The Things I Like

The holidays here have felt far from typical. In fact, there was almost a total lack of the consumer craziness that has come to define Christmas in the states and a complete absence of cookies and sweaters. Right now, the big difference in Pedro Santana from any other time of the year has been the amount of people and cars here to visit their hometown and families. I don’t know the population right now but I can tell you it is far above the usual thousand. It has been fun for me because there are loads of people my age who have left town after high school for school and jobs in the capital. They come bumping in SUVs or Toyota Corollas, a Dominican favorite, with capital goods like boxes of cereal and sunglasses.

Their presence is like a little piece of home and makes apparent the things I don’t even notice are missing. I saw a baby being pushed in a stroller and had a moment of confusion, a lot like when you wake up and, just for a second, you don’t know where you are. Strollers are not necessary here and would surely turn into potentially dangerous toys for older siblings and I, therefore, totally support their absence. Less mesmerizing but surprising all the same, dog leashes, braces, and swimsuits have been popping into sight. Although I am admittedly enjoying all the material crap that reminds me of home and my new lively social life, I have realized what I really do like here that we don’t have in the states.

I like the apparent quality of resources. I had never paid much attention to where housing utilities come from or questioned their presence. Here, we have power for about half the time. When it’s on, the refrigerator gets cold, you can charge your phone and music is blasted through loudspeakers throughout town. When it’s off, life is a little more peaceful especially at night when candles light the house and the vivid stars give you that camping feel. Water, oh water. Apparently we are on to better water days but for now, it is pumped every second or third day from the river and runs through the aqueduct to arrive in faucets, dirty or clean. I have resorted to bathing in the river with natural soap because it’s refreshing and saves water at the house. The only other utility that I can think of is the propane for our stoves. I have a ten gallon tank and there is no way of knowing when I have used up the gas until it’s gone. I have asked a few people because I should be nearing the end but one day, surely in some horrible culinary moment, it will just run out without warning. I will have to wait and pay to send it on a truck to be filled an hour away. Maybe I’m not shedding the best light on this aspect of life here but I do like it because it isn’t confusing and I am forced to appreciate things that I only pretended to appreciate at home.

I also like aspects of family life here. Specifically, I think I can learn from the generosity without question that is illustrated in so many houses. One indicator is the food being sent to and fro to poorer grandparents, nephews and friends. More common questions than ‘where to you live’ are ‘where do you sleep’ and ‘where do you eat’. ‘Oh, I sleep with my cousin at my grandma’s house and I eat at my house, the neighbor cooks because my mom works.’ Another is the many hijos de crianza meaning children of belief. Many children are raised by relatives, godparents, or even seemingly unrelated community members. Because of our position on the border, there are Dominican families with Haitian children who have been raised since infancy and therefore speak only Spanish and are quick to correct their nationality as Dominican. Hijos de crianza, in my mind, demonstrate how much simpler and nicer things can be here. The messy yet supportive families here make development look like a monster that brings the difficult and messier foster care systems, adoption processes and custody battles.

Another cultural difference that I respect but I don’t see myself ever fully embracing is the bluntness of lifestyle and speech. You go girl, you wear those rollers in public! Put on pants so tight the fly won’t zip and let your love handles shine as your shirt is really a bathing suit and your bra is sticking out the top. There seems to be little problem with weight issues as I haven’t heard about eating disorders nor is there much of an obesity problem. Plus, in case you haven’t noticed, a little flub is attractive! Other aspects of the lucidity here are health and aging. Everyone’s health problems are chatted about and shown openly. Things like cataracts and missing teeth are left as is for the world to see. I honestly didn’t know so many people have these conditions because they are fixed or covered up. We are exposed to people getting older honestly without the means to worry about vanity and hide the signs of aging. Vocabulary here is also a lot clearer than what I am used to. Many nicknames are allusions to their appearance, blacky, whitey, little, fatty. It makes for embarrassing introductions as calling someone blacky is far from my comfort zone. I can’t count the amount of times I have asked who we are talking about to get an answer like, ‘You know, the ugly’, or ‘The fatty teacher with the red motorcycle’, or ‘Wait, are you talking about my black brother or my chubby brother’. I have gotten all sorts of questions and comments about my own appearance and so I learned how to say ‘That hurts my feelings’. I rarely use it because I am usually more amused than offended and as long as I’m not referred to as just plain ugly, I feel pretty lucky.

There are other things I like here and many I don’t like, that’s life. Also, most of these positive cultural qualities could never be translated literally in the states. I promise when I go back home I won’t turn off my power box, try to raise other people’s kids or refer to someone as the little fatty. I do hope, however, to take the idea of resource consciousness, generosity, and honesty that comes so natural to the Dominican lifestyle. Plus, maybe I’ll wear tighter clothes and be a little crass just for fun.

Happy New Year!