Ends of the Spectrum

Last week in a long-distance phone-call with my dad, in the midst of me complaining about a lack of air-conditioning and running water, he interrupted me by simply saying “do you need to come home?” After reading some of my blog posts and e-mails I had sent, he was concerned. It seemed to him like I was very scared, very lonely, and very tired. The same day, I got a text from a friend which expressed a sense of jealousy over my “super cool” summer. She had been following my pictures on social media and couldn’t believe how much fun I was having. It seemed to her like work was just one long trip to paradise.

So which version is the truth? The answer is both, but not because my experience is somewhere in the middle of these two realities. As far as personalities go, I am a fairly level-headed individual. I would describe myself as being “complacently contempt” in most situations, rarely experiencing and most definitely not expressing any extremes on the emotional spectrum. (this greatly annoys my mother who often thinks I am incapable of feelings) Here, however, I have found myself opening up to the whole array of possible emotions, subject to change on a whim without a moment’s notice.  I have the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Every moments consists of intense despair, triumph, joy, or humility.

For starters, my office is an amazing place to work. Despite the fact I barely speak their language, my coworkers welcomed me with open-arms into their tight-knit office community of only eight staff-members. They patiently repeat their sentences to me and listen as I fumble around for vocabulary. They talk to me about their families, their beliefs, and their dreams. They bring me chocolate and let me practice driving their motorcycles.  When I go out into the field to bank meetings, the Esperanza clients never fail to invite me into their poverty-stricken homes for hugs, kisses, and a home-cooked meal. The office is never short on laughter or good food and I am so genuinely excited to go to work every morning that I usually arrive thirty minutes early. You can see the mission of Esperanza shine through in every one if its employees and associates, which has made a very powerful statement to me. There are many moments of laughter and many more of extreme humility, where I find myself surrounded by love and faith despite harsh environments.

However, just because I am passionate about my company and surrounded by an incredible team, does not mean that I am fulfilled at every second of the day. I would love to be able to say that I have been able to completely embrace work life and rise above any challenges to reach complete fulfillment, but I am not a saint. I am a human, a flawed and spoiled one at that, who is often frustrated by spotty internet in the office, often disgruntled over having to eat nothing but a plate of rice for lunch, and often lacking the motivation to engage in fruitless conversations in a language I cannot communicate in. There are times where there is no place in the world I would rather be and times where I’d give anything to be anywhere else.

Outside the workplace, I also have a team of community members eager to offer their love and help. I have a host-mom who sneaks into my room in order to wash and fold all my laundry and who is losing sleep over the fact I have not gained enough weight. I have a gang of neighborhood children who eagerly invite me to play stickball and marbles. I have a favorite coffee-shop where I like to sit and read in the afternoons, and where I am often surprised with free cake and cookies. I have a group of middle-aged women who taught me to dance Dominican-style to a Pitbull song.

However, again, I am not perfect. I often find myself alone in my room reading, without the energy to engage in conversation. I often fund myself feeling lonely and friendless without peers to hang out with. I often find myself wanting to go home, just because I really want a hot shower or an hour of reality television.

I also have my wonderful weekend crew of American interns. It’s amazing how close we have gotten after only two months, especially considering we only see each other for two days out of every week. While our time together is short, it is most definitely intense. There is nothing that will bond four radically different kids together like ripping them away from everything they knew to be comfortable. We’ve cliff-jumped. We’ve gone paragliding. We’ve cave-dived. We’ve wasted the day sleeping on the beach. We’ve stayed up all night, pretty much every night we’re together, just talking. We’ve become a family.

The weekends away originally started out as just a fun, much-needed getaway from the work week, which left me exhausted and hungry for English. I figured it would be nice and relaxing to spend time on the water and enjoy tropical paradise. What use would it be coming to the Dominican without a little R&R on the beach? I did not think that I would form such strong friendships with the other interns. I don’t go to TCU and I was only going to be with them for a small fraction of the total trip so, coming into this, it didn’t seem necessary to form more than surface-level friendships. It’s been incredibly shocking to realize that several of my most profound and meaningful moments of the experience have come from conversations with the other interns. I think I have learned just as much from listening to their perspectives and life stories as I have from the Dominican immersion. I have such a deep love and respect for each one of these kids now that, even if our paths do not stay intertwined in the future, the brief time I’ve spent with each of them will leave a deep impact on my life.

My internship has not been without its fair-share of hardship, but I’ve gotten more than my share of fun as well. It would be an outright lie to say that life is just one long spring break here, but I wouldn’t trade a second of it. The good and the bad, the scary and the silly, have worked together to create an unforgettable and life-altering experience that I will be both incredibly heartbroken and ready to say goodbye to come next week. I have learned so much in my time here through building new relationships and adapting to a new reality. I know that I originally came into this program thinking of all the ways I would love to help Esperanza, but in reality I have gained far more from them than they have from me. It has been fun. It has been hard. It has been incredible.

Hear Me Out

Despite speaking two(ish) languages, I find it hard to find words to explain my experience here. How can I explain what has changed, how I feel or any of the countless questions I’ll have to answer? I have no clue! But, I figure I better start working on this now so that I have an answer by the time I get home.

One thing is for sure, I can’t separate my experience from my friendships with my fellow interns, the fellows, host family and office. But, how can I explain the friendships with interns that went from strangers to siblings in no time flat? When we discuss our experiences we didn’t complain and we didn’t romanticize. We simultaneously realized how hard the week was and how easy we had it. We recognized pretty quickly that we weren’t here to leave a legacy, and Esperanza would do more for us than we could ever do for them.

I don’t want the story of this experience to be reduced to bucket showers, mosquito nets and beautiful beaches. One of the interns and I have talked extensively about this issue. How do we make sure that our time here doesn’t just become another travel story? We both studied abroad and have our fair share of travel experiences, but neither of us want working for Esperanza to be reduced to one of these stories. This isn’t a travel story, this story is about the loss of a comfort zone and personal growth.

Can I be honest enough to tell you the good and bad about this experience? Our first weekend reunion another one of the interns shared every ounce of good and bad in his life. He shared without flinching, without apology and without censoring. In sharing his mistakes, he revealed the importance of accepting the grace of God. In his blatant honesty, he demonstrated the importance of accepting that we are all human. In his vulnerability, he epitomized confidence. Can I be honest enough to tell you the good and bad about this experience? Only if you promise to hear me out.

Hear me out. My experience is not about material poverty, nor is it about how I saved the world. I have experienced discomfort, sickness, joy, relief, fear, and love, to name a few, while I have been here. I have not experienced poverty. Even if I was living without any access to water, electricity or food, I would not truly be living in poverty because living in those conditions would be a choice. At any time, I could reach out to my parents, or countless family members and friends, and they would bring me home in a heartbeat. People living below the poverty line don’t have a choice. Poverty it is not just a physical experience; there is a psychological and spiritual component that originates from the lack of security and stability. This is why Esperanza is so important.

Esperanza takes a holistic approach to helping their associates. They use financial services as a way to access the community, but they also make a difference through the additional services they offer. Esperanza tries to minister to the mind, body and spirit of their clients and their families through a variety of services, but one of the ones that sticks out to me the most is how the loan officers listen. Don’t get me wrong, there is definitely some tough love going on, but most of the clients I have talked to tell me that the difference between Esperanza and other banks is that they care for their clients, and they listen. Simply by listening, Esperanza is telling them that they matter.

How have I grown? The difference between knowing something, seeing something and living something has been emblazoned in my mind. When I got here I knew a lot of Spanish; I knew a lot about the clashing of cultures; I knew the effects of American consumption and culture on developing nations, and I knew how to live abroad. In less than 5 days every single one of those assertions failed me. I hope that I remember to walk humbly when I am talking about something I know a lot about, but have never seen outside of the comfort of my classroom, home, or the plush seats of a movie theater. There is a difference between knowing and living, and we can’t forget that.

The most important thing I want my friends and family to know is that my living conditions and internship don’t make me a hero. In reality, I will probably leave very little impact on Esperanza as a company, though not through lack of hard work. In return, they have enabled a priceless experience that affected every part of my life. My career goals, marketable skills, spirituality, self-perception, confidence, ability to relate to people, and so much more have been changed for the better and forever.

Finally Standing

I grew up in San Clemente, California. It’s a beautiful, tight-knit community, and I live around ten minutes from the beach.

I currently attend Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas. It’s safe, a blast, and represents the classic “college experience.”

These two cities hold 20 years of my life in their collective hands; and each of them have collectively created a perfect little bubble.

This summer, I am living in the Dominican Republic. My rent is 270 dollars a month and it covers my food and living accommodations.  During the week, I am living on anywhere between 5-10 dollars a day. I have spent hours upon hours in “el campo”, witnessing the day to day life of those living on far less than 5-10 dollars a day.

Sometimes I wonder if my ringtone is “bubbles popping”, because it feels like that is all I am doing this summer. This summer has exposed me to a different perspective on life and a different way to do life.

Throughout this summer, a quote from Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle has maintained its relevance and impact.

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“The strategy of Jesus is not centered in taking the right stance on issues, but rather in standing in the right place.”

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Currently, in both the Dominican Republic and the United States, a tremendous amount of conversation continues to arise concerning whether or not someone is taking the right stance.

The Dominican Republic political conversation continues to be debated about the proposal of legalizing gay marriage, the deportation of Haitians, and many other political topics. In the DR, conversation continues to remain heated on guaguas, in the office, and at the dinner table.

The United States continues to take rise to heated debate over the legalization of gay marriage and the seemingly growing division between the two sides. In the United States, conversations centered on people declaring their stance and why their stance is correct continue to emerge on social media. Feelings are exchanged and feelings are hurt.

I have spent hours reading and talking about these emerging topics in both countries.

     What is my stance?

     Why is that my stance?

Yet, throughout my time here, I have spent a majority of my time pondering the implications of poverty and education, much more than these other topics. That is because, frankly, these topics are relevant in terms of where I am standing. I continue to see the need for education and the importance of providing a sense of hope for those in poverty, because those are what my experiences are revealing. I am seeing how Esperanza is providing access to both education and hope. I have heard story after story of the associates of Esperanza: their struggles and their successes, their hopes and their dreams. I am hearing, learning, seeing, and experiencing. As a result, I feel like I can relate.

In terms of poverty and education, I believe that for once in my life,  I am finally standing in the right place, rather than worrying about if I am taking the right position.

But I would not be standing in the right place, if I did not pop my ‘comfy’ bubble. The bubble I grew up in, and the bubble I attend college in, they are comfy. Yet, their perspective is limited.

Stepping out of my comfort zone did not just help me to better understand the difficulty of a life in poverty and the importance of education – it was necessary. My time in the DR with Esperanza has opened my eyes to the beauty of Jesus’s strategy.

Yet, from the majority of what I read in the United States, it appears many people are not popping their bubble. They are remaining inside their ‘comfy’ bubble.  Regardless of the person’s position, the majority are crafting their opinions to receive support from those that already agree with them.

Very few seem to be focused on where they are standing.

Before my time with Esperanza, the importance of this approach would have surpassed my understanding. Looking forward, I rest in the freedom that I do not need to stress as much about my stance, as much as I need to focus more on my feet.

I want to focus on whether or not I am listening. Jesus listened, to the people He agreed and disagreed with.

I want to focus on where I am standing; Jesus sat in the synagogue, with the Pharisees and with the tax collector.

Praise the Lord, because the strategy of His ministry is forever more relevant than my opinion can ever be.

A Day in the Life

My day starts promptly at 4:30 AM. There is no need for an alarm clock here in the DR, thanks to the lovely gang of roosters who hang outside my window. Since there is no going back to sleep once my bird friends decide to give me a wakeup call, I typically roll of out bed (drenched in sweat from a 90 degree, no AC kind of night), grab my sneakers, and head out for a quick run. Back in the States, I love running. I’m one of those freaks who can enjoy 10 miles before class or break a six minute mile without breaking a sweat.Here on the island, not so much. Considering I’ve resorted to sprinting down the boardwalk while crying hysterically in terror as stray dogs chase after me, morning runs have quickly turned from my daily dose of therapy to my very own personal nightmare. The fact that pedestrians have ZERO right of way or that I live on top of a monstrous hill does not help my case either. If I wasn’t habitually ingesting my body weight in rice and pina coladas, I probably would skip exercise entirely; but, alas, at least I’m building character.

After my pathetic excuse for a run, I head straight to the shower to check whether or not my house has running water that day. It’s very hit or miss in the Dominican, so the answer is often no and I must opt for the handy shower bucket or half a pack of baby wipes in order to rinse off. My host mom, Sara, is a bomb cook and she has declared it her mission from God to put some meat on my shrimpy frame so breakfast usually consists of a delicious spread of coffee, fruit, a homemade smoothie, and three grilled cheese sandwiches.

I usually get to the office just in time for the morning meeting—although I could not tell you in the least what is discussed. I naively thought I would come into this internship and quickly pick up Spanish out of pure necessity and immersion. Unfortunately, over a month has gone by and that has not been my experience. Progress is slow with a capital S. I developed a habit of rotating a response of “no comprendo” “no entiendo” or simply “Que???” after every question thrown my way that isn’t “Como estas?” My Connecticut accent is probably the sorriest thing you have ever heard speaking Dominican Spanish because nobody ever has the slightest clue what I’m saying. Even when I know I am talking 100% grammatically correct, Dominicans never understand a word coming out of my mouth. You cannot imagine how discouraging it is to carefully plan out a simple statement only to be met with the response of “no hablo ingles.” It takes every ounce of self-control my body has to not lurch forward and scream “I’M NOT SPEAKING ENGLISH!!”

After the morning meeting, I head out to conduct my interviews in the field. (I discussed this practice & its impact on me in great detail in my previous blog post) I’m typically back in the office around 2:00 PM, just in time for lunch. My coworkers cook a communal meal, which, unfortunately for me, limits my vegetarian options to a line-backer portion of plain rice and, if I’m really lucky, a side of beans. After turning myself into a rice dumpling, the remainder of my day is spent using my photos and interviews to create written stories and marketing material for Esperanza to use in attracting donors. Thankfully, I get to do all my writing in English, which makes my job a lot easier. I genuinely love the work I’m doing and the organization I work for, so I’m never bored gathering or creating content. I’m really excited about the fusion between a financially-based company and the more creative/writing-intensive aspects of my job. It’s made me think a lot about my future and different career opportunities I might be able to apply my accounting degree towards.

After work, I like to treat myself to an ice-cream cone and sit on the pier while taking in the gorgeous Caribbean scenery. The blue waters, the white sand, the lush green coconut trees—it never gets old. I end my day with another fantastic (usually fried) meal prepared by Sara and an episode of Caso Cerrado (think Latina Judge Judy meets Dr. Phil meets Divorce Court). My host family has two kids around my age, but we’ve long since exhausted all 3 possible conversations I’m capable of conducting in Spanish so after an episode or two I usually retire to my room. Since I have no Wifi and little electricity, I spend a couple chapters holed up in my mosquito net with a flashlight and Atlas Shrugged before passing out from exhaustion—at 8:30 pm.

Life in Hato Mayor

Hato Mayor is neither a big city nor a tourist destination. It is one of those towns where everyone knows everyone, and at night people sit on their front porches or at a colmado and talk to their neighbors, family and friends. It took me a little while to feel like I was a part of the community, but I am really enjoying finding my place in the day to day life.

5 Things that make my day:

1. The old women that go to Mass. The ritual of Mass is always comforting for me, but there is something about worshiping along with 20 or so Dominican grandmas that takes comfort to a new level. None of them break 5 feet, all of them are over 60, and each of them has her own way of fussing over me and loving on me. They make sure to squeeze me during the peace be with you, and one even brought me candy! These women know how to love, and I love receiving it!!
2. Lunches with Julyssa. Julyssa is the glue to my office. I am convinced that if she wasn´t here, the whole office would fall apart. We eat lunch together every day and just talk. I love hearing about her family, growing up in the DR, and her opinions on world issues. She is incredibly smart and faithful, and a great example of a good listener. I am very blessed that every day I have a great date for lunch.
3. Cards with Mari. After watching Mari, my host mom, and the neighbor play Casino for a couple of days, Mari insisted that I learn. We sat on the front porch and she explained every step to me. Casino is pretty simple to play, so I thought I was doing great our first few games. But every time Mari scored the round, I lost miserably. Every time, she explained the scoring to me again, and we would play. For over a week we would play through the whole game, Mari would score and I would lose every single hand. This had to be boring for Mari, but she never let on. She would explain the scoring again, and we would play. I don’t know who was happier the first time I won, Mari or me! Now we both enjoy our nightly ritual of sitting in the rocking chairs, playing Casino and watching the world go by. I try to take in every moment, because I know I won’t be able to recreate this in the States.
4. Running around the Play. I can´t say this an everyday occurrence, but it is definitely a fun one. I always seem to have a companion when I run around the play (baseball field). Sometimes it is Mari´s granddaughter and her friends, other times it is older women who are walking the play, and yesterday it was a little Chihuahua. The girls sit and watch me, the old women smile as we pass and the dog just made me laugh. But it is always fun. I have never been a fan of running without music or in circles, but not having music has allowed me to engage the other people and encouraging environment of the play. The girls always say they will run with me the next time, and although it has never happened, I really hope it does. I can’t imagine anything that would make my run more entertaining than 5 or 6 running companions that are quite sassy and half my size.
5. Charlas with Chi Chi. Chi Chi is my host dad,  and when Mari is at church, we sit on the porch, rock back and forth, and chat. He has become my informant for all things Dominican and baseball related and is the most concerned that I have a “true Dominican” experience. He will not be content until I can dance the bachata and merengue, have seen the family campo or understand the importance of baseball.

Hato Mayor is nothing flashy. It is not one of the places you have to see before you die, nor does it make the list of hidden gems in the Dominican Republic. But, it does have a strong sense of community. Neighbors and friends are always checking in on one another. The neighborhoods are filled with pick-up games of baseball, kids on bikes pulling kids on rollerblades, and people enjoying some of Mari’s coconut ice cream. Hato Mayor may not be glamorous, but it is beautiful, and I am thankful that get to be a part of it.

Redefining Adventure

Before my time in the Dominican Republic, I had a distorted view of this “adventure” that everyone rants and raves about. At the age of 20 years old, I have rarely ventured outside of my “San Clemente/Fort Worth” bubble. My “traveling adventures” consisted of the occasional trip to visit family in Canada, and two family vacations – one to Costa Rica and one with the Savage family to Mexico. As a result of my limited experience, I defined adventure through the Instagram and Facebook pictures my friends posted. I defined adventure through eye-capturing, jealousy-invoking and adrenaline-pumping moments.

After two weeks in the Dominican Republic, however, I finally realized the extreme to which social media distorted how I viewed adventure. I never considered that adventure would include those “trials” that are discussed in the book of James, because, I mean, look at how fun everyone’s pictures are on social media. Yet, it is because of my trials that I have cringed at my own social media posts that captured the time I spent paragliding, cliff jumping, and canyoning. Ultimately, those just do not capture this experience, nor accurately represent it.

My time in the DR will be marked much more so by the day to day trials.

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My host mom, Angelita, is what some may call a “straight shooter.” During our first conversation, I spent around forty-five seconds attempting to retrieve a word from my extensive Spanish vocabulary. Finally, I pleaded guilty and asked if I could use my translator. Angelita just gave me a friendly wave, a smile – and left the room.

Since then, I am ashamed to report that Angelita is not the only person I have annoyed with my incompetent Spanish. You can definitely add every person in the office to that list.

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My first night, I laid in my bed listening to the screeching siren that was my fan. Around an hour later, it was no surprise to hear the fuse blow its last breath; but when you’re tired, you’re tired. So I closed my eyes and shrugged it off. The next morning, I woke up in the deepest sweat of my life. I took three steps and almost blacked out from dehydration.

Thankfully, Angelita did not let our language barrier interfere with her motherly care.

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I suppose I would define the water here as inconsistently consistent. The water is sometimes running and it is sometimes not (inconsistent), but it is always cold (consistent).

As a result of the water’s inconsistency, the toilets are not particularly powerful. So, it is very important to not flush your toilet paper. Somehow, I keep forgetting this, and each time I forget is another time I must retrieve my wet (perhaps used) toilet paper.

As a result of the water’s consistency, I have discovered a new strategy. I turn off my fan, let myself really soak up the nice, humid air that the climate has to offer, and only when my body is a few degrees above 98.7 do I hop underneath that glorious shower head.

Thankfully, I live in a middle class home here in the Dominican Republic, as a shower and electricity are blessings many Dominicans do not have access to.

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I was with a group of visitors from the United States. As we observed a Bank of Esperanza meeting, three children could be distinctly heard yelling “Americanos, Americanos!” It was cute, so I waved. The one boy, around 6 or 7, pointed at my camera. I asked if he would like for me to take a picture, and the boy nodded. As I walked toward the three children, the youngest girl, somwhere between 2 and 3 years old and cute as a button, released the most blood curling scream I have ever heard. Naturally, I considered what she was afraid of – am I holding something? Who is behind me? Where are the cockroaches? The screaming continued, and her eyes remained lock on the source of her terror – me. She had literally never been so close to a person that looked like me – and it terrified her.

Thankfully, I have a new nickname because of my skin color – Gringo!

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These unique moments, marked by the differences in language, living accommodations, and physical appearance, have come to truly define this adventure I have embarked upon in the Dominican Republic. It has not always been fun in these moments, or “social media worthy.” Yet, in the “social media worthy” moments I have experienced, I have not learned anything that will have a lasting impact; I am not learning from the stereotypical ‘adventures’; I am not learning about life and myself when adventure is fun.

I am learning when this adventure pushes me beyond my personal comfort zone; I am learning when this adventure challenges my perspective; and I am learning when this adventure provides me with the free time to reflect.

At the beginning of this journey, I defined adventure through eye-capturing, jealousy-invoking and adrenaline-pumping moments.

Now, I am redefining adventure through the scope of its personally-challenging, perspective-shifting, and “San Clemente/Fort Worth” bubble-popping experiences.

And boy oh boy, am I thankful for how this experience has redefined my definition of adventure, because there is a lot more to learn and a lot more opportunity to grow when adventure is redefined.

“Adventure does not always include a step up a mountain, off of a cliff, or into the deep seas, but rather demands a step outside of your comfort zone.”

– Some Anonymous, 20 year old, rising junior business student at TCU

Comfort

The definition of comfort:

·       1. a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint

·       2. things that contribute to physical ease and well-being

·       3. prosperity and the pleasant lifestyle secured by it

We all strive to achieve this feeling of ease and security, because the want to be comfortable in our surroundings is an innate desire for all humans. Comfort is a concept that I think many of us take for granted, or at least I realized that I have been while in the Dominican Republic, struggling to find normalcy in a new life much different from the one at home.   I often feel like a fish out of water, walking around in a city of over a million people, yet I don’t know a single person my age that speaks more than a few phrases of English.  From my morning shower to the time I go to bed, very little of my day is normal or what I am used to, but when comparing what my idea of comfort is to that of many of the associates of Esperanza the differences are baffling.

Let’s start with comfort as the state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint. At home, everything is for the most part easy going.  I go to a great school where I am surrounded by a not so diverse crowd, for the most part looking the same(ish) and coming from similar backgrounds as myself.  I have never been truly alone or that uncomfortable many times in my life.  By far this trip has been the loneliest, most uncomfortable time of my life (but also the best).  I miss the basic comforts of having my IPhone, hanging out with my friends, being around my family, eating familiar food, and most of all speaking English.  It’s not easy at times being the only gringo; people stare and wonder why you are there when they walk past.  The terrible reality is that there are millions of Dominicans that are in the U.S. and Haitians in the Dominican who feel the same way as I do.  The difference is that I go home in a month, and in reality I could whenever I wanted to.  I’m here by choice, not forced by economic strains on my family.  Dominicans and Haitians both leave their own country, all their possessions, and their families for the chance to find work.  They are just like me, foreigners, looked at differently and missing home, but I have a job in an office, am here by choice, go back to a loving host family, and travel the country on a whim on the weekends having the time of my life.  They gather the small amount of money they have to buy a cart to be a street vendor or open a small shop to send money back to their family back home.  I am still free and constrained by nothing other than a contract; they are constrained by the ever-tightening grip of poverty. When looked at from this perspective, my measly discomforts become miniscule.

Lets move on to things that bring us comfort. Back home in the states, I am more than blessed and now looking back, spoiled may be a better word.  The basic things that put me at ease such as a hot shower, air conditioning, electricity, etc. I realized were not common in the DR.  My daily routine back at home starts by waking up in the morning in my own bed, covered by all my sheets, but of course the fan is on above me going full blast, as well as the constant air conditioning to make my sleeping conditions just perfect.  I walk out of bed to my own bathroom, turn on my shower that gets scalding hot in seconds, and I can stand in the shower for hours and not worry about running out of hot water.  I go to my sink, brush my teeth with the water from the tap, and start my day.  I had a rude awakening waiting for me when I arrived to the DR.  Even though I live in a middle class home here, right by the ocean, electricity and running water are in no way a guarantee every day.  Three or four times a week the power goes out, leaving everyone sweating bullets, and water runs only at certain times of the day.  To combat the water problem, my host family keeps a giant bucket in the shower so one could do a sponge shower.  Water from the tap is not drinkable anywhere in the Dominican, so families buy big 5-gallon water jugs for drinking.  I have gotten used to sleeping on just a mattress because even a sheet would make my sweating too much to handle, and the bugs that come in through my window don’t bother me much any more.  My two showers a day at home have turned into once a day or every other day, and I have learned how to time using the bathroom more wisely.  Sadly, these slight discomforts I am going through this summer are nothing compared to the lives of 41% of the Dominicans that live under the poverty line.

I was fortunate enough to be able to go to a bank meeting with the founder of Esperanza, Dave Valle.  In the meeting there were other visitors as well, looking around the associate’s house, which sparked the question from Mr. Valle as to if the owner of the house had running water.  The response blew me away and put shame on my complaints I have thought about in my head over the past month.  Responding without hesitation the woman told us that not only her house, but also the whole community was lucky to have running water once every five days.  On top of this, access to clean drinking water did not come everyday, due to the rural location of the community.  The few fans that were in place to cool the house are useless most of time, because in this part of the island electricity is out more often than not.  There are countless situations such as this that I have seen, in which I have been extremely humbled and been forced to change my perspective on living conditions of those outside of my bubble in the States.

For the last part of the definition of comfort I’m going to take a different approach on it than the first two.  From all that I have already said, you can see that a lot of the associates of Esperanza are impoverished, so speaking to the comparison between the meaning of prosperity and the pleasant life of people in the DR to the US or myself is pointless.  But what I do want to touch on is how witnessing the associates and the joy that they have in their lives and hope they have for the future has changed me.  Some of these men and women will never qualify as living comfortably by American standards, but then again you must know that the definition of living comfortably cannot be generalized.  So many associates I have spoken too are simply at peace that they are able to feed their children everyday, and send them to school, and have a roof that they can sleep under at night.  This is living comfortably for so many in the world.  The rest of the comfort they have, which is shown through their exuberance and joy to work and live in their less than desired environment, is the comfort they have in the fact that there God has a place saved for them one day, with all the amenities they could ever dream of.

In closing, God has put me here for a reason, and it has become clearer everyday.  I don’t think someone has to go to a third world country to find themselves, or to be awakened that there are those less fortunate than some of us. I also don’t want people reading this to think that there is something wrong with being blessed or having money, because that is not what this blog is about.  For me, though, I know I am here so that I can be forced out of my comfort zone.  I can’t hide in my fortunate circumstances, blinded by how blessed I am.  I think that I do this all the time and rather than finding comfort in the things that matter most in life, I attempt to find comfort in things of this world.  God has used the associates and my entire experience here to reveal where one finds true comfort in life, and it is not of this Earth, no matter if you live in the batey’s cutting sugar canw all your life for a dollar a day, or if you are a kid from a great family who is a finance major at TCU trying to get a big job out of college.  Comfort comes from the big man upstairs and the future he has offered to us all, and sometimes it takes a push into uncomfortable situation to realize this.

First Week Observations: Motoconchos, Qué lo qué and Starches

From the very minute I hopped off the plane 45 minutes late in Santo Domingo, I realized that my two months in the Dominican Republic were going to be an adventure.  Over the past week that I have been here, I have made some observations on things about the country and living here that no one could possibly prepare you for before you arrive.

First off…

The Driving

Driving, if you can call it that, is a nightmare in the Dominican.  Lanes have no meaning.  A variety of different cars weave between the lanes and obstacles along the road, or my personal favorite, drive evenly right along divider between the two lanes.  The scariest drivers of all are the motoconchos, moto-taxis, that daringly squeeze between traffic as fast as possible slinging there two or three passengers latched on their back along with them.  Streetlights are quite useless due to the fact that red means go, green means go, and so does yellow. The same could be said about one way streets where cars drive whichever way they please.   Lastly, you will never find public transportation drivers as willing to pack as many people in a vehicle at once, especially the gua-guas, the public bus system, or carros publicos, kind of like a taxi but imagine riding in a 1970’s Nissan with the door broken packed with 7  people including the driver.  The street names for the most part are not marked and the roads are like the wild west, but with an abundance of public transportation, there is always a way to get around saving you from having to drive yourself.

Spanish

For all of my 15 years as a student I have taken some quantity of Spanish each year.  Coming into the Dominican I knew I was not fluent in the least bit and that I would have some struggles, but I thought I could hold my own for the most part.  I have never been so humbled in my life.  As my co-workers in my branch office say, “Agustin” (or some version of Austin) you speak English, pretty good Spanish, but we are going to have to work on your Dominican”.  The Spanish that is spoken on the island is unlike anything I have ever heard before.  Full of slang, a unique vocabulary to only Dominicans, and spoken so fast that people rarely say any of the “s'” at the end of a word.  I was blown away my first day hearing the language, not even knowing how to say what’s up, which turns about to be “Que lo que” or “Como te ‘ta”.  After a week of struggling I am starting to catch more and more, but for the next month and a half I have a lot to learn.

Starches

It is a well-known fact to most to all coming down to the Dominican that most meals will consist of rice and beans with a type of meat, but what I was not prepared for was in one of my first meals was a massive portion of rice, beans and fried chicken with a side of arroz coco, a different type of rice.  Starches are vital to the diet of every Dominican and it rare for any meal to be without a large plate of rice, potatoes, yucca, or plantains.

People and Culture

Dominicans are hands down the most open and loving culture of people I have ever been around in my life. Always willing to give you directions to an address you gave them in broken Spanish (even if they don’t know where the place is), forcing food and hospitality onto you, they are truly amazing people. As it is my first time basically alone in a different country, the experience has proved to be more difficult than I had imagined at first. There are times that are lonely, times that I am homesick, and times where I miss the modern luxuries that I take for granted at home, but the wonderful God-fearing people around me help me through these times. From my host family to my coworkers in the office, every person has made me feel welcome and comforted, making this new and scary experience not so frightening anymore. I am excited to see what God has in store for me this trip, and look forward to how I will be changed in the next two months.

The Impact of Loneliness

Before accepting this internship in the Dominican Republic, I had always considered myself to be fairly comfortable with being on my own. I don’t think any of my friends would mistake me for being overly chatty, or even particularly social, and it is not uncommon for me to take on new interests/challenges with a fierce sense of independence. I was prepared for a lot of hardships during my time here—thievery, poverty, malaria, and the works. I was not prepared for this intense feeling of loneliness.

Before I delve into some of the more difficult aspects of my new job, I do want to get one thing straight—working for Esperanza is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. This past year at Wake was a particularly difficult time for me in regards to academia and personal growth, as I saw my motivation and creative curiosity take a complete nosedive as I progressed towards an accounting degree. My short time with Esperanza so far has been the catapult I was looking for to put me back on track and re-spark my appreciation for the fantastic education I have been afforded. Seeing nearly every course I have taken in the business school applied on a small scale to a growing business in an international setting with a nonprofit core has been incredibly eye-opening, and has allowed me to see my major in a new, exciting light. For the first time, I am in a setting where I can combine my business skills with my love for writing and adventure and, I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty cool.

That being said, this immersive experience is by far the most difficult and fundamentally challenging opportunity I have ever endured. My job entails a lot of daily travel where I get to speak with some amazing locals about their lives, their struggles, and their dreams. Witnessing various extremes of poverty on such a personal, up close level has given me a lot to think about as I find myself constantly evolving my previous definitions of abstract ideals such as humility, determination, love, and security.

The intensity of my last few weeks is greatly exasperated by my limited means of communication. Nobody in my daily life speaks a lick of English. Nobody I encounter during interviews. Nobody in my office. Nobody in my homestay. Nobody in my town. My Spanish comprehension and speaking abilities are limited to the most basic of needs, giving me zero opportunity to express any of the whirlwind of emotions I have been experiencing. It is excruciatingly isolating to sit in a meeting, on a bus, or at a dinner table where everybody is talking and laughing around you and you cannot understand a word.  Loneliness comes not from being alone, but from the acute awareness of being an outsider. From not speaking the language, to not knowing the customs, to not looking the same, my lack of belonging has simultaneously manifested itself into a constant state of both fear and courage. Living in a home with little personal communication, no internet access, and limited electricity has given me an endless supply of quality thinking and reading time. My work in the field certainly provides me significant material for reflection, and it is both massively beneficial and enormously disturbing to have no distractions from your own thoughts.

An unexpected source of inspiration and self-awareness came this weekend when I made the three hour bus ride back to Santo Domingo to catch up with the other American interns. After we spent the week in our various cities and offices, I was greatly looking forward to the chance to relax, speak some English, and goof around in the Caribbean. While we certainly had a great time hitting the beach and laughing at each other’s stories of motoconcho rides, plumbing mishaps, and mysterious water-borne illnesses, the short trip was more than just a fun get-away from the more challenging days at work. With a unique bond of common experience and a newfound appreciation for the English language, the gift of communication was not wasted. There was something innocently genuine and Breakfast-Club reminiscent about four extremely unlikely new friends sitting on a hostel rooftop until four a.m. while playing cards and discussing everything from faith to politics to love without a hint of insincerity. As a notoriously closed-off individual, it normally takes me half a lifetime to warm up to others, so I was greatly surprised to find myself enjoying such honest and open conversations with a group of virtual strangers, but the candid earnestness and respect each vastly different kid showed for one another was the perfect supplement to the personal growth and change that has already started to take place after only a few weeks within the organization. While the work and living is hard here, it has already started to impact my world perspective and I am excited to see how I will continue to evolve over the next couple of months.

 

Humbled and Hopeful

Before I arrived in the Dominican Republic, my prayer for this summer was for God to show me himself in a new way, to humble me, and to keep me safe on the adventure. I hesitate to say this because I have a feeling that God is just getting going, but this has already one of the hardest and most humbling adventures of my life, and I am only 13 days in. Let me be very clear though, hard does not equate to bad, especially not here.

Back to the Beginning

When I told my high school Spanish teacher that I wanted to study Spanish in college, he couldn’t hide his surprise; he knew very well that I struggled through his courses and Spanish did not come naturally to me. But, after spending last semester in Spain, I came to the Dominican armed with a confidence in my Spanish ability that I had never had before, and man, it felt good. Until I had my first conversation with Rafael, who picked us up from the airport. I honestly had no idea what he was saying. It could have been Kreyol, for all I knew.

Once I got to Hato Mayor, the Spanish became harder to understand, and I became very frustrated in the first few days. How had I come so far, just to be brought back to the beginning? But, the more frustrated and flustered I got in the office, the less I understood and the worse I spoke. I found myself wracking my brain for old grammar lessons, for vocab, for anything I had stored up. How could my Spanish be failing me now?

“And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us.”

 – 1 John 5:14

Now, I am going back to the beginning with Spanish instead of getting frustrated. Some days I feel like I am back at McKinney Boyd High School with Senor Volenik, struggling through the most basic of concepts, but this means also means I’m back to putting my confidence in God instead of myself. Already changing the source of my confidence has been liberating. I’m still making mistakes left and right, but now I laugh, take note, and continue talking.

Esperanza means Hope

The best part of about working for Esperanza so far has been the constant reminder that the world is bigger than me and other people working in the Esperanza offices. The world we see may be dominated by the decisions of powerful nations and companies, but there are so many people who dismiss that part of that world. Yes, their living circumstances and economic poverty is a direct result of the consumerism and decisions of these same nations and companies, but the associates that I have talked to don’t spend their time talking about that. Rather, they tell me about how their lives are changing. They tell me about their families, their businesses and the blessings of God. They aren’t spending any time complaining or asking for handouts, at least not to me. Instead we talk about hope.

I don’t want to romanticize these women. They have very hard lives, some of the hardest I have ever seen. Some live in Bateys and sell roasted peanuts as their business, while others have saved up enough over time to build a nice house or pay for their kids to go to school. But they are still human. They complain about the heat, joke around, balance work and raising kids. I have so much respect for them because they have not given up because they were dealt a hard hand. Instead, they have become stronger and more faithful because of it. If I could choose one thing to learn from them before I leave, it would be how to hope in the Lord like they do.

“But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31

I am only 13 days into this great adventure, and I am already learning so much. I can’t imagine what the next month and a half holds, nor am I sure that I want to try. God’s plan for me here is undoubtedly better than anything I could plan, and all I can say is that I am excited!