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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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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