A Transformational Journal by Jenny Weidler - July, 2003

How can I possibly sum up my experience in the Dominican Republic this summer? It is an overwhelmingly beautiful country. The people are even more so.

My group from St. Elizabeth Parish in South Kansas City, Missouri arrived in Santo Domingo on Friday, June 20^th. We had experience some delays in Miami and every one of us was very tired and hungry, and I would go so far as to say many of us were very cranky as well. It was well after dark when we arrived, so we could not see our new surroundings well as we drove to our hotel in Boca Chica. The first item of business for many in our group was food. Luckily there was a "burger-and-fries bar" at our disposal. The line was long, so I decided to check out the beach. I peeled off my sweaty shoes and socks and walked into the water. The warmth and clarity of the water, the gentle saltiness in the breeze ~ I was hooked. I knew immediately there was no shaking the Dominican Republic from my soul!

The "gua gua" carried us to Villa Nizao for work on Monday morning (amazingly without loosing anyone off the back of the vehicle). Many of the women and children were already waiting for us under the pavilion when we arrived at the village. Being an educator by profession, I had a bevy of "lesson plans" prepared for the children that week. When I realized that my high school Spanish (which is now over ten years old) was not as functional as I thought, those lesson plans went right out the window. Quickly switching gears, we simply passed out pages of coloring books and crayons. The children were ecstatic! I stepped back and thought, "Well, that was easier than I thought." I soon began to notice that the mothers were timidly pulling their children's pages closer to themselves and sneaking a crayon or two for their own creative expression. Embarrassed by my lack of consideration for the women, I passed out paper and colors to them, too. They weren't as outwardly enthusiastic, but no less appreciative. I was astonished how far those crayons and paper went throughout the week.

There were definitely moments of frustration and exhaustion coupled with all the awe and excitement of the trip. Thursday found our group further up the mountain side in the remote community of Charco Blanca, the building site of a new grade school. There weren't enough supplies to keep everyone in our group occupied at one time. It was very difficult for us product-oriented Americans to sit idly by as a handful of people worked (and not very efficiently in many opinions). As we were preparing to leave, two of the women in the community asked us to congregate closely to one another under the pavilion. The people of Charco Blanca encircled us. The two women began praying in thanksgiving for our presence in their community. We were the first non-indigenous people to ever visit them. Certainly they appreciated the materials and labor we offered, but it was more significant that we were there. It's not about what we can calculably do for others, or what we might get in return. It's about simply and sincerely being present to one another. Period. That realization knocked the wind out of me. It is a lesson I shall never forget.

The abundant hospitality of the Dominican people; the colorful colloquialisms of the Dominican language; the magnificent sounds of the ocean; the dizzy delight of dancing the Bachatta; celebrating an impromptu Mass with Padre Antonio in a hotel conference room with dinner rolls and a glass of wine; being able to buy machetes in the hardware store (and get them all into the US without event) -- I won't forget any of it. I plan to return as soon as I can to be sure that I don't.

Jenny Weidler

Director of Religious Education

St. Elizabeth Parish, Kansas City