yolas and mud pies

I was under the impression that the beach we visited last weekend was close to perfect. The only problem I could see is that for surfers out there, the waves are wimpy. However, in a discussion this week, I discovered that the beach we went to is on the top 10 list in the world of human trafficking takeoff points. Along with that statistic is the fact that it's also a prime drug trafficking departure spot. Apparently, many people fly into Santo Domingo and after landing go straight to Miches (in addition to the people from the DR). From there, they take off in yolas, or little made-on-location boats to Puerto Rico. I've been able to talk to a few guys who have made the trip in yolas to Puerto Rico and to the US by plane after that, and it's a tough process. And usually more expensive than the money immigrants from south of the border have to spend to get into the country. People can die fairly easily even though it's a short trip, and there's always the threat of getting caught in the ocean or on land, and deported. Pretty crazy emigration situation. . . To get to the beach, you do have to drive (or walk) down a long winding dirt road through palm trees and rice paddies, with no signs to direct anyone to the beach; it is super isolated. Our friend who drove us lost his keys while we were there for a few hours, and I'm glad we didn't have to end up spending the night there! We only found them buried deep in the sand after half-heartedly helping him look a few times. On a lighter note, there were a couple little pigs who came to visit while we were there. And I´m not referring to the pasty and heavy Europeans there on vaction :) This week was just a normal week here in El Seibo: we have internships at our various computer centers, Spanish classes, and other sessions, along with family and neighbor time outside of classes. The classes that my partner and I help teach have kids ages 10 through 21 in the same class, which makes things interesting. Jenny and I continue to have our runs through the cow pastures at the edge of our neighborhood, and sometimes we get scared because we accidentally make the cows run away from us. We run pretty close to them, but it's wonderful to get out of the town and into the open. The baseball field boys that we have to run past at the beginning yell Jennifer Lopez and I love you when we go past to get into the open fields. I usually walk the same way to my Spanish class at my friend´s house, and there are always people out staring at me as I walk -- gringos in the country here are always a source of interest. And staring or yelling comments is completely ordinary. This week there were four little kids gathered who lined up when they saw me coming down their dirt street, and I heard them saying, "Uno, dos, tres" and then I here a chorus of "Good morning!" directed at me. They´d been preparing to say hi to me! I stopped and chatted for a little bit, and now I have some new friends to wave to on my way to class.