Todos son crean en el imagen de Dios

I can’t believe that it has only been three days since my departure from the “known.”

Time here seems to pass very differently- everything is so new and far from what I am used to that I feel as though my time spent thus far has passed by in a blur. I have already learned so much and surprisingly feel strangely connected. Thanks to dad’s ingenuity, I have managed to establish a landline in my apartment through a wifi phone connection which has allowed me to make phone calls without a disastrous charge to my bank account. However, I have been so busy meeting new people, learning the words for streets, markets, individuals, and DR slang that I have little (if any) time to do what I had originally intended to do (ie: read books on development, on the historical connections between the DR and Haiti, and refresh my memory of Spanish verb conjugations). I have determined to be committed to journaling whether that be via blogger or in a personal journal that I carry with me to jot down the (many) Spanish words that have escaped my memory bank in hopes of researching them later and committing them to memory.

My trip to Santo Domingo was an experience in itself. The morning started with a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call. A rush to wake myself up, say goodbye to a sleeping Bekkah, wake-up a groggy Rachel who insisted on accompanying me to the airport, weighing my over-packed bags one last time to ensure they were under the 99 pound limit which the nice Jet Blue assistant informed me of via the telephone a few days earlier, and then listening to dad recite his rather interesting list of Spanish vocab words which consisted of several “Goooooooool Gol Gol Gol’s” (yeah, I knew we shouldn’t have let him watch all that world cup tv).

Anyways, upon arrival at RDU, while waiting to weigh my bags (75 pounds and 85 pounds for anyone who cares to know), I was informed that due to strict import regulations, individuals traveling to the DR are only allowed 2 bags weighing (at most) 50 pounds each. Uh oh. I put on my sappiest act and even used the “missionary card,” but the nice and (very) patient lady assured me that if I didn’t remove the additional 55 pounds from my bag, the DR security team would and there was no way to retrieve or determine the said overweight articles. Lovely. So, needless to say, the next 15 minutes went as follows, frustration, desperation, and eventually (thank God!) determination. I cut out nearly 60 pounds of luggage in less than ten minutes (with the help of mom, dad, Rachel and several small garbage bags supplied by the lady who felt truly bad for making me ditch so many belongings), said a tearful goodbye to the family, got through security, purchased a bottled water at starbucks (which I later had to throw out at the gate), and then arrived at my gate with 5 minutes to spare. Talk about starting the trip off well!

Traveling from RDU to Boston, I had a short layover at Logan before departing for the island of Hispaniola. But life altered drastically shortly after locating my departure gate. Immediately, one thing was made clear. I would be the only American passenger on this flight! At first, I was intimidated. I immediately felt insecure in my knowledge of Spanish greetings until a beautiful little girl reminded me that smiling is universal. I sat mesmerized as she convinced her brother in her thick Dominican accent to sing the background part to a Justin Bieber “cancion” while she sang the “oh baby baby baby” part. I guess a love for mr. Bieber is universal.

The community I found myself among was alive and boisterous. Everyone greeted each other through hugs and a kiss on the right cheek. The stewardesses and flight crew (all American) joked amongst themselves that they hoped to get the flight off the ground as close to on time as possible. I had no idea the reality in their sentiments until I experienced a 1+ hour wait on the tarmac as individuals bustled and hustled to greet one another before eventually settling into their seats. I sat next to two incredible women, one from the DR and another who was fluent in Spanish but who also spoke English very well. I think she was traveling to the DR on holiday. Anyways we shared laughs, ginger snaps, and a few hugs after surviving a serious bout of turbulence. Upon landing in Santo Domingo, the entire plane erupted in applause- what a difference from the usual reserved murmurs of passengers, the beeps of revived cellphones, and the premature clicks of seatbelts.

As we began to depart the airplane, the woman who spoke English left me with the following advice: be patient, always listen, and always carry a journal with you to write down words that are foreign to you (I guess I will be doing a lot of writing!). Also, one of the stewards and I had sparked conversation and he wished me luck on the journey ahead. Que increible! Since then, my time spent in Santo Domingo has been one of adjustment and exploration. I hope to post photos of the apartment where I will be living on FB as well as some historical sites I have had the opportunity to travel to. These next few months are sure to become increasingly hectic, however I am trusting that God will continue to provide and to fill in where I fall short!