For the past few days, I feel like I’ve been adding up an invisible balance sheet in my head; weighing the things I am going to miss about living in beautiful Samaná against the things I am excited to get home too. “Fresh mangos”, I tick off on one side of the sheet, as I chomp down on a perfectly sweet, perfectly ripe mango for breakfast on the way to work. I get to the office and the power is off…. again. “Reliable electricity”, I think, and put a mental check on the other side of the sheet. I sit down in my chair and immediately start to sweat, deciding to add “air conditioning” to the list, just for good measure.
I can’t believe that in less than a week I’ll be returning to the U.S. I remember how I was feeling almost exactly two months ago, when I first arrived here. I was overwhelmed, to say the least, with so many new sounds, smells, words, and feelings. I think about how I’m feeling now… Still overwhelmed, I decide. My breath still catches in my chest every time I whip around a sharp corner on the back of a motorcycle, even though I do this several times a day. I still lie in bed at night and marvel at the beauty of the fireflies and the symphony of the jungle outside as I fall asleep. I still have moments where someone speaks to me and I just stare at them, completely at a loss for understanding what they said. I still feel like I want to punch some of the guys that catcall me, and I still don’t like plantains. I still can’t believe the way the girls in the discoteca can get their bodies to move. I still find the view of the sun setting over the sea almost too beautiful to bear. I’ve gotten more comfortable in this country, but I’ve never stopped wondering at it.
Esperanza International is no exception to this rule. In fact, I marvel at the work Esperanza does infinitely more now than I did when I first got here. Which is saying something, considering that I applied to this internship with my passion for Esperanza’s mission being my only marketable skill- I had very little experience, questionable Spanish skills, and no finance background whatsoever. Esperanza must’ve seen my uninformed passion as an asset when they decided to hire me. Because that has not changed; I’ve stayed passionate about this idea, that poor women can save themselves (and their husbands, children, and communities) from the oppression of poverty without the demoralization that results from wholesale charity. The difference is, now I have a reason to be passionate about this cause.
The reason is that I have seen it work. I have seen, with my own eyes, Esperanza’s model of transformational development help women raise themselves out of poverty. I have talked to these women and been lucky enough to hear their stories. They have told me of sick husbands unable to work, they have told me of histories of drug abuse and prostitution, they have told me how it feels to be unable to provide anything, even a full belly, to your child. Then they tell me stories of their lives now; stories of installing running water in their homes, of paying for medicine, of sending their kids to university. These women sit tall and look me in the eyes when they tell me how they have saved themselves. I am moved to speechlessness (and not just because I can’t think of the right words in Spanish) after hearing some of their stories.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve been cheating a little bit, having this internship. I feel like I’ve been cheating because the idea that I am here to help these women is only kind of true. Sure, I do what I can. I listen to them, I write up stories about them, I take their pictures. But what is that, really, compared to what they’re doing to help me? I leave every bank meeting with a reaffirmed belief in hope, in optimism, in the idea that there is good in this world. I leave with a pretty healthy dose of girl power, too. This internship has taught me to listen, and not just listen, but really hear. I listen to them, and in listening, realize that there are some things that need no translating. I realize that there are a lot of things that are the same in any culture- suffering, for example. Or hope.
So, in a week, I will return to the States. I will return with more than a rockin’ tan and something cool to list on my resume. I will return a better person- someone who can say she has truly learned to listen. Someone who can say she has a reason to believe in change. So, thanks Mama República. I think, all totaled, the balance sheet is weighted pretty heavy on your side.
Esperanza International Interns 