The humid, sticky atmosphere of the Dominican Republic enveloped me as I stepped off of the airplane. While this wasn't my first trip to a foreign country, I was unprepared for both the extent of its poverty and the graciousness of its people. I was apprehensive about living alone with a family who spoke only Spanish, but the warm Dominican greeting of a kiss on the cheek and their engaging questions made me feel welcome and comfortable.
Every year, a group of students from my school travels to the Dominican Republic with Mrs. Lynne Moquete, a teacher who was a Peace Corps volunteer there. We stay with host families and experience the extremes, from beach resorts to mountain poverty. In a village called Angostura we work to reconstruct humble dwellings. We mix concrete by hand to replace dirt floors; we remove dilapidated palm thatch roofs; and we paint the simple wooden houses with brilliant, Latin colors.
My most vivid memory is walking through the streets of Duverge with my host family. We strolled through a poor, overcrowded neighborhood. A kind smile radiated from the face of the old woman who sold roasted chickens hanging from her stand in the work night air. Meringue music blared from every corner. Unmufflered motorcycles, each carrying two or three passengers, swirled past searching for customers willing to pay a few coins for their service. With great concentration, old men played dominoes on a broken table, their comfortable camaraderie apparent to passersby. Their simple nourishment was a small plate of tostones, or fried plantains. I wondered how the Dominican people could be so warm and full of life, while living in poverty that would be unacceptable by U.S. standards. What movitates people who have so little prospect for an improved standard of living? What enables them to wake up in the morning with hope?
I still have not fully internalized how different their circumstances and attitudes are from my own, but my experience there altered my basic assumptions about life. I've grown up in a suburban town; the emphasis for young people is on attending a prestigious college and becoming successful, which really just means making lots of money. Our happiness originates from the acquisition of material property, while in the Dominican Republic their satisfaction derives from each other and the joy of life itself. The Dominican people treasure family, friends, and leisure. They enjoy these simple pastimes, and unlike hurried North Americans, they are satisfied just to sit and take pleasure from the sunset at the end of a hot day.
From the six weeks that I spent in the Dominican Republic, I realized that my conventional expectations were no longer easy assumptions. My sensitivity expanded and I glimpsed a different future for myself, a future with cultural diversity, altered priorities, and a changed outlook. I plan to start with a college education, but the possibilities for my life afterwards are endless. I may even join the Peace Corps and follow the example of the teacher that made it possible for her students to experience the Dominican Republic. This is the same teacher who told her students, "You can't change the world, but you can change the world for someone."