Street Dogs

I've been busy searching the internet for volunteer opportunities for this summer. Instead of going home, I want to spend my 8 weeks doing something. I've decided that I want to work with animals. Maybe wildlife or maybe domestic, I haven't decided. There are a ton of opportunities out there! I've sent a application to an organization that does research with turtles on the Galapagos. I've also sent an email to a Bolivian wildlife center. During my search I found a website of an organization in Bolivia that helps with domestic animals and I started clicking on their links only to find the WSPA - the World Society for Protection of Animals. In just a few clicks I found information about a book that has been published about street dogs.

 Damn, this was my idea. I've had this idea for a few years now, but you know, life is busy and well I don't really know how to go about publishing a book. The author, who is ironically, a Rhode Islander, traveled to Puerto Rico and Mexico and took photographs of street dogs there.

Now my street dog photographic library is a bit more extensive. I've now collected photos from Burma, Thailand, Laos, Bolivia, Peru, Argentina, with more to come. In the places I've lived I have dogs from several cities... Now I have been thinking about a "theme" for the book. I was thinking of doing a little commentary of the different places I've been and then photos of the dogs. I'm not a photographer, so the shots aren't fantastic. The dogs have to do the speaking in the photo and I have to link it to something that would be interesting. Recently I decided to make sure I get the dog as part of a larger photograph, not just a dog photo that could have been taken anywhere, but with cultural stuff in the photo as well. I don't need and am not motivated by money so I would like this project to donate 100% of the profits to organizations out there that are helping. Anyone have any connections with a publisher? Anyone want to join in and help get this thing going?

Here's some photos from my collection...

This pup was sleeping along the Mekong River in Vientiane, Laos.

Just hanging out by the huge Reclining Buddha in Yangon, Burma.

Along the beach of Ngapali in Western Burma.

This pup had two different colored eyes. Just hanging out by the La Paz street vendors.

Machu Picchu pup.

On the streets of Tarija, Bolivia.

San Jose de Chiquitos, Bolivia seemed to have more street dogs than people.

What do you think?

Angel Sent from Heaven to live with me here on Earth

Two years ago today I had the worst day of my life. The funny thing about it is that I’m not scared, worried or afraid to die. In fact I really do feel that if today was my last day on earth that I would be ready to go. But, obviously I did not die, my dog did. And she didn’t just go gently into the night either. As much as I prayed and prayed, she suffered and in the end I had to suck it up and make the awful choice to euthanize her.

That day was a day full of denial. She had been diagnosed with cancer, lymphoma, a few months earlier and her tumors kept getting bigger and bigger. The vets put her on steroids, but I refused chemo and radiation. She ballooned up into a sausage from the drugs and stopped being excited by food, in fact I had to beg her to eat. I went to McDonalds, got cans of tuna and even cooked meat on my stove for that girl. In the end the tumors were obstructing her breathing and each night I would pray that she would pass away in her sleep. That she would be with me in my room and her energy would leave her broken body and I would wake up and know she died peacefully. She got an ear infection, a plight of floppy eared dogs, and at our vet visit they told me that I shouldn’t be taking her home. That her suffering had progressed and my denial was preventing me from seeing how much pain she was in. Noooooo. I layed on the floor of a private room at the vet’s and sobbed. I was there at that very moment she took her last breath, a moment that will both comfort and haunt me for the rest of my life.

You see I rescued her from a shelter. The story was told that she was picked up from a farm in Northern Colorado with 56 other dogs. Apparently people kept dumping their unwanted dogs on a farmer’s property and he did not and could not care for them all. The farmer called the shelter and they picked up all the dogs. On the first night the pups were so flea ridden and mite ridden that they weren’t allowed in the shelter and had to sleep in cages outside.

Then comes me. I had settled down with a guy in Colorado. We were closing on a house and ready to add a pup to the family. I knew that my pup would come from the shelter, so I headed over and started up and down the aisles - cage after cage of pups looking out at me. I knew what I wanted. I wanted a dog. You know, dog. Not lab or collie or bulldog, but dog. And there she was - standing next to an empty cage, waiting in the concrete walkway between the cages – dog.

I took “Smitty” home (that was the name the shelter had assigned her), well after they had a chance to spay her, and I never looked back. Even when she ate some leather shoes, or became super aggressive and tried to bite other dogs’ faces off, I never looked back. Even when I found out that instead of a year old, she was more like 3-5 years old - she had been so malnourished that her teeth never fully developed. Even after all that she was my angel sent from heaven to live with me here on earth.

I was lucky enough to spend 10 ½ love filled years with Winnie. Through thick and thin she was there. I am attached to dogs. All animals really. I know that I got that gene from both sides of my family. My dad’s father was an animal lover as was both my mom’s parents. Even when my mom’s dad was being a stubborn jerk to his kids, he gave their cat unconditional love. I got Christmas presents from my grandparents’ cat. My parents are even worse. My dad likes to talk a big talk, but he has the hugest heart for animals. My mom is the world’s best animal grandmother there is.

I miss Winnie. I miss coming home from a long day at work and there she is – wagging her tail and ready for a walk. I miss those days when I was tired but got off my butt and took her for a walk anyway, only to feel energized. I miss when she would run twice a day and still want more. She’s taken a few of us for a loop! My best friend and roommate at the time, Amy, was dragged across the icy golf course trying to run with Winnie. My mom was dragged and subsequently broke a rib and now has a scar on her knee because Winnie was in attack mode. She would fight and loose. She did have a few best dog friends. She grew up with a Weimeriner and then a Border Collie. She tolerated cats and ferrets. She was a damaged dog. Her early years of neglect left her afraid of brooms, men with hats, balloons, lightening, any loud noise what-so-ever. She was so skittish that when she decided to show you a bit of love you felt honored. Early on when she was still very cautious of men I took her to visit my family in North Carolina. The minute she met my dad she fell in love. My mom and I would go shopping and come home to find my dad and Winnie curled up on the floor sleeping in front of the TV. She knew he was a dog person, she always knew.

It feels good to write about Winnie. Since she died I’ve lived in two third world countries where I see many starving street dogs each day. A bit of my heart is broken each time I see one, but I send out Winnie’s love. Of course if she were here she’d try to bite their face off, but Winnie knows that she is with me and we are looking out for those lost pups and sending them comfort and love in this harsh, harsh world. 

Habitat for Humanity - Bolivia

We have a Habitat for Humanity club at our school. I became involved at the beginning of the year. So far we've been to 3 "builds" around Santa Cruz, but this past week we were able to take 18 of the students on a 6 hour train ride to San Jose de Chiquitos. There are two things I would like to share with you... the students and the HHH trip and the actual town of San Jose.

So let's starts with the students... as most of you know, I've been having a hard time adjusting to the students at my school. Since I started teaching in January 2003 I've been at 4 schools - two inner city, very poor, gang ridden schools, and two private, international, very rich schools. The contrasts are not as vast as you might think... In fact the major issue at all my schools has been parent involvement. Your kids need you - pay more attention to them - create boundaries and rules and stick to them!

Ok, so I don't have my own kids, so you might just call me out on my BS, but I am around kids all day. In Santa Cruz the atmosphere is very different from where I've been before. I've been thinking about how I'm going to possibly make it another school year and dreading the next few months of this one - until this weekend...

You create a group like Habitat for Humanity and instantly weed out the slackers. The kids that show up to the meetings are "typical" teenagers, but somehow different - compassionate, empathetic, mature in a way that most people never reach, never mind teenagers.

So I got on the train and headed east with 18 very cool teenagers. Being with them for the 3 days in not so comfortable conditions has reminded me of why I love doing this - teaching. Spending time with a group of humans - teenagers - that can be mean, hateful and then super nice all in a half hour. People that don't tell you how much you mean to them and could stab you in the back one minute and will send you a valentine in another. These are normal teenager behavior and I have been starting to wonder if I do indeed need to find a new profession - because let me tell you - putting up with your child's BS is tiring. BUT - this trip with this specific group of students was fantastic.

Here is a group of students - not unlike the "typical" teenager, except they are beyond their chronological years in maturity. Not only that, but they are fun, good people. People that I would chose to be around even if I didn't have to. I like them and their energy - even when they want to go to karaoke at midnight :)

I am very grateful for this trip with the students. I needed it - emotionally - and professionally. Here are some photographs of them working...

Now let me tell you about the town of San Jose de Chiquitos itself... Whew. You've seen Slumdog Millionare, right? Well, that is the image that came to my mind while we were making our way from the train station into town. Thin, brown children running shoeless through the streets - laughing and screaming. My first image of the town...

Street dogs, starving, flea ridden souls wandering the streets. Chickens, cats, cows, dirt and more dirt...

And of course - giant bugs...

These bugs were everywhere, crawling around at night. I didn't think to take a picture of one alive, so here you go - a dead whatever. Cockroach-like thing, but look at the huge front pinchers. And it's half the size of my foot! I'm totally fine when they are out and about in nature, but DO NOT come into my hotel room! Make sure you shake out your sheets before getting into bed!

And then of course there is the church. San Jose, like the other mission towns, was inhabited by Jesuit missionaries in the mid 1740s. Along with Catholicism they brought music to these small Bolivian villages. 

Life is very simple, but not in a condescending way. I really don't like being a slave to technology. Yes, I love the internet and having access to a phone, but am really glad I wasn't raised in an age where you are constantly wired. Leave that cell phone at home and venture out - FREE! It feels great to be without technology for a bit. No phone, no internet, no TV!!! This town is super chill. Let's just hang out in the plaza, in the shade and eat a popsicle. 

Right outside of town is a dry jungle. We took the students up to a look out and spent some time playing in nature.

You can see the town of San Jose in the distance...

The original settlement of Santa Cruz de la Sierra (the city I live in now) was outside of San Jose. All that is left is a statue and some crosses. We drove down a dirt road sheltered by lots of trees. Beautiful and peaceful.

Carnival - 2010 - Tarija, Bolivia

If you have me as a friend on facebook, you have probably noticed the ridiculously fun, juvenile time we had during Carnival. My roommates and I decided on going south for festive holiday. We were warned with horror stories that in Santa Cruz people not only threw water balloons and had foam spray, but they also threw ink - yes - like computer cartridge ink and smudged people with shoe polish. Wanting a little fun, but not that kind of fun, we decided to head to a little town called Tarija.

 Tarija is famous for it's grapes and consequently the wine. It's a little, tiny town about a 40 min flight from Santa Cruz. At about 2000 meters the climate is perfect, dry and the altitude helps the grapes ripen a bit faster. Although they celebrate Carnival the rumor was that they did it with a little more class. Perfect.

We arrived early Saturday morning and promptly joined a wine tour. At 9 am we piled in a mini van and cracked open some local wines. We headed out to the "country" and visited three wineries. Saw some amazing geology along the way, got a little buzz and then headed back to town.

Remember my last post, asking the mayoral candidates to take a look at cleaning up the city? Well they need to look to Tarija. What a great, clean, quaint, safe town. If you look on the map you can see that it is very close to Argentina, so the rumor is that it has more influence from the Argentine people than Bolivians, which could explain a lot.

We walked and walked around the city, several times. Headed out to the cemetery in the hope of catching a glimpse of the devil burning that takes place before lent - no luck, but we did get some good pics of the cemetery itself.

Then it was time for the parade. I didn't have my camera so I don't have any of the hilarious pics to post... You'll have to look on facebook!

Oh wait, I just swiped this one from facebook. Doesn't this picture tell it all?

After the parade and getting soaked with water and foam, oh and getting a beer literally poured on my head (apparently it's the "tradition" (we headed out for a walk). Oh, look, there's a Zoo here, let's check it out...

Oh, good, Barney is at the Zoo...

who else?

yup, vultures, I can see that...

who else?

hum, lions? in South America, ok

Who else?

the jaguar - so beautiful. I think she wanted me to pet her...

What else?

yesss, humping turtles...

What a great zoo!

All for the cost of 1 b

pennies

Mayoral Candidates please read...

Dear Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia,

Your city is a dump. I just got back from my walk, yes - I try to keep in shape and exercise to have a better quality of life, and here is what I noticed when I left my gated condomino:

1. Your effort at laying cement for sidewalks seems to have increased, but can you work on actually paving the roads in your city? They dry, dusty dirt is blinding because of the swift winds.

2. There is trash everywhere. Plastic baggies, cans, papers, you name it - it's there.

3. There is a horse that just gave birth to a baby roaming free in the park by my condomino. Yes, they are cute, but who does this horse belong to and why is it by itself?

4. As I entered one of the main roads of the city the smell of putrid, rotting flesh, urine, and all over disgustingness filled my lungs. What is rotting and can you clean it up?

5. Are you aware of how many men are peeing in the streets? On the way home from work last week a little boy was pooping in the canal area. Yes, the canal, that collects the city's heavy rain water and presumably brings it to our faucets. Have you heard of the plague?

6. The cars on your streets do not meet any guideline acceptable to drive. The exhaust is horrendous.

7. Your citizens are rude. I am aware that men can be pigs so I am wearing a 3/4 length shirt to cover my arms, and shorts down to my knees, a hat, sunglasses and headphones. Is it really necessary to honk, whistle and yell at me while I'm walking?

8. What about the bribing problem in the city? A 14 year old boy drives (the "legal" age is 18 here, right), is drunk and gets pulled over by an officer. What happens? The boy offers a bribe of 50 bs and is told to offer more. They boy successfully pays 100 bs ($15) and is off in the car driving drunk and underage.

9. How do you plan to create laws to help your city with the corruption of government offices?

10. The mayoral election of this dumpy city is approaching. What are you going to do?