So...wow! The past two days of training here in Miami have been incredible!!! I have met some of the most amazing people. They are all so accomplished, and it is really an honor to be here with them. I am definitely going through ups and downs, vascillating from really optimistic/happy/excited to missing friends and family/being nervous/feeling unprepared. But I would be weird if I wasn't feeling these things, so it's cool, right? Right? (I need validation!Validate me! Validate me!)

Yesterday after hours of training, we went to a bar/restaurant two doors down. We ordered some food and drinks and admired the awesome salsa-and-merengue-dancing-couples who were dancing to the live band. It was awesome. What made it even more awesome was the waiter (Nay, not just a waiter! The "playa of the month" waiter!) who grabbed me and started Salsaing with me on the dance floor in front of the bar. Oh, and the random stranger who bought us ladies roses for Valentine's Day. It was an awesome night, and a great bonding experience for all of us.

So, one thing during training truly cracked me up. We were reflecting on how we will know we are being accepted in the Dominican culture. One person jokingly said, "They will actually use your name--instead of a slur--to get your attention." I laughed out loud because it reminded me of George (names have been changed to maintain anonimity), one of my students at LKS. For the first few months, he HATED me...well, not me exactly. He just didn't deal well with change, especially new people, and ESPECIALLY women. So, he hated the concept of "new person". Anyway, being the ED kid he is, he called me "Bitch-Slut-Whore" for about two or three months. As he started getting used to me, he began addressing me as "woman", which pleased me more than "Bitch-Slut-Whore" but you know, still wasn't my name. By month four, he was calling me "Christina". And at that point I knew I was accepted. Mike had accepted me as his teacher by testing me to see if I would be there for him even after being awful to me, and he realized that I would.

I have reflected on this, and I have to say that I hope that the Dominicans are a little nicer with their slurs. And I can't wait for the day when I do feel accepted. I wonder what the indication will be fore me, and if I will even be aware of it when it happens or if it will be so subtle that I will see it in retrospect?

So, the origin of the title of this blog...The Enigma. You may have seen him on one of those weird shows like Ripley's Believe It or Not, or the Guiness Book of World Records, or something, but he is covered in blue puzzle-piece tattoos from head to toe. Not only than, but he also has horns (made of teflon--I asked) implanted in his head. And he is staying in our hotel. Naturally when everyone else in the lobby just stared at him, I decided to break the ice and actually talk to him: "Hey, haven't I seen you on TV?" He responded with, "Yeah, I get around." A few of my friends and I started chatting with him while we were all waiting for taxi cabs. (His was to take him to a TV show and ours was to take us to our final dinner in the US...mmm, Thai!) So anyways, after some talking I say, "Oh, by the way, I'm Christina." As I reach out to shake his hand, he says, "I'm The Enigma."
ME: The Enigma?
THE ENIGMA: Yes, The Enigma.
ME: So your first name is "The"? (haha)
THE ENIGMA: It's more like a title--like the "sir" in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
ME: Oh.

So, we talk some more, and I realize this guy is kinda a self-important douche. He asks us what we are doing, and we tell him the Peace Corps. He starts making fun of it, telling us it is a lateral career move and we are clearly either trying to boost our resumes, or undecided about what to do with our lives, or both. I wanted to be like, "Well, you have your life mapped out for yourself, don't you? I'm glad you have found your calling in looking like a freakish demon smurf." WTF? I mean, seriously. So, the conversation dwindles and we all start desperately looking outside for our cabs because it's clear we all want to leave and make the conversation end. All of the sudden, the doorman comes inside and yells, "Paul, is there a Paul waiting for a cab?!" The Engima gets, up, grabs his things, and mutters, "God, I hate it when they use my real name! I'm THE ENIGMA!"

I could just see him as a child, his mother calling up to his room: "Paul, it's time for breakfast! Come down now!"

"MOOOOOM! I'm THE ENIGMA! Gosh!"

Just a reminder...if you want to write to me, my address is:
Christina Luckett, PCT
Cuerpo de Paz
Apartado Postal 1412
Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

If you send packages, they say to try and send things in padded envelopes or large envelopes. Otherwise I have to pay a levy (and I have to give you a different address to send stuff). So, not to twist your arms, but I would love some mail, and I promise to write back!

Okay, I'd better go. I have to be checked out of the hotel in 6 hours. We have a 2 day retreat when we arrive in country, and we meet our host families friday evening. I am so excited! Eeeeeeee! I don't know when I will have access to the internet again, but I will update as soon as I can. I miss you all!