On Re-Entry

I never thought that going back into the country where I was born, grew up, and generally happy (before I left it) would be so hard. The Dominican Republic changed me in ways that I couldn't have imagined...some of those changes I can put into words and some of them I cannot.

When I first came to the DR, I was SO shy. If I didn't know how to say something, I didn't. I usually faded into the background. If you know me, you know that I'm not shy, until I meet new people. Imagine me in a new situation--the people are new, the city is new, the country and culture is new--it was basically a disaster. In four months, I've become bold. Not overbearing or demanding, just more sure of how to communicate what I want/need. (I think if I had learned this earlier I would have switched families before I did).

I also realized how complacent I was. I (and the majority of my friends) can dictate my daily routine to you without problems. EVERY day for me is the same--wake up, eat breakfast, class, lunch, lab, dinner, homework, bed. Always. Without fail. I think this is better described as comfortable--and that's a hard thing to admit and to overcome. It's hard to force yourself out of the comfortable and into the unknown, but I did it. Now that I'm back into the comfortable situation that I left, I'm trying to force myself to not fall back into the same routine. I'm trying to find ways to challenge myself. In the DR, every single day held (at least) one challenge. Every day. There was nothing comfortable or familiar about my life there, and at the time I saw it as a challenge or something that was hard for me to get over. Now, all I want to be is challenged.

I was so ignorant, (and still am, in some ways). I look at my perceptions of what the Dominican Republic would hold for me, and I couldn't have been more wrong. I feel more educated, more enlightened. My only problem is how do I tell that to my friends and family? How do I share with them everything I learned and all of the lessons that I learned?

I hate starting every sentence with "When I was in the Dominican Republic..", but I feel like I've been doing a lot of that lately. I've been trying to keep my mind occupied here, and haven't allowed myself much downtime. I found out my first night here that downtime is when the sadness comes. (And it's SO quiet here compared to what I'm used to!) I've surrounded myself with people, and am planning to go back to school tomorrow to see all of my friends.

My only problem now is that I have yet to come up with an answer to, "I'm so glad you're home!" In my heart of hearts, I can't agree. I'm glad to be back with the people I have here, but I feel incomplete and not quite whole.

Back in the States

I made it safely back to the states today. Culture shock has severely set in.
I plan on continuing blogging about my life after the DR and how my experiences there are affecting my life now. Please stay tuned for pictures and more stories!

La Despedida

We spent the last few days in the southwest, in possibly the most beautiful place I have ever been in my life. (I promise that when I'm in the states and have super fast internet that I will post ALL the pictures from Pico Duarte to now). The people here and their hospitality continues to amaze me.

Tonight we had our despedida at Elaine's house with our host families. Tomorrow (friday) is my last day in Santiago. Chris and I are spending the next few days chilling in other places, but I officially leave my family tomorrow.

We had a short moment to say a few words about our families and our experience here..and if you know me at all, you know that I had more tears than I had words. I've never been good at goodbyes.

I don't even know how to go about saying it, but my family here has been my family Dominicana. They're not the people that I live with, the people that feed me, or the ones that tell the taxi that gets lost all too often how to get my to our house. They are my family.

When I finally got it together, I told the story of how I always wanted little sisters. If you know me, you know. If you have a little sister and we grew up together, chances are I went to your house and played with you, but begged to play with her too. If you know me, you know that I have an intense love for little children. You know that I spend my Sundays looking forward to seeing my little cousins after church. Ya tu sabes.

I told the story of how I always wanted little sisters. And finally, I got them. I got two of the most amazing little sisters that exist in the whole world. And how I'm going to miss them.

If I could have found the words, I would have talked about my mom. More of my big sister than my mom, but my mom all the same. She has taught me so much. Even in words she doesn't say, she shows me a wonderful example of what a mom should be. I would talk about the time I told her about the wells we use for water, and how she couldn't believe it. I would talk about when she took me to the emergency room and held my hand through the whole ordeal. I would talk about when she explained to me that being called Americana isn't always an insult. I would talk about when she complained about the gua-guas that go to La Vega and the men that harass to take the gua-gua. I would talk about how I learned, how I loved, and how I'm going to miss her.

If I had another chance, I would talk about playing tag in the parking lot with the neighborhood kids and my sisters, always being the liason between the boys and the girls, because God forbid a boy touch a girl in tag. I would talk about going to pick my sisters up from school, and listening to the other kids ask who I am. I would talk about the pride I feel when my sister valiantly responds, "ELLA ES MI HERMANA AMERICANA" (she's my american sister). I would talk about being greeted at the door when I come home. I would talk about having to go work in my community and my sister begging me not to go. I would talk about the times that she's woken me up to tell me that she loves me or that she's going to miss me. I would talk about the times that she's cried, begging me to stay with her. I would talk about how I learned words that I never thought I would need to know, such as "rainbow" or "bubbles". I would talk about how I learned, how I loved, and how I'm going to miss her.

I would talk about my dad, who's a doctor through and through. I would talk about the time that we watched baseball together, cheering for the Red Sox. I would talk about the times that we spent talking about my investigation and my project. I would talk about the times that we shared stories and awed over the beaches. I would talk about how I learned, how I loved, and how I'm going to miss him.

I would talk how I didn't know what to expect. I would talk about a family that welcomed me with open arms, and loved me, loved me, loved me. I would talk about a family that was there through good and bad, that helped me through it all and showed me what a family is. I would talk about how I learned, how we loved, and how I'm going to miss them.

Oh, how I'm going to miss them.

PROOF

Someone asked me a few weeks ago if they could read my investigation. So, without further ado, here it is in all it's glory:

Los Conocimientos, Actitudes, y Percepciones del Dengue en la Comunidad de Las Colinas, Hato del Yaque

You can't preview it, but you can download it and read it if you wish.

If you can't speak Spanish, sorry. If you can speak Spanish and you find a mistake, sorry.

Enjoy!

On Being Happy

It’s been awhile. In fact, I know it’s been awhile because my program director (Hi, Elaine!) mentioned to me that it’s been awhile. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had nothing to say or because I’ve had a lot to say and no words to say it.

The past two weeks, my parents have been here. We spent time in Santo Domingo, Santiago and Puerto Plata. I enjoyed having them here, but it opened my eyes to so many things about my own culture that I was unaware of—things that sadden me, anger me, upset me—but ultimately, things that make me who I am. Err, who I was.

I had my exit interview with Elaine after my presentation. (That’s right, my work is ALMOST done). I realized that I’m not ready to leave. I’m not close to ready to leave. And that’s upsetting, because as of today, I have exactly two weeks left. I dread every single one of those days. Rather, I dread every single one of those nights, because I know that that day in it’s entirety has ended.

I got a Facebook message today from my dad’s cousin (my second cousin?) that said, “I've looked at some of your pictures on facebook. You look so happy --I guess you had a great time!”

I can’t remember the last time that I was happy like this. That’s not to say that I’m an unhappy person or that I’m unhappy with my life or anything like that.

At school in the states, I often feel like I’m going through the motions. Every single day is the same. Get up, eat breakfast, go to class, eat lunch, squeeze in a quick nap, go to lab/class/afternoon activity, eat dinner, do homework, go to be. Rinse and repeat.

At school here, although I feel like busy work will always be busy work in whatever language it is, I have had projects, presentations, and assignments that have truly interested me, challenged me, and caused me to question everything on a deeper level. It’s no longer, “Okay, I have to do this and this and this and this. I have to put what the teacher wants to hear to get a good grade. After I take this test, I can forget it all”. I don’t know if it’s the subjects or what, but I don’t want to forget the information I’ve learned.

There’s no going through the motions here. For me, there’s no such thing as a “normal” day. Every day is an experience. Everyday is something new. And every day is one more day that I thank God I’ve had the chance to experience. My eyes have been opened to so many things. I’ve formed friendships and relationships that I cannot possibly forget. I’ve found out things about myself that I was unaware of, due to obliviousness or ignorance. I’ve found out more about who I am, what I want to do, where I’m going, and who I want to go with.

I’m so happy here.

And in two short weeks, I have to leave it all behind.

I suck at blogging

That's right folks, I'm telling you something you already knew. I suck at blogging.

In my defense, I'd like to blame the other gringos (my parents) that are taking up all of my free time (even though I'm glad they're here).

My capstone project has pretty much sucked my soul and life right out of me, so there's that too.

I'll update eventually.

El Pico Duarte Me Mató

Pico Duarte was fabulous. And when I regain feeling in the bottom half of my body, I'll be glad to tell you all about it and show you all the pictures that I took. But it may be awhile, just sayin'.