I have landed, and settled quite comfortably into my new home for the next month. I expect that this blog will be a mixture of personal reflections on surroundings and experiences, as well as about the actual work and things that I am doing. I also, do not expect to be writing as often as I have. However, as of right now, I am alone in a two-floor three-bedroom apartment, it is raining outside, and I have already thoroughly explored Sosúa after an hour of walking along two streets from one end of the town to the other.
Our condos are a lap of luxury compared to any place I have ever lived. The reasons for living in such a place are due to safety, security, and I'm guessing the school wants to close all possible doors to any legal issues. Well, thanks to those things, I have a bedroom, bathroom, and balcony all to myself, along with a private beach and two pools. It's comfortable, but it's probably more uncomfortable because it IS so comfortable. We are not here to be comfortable. We are here to do work merging into the culture and do trabajo social. It doesn't feel right to be so spoiled and so modern, when that is not the purpose of the trip. But its also not something I have much of a decision about.
Driving from the airport took around 10 minutes, and our lovely DR resident working with the program gave me a quick tour driving around the town. Just as I had expected, and seen before, among the jungle-like atmosphere were dilapidated houses, shacks, and sometimes just couches outside around a fire. Some houses were nice compared to the standards of their surroundings, and part of me couldn't wait to get out of the car to explore los Charamicos. The most gruesome looking part of the drive is where my tour-guide said we would be doing most of our work. I can't wait to dig my hands into it! There are going to be so many people with so many stories of their lives that are burning to be told, and I am going to be the one who gets to hear them.
Just on the flight in, I met a lovely Haitian woman who was returning home to visit her parents. We had lunch together and discussed our lives while we waited during the layover. For me it was just a small taste of how Haitians and Dominicans are alike in that they both want everyone to know and understand their culture and their lives. Many of the cultures I've visited over the years are extremely appreciative of anyone willing to listen to their cultural views, problems, and lifestyles.
Even after a conversation in English, when I say "thank you" or "nice to meet you" in the other persons language, an enormous smile almost always peels across his/her face.
While driving through I became extremely self-conscious. Not only am I American, but I am also seemingly white, which makes me doubly naive and triply ignorant... according to many cultures. The American thing I can hide, easy. Maybe by the end of this trip I wont be white anymore, but the sooner the better. I feel like an insect waiting to be swatted, because some people look at los gringos like they are a disease. I managed to get to the supermercado and buy some groceries so that I could have dinner. I think the only reason that the woman checking me out did not assume I was a tourist was because all I bought was toilet paper, beans, peanutbutter, and bread... and tequila of course. It's also a good thing that I understand Spanish a lot better than I can speak it, because si and no are very important answers and can go horribly wrong when not understanding the question.
On my walk back with groceries in hand, is when I witnessed a little bit of indecency. The locals who feel like los gringos are diseases, are sometimes obvious because even when being polite they are being complete ass holes. It's the same in New York. Someone hollers at you and even though they may say something nice or flattering... they are hollering at you, and that is not flattering at all. It's just rude and dog-like. I experienced that a couple times within hours of being in the DR, and when flattery turned to insults after my rejecting men and salespeople, there were words said in all kinds of languages. I think at one point I even mixed together Greek and Spanish. But the reaction of the salespeople after cursing in a language other than English was usually shock and I realized that I was earning respect just by saying even the simplest curse words like cabron, mierda, or tono del culo.
Sufficed to say, I am greatly looking forward to getting in on the DR action and proving myself worthy to be above tourist status by the end of the month. I know that I am a tourist. But those people are responsible for barging in and taking over countries like the DR, and disrupting the culture, and economy. Thats why tourists suck, and thats why getting past the negative judgments of being one is so difficult. It is very difficult to be understood as a tourist with good intentions, and it requires an extra effort that I am more than willing and ready to put forth. It's just all about respect, and that takes time. Not to mention, I have a lot to learn about the DR. Just because I remember every word of the two books I've read so far, doesn't make me a knowledgeable and respectful visitor... just like going to church doesn't make me a Christian, or going to Wendy's doesn't make me a hamburger.
I wonder what it would be like to be a hamburger.
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