Compartir and Guaguas

Hola! Welcome to my first public blog post ever 🙂

Throughout my travels, I’ve always been hesitant to publish a blog in fear of censoring myself and not being true to what I am feeling and experiencing. As I begin my journey in the US Peace Corps, I realize that this experience is bigger than myself and is worth being shared. The third mission of the Peace Corps (to help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans) also helped inspire this blog. Honestly, I’m not expecting to be posting much on here since I’d like to focus as much as possible on my other projects, goals, and hobbies, but will try to make an effort to write on a semi-regular schedule. Here goes nothin.

On August 20th, my entire training group flew to Miami for staging. At first, I didn’t really understand the need to herd all 40 of us to a US city just to fly out again early the next morning, but it all makes sense to me now. It gave us a chance to step back and take a more realistic look at what we’re getting ourselves into, and offered a judgment-free environment for anyone to back out before arriving to the Dominican Republic. It was comforting to put the names and faces to my cohort members and hear more about the Peace Corps’ expectations of us. 

At 5am the next morning, we gathered our obnoxiously massive bags and piled onto two buses to take us to the Miami airport. I was glad to see that no one was scared off just yet by the presentations the day before, and all 40 of us were there to check-in to our flight. 

A man with a shiny badge escorted us to a “priority” security screening area which made us feel big and important (our mandatory business casual outfits helped with the look). The 2-hour-and-15-minute flight then felt like a blink. We almost took over the entire back half of the plane, excitedly sharing our hopes and fears while putting on our best faces for the strangers seated next to us who were soon to become our family. As we made our descent to Santo Domingo, I peered over from my aisle seat to catch a glimpse of swaying palm trees and glowing turquoise water. Ten months prior, I was clicking submit on my Peace Corps application. And now it was happening. We arrived.

To my surprise, I actually felt nothing when the plane landed. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or the lack of caffeine in my system. Or the fact that I’d already thrown myself into seemingly countless situations in the past few years where I knew nothing about the place I’d just arrived to or the experience that lingered in my future. It all just felt so normal, almost routine at this point. 

But I know that this time is different. The growth, challenges, and responsibilities that come with this opportunity will undoubtedly outweigh any that I’ve experienced before. Clueless but ready as I’d ever be, I stepped off the plane and onto Dominican soil.

The group split into our two sectors (Education & Youth Development) and was shipped off in little buses with frilly pink curtains to a retreat center for our first night. With bags under our eyes and trails of sweat dripping behind us, we absorbed more important information, got some mug shot-esque photos taken for our fancy Peace Corps IDs, were injected with the first of many vaccines, and were equipped with mosquito nets and insect repellant. We were ready to take on the world. 

That evening was spent laughing, chatting, and playing card games with my new Training Group members. Everyone’s open-mindedness, humility, and eagerness to get to know one another made me even more excited to be a part of this cohort. We were now in a place where we no longer had to explain to anyone why we’re doing what we’re doing. Despite the different paths, backgrounds, and motives that brought each of us here, we all just get it. And that’s a beautiful thing. 

It is now Day 12 in-country but feels a bit more like Week 12. We’ve all gotten settled into our individual host family’s homes since Day 2 and have been soaking in all the newness. New people, surroundings, language, culture, food, sounds, and smells. 

Although the Dominican Republic is geographically close to the United States, it is exceedingly different in so many ways. One of the most prominent differences I’ve noticed is the collectivist mindset as opposed to America’s individualist perspective. In the DR, people look out for each other. To compartir, or spend time with one another, is a way of life. It is well understood that if you pass by people you know, you better take the time to greet each person individually and catch up on each of their lives. It is worth being late for a meeting/ appointment/ practice if it means maintaining a relationship with someone. That connection is far more important than being on time for something.

If you open your snack on a bus, it is seen as rude to not offer to share it with those around you (today my Doña offered heaping plates of pasta to a group of random teen boys on the beach – one boy rejected and she continued to yell at him from 50 feet away, saying she knows he’s hungry and needs to come eat immediately). 

The modes of public transportation also contribute to the “we’re all in this together” mindset. In Santo Domingo (where the first 3 out of 10 weeks of Pre-Service Training are located), the main ways of getting around are guaguas and carros públicos. 

Guaguas are old minibuses/vans that would safely fit about 15-19 passengers but tend to hold 50+. People are hanging out of the open doors and the vents where the air conditioning once operated have been removed to allow for extra methods of holding on for your life. People are squished together so tightly that you never know if the moisture on your body is your own sweat or your neighbor’s (probably a mixture of both, who are we kidding). When your destination approaches, you yell out a “me quedo aquí”, toss 35 pesos to the cobrador, and either wait for everyone in front of you to file out just so you can get off or you somehow maneuver your body through or around them. Maybe I’ll try crowd surfing on my next guagua ride.

Then there’s the carros públicos. These are old, broken-down 5-passenger sedans that look like they may crumble at any given moment. Sometimes there are holes in the floor so you get a nice view of the road passing underneath you. These vehicles are registered with the city and have specific routes that they follow. No matter if you take it one block or through the entire route, it only costs you 25 pesos. The catch is that four or five full-grown adult humans (and sometimes animals) are packed in the back while three are in the front. On my last carro público ride, the lady next to me was kind enough to give us a full tutorial on best practices for backseat passengers. The smallest people should sit in the middle with their butts as far forward as possible, while the broader-hipped passengers sit all the way back, angling themselves to fill the empty spaces. This method of human body Tetris worked wonders.

From the limited expertise that I’ve gained in my 12 days in the Dominican Republic, I can confidently claim that Dominicans are the most outgoing, hilarious, inclusive, vibrant, helpful, and lively group of people I’ve met throughout my travels thus far (aside from Cubans – maybe something’s in the water in the Caribbean). This of course is an enormous generalization that does not apply to every individual or recognize the rocky historical tension with Haiti, the DR’s neighbor to the west, but the passion, love, and welcoming nature that I’ve been exposed to so far has been unparalleled in my personal experiences. It also cannot go unsaid that the privileges that come with being a young, white, able-bodied, cis woman with an American passport have also highly influenced the ways in which I have been perceived and, in turn, how I have perceived others.

I’m hoping to dive deeper in coming blog posts and cover more topics (what Pre-Service Training is like, what it’s like to be living with a host family again, how my Spanish is doing, some more background on my past experiences abroad, my goals for the next 27 months, how I’ve managed to create “home” in various places, and more).

This week I’ll be traveling towards the Haitian border to stay with a current Peace Corps Volunteer in her Batey community for a few days. I’m looking forward to venturing out of the Santo Domingo area, observing a Volunteer in action, and continuing to figure out the meanings of the endless Dominican slang words.