I’ve had a very busy couple of weeks. A
group of American volunteers have been visiting La Hoya and running sports camps
for the village’s youth: basketball for boys and volleyball for the girls.
(I’ve developed the bad habit of referring to them as “The Americans”, not
because they’re more American than others but because that’s what all the
Dominicans here call them.) The volunteers didn’t speak Spanish, so all the
COPA volunteers have been working as translators to help them run their camps. I spent a Friday and Sunday working with
Suraya, the woman who was running the girl’s volleyball camp.
I’ve also started practicing with the
woman’s volleyball team, after their coach and one of the school’s PE teachers
invited me to play. On Sunday, we all went to the nearby town of Cabral to play
against Fundacion and Cabral
Practice was an interesting experience. Our
warm-up lap is simply two loops around the central park in the middle of the
village, with whoever’s outside watching. Not a lot happens in La Hoya , so volleyball practice
tends to attract a small crowd of children and even adults who sit outside and
watch. We warm up a little, do a few stretches and a couple drills, all in a
semi-organised fashion while the team shout cat-calls and insults at Ares, the
man who is nominally our coach, although whose control over the “team” of about
24 women seems tenuous at best. Then we’re split into four rough teams and play
a rotating game, with the winner staying on and the losing team going off. I say “rough teams” because women come and go
as they pass babies around or lose interest. Play is regularly suspended as
men, children, dogs, bicycles and babies wonder across the court, which is
little more than a badly laid square of concrete in the parque. Everyone is
inconsistent skill-wise. Most women are pretty good but don’t try particularly
hard. I can see why, because while jumping high might get you the point, if you
fall wrong on the concrete you could break your ankle and an injury like that
could be life-threatening and very expensive here. Few women have had anything
like consistent coaching. The games are regularly interrupted by someone who’s
not on the team randomly joining play. The sides of the court aren’t equal in
size and electrical wires hang over one end, making aiming your serve extra
difficult. There are no painted lines, making disputes over in and out
particularly fervent.
For younger girls, finding a ball to play
with is a constant struggle. I often see girls attempting to play volleyball
with semi-flat basketballs, an experience I find traumatising on my wrists.
There’s one basketball court in town,
called “la cancha”, a big grass field called “el play” and the central parque
near the town’s largest colmado. The women’s volleyball practice is held in the
central parque, basically a flat area of concrete vaguely in the centre of the
village. Practice “starts” at 4 and “finishes” at 6, but these numbers are lies
made up by Dominicans to trick foreigners, as are all times in this
country. Practice actually starts at
4:30 or 5 and usually doesn’t finish until 7, although different women play
throughout practice, as different people show up, are called away to look after
babies or simply wander off. Our practice on Wednesday was paused momentarily
when a 7th grader stole our volleyball and Ares was needed to go
chasing after him. Although Ares referees our games, we occasionally have to
pause when his phone rings or a friend of his drives by. To serve from one side
of the “court” you have to step off the parque and into the street, keeping a
wary eye out for motorbikes, children on bicycles and dogs.
People play sports in whatever clothes they
think might work, which can be anything from a dress and flip-flops to neon
green leggings and a tank top. Most women play in hairnets, although some play
in curlers or head clothes. Most seem to just play in their normal day clothes
and although Ares expressively forbids wearing sandals to practice, he’s mostly
ignored.
Even with all these difficulties and
problems, sports are really a passion here. There’s also a men’s softball team
and baseball team here in La Hoya
and a men’s basketball team. Boys spend their spare time playing basketball,
girls volleyball and both genders basterdized versions of baseball, called
“pelota” (literally translating as “ball”) here in the south.
I’m really looking forward to playing more
with the woman’s volleyball team. Although practice is not nearly as demanding
as I remember practice being at ISA, it comes with its own share of dangers!
