La Primera Semana

Well, here I find myself a whole week and some in the Dominican Republic! Once again, I have so much to talk about and so little space to explain everything. But I will sure do my best. I think I’d like to talk a bit about the culture…not so much the things I have done but little differences that make this place incredible and make me feel right at home (even though it’s only two hours from Miami) J

The Dominican Republic is an amazing place. I live here in Santiago, which is the second largest city of the country. I don’t live particularly on any beaches, but I feel like I’m getting to know the way things work, little by little. Every day brings a new challenge and I am doing my best to take advantage of every situation that I can, because believe it or not, four months is not a whole lot of time. My host family, as I mentioned in my last blog, is one of the best parts. My mami is a wonderful cook, and I serve as a human vacuum cleaner to her food. Dominican food is very organic but can also be very fried. Personally, I could eat fried food all day every day if it didn’t make me fat! Mac and Cheese bites are probably one of my favorite of God’s creations. Here, lunch is the main meal of the day, so my roommate and I come home from school with plates full of deliciousness steaming in front of us. The most common meal is called the “bandera” (the flag). This consists of meat, beans, and rice of whichever variety. There is always white rice and beans accompanied with some sort of meat for lunchtime. One thing I found really interesting was that in the US, we typically don’t eat the burny parts of the rice from the edge of the pot. So one day during lunch we had rice and I was arbitrarily scraping the burned parts from the edges of the metal pot when my host mami shouts: “OH LEAVE IT, I LOVE THAT PART!” and starts eating the burned rice. Apparently it’s her favorite part of the dish. Then she asked me if I wanted to try the burned delicacy, and I said sure, why not? You know what it tasted like?! Burned rice. We also drink fresh fruit juice every morning. When someone from the US imagines going to the DR and having breakfast in a resort, they probably imagine drinking the stuff I’m drinkin’ on a daily basis. My host mami makes fresh juice for us, usually of pineapple, passion fruit, or papaya. I could drink gallons of this juice. I remember thinking at first that it seemed like such a waste to use all those beautiful tropical fruits just to make juice. But then I remembered…when you have something in excess you can do whatever you want with it. In Iowa my dog eats cow ears. In the DR, people make fruit juice. Simple.

My host brother and I get along pretty well these days. He’s a good kid and I like him a lot. Sometimes I feel bad for him because he’s that one member of the family that always has to do favors and get the phone or answer the door. It seems like every minute I hear his name being called: “Moiseeeees! Come eat! Moiseeeeees, can you bring me that thing from the kitchen? Moises, bring this food to the neighbors!” The kid is constantly running errands. He tells me that he likes to play basketball, but judging from the amount of time he has to run back and forth, I think he gets enough exercise already. Speaking of exercise, last night my roommate and I wanted to take a walk around the block after dinner to digest a little bit. So I told my host mom, “Mami, vamos a caminar. Quiere ir con nosotras?” She said that of course she wanted to go, so after dinner I put on a pair of sandals. She looked me up and down and said, “You’re gonna walk wearing that?” (jeans and sandals). I said, yeah I’m used to it and it’s pretty comfortable. So off we went. And let me tell you, when she said we were gonna walk, she wasn’t kidding. We walked, all right. Powerwalked for forty-five minutes to parts of the neighborhood I didn’t even know I could reach in such a short time. I pretended not to pant or sweat or suffer as I struggled along behind my mami, who was so determined. There she was, walking a mile a minute and talking the whole way as I saw my life flash before my eyes. She sure showed me up, and she’s almost forty years older than me. Now I remember why I need to exercise. I think I’ll end up losing weight while I’m down here…

Ok now comes the nitty-gritty of being down here, which is something that one just really has to get used to, which are the Dominican men. Ladies, un consejo. My hair is blond, my eyes are blue, and my skin is pale. No matter how much I leave my hair curly (which it has been…the Irishness is on full swing down here!), wear long pants and hoop earrings like the Dominican girls, I look like a gringa and I’m always gonna look like a gringa. This tends to call a lot of unwanted attention. Just an example, a usual day of walking to class (which is about a ten minute walk), I not only get stared at by everyone, but I’m sure to get at least five comments. It’s funny because I think in the US I’m probably about as normal-looking as it comes. Not here, oh no no. I’ve heard all kinds of stuff, from “Gringa, I luh you!” to “Rubia, ven aqui!” to “Ayy shorty!” (had to laugh at that last one…couldn’t help it). It’s completely normal and it doesn’t mean that it’s unsafe to be in places where men make comments. I would probably be more worried if they were staring at me in silence. The best thing to do is to ignore them and keep walking, which I have been doing successfully. I experienced some of this in Chile and El Salvador, but never so much as I have here. It happens every time I walk out in public, and it’s nothing good or bad, it’s just different and something that I’m getting used to. Luckily, I’m not a stupid person. I have a certain instinct that never allows me to trust strangers. This probably stems from my experience of being mugged, but it’s certainly useful. I lock my car everywhere I go. I only buy purses that have long straps and I never ask anyone I don’t know to take a picture of me. You might think me insensitive, but I just call it some good common sense. So I have a good idea of when to worry and when not to worry. Most of the time, I don’t worry, but when I do the best thing to do is walk confidently, pretend like I know where I’m going, not take out my cell phone and keep my purse held tightly to myself. Everywhere can be dangerous, but I would say that in the Dominican Republic it’s more out in the open and everyone knows to ignore men in the street. My program directors told us that acknowledging them or smiling at them could mean that you consent to have relations with them, so I REALLY try to avoid eye contact! None of that!

Another thing that is really different about the DR is the traffic. I heard from some people that it was bad, but it’s one of those things you have to see to believe. There are traffic laws, of course, but they are not followed in any way, shape or form. I’m sure glad I don’t have to drive while I’m down here because I don’t know driving like that. It’s not so much that it’s fast, but more that it’s disorganized. Cars go between other cars, stop signs don’t matter, there is no right of way, and people honk to let you know they’re comin. It’s a really incredible thing. My first ride freaked me out, and for a brief moment I considered what color I would want the flowers to be at my funeral. But you just learn to get used to it. There is constant honking of horns, screeching of tires, and cars dipping in and out of traffic and parking on sidewalks (of which there are few!). But you just have to trust in the driver that he knows how to drive because that’s the way everyone drives here. I’m not scared anymore of going in cars. What scares me more than going in the cars is crossing the street. The whole “pedestrians have the right of way” thing does not exist here. I remember when I went to El Salvador and our leader told us that whatever is biggest goes first. I think it’s safe to say that it’s the same in the DR. I live near a really busy avenue, a lot like First Ave in Cedar Rapids. Luckily, I don’t have to cross the street to go to school. I try to avoid crossing the street because I know that unlike in the US, no car is gonna stop for me and I don’t really want to get hit by a car at this point in my life.

Apart from that, I don’t feel unsafe. One of my favorite parts about Santiago is the conchos. There really isn’t a good mode of public transportation in the city. There are some buses (guaguas), but they go to places outside of Santiago, like the surrounding towns and cities. The conchos are what people take to get to different parts of the city. These are cars with a direct route, which are numbered K through M. The M line is the one I take to get to the centro from the University or from my house. These aren’t nice cars, either. But they do their job and they get you to where you need to go. You pay 20 pesos (less than 50 cents) to the driver, and he will take you wherever you want to go on his route. These cars can fit up to seven people, two in front with the driver and four in back if at all possible. With that many people in a sedan, you really become close and personal with those around you. It’s an experience, all right, and my housemate and I were really proud of ourselves when we went in concho by ourselves because we didn’t exactly know where we were going. But we made it and we went to the centro and we returned home without a problem. Also, knowing that every concho charges the same price makes it easier for us gringas because we know they aren’t trying to rip us off J

But I have to say, despite all the craziness, I love it here. And the best part is the people. Dominicans are extremely friendly and hospitable, and even in our house we have family visitors nearly every day. It’s a great way to meet more people and to understand the importance of family in this little corner of the world. Plus, there are some really cute tiny grandchildren! Here, people don’t seem so stressed out and nothing is more important than passing time with family and chatting and sharing a meal together. It’s something that I find to be extremely relaxing and that gives me a peace of mind. Schedules, meetings, all that I’m leavin’ behind, and I’m gonna do my best to enjoy every single moment I can with these great people in this awesome country.