A "Transformational Journal"

By Doug Kinney - Trip to Dominican Republic, June, 2003

In June the southern coast of the Dominican Republic is hot, and humid, and green, and lush. The Caribbean Sea is an indescribable topaz blue. The mouth of the Rio Nizao at the sea is chalk-white, fanning out and finally melting into the topaz. Photographs cannot do this place justice. Neither can words. One just has to see it.

This portion of the country is also very mountainous, very rugged. The mountains start right after the rocky beaches end. The houses and villages are built on the sides of these mountains.

The Dominican people are exactly like their land; very rugged but very beautiful and warm. It is easy to fall in love with this land and its people.

Our group from St. Elizabeth's was 22 strong including Sarah, our TJ leader. Nine of us were adults, 13 were high-schoolers. We all went with pre-conceived ideas of getting there and building houses or teaching the children. As it turned out not much building got done for them but a lot of learning occurred for us. They taught us. Through their faces, their smiles, their chatter, and their warmth they taught us wealthy Americans a person can be rich with very little in his pockets.

On Wednesday, after 2 days of helping dig pits for a septic system, I was tired of that and decided to take pictures all day. Younger children were playing with our kids, adults were watching their kids, and older boys were playing baseball with a soccer ball. The photo ops were limitless.

About noon I started walking down the rocky road to take some photos of the shacks and foliage and a cock-fighting pit (we saw no fights). A couple of the boys who I had photographed that morning playing ball started following me. Hibe and Miga were 9 or 10 years old. We talked, as best we could – them knowing no English and me knowing very little Spanish - as we walked along taking pictures. They pointed out all the fruits in the trees as we walked – bananas, plantains, chinolas, chinas, and a dozen others I didn't recognize.

Suddenly Hibe starts up a hill and into the jungle beckoning me to follow. "No, no, no. Let's stay on the road" I tried to say. I had no idea what might be encountered or where we might go. But Hibe kept going and Miga followed him. There was a small footpath they were on so I relented.

About 100 feet up the hill in a small clearing stood 3 or 4 shacks. About 10 people were sitting outside eating their noon meal; men and women and little children. They were a bit rough looking in t-shirts and ragged pants, the little children naked or nearly so, but there was no embarrassment on their part. They were happy to see us, their eyes dancing! In the middle of his meal one of the men rose and offered me his chair. I was the one embarrassed. "Muchas gracias, but you sit and eat" I tried to say. I sat on a tree root and we tried to converse as best we could. "Tu familia?" "Your family?" I asked Hibe. "Si!" He had taken me, a stranger, to meet his family!

We sat for a time. They posed and I took their pictures. They absolutely love to have their picture taken with their broad smiles. The little kids ran around naked eating their rice. A sow snorted across the dirt looking for something to eat. Puppies tumbled around a small grassy spot and grandma stayed in the kitchen.

Too soon it was time to go but as we said goodbyes Hibe takes off and scoots up a palm tree all the way to the top. I'm wondering what the heck he's doing up there, but not for long. Three coconuts drop to the ground. Hibe scoots back down and grabs them. Finding his papa's machete he deftly lops off the end of a coconut, pops out the stem and hands it to me. He does the other 2 the same way handing one to Miga and keeping one for himself. He and Miga take long drinks from the coconuts and then I do, too. Sweet, sweet water! I'm thinking this is just pretty cool, not something on the tourist route! I've never had a better drink and probably never will.

Friends are easily made in this land and goodbyes are hard.

On Friday, our last day, we partied with our friends. No work was done. There was a ceremony when we handed out bags of donated items to all the families. Certainly not much by our standards but they were grateful. I had fun handing out colorful bandanas and old baseball caps of mine to the boys. (Hibe got the Royals cap and looked darn good in it.)

Our last minutes were spent in the shade hugging, holding hands and giving thanks. The matriarch of the village started singing. We had no idea what the words were but we knew exactly what she was saying. There was not a dry eye anywhere as her words tugged at our hearts and fed our souls.

That afternoon the ride back to our lodging was quiet; not loud and boisterous like they had been earlier in the week. This time the trees seemed greener, the sea bluer, the river whiter. We took it all in.

Saturday I was ready to go home. The heat and humidity had gotten to me. Being with the same group all week had gotten to me. Being away from my family had gotten to me. Sunday the trip home seemed long but I made it and it felt great!

Three days later I was ready to back!