A Shattering Resilience

I need a place to share my Faith and Social Justice Experience with everyone, and I figure this is the easiest way. I kept a journal the entire time and will share what events happened each day.

This experience was a way for us to learn the culture of Dominicans as well as to understand some social injustices that are present in the Dominican and the programs that are designed to fight these injustices. We're going to take what we learned in this experience and apply it to our lives here at home- to fight the injustices that surround us here.

After 9 months of preparation, we left the diocese center at 12 last night. We drove to Halifax and waited for our flight to New York. I can now say I've been to the United States, even if it's just four hours in an airport. Our flight to Santo Domingo was quite uneventful, with the exception of a bit of turbulence. After sleeping away most of the day, we landed in the airport and were met by Wendy and Juan. We took our suitcases to Juan's truck-a random man grabbed mine out of my hand and tried to convince me Juan had paid him to help out. Luckily for me, the guy was telling the truth and my suitcase made it safely to the truck. We started on our first of what's likely to be many trips to the center that we're staying at. On the way, we stopped at a corner store or Colmado for water. We met a 12 year old boy named Jeff and a few of his friends. Their main goal seemed to be to impress us with their bike skills. It was quite funny. After a few minutes, we continued our 1.5 hour drive to the center- taking in the palm trees, monuments and intense traffic as we drove. Some of the houses were built onto the sides of mountains-we're told this is pretty dangerous because every time it rains, the houses risk sliding down the mountain. I can't imagine living with that kind of uncertainty. The people here seem so laid back. They always seem to be in groups-whether it's hanging out at the corner store or riding 6 on a motorcycle! When we got to the center, I was pretty amazed. There's every possible kind of fruit tree staring you in the eye as soon as you walk in. The rooms in the center are quite simple-just bunk beds and cement floors, but the environment and people around the center are amazing. We were treated to a delicious supper by our cooks Rosa and Beatrice, and now we're headed to bed early to get ready for tomorrow!

Today, we visited the Intec University, and listened to a talk on teen pregnancy in the Dominican. We then headed to the Botanical Gardens. It was beautiful! There were plants from all across the world in one place. We went on a train ride around the gardens and the tour guide spoke English. It was such a relief to not have to have everything translated. After the garden, we headed to a Women's health center. The lady that ran the center was amazing. It was a place that women could go and receive treatment- whether it be natural medicine, acupuncture, massage, or psychological support. There was bazaar there, so we looked around and bought some stuff and now we're back at the center relaxing.

Today was a day that I'm not sure I can even put into words. I don't completely understand it, and I'm positive those I share it with won't understand either. Today has completely made me rethink my life. I live comfortably in my house. In a free country. Where I can say what I want, do what I want, worship who I want. I live in a house with nine bedrooms. One for everyone. And they aren't small. I have a double bed all to myself. I have food on the table for every meal and more in the cupboard when I just want a snack. There's a stove for me to cook it on. There's a roof over my head every night. I have a ton of toys saved in boxes from when I was younger that are never-and that's just the tip of the iceberg. I've graduated high school and attend a university that will one day lead me into a job that will allow me to sustain myself. In fact, I already have a job that gives me more than enough money to meet my needs. The more I think, the more I realize how much I take for granted.

Today, we visited an organization that works in bateys or sugar cane communities. As we listened to a presentation on how these people, who had grown up in bateys, worked to help give education, health and HIV/AIDS awareness to the people in the communities, we heard about how many people were living with HIV and the majority of them didn't know it. We learned that while most kids never finish school, there were members of the community that volunteered to teach. Children couldn't get documentation because their parents illegally immigrated-which means they don't actually exist according to the state and will never be able to attend school or get a job. Parents worked long hours in the sugar cane fields and weren't paid anywhere close to enough to even get food on the table. As we heard all the hard realities, we patiently waited for lunch time to roll around-where we were fed a buffet style meal that gave us more than enough to be filled. We got in the van and were told that we were driving to see a batey. I'm not sure any of us expected what met our eyes.

The moment we entered the batey, a man glanced our way. His eyes were so dark and cold that it was quite clear he didn't want us there. It's understandable after all. Rich, white tourist invading your home. There's nothing cool about that. When the van stopped, I didn't want to leave it. I felt like I was intruding. But as I stepped out, I was quickly comforted. A young girl-no more than six or seven- grabbed my hand, smiled, and didn't let go. We started to tour the batey. We looked at the cabins-which reminded me of horse stables. There were long buildings with 7 or so openings in each building. As we stepped inside a building, we saw a 12x5 foot room divided in half by a curtain. Each family, regardless of size, was given a 6x5 room to live in. This was their house. Their kitchen, bedroom, living room, family room. For the most part, they cooked outside in a coffee tin using charcoal. When it rains, they bring their tin inside. Our facilitator, Cathy, asked if we could see the cane cutters at work. The reply was quite shocking. Our guide told us that it wouldn't be safe to walk across the field. Their were no bathrooms, so they simply used the grass. Sewage leaked across the entire batey in streams, but the children ran around in bare feet. We were proudly shown the baseball field-a warn down patch of grass- and the houses that visitors stayed in when they came to practice. We saw the school, the health center, a dance hall, and were told how first generation Haitians were separated from the second and third generation who were separate from the Dominicans. We continued to walk around, a child or two or three had all taken our hand by then. It seemed like we were some kind of hope for them and that if they hung around something good would happen. But we quickly got in the van and left. We did nothing for them, yet they gave us knowledge that we could never have imagined. My head was filled with questions.. "How is this fair?" "Why isn't anyone doing anything?" "Why was I born in Canada and not one of them?" We were told to find signs of hope in our visit but I was drawing a blank.

When we got into the van, we were told we were heading for another batey. I didn't know if I could handle it, but as we arrived at the next one, I could instantly see a difference. Kelvin, one of the men that had spoke to us this morning, told us this was the batey he grew up in. He took us to the church-that they also used as a school. He showed us the library of books they had and the computers that were given to them. We sat down on a bench and his father brought us over a pile of sugar cane. They were sharing the little that they had with us. When we were finished, we walked down the road to where the people of the batey lived. The change from the first was unbelievable. The roads were paved. Although the school was small and cramped, it was well used- offering classes both to adults and kids. Across the street there was a tech school where people could share the ten computers to learn technology. As we walked through the streets we saw that the town had all the basic needs and that although the houses weren't big by any means, they were a lot better than the ones we'd seen before. Kelvin went on to tell us that this batey was the richest in the country. It wasn't because they were chosen or won a lottery or anything of the likes. The people simply realized that they weren't being treated fairly, and they stood their ground and fought for what they needed. We asked him how he kept hope. He told us that everyday, this is the life of his people. Even a hint of something getting better was enough for him to keep his hope.

We left that batey, visited a free zone and stopped for ice cream in Sammy Sosa's city on the way home. We didn't do anything to help those people. And as awful as it might sound, I don't think we need to. They had their own people working for them. They were empowering themselves to break the chain and get a better life. They had so much hope that it makes us as rich North Americans look ridiculous. We complain over slow computers or not enough name brand clothes. We need the latest technologies and we like things fast and now-we don't care who it brings down in the process. We're so concerned with me. We have so much the people of the bateys didn't have. And yet, they have so much we need. Their sense of community, unity, passion, commitment and hope easily put us to shame.

It's not them I need to help. They'll do that. It's my life I need to get into order first, and then, when it's the right time, I'll start helping to empower others around me-maybe eventually we as North Americans will be able to see what's truly important in life.