When our bus departed, I felt conflicted. I was setting off to a foreign country I’d never been to, with people who spoke a language I didn't, alongside people I barely knew and with that came a fear that felt like a large ball lodged in my throat. But at the same time, there was a sense of nervous excitement. I couldn’t help but feel that I would look back on this trip quite fondly and I couldn’t wait to find out what I’d be looking back on.
When we finally arrived in the community of La Palma it was already afternoon and there were many kids from the local community playing, and many of my fellow tripmates were quick to join in. The community welcomed us with open arms and a small dance performance where they pulled us in to dance with them, foresight into the general nature of the community. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing with the kids and speaking with the adults present. Through the help of the translators, I was able to learn a bit more about the community, but I remained apprehensive and uncomfortable, though my goal was to embrace the uncomofrtableness
Over the next week, we woke up early, ate breakfast and set to work every day to finish at least a quarter of the court. We’d shovel gravel and sand into buckets which we’d then transport through lines to a machine that churned the concrete. The workers there would then pour out the concrete smooth it out and clean it up after it dried. The sun was hot and the humidity made it even more uncomfortable but we were motivated and worked hard. Even better, the community came out every day, whether they were young or old, and helped us to every degree. Those who were fit helped shovel the sand and gravel, while those who were older helped us transport buckets and those who were younger would even fill the water bottles we had brought with us. After we were done, we’d eat lunch and spend the afternoon with the local community at the school. Everyone in the community was welcoming and tried their best to bridge the gap between our two vastly different groups of people with different experiences, leading to us bonding over the littlest things, whether it was through the enjoyment of soccer, as we did with the girl’s soccer team that we met, or through dance, as I did with some of the mothers who were there. In the evenings we’d often leave the school to visit different areas around the school, such as to the local palm oil and pineapple plantations, where we learned about how the plantations worked as well as how they helped the community, or to the main town, where we ate ice cream and even attended mass. Every day of the week, I felt more at ease alongside the community members, as well as the members of the trip. In the end, when we finally left the community, I was as split as I was when I arrived, but for different reasons. Over the course of the week, I’d come to be a bit more homesick and naturally miss some of the comforts and luxuries of home, but I also felt surprisingly comfortable amongst the community, socially. It was especially shocking due to how I could barely hold a conversation with any of the community members without a translator present. As we finally pulled back into the Jesuit High school parking lot, I thought back to what I thought as I left, and decided that I was right in my initial expectation. I knew that I would look back fondly on it.
Through the trip to the Dominican Republic, I learned many small things. Wether it was how to play Dominos, how to share aspects of myself with others that I could barely even talk to, and most importantly that despite the many ways that we’re pictured as different, all of us are ultimately the same. I’d always been told it, but in the Dominican Republic, in the community of La Palma, I could feel it. Wether it was the food that reminded me of home in India, the dances that felt the same as when I danced at home with my friends or the moments when people seemed to swell together just to gush over one person and make sure they’re all right, as all my friend’s moms did back home, all of it reminded me of home. Even though I could barely understand what I was hearing when they spoke, their laughs felt clear to me. And I saw it in the nature around me too. The hills in the distance reminded me of the mountains I can see from my home, and after it rained the smell of the wet trees harkened back to the downpours I’d experienced in India. I don’t think I went through some kind of spiritual alteration that I never would have otherwise, or it changed my world view entierely, but also wouldn’t say that I gained nothing of matter from this trip. Rather, it gave me the opportunity to sit down, calm myself, and take a chance to see and experience the world with its people in the way that I knew in my heart they were: different and unique on the outside, alike on the inside, and beautiful, through and through.
When we finally arrived in the community of La Palma it was already afternoon and there were many kids from the local community playing, and many of my fellow tripmates were quick to join in. The community welcomed us with open arms and a small dance performance where they pulled us in to dance with them, foresight into the general nature of the community. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing with the kids and speaking with the adults present. Through the help of the translators, I was able to learn a bit more about the community, but I remained apprehensive and uncomfortable, though my goal was to embrace the uncomofrtableness
Over the next week, we woke up early, ate breakfast and set to work every day to finish at least a quarter of the court. We’d shovel gravel and sand into buckets which we’d then transport through lines to a machine that churned the concrete. The workers there would then pour out the concrete smooth it out and clean it up after it dried. The sun was hot and the humidity made it even more uncomfortable but we were motivated and worked hard. Even better, the community came out every day, whether they were young or old, and helped us to every degree. Those who were fit helped shovel the sand and gravel, while those who were older helped us transport buckets and those who were younger would even fill the water bottles we had brought with us. After we were done, we’d eat lunch and spend the afternoon with the local community at the school. Everyone in the community was welcoming and tried their best to bridge the gap between our two vastly different groups of people with different experiences, leading to us bonding over the littlest things, whether it was through the enjoyment of soccer, as we did with the girl’s soccer team that we met, or through dance, as I did with some of the mothers who were there. In the evenings we’d often leave the school to visit different areas around the school, such as to the local palm oil and pineapple plantations, where we learned about how the plantations worked as well as how they helped the community, or to the main town, where we ate ice cream and even attended mass. Every day of the week, I felt more at ease alongside the community members, as well as the members of the trip. In the end, when we finally left the community, I was as split as I was when I arrived, but for different reasons. Over the course of the week, I’d come to be a bit more homesick and naturally miss some of the comforts and luxuries of home, but I also felt surprisingly comfortable amongst the community, socially. It was especially shocking due to how I could barely hold a conversation with any of the community members without a translator present. As we finally pulled back into the Jesuit High school parking lot, I thought back to what I thought as I left, and decided that I was right in my initial expectation. I knew that I would look back fondly on it.
Through the trip to the Dominican Republic, I learned many small things. Wether it was how to play Dominos, how to share aspects of myself with others that I could barely even talk to, and most importantly that despite the many ways that we’re pictured as different, all of us are ultimately the same. I’d always been told it, but in the Dominican Republic, in the community of La Palma, I could feel it. Wether it was the food that reminded me of home in India, the dances that felt the same as when I danced at home with my friends or the moments when people seemed to swell together just to gush over one person and make sure they’re all right, as all my friend’s moms did back home, all of it reminded me of home. Even though I could barely understand what I was hearing when they spoke, their laughs felt clear to me. And I saw it in the nature around me too. The hills in the distance reminded me of the mountains I can see from my home, and after it rained the smell of the wet trees harkened back to the downpours I’d experienced in India. I don’t think I went through some kind of spiritual alteration that I never would have otherwise, or it changed my world view entierely, but also wouldn’t say that I gained nothing of matter from this trip. Rather, it gave me the opportunity to sit down, calm myself, and take a chance to see and experience the world with its people in the way that I knew in my heart they were: different and unique on the outside, alike on the inside, and beautiful, through and through.