Dominican Republic Trip: Day 6

Eunice and Jonathan went to school earlier than Rosie and me again, and Pastor José took us out to change our money. We walked to the bank. It’s so nice to have a city where things are in walking distance.

As we walked out of the bank after yet another e t e r n a l process of changing traveler’s checks, a man with crutches came up to us asking for money. Pastor José gave him one peso. I didn’t give him anything, though he directed most of his begging at me. I felt so confused. People say, “Don’t give money to beggars.” This one looked like one of his legs was a lot shorter than the other, so short that it couldn’t touch the ground. But he must have been holding it up, because later I turned around and saw him walking pretty normally on it. I think I would give to beggars if people didn’t say not to. But maybe then I would get taken advantage of. I don’t know. I’ll have to file this one in the “For Further Thought” pile.

After changing our money, Pastor José took Rosie and me to the clinic. I would have gone on to the school, but we got to the clinic rather late after the time we took at the bank, so we stayed there together and took a taxi home at 2:30.

When we got there, first Eulalia showed us around. We saw her office of bacteriology or whatever it’s called, and met the people she works with. A group of American doctors was in for the week with specialties in gynecology, plastic surgery, and general surgery. People had registered months ahead of time to be able to have these services, and the doctors had a full load of patients. Cheloids and hemangiomas were removed, tubes tied, stitches put in and taken out, and a general flurry of activity pervaded everything.

We could have watched a surgery, but we opted not to. Neither of us were feeling well that day, and I was afraid it wouldn’t be good for my stomach.

This clinic was started by missionaries to help children who were in various stages of malnutrition. From there its services spread to include a huge variety of things. In 1998, a hurricane destroyed everything and they had to start from scratch, but then American sponsors helped them, and when they reopened 6 months later, they were the fastest hospital in the whole area to recover from the hurricane. They have been in operation 25 years now, and the founders are no longer there. The husband died 4 years ago and his elderly wife lives in Ohio.

The clinic also has a guest house where the American groups stay, run by a man and wife named Rod and Sandy from Ohio. This is where Rosie and I helped. We met Sandy, Juanita (from Pennsylvania), and Margo (a Dominican) in the kitchen of the guest house. This is the first place we have seen hot water or a working refrigerator, and the whole kitchen is very well-equipped. Under Sandy’s direction, it is also a very cheerful, well-organized place, and Juanita and Margo keep it lively with laughter and playful pranks.

Rosie and Margo were standing side by side at the sink at one point, and Margo accidentally got some water on Rosie’s shirt. She was saying, “I’m sorry” and Rosie was saying, “No, it’s okay, it’s fine.” Margo dried Rosie off with a towel and then directed a grin at Juanita. “Es tu culpa,” she said. “Pero tu estás enfrente de la lavamanos,” Juanita shot back with a laugh. I got a kick out of the whole thing, so I translated for Rosie, “It’s your fault / But you’re the one in front of the sink,” I said. Margo looked back with surprise. “Me entendiste…” (you understood me) she realized. We all laughed.

We washed dishes, roasted peanuts, buttered bread, advised Sandy in making crescent rolls, fed scraps to two sheep and a goat, washed tables, and ate lunch with them. I took some pictures there of flowers and the buildings.

Eulalia called a taxi for us to go home at about 2:15, and Sandy sent us a paper plate full of the crescent rolls she had just made. The smell of the hot fresh bread filled the taxi. As I was paying the driver 50 pesos when we had arrived, I asked, “Le gustaría un pan?” He looked like he thought he hadn’t heard me right. “Está bien?” he breathed. I nodded as I held up the open bag. He took one with a big smile on his face, thanked me, and left.

The interesting occurrence of the evening was the visit of a man with his two adorable little girls. He was full of plans of things for us to do. He and Pastor Jose discussed it all in Spanish, so I didn’t catch it all, but they were talking about riding horses, seeing sights, and visiting the beach. Eunice, Rosie and I were really excited about the horses, but Pastor José didn’t like the idea. Oh well. Dad would probably have preferred for us to not ride them anyway.

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Dominican Republic Trip: Day 5

Eunice and Jonatán went to school at 7:30, but they let Rosie and I have a little more time to get ready, and Pastor José got a taxi at about 9:30 to take us to the school. We met the director’s wife and some other ladies, and somebody took us over to the English class. We sat in and observed this class until it was over. They were going over the answers to a test they had taken. We met both English teachers, named Daniel (from Virginia) and Tracy (from Pennsylvania). For the rest of the day, we took two students at a time to tutor and converse in English. We read to the younger students and did English exercises with the older students. We met Manuel, the librarian, too, and talked with him for a while. He had been to the United States for heart surgery, and spoke good English. About our age, he was very easygoing and friendly.

A hen with her chicks on school grounds

Mangoes growing

We rode a bus home with Eunice and Jonathan, getting there about 3:00. Tati had our noon meal all ready and we sat down to eat. This is the main meal, with a lighter supper at about 8:00. After lunch we did the dishes (they’re finally letting us help!) and took our siesta.

That evening Rosie and I went with Eunice to a church service for young people. Again, I was impressed with the spirit of sincere worship that they seemed to have. “Se fue la luz” (the power went out) several times, leaving us in complete darkness in the church. They did have a generator, though, so we had power right away as soon as somebody got it turned on.

It’s nice because Eulalia has a battery system hooked up to her house that charges when there is electricity and then provides power when “se va la luz” (the power goes out).

Pastor José, who used to work for the electric company here, said that the problem is not with the production of electricity but with the distribution. In order to fix the system, he said they would have to completely shut down the existing system and start again. Of course this would be expensive and difficult. I saw in one of the poor neighborhoods how people tie in about 50 wires to one spot by a pole. It’s amazing how much I take for granted things like the stable electricity in the United States.

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Dominican Republic Trip: Day 4

It was Frank’s 15^th birthday Sunday, so I made him a birthday card and Rosie and I signed it. Birthdays aren’t made too much of here. He got one of the Scofield Bibles we brought, but I don’t know if he got any other present, and he said there weren’t any special plans or special food planned for him.

Tati made oatmeal for breakfast. It was absolutely the best oatmeal I had ever eaten or imagined. I thought it was flan at first. Then I thought it was some kind of custard or pudding. I had to ask to assure myself it was oatmeal. Nobody else liked it. I don’t think they were used to eating oatmeal. Pastor José said afterward, “This was a poor meal.”

The reason we had oatmeal was because of me. The night before, Tati called me into the kitchen and asked if there was anything special I wanted to eat in the morning. I said, “No, the breakfasts we’ve been having have been great. It’s nice to have something new for a change, because we always eat oatmeal.” Evidently, she took that as a hint. Rule: Don’t drop things in passing if you don’t want them taken for a request.

The church service at Iglesia Evangelica Menonita Luz y Vida was very good. I could understand most of it, which was exciting, and everybody seemed very sincere. 

My song went all right, except I made a mistake in the middle and I didn’t do a very good job of keeping the microphone in the right place. I didn’t really hear how anyone liked it, because we left before the service was over. We had to eat and get to the bus station by 2:00.

Lunch was delicious! Their flavors here are so pleasant to the tongue! Not too spicy and not too weak. However, I’m abandoning keeping track of the meals, because Rosie wrote them all down, and I figured, “Why duplicate what is already getting recorded by one of us?”

Transportation on the bus from Santo Domingo to San Juan de la Maguana cost us $150 pesos each. The bus was plush, air conditioned, and more comfortable than a plane. For the little streets we were on, the bus was huge. We felt incredibly high up and we did NOT envy the driver.

As the bus left the city and we began to see the countryside for the first time, we passed by an extremely poor area of huts built in conditions almost beyond belief. They were all built on flat spaces cut into a hillside that was almost all dirt and very steep, reinforced here and there with a little wall of stones and concrete. The houses were built of the most rustic materials, pieces of corrugated metal propped up against sticks of wood.

Then we got into the countryside. I couldn’t take a nap or write in my journal or do anything that would tear my eyes away from the window. I took a lot of pictures that didn’t turn out, because I would have a beautiful mountain view and by the time the camera focused and took the picture, a tree had passed in front of it.

All the riverbeds were very dry. A few had a little trickle of water in them and the rest were completely dry. They did have better grass in them though, so usually there would be a few horses and/or cows grazing (never very many, just 5 or 6). In one river that had water in it I saw a whole family going swimming. They looked like they were laughing and having the best time in the world. We passed by a lot of different crops—bananas, sweet potatoes, sugar cane, cantaloupe, peanuts, rice, and other things I didn’t know.

There were beautiful mountains along the way, and when we passed a city called Bani, we could see the sea, too. Everything looked so green and lush and fresh. The sun was shining and everything was beautiful.

At one point in the trip, three things in a row made me go, “Whoa.” First was when the bus passed a huge dump truck, both of us going at tremendous speeds, with scarcely any room to spare. Then I saw the most enormous black pig I think I have ever seen in somebody’s yard. Then I saw a person taking a bath in the gutter right in plain view of the street.

Every so often we would come upon a string of houses along the road, usually with stands to sell things in front. The houses are small, and few have electrical wires running to them. They usually have trees shading them and a dirt yard. Most are made of concrete blocks painted bright colors, but the poorer ones have siding made of palm wood, also painted brightly. These do not withstand the hurricanes as well.

Speaking of house colors, paint advertisements are so popular here. You see billboards everywhere saying how this or that paint “comes in every color for all your needs.” Things like: “Pinturas Tropical: para tu gusto hicimos todos los colores.”

When we got to the bus stop in San Juan, we got out and got a taxi that took us to Pastor José’s sister, Eulalia’s house. This was the nicest house we stayed in, though not necessarily the biggest. It was clean, bright, and cheerful. There are two bathrooms, and the toilet also flushes for the first time, and water actually comes out of the shower heads. This was also the first house with glass in the windows—but just the front two, and they also have bars.

Eulalia gave Rosie and me her bed. It’s in the room with Eunice (Pastor José’s daughter), so we’ve had fun talking together (in English!). Eulalia is an amazing person! She is not only a wonderful, sweet Christian, she is the only person from San Juan, Azua, and another city very far from here who does what she does. She is some kind of microbiologist in diagnosing bacteria, and she has a lot of cases because so many people need this service and come from so far away to have her do it. Besides this, she works with CEF, teaches a Bible study at her church, hosts students from Goshen College in Indiana who come here to teach English, and is about to graduate from some level of higher education she is pursuing. And she has time for everybody and never looks busy but always keeps a peaceful, unstressed demeanor. What a lady!

Speaking of wonderful ladies, WE LOVE TATI! Sometimes our communication is comical, because she doesn’t speak or understand English, but it just makes her all the more loveable. She is also one of the most beautiful women among the “beautiful-in-general” people in this country, and such a hard worker. There is no washing machine here, so she stands for hours outside in the hot afternoon, scrubbing clothes in a laundry sink in the backyard. She is an exceptional cook, working in the kitchen making three meals a day, and then protesting when we try to do the dishes. She is the first one up in the morning and often the last one to go to bed, and she doesn’t even take a siesta! There’s just something irrestably lovable about her, and I’m going to miss her.

We had a large, delicious dinner prepared by Eulalia for us. Then I went to bed rather early, because I was tired without my nap. I slept much better, because San Juan is much quieter than Santo Domingo was. 

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Dominican Republic Trip: Day 3

On Saturday we went to Los Tres Ojos caves, the botanical gardens, and Faro A Colon, a building built to honor the 500^th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’ discovery of America. We ate lunch at Tati’s sister’s house and had the yummiest papaya!

Highlights of the day: Los Tres Ojos was awesome! It means “The Three Eyes,” because there are three main lakes all interconnected in the caves. Suffice it to say I loved it! The pictures tell what it looked like.

When we were leaving the third “ojo,” a tour group passed us coming in. The tour guide, a Dominican, when he saw Rosie and me, stopped and asked in English, “Are you Christians?” We responded with a smile, “Yes.” He replied, “I am Protestant.” “We are too,” we said, and we continued on our separate ways. An interesting question to be asked out of the blue. I pondered over it as I walked away. Did he just ask everyone that question? Or did he see something that made him able to guess that the answer was yes?

The same thing happened at Faro A Colon. A security guard asked Pastor José if Rosie and I were Christians. We talked with him for a while and found out he was a pastor in Brazil for a while and now was a pastor here.

Afterwards, in the car, I asked Pastor José, “How did that man know we were Christians?” “He can see it in your face, in the way you act, in your dress—yes, he knew.” “It’s that obvious?” I asked, incredulous. “Yes,” he said. So in some mysterious way, without even trying, we have somehow managed to be a light to those around us.

An interesting fact about the Faro A Colon is that it is built in the shape of a cross with the whole middle open to the sky. Pastor José said they shine lights up from the bottom at night and reflect the shape of the cross on the clouds.

Then the botanical gardens were full of the most luxuriant vegetative beauty! I love seeing palm trees. They always make me want to take their picture. I only got pictures of the “Japanese garden” though, because the battery died.

We took the “train” ride around the gardens. I might have preferred to walk, but Pastor José suggested riding, and we have learned better than to mention our own ideas, because they will go along with them even if they’re not feeling up to it. And with Pastor José having just had surgery, it wouldn’t have been good. Plus the park was huge and we wouldn’t have had time to do on foot what we did in the cars. Again, the pictures show it best.

That evening, an American girl named Andrea came to the house. She was from Goshen College in Indiana and lived in Chicago. She had been in the Dominican Republic for 3 months, 6 weeks attending language school and 6 weeks teaching English in the city (here) of San Francisco. I was amazed to find that I actually understood more Spanish than her.

The electricity went out 3 times that night, returning for a brief period only to go away again. So we just sat in the living room in the dark and talked. Lili and Emily asked Rosie what she wanted to study in college, and when she said she didn’t know, both of them tried to get her to study their major. “You should study hotel management.” “No, medicine is the best. You make a lot of money.” “But with hotel management you get to travel and meet all kinds of different people.” And back and forth it went.

After a bit, Rosie saw fireworks out the window, and we went up on the roof to watch them. They were so far away that we could barely hear the sound. Then we started looking at pictures in the clouds. One looked just like the map of the Dominican Republic. Another looked like a horse head, and another like Francis Schaeffer.

We always go to bed really late, but a 2-hour nap every afternoon helps a lot. After practicing our song again and letting Emily, Lili and Frank play the violin, we went to bed about midnight. I didn’t sleep very well that night because I was thinking about singing my song in church the next day. I also wanted to figure out what I wanted to say before I sang, and have the Spanish corrected so that I wouldn’t be stumbling around up on stage. All these thoughts were going through my mind, and it was also noisy, so I kept waking up.

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Dominican Republic Trip: Day 2

At about 4:00 in the morning, we were greeted by a welcome sound: roosters crowing! Apparently they don’t have laws against raising chickens in the city. You see them wandering around a lot, and most of them look like the game chickens we used to have.

The crowing of the roosters was followed soon after by an increase in traffic. There is a road right outside and it is amazing how noisy cars can be. There is a constant sound of lots of traffic going by, which woke me up a couple of times before I decided to get up around 7:00 local time. I could have gone on sleeping, because that felt like 5:00 to me, but I didn’t want people to think I was a lazy American. As it turned out, this was actually too early for them, so I thought I would sleep in the next day a bit more.

When I was dressed, I sauntered out into the hall and saw Tati. She ushered me into the living room and asked me if I would have a seat on the sofa while she went to prepare breakfast. I sat down but soon popped up again to go get my tatting, and then I wandered out to the balcony and stood there looking out, enjoying the warm air and the new sights.

It wasn’t long before I was urged to sit down again. I think this culture is all about sitting down. I don’t know how many times I’ve been offered a seat or asked to sit down or had someone get up so that I could sit. This is very strange to me, as usually I was perfectly comfortable standing and it is an older person trying to give me their seat. However, it’s useless to resist or protest. They are more uncomfortable seeing you stand than you are standing, so it makes everything go a lot smoother if you just give them their wish and sit down.

Breakfast consisted of bread, butter, cheese, pineapple (“pan de azucar”), scrambled eggs, and coffee. I asked if this was a typical breakfast, and they said no, but they thought we would like it more. We assured them that we were perfectly willing and interested to try their food, but perhaps we will have to prove to them that we are not picky eaters. It was only Tati, Pastor Jose, Rosie and I eating, and they told us that the others hadn’t gotten up yet.

After breakfast, there was more sitting on the couch and a constant stream of visitors, relatives, neighbors, Christian friends, children, etc. and all the greetings that went with that. We tried to call home to let them know we got in safely, but our phone card wouldn’t work, and we eventually had to use one of theirs. It was a “hi, bye” type of thing, because we didn’t want to use their minutes up, but Mom was glad to hear from us.

Then Otoniel (Pastor Jose's son) arrived with the car and Rosie and I left with him, Pastor Jose, and Tati to be shown around the city.

First we went to the mall and bought a notebook for me to write my journal in, because I had forgotten one. The mall was HUGE! It was 3 stories tall and full of stores of every description. Most of the clothing looked the same as what we can find at home, but all the prices, when translated from pesos to dollars, were a shade higher. This notebook was about a dollar. (Mead, 1 subject, college ruled, spiral bound, 70 sheets. I don’t buy this kind at home unless it’s 10-20 cents.) When we went up to pay, I didn’t have pesos, so Pastor Jose bought it for me and then we went to a bank to change our money.

Unfortunately, Rosie and I had gotten traveler’s checks. What a mistake and an inconvenience! The first bank we tried didn’t change them, and at the second place, it took  f  o  r  e  v  e  r . To make matters worse, we had left most of our money back at the house, so we’ll have to go do it again. Finally that was done, and we went to a museum in El Plaza Cultural on the history of “el hombre dominicano” (The dominican man). 

The museum had information on the Indians who lived here before the discovery of the island by the Spanish, artifacts like ax heads, mortal & pestle, and flint stones. There was also a lot about how the Dominican Republic people gained their independence through three men named Duarte, Sanchez, and Mella, and their history during the following years. Most notable was the reign of dictator Trujillo. He was very cruel, sending many of his enemies to the electric chair. If he saw a girl he liked, he would ask if she had a boyfriend. If she said yes, he would kill him and take her. If she said no, he would go ahead and take her. The final straw came when he killed three famous, intelligent, beautiful, well-liked women. For this, he was assassinated. They had the assassins’ car on display. The driver’s side had 8 huge bullet holes in it. I didn’t hear what became of the driver.

The museum closed for “siesta” while we were there, so we went to the house of Pastor Jose’s sister, Debora and her husband, Gabriel (who came to the airport). Their son, Juan Gabriel, was the owner of the car we were using (a white Toyota Corolla). After getting a drink of water, using the restroom, and meeting lots of people who were at their house eating lunch, we went to a restaurant to eat. (We left Otoniel there.)

It took us a while to find the restaurant, and we drove around a lot of little tiny streets before we found it. Everywhere in the streets, especially the little streets, there are enormous speed bumps. We go over all of them as slow as we possibly can, but almost every time, the bottom of the car scrapes horribly. Turning from street to street is the same situation. Sometimes the more major streets will have a lot more layers of pavement, creating a big drop off. Other times there is a ditch or gutter between streets. Navigating these obstacles is not the only thing the drivers have to do. The streets are pretty crazy, with cars driving in the middle of lane lines, motorcycles weaving in and out between cars, and 3 or 4 cars trying to turn left at the same time. They won’t wait behind you if you’re turning—they pull up next to you and go at the same time you go. As Rosie said about midday, “I can’t believe we’ve only been in one accident.” We were driving too close and hit the car in front of us. Both of us kept on going. It was too minor to bother with, apparently.

The restaurant we went to was a buffet, and the food was so good! They had platanos! MMM! We also got mangoes. I don’t think I had ever eaten a whole mango. However, the price of the meal was $1,020 pesos, which is about $36, and very expensive for a meal. They were surprised and said that we would eat at people’s houses the next day.

We didn’t eat lunch till rather late, because they kept asking us if we were hungry, and we kept saying, “Not desperately hungry…we could eat, or we could wait…whatever.” I think they were VERY hungry by the time we ate. Afterwards, we went back for a siesta. That felt SO good! I slept for 1 ½ hours or so, and woke quite refreshed.

We went out in the car again to see some caves called “Los Tres Ojos” (The Three Eyes), but we got there after it was closed, so they said we would go in the morning.

We went to Tati’s brother’s house since Los Tres Ojos was closed, and there we had a tour of the back yard where they had a lot of different types of trees. We saw mango, avocado, and papaya, and also saw the plants for yucca and lentils. They picked a mango and gave it to Rosie. It’ll ripen in a few days.

While we were there, Pastor Jose got on the internet on Tati’s brother’s computer to check the status of his visa. Just as he was about to get the information something happened for the first time that has happened many times since: “se fue la luz.” (We lost power.) It was dark by that time, so we left.

Oh, but I’m supposed to tell what we ate. At their house, they had us sit on the couch, and they served us cracker sandwiches spread with a sort of cheese spread inside and soda that was like Coke, but better.

When we got back to our apartment, Rosie and I practiced for the first time the song I was singing on Sunday. I had finished it on the plane, so I didn’t even know for sure if the harmony part I had written for the violin would match up, but it was fine. Emily came in while we were practicing and whispered to Pastor Jose that she wanted to learn the violin between now and Sunday. J

We had dinner at around 8:00. It was mashed potatoes, yucca root, cooked green bananas, liver, and fresh, delicious orange juice. Pastor Jose was worried that we wouldn’t like the yucca, especially after Rosie took a big piece. (He didn’t yet know us! But I guess a lot of people don’t like it.) It actually didn’t have much taste, kind of like a potato, but with a more fibrous texture.

After dinner, we went to our room, unsure of what to do next. Emily shyly asked us if we were doing anything. We said no, and she asked if she could try the violin. We said, “Of course!” and got it out. Liliana came in, too, and we taught “Twinkle, twinkle, little star” to the two of them, and later to their brother, Frank.

It was interesting to observe their characters. Lili is bold, expressive, even saucy, usually smiling, and easy to like. That morning, she told her uncle Jose that she knew more English than he did, and then proceeded to inform me that she would not speak English to me. I responded (in Spanish), “That’s okay, I’m in your country, and Spanish is the language here.” She said, “If I visit your country, I will speak English, but while I’m here, I speak Spanish.” While Emily was trying the violin, Lili kept saying, “Mal, malísimo,” (bad, extremely bad), with a mischievous grin.

Emily is shy, sensitive, and reserved. She doesn’t put herself forward, and because she is quiet, she is harder to get to know. When Lili picked up the violin and sounded about the same, Emily teased her about it in a much milder manner, causing a much bigger reaction in Lili.

Frank is friendly, genuine, and confident. He talks easily and I had several conversations with him. He was helpful to me in correcting my Spanish and patient when I didn’t understand. Though only 15 years old, he already knew what he wanted to study in college (some sort of technology involving computer programs and satellite dishes). Sensible and matter of fact, I found him very likeable.

I believe that this concludes the events of our first day in the Dominican Republic. Are we experiencing culture shock? Not really—nothing has been really SHOCKING. But there have been cultural difficulties. For example, we asked about the interior of the country, and the mountains, and they told us about it and about a national park there. Then they looked very disappointed and said, “But we can’t go there, because there’s not enough time and it’s too expensive and it’s too far away.” But we weren’t asking them if we could go there. We were just curious about it.

Another thing had to do with food. At first, when they asked us if we were hungry, we said, “No, not really. We could eat or we could wait. It doesn’t really matter. Whatever you want to do.” We didn’t want to say yes and have them think they had to drop everything and eat right then because we were hungry. But they kept hearing us say no, and they wanted to eat, and they kept getting hungrier and hungrier (which we didn’t realize), so by the time we finally ate, they were starving.

They eat so much here! They eat so many times a day, and their meals are delicious, but way too much food. After I have eaten an average-to-generous size portion, Pastor Jose will say to me, “Rebekah, you eat so little. Have some more.” I say, “I can’t. I’m full. I’m small—I can’t eat much.” So he says, “We are going to send you back to your mother and she will say to you, “What happened!? You got malnourished while you were away.” I exclaim, “No! I’m going to be fatter when I go home.” So about every day now, he says, “I am so sorry for your small stomach,” or “I will pray for your small stomach to grow.” We just laugh. He’s so comical as he says it.

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