling. I was gliding slowly and comfortably back home. All was again right with the world. The guide deployed the parachute with a slight jerk and we began to drift towards the ground. He handed me the reigns, one on either side of me. I was told to tug on one handle, which made us swirl in one direction and then pull on the other to make us spiral in the other. I had very little tolerance for such antics. I had somehow miraculously survived the worst of the fall, and now that the parachute was open and we were all but home free, he decided to tempt fate once again. I wanted no part of it. Sensing my lack of enthusiasm for this part of the process, the guide reclaimed the reigns and guided us smoothly and efficiently back to the landing field.

Once on the ground, my heart rate was much higher than I expected and the sensation of falling still remained within me. There was also an overwhelming feeling of relief that we had landed safely and the strong desire to never leave terra firma again. Jahkedda was there in the field to greet me. I was very happy to see her. Next was her turn, and I knew, as in most things, she would perform much better than I.

Lunch with the First Lady

The Consul General, who is in charge of consular operations in the country and is my main boss, is leaving the country after nearly four years on the island. As far as Dominican society is concerned, the consulate, the office through which all visas flow, is the only department at the US Embassy that matters. As such, the Consul General (CG) has had a great deal of access to Dominican government officials. As a farewell to him and a passing of the torch to his replacement, the President's wife invited him and his "team" to lunch. In my current position as deputy chief of my section, I am part of the CG's team.

A group of about 7 of us boarded a van and made our way a short distance to the First Lady's office, which is located just across the street from the Presidential Palace. Dominicans in general are a flashy people. Expensive cars, European suits, international travel are the marks of high society. As such, I was greatly looking forward to meeting the First Lady just to witness the extravagance that would surely be on display.

Upon arrival, we spent some time chatting with a few members of her staff while the First Lady, the CG and his wife met privately in an adjoining chamber. About one hour after lunch was scheduled to begin, we were seated at the table. Although we were only about a dozen people, there was enough food on hand to easily serve twice that amount. The waitstaff ushered each of us to our place at the table, indicated by the small placards bearing our names placed above each table setting. There was a small band set up on stage playing a mix of Dominican favorites and smooth jazz standards. After 10 additional minutes of polite conversation, the CG and his wife emerged from a side entrance, and we then all stood as the First Lady made her appearance.

She was not what I was expecting. Amazingly, she was actually pretty normal. She gracefully and cordially made her rounds greeting each of her guests individually. She spoke in English to some and Spanish to others. She wore a bright smile and made direct eye contact with each person as she warmly shook their hand. She was both welcoming and confident. I was seated to the right of the CG, who was in turn seated to the right of the First Lady. Given my position at the end of the table, there was no one for me to talk to other than the CG, so I spent the majority of the lunch observing the First Lady and how she interacted with her guests and staff. Perhaps as a nod to our boss, Hillary Clinton, she wore a simple green pants suit, very little jewelry and muted red fingernail polish. The only eye-catching feature of her dress that day was the overstated diamond trio of rings on her left ring finger.

Throughout lunch, she maintained her place as the center of attention through her stimulating conversation and reasoned responses. She spoke of current events, Dominican-American cooperation, Caribbean culture. She was smart, social and engaging. Very early on, it became clear that as her husband approaches his constitutionally mandated limit of office why she is rumored to be the front-runner to replace him.

Living in this society, you very quickly lose faith in the Dominican government officials. It's nice to see that at least at the very top there's hope that there are people in power that actually deserve to be there.

Next Steps

Both of us being planners by nature, this weekend was spent trying to figure out what are plans for the next 1, 5 and 10 year time frames should be. While we haven't hammered out all of the details, we made some really good progress.

One Year Out:

I still have a little over a year left on my commitment to the State Department so now is the time to start figuring out next steps. Fortunately, Jahkedda enjoys the work that she's doing for the organization that hired her a few months back. Given that there is no physical location and all of the work is done virtually, that frees us up quite a bit geographically. We seriously considered a move to London directly following our time in the DR. And then after our time in Mexico, we were convinced that Mexico City was where we needed to be. After discussing what made the most sense for us career-wise and financially, we decided that maybe a move back to the US would be in our best interests. While London boasts a dynamic and multi-faceted economy, London is such an expensive place to live and the British haven't quite been able to pull themselves out of the recession just yet. Mexico City, on the other hand, would be a great place to spend a couple years, but it didn't seem to be the best place for my career goals, at least not in the short term. So, the US seemed to be the best place for us while we work on building a foundation in the new directions that our careers are leading.

As far as Jahkedda's concerned, although her job is virtual, being back on the East Coast would put her geographically closer to many of her clients, which provides opportunities for her to build her professional network.

As for me, I'm considering a move into consulting on climate change and sustainability issues. While London may have been an ideal place for such work, the East Coast also has many very interesting developments in that area. In an effort to slowly begin to make a name for myself in that industry, today I launched a new website focused on that arena, still under the address of my previous website, www.aarontyrellmitchell.com.

Five Years Out:

We still have our sights set internationally. Both London and Mexico City still maintain their appeal for us, and we're sure over time, we'll only add to the list. Although continued presence abroad is not looking like the best option at this point in the game, we definitely expect to live abroad again once we're more established in our careers. Jahkedda is well on her way to developing the type of work that can be done literally from anywhere in the world. It's now up to me to figure out how to add a component of mobility to my career so that we can live in a place simply because we like living there, as opposed to the job opportunities present. The goal is be ready to pack up and ship out in 2-3 years time, but that all depends on where we find ourselves at that point in our lives.

Ten Years Out:

Having lived on the East Coast and here in the Caribbean, we've learned that extreme weather is something that is best avoided. Neither hot and humid summers nor cold and snowy winters hold much appeal for us. The ability to maintain two separate residences in different parts of the world is the principle idea behind this part of the plan. To make this happen, we would need to clear any and all debt, so we created an Debt Reduction Calculator spreadsheet in excel (to wrap our minds around paying-off our ever-looming student loans in this lifetime). We'd love to be in a financial and professional position to have an apartment in DC or NY for the temperate part of the year, but be able to escape to South America or Southern Europe once summer becomes too oppressive or winter too unbearable. When you take away the need to make debt payments every month while developing careers without geographic limitations, much of the risk associated with living wherever you want simply fades away.

So that's the plan. We're interested in seeing how it all plays out.

MEXICO

We just got back from spending about a week and a half in Mexico and it was AWESOME! So awesome, in fact, that we're thinking about moving there after we leave the DR.

Mexico was a lot different than either of us had expected. Despite its proximity to the US, Mexico City is much more of a European-style city than an American one. There were sidewalk cafes and restaurants all over the city; the cafes and teahouses were full of young people discussing life, art, politics; the main traffic arteries were made up of wide tree-lined boulevards; contemporary art galleries dotted the city; the traffic circles boasted elaborate fountains and larger-than-life sculptures; and the city's many parks were full of students and office workers chatting, reading and eating lunch. It had very little in common with capitals of other developing countries that we've visited.

When we first arrived here in Santo Domingo, we spent 10 weeks in the Marriott Hotel close to the embassy while we waited for our apartment to be ready. Those 2.5 months in the basic Marriott Courtyard in Santo Domingo earned use 3 nights in the super fancy J.W. Marriott in Mexico City with Executive Lounge privileges for my birthday weekend. It was hands down the best hotel we've ever stayed in. First, it was located in the super posh part of town, which was replete with art galleries and high-end boutiques. Secondly, the service was impeccable: the concierge scored us dinner reservations and event tickets; the hotel bar staff was great; and the exec lounge was always stocked with free booze and food whenever we wanted.

There were, however, definitely some shady parts to the city too. On my actual birthday, we got tickets to the Lucha Libre, an even more over the top Mexican equivalent of WWF Smackdown. Trying to hail a cab afterwards, we quickly came to the realization that the arena was definitely in the 'hood. And as the only black people in Mexico, we were desperately trying to snag a taxi before we brought any more attention to ourselves. The Lucha Libre itself was pretty cool, in a "what the hell is going on" sort of way. From the masked "luchadores", to the ridiculous choreographed antics in the ring, to the overly exuberant fans in the seats, it was well worth the US$8 ticket.

In addition to Mexico City, we also checked out the much smaller cities of Puebla and Cholula, which were also really cool. All in all, Mexico is definitely worth a visit. In the US, we hear about all of the violence and mayhem in the northern border region, but when you're in Central Mexico, it's like you're in a whole different country.

Breakfast at Café de Carlo

Before the Aventura Concert

Colonial Church: Cholula

Birthday Cake Time!

Pyramid Ruins: Cholula

Still Here

So we haven't been very good at updating this blog. We've been so bad in fact, that it took us about 20 minutes to even figure out what our username was.

Here's a quick update of our journey so far as we approach our one year anniversary here in the DR:

-- After doing some contract work for the UN late last year, Jahkedda landed a sweet telecommuting job that she can do from home in her pajamas

-- A couple months ago, Aaron was named as the Deputy Chief of the section he had been working in since arriving at post.

-- We spent Christmas and New Year's with Jahkedda's family in Trinidad, where Aaron discovered a love for Soca music

-- We've become masters at not only the Merengue but also the Bachata

-- With the help of three of her siblings that flew down from NY, Jahkedda celebrated an EPIC 30th birthday weekend

-- We're headed to Mexico City in a week to celebrate Aaron's 31st birthday

-- After much debate and introspection, we decided to finish out the 2-year tour here in the DR instead of jumping ship later this year. So we'll be here through June 2011.

-- Although we're still learning, neither of us really speaks Spanish all that well.