Jake McSween - Anconia, Dominican Republic

Arrival

On June 18, 2017, I watched the dust being thrown up by the back of the Wahwah (tiny clown-like bus that somehow could fit 25 people when really should only have had 10) as it drove away down the dirt road back towards some semblance of civilization (La Ciudad de Anconia). It was close to dusk, and my overwhelmed mind seemed to believe that the Wahwah was driving into the sunset leaving me here for good. I turned towards my host-brother, Ricky, and slowly began to trudge all fifty-pounds of clothes, bug spray, and fishing line in total down the dirt path towards what was going to be called my "home" for the next month. I was shocked to say the least. As I looked around while my host-brother seemingly lead a blind, crippled to his home, I could see half-naked children peeping out from inside the wooden shack-like structure that for all of Anconia was a "respectable" house. Chickens and dogs crossed the road seemingly both clucking and growling at the Americano /blanco/gringo, for I was all those names yet felt like none of those. I arrived at my house and was told to throw my literal everything onto a bed covered with shoes in a room lit by nothing but the sun seeping through the cracks of the wooden slits closed by a simple pebble on the ventana. As I walked out of the room towards the blazing (apparently normal) Dominican heat, I thought to myself "well, we're here."

Culture Shock

After getting over my initial shock of my surroundings (no air conditioning, little electricity, and no phone service), I realize that I had been stuck in the middle of a completely new culture within the last hour. As we walked through community, I would hear shouts from inside houses that were immediately responded by a similar yet louder response from someone walking alongside me. I looked around trying to figure out who they were talking to but couldn't seem to find these phantom screamers. 

After walking for some time, I always seemed to find myself sitting under a tree in the ever appearing plastic lawn chairs that everyone seemed to be able to pull out of thin air but me. At first, I thought that these rest stops on our journey through the community to some activity would be temporary; but the second day however, I realized that sitting under the tree and talking with everyone WAS the activity. I was blown away. Never before had I thought that sitting under a tree talking with the people I have seen for everyday since forever could be something that would fill my time. For the Dominicans, however, talking under a tree was everything. 

Through our first days in community, I walked in and out of so many different houses that my mind felt as if I was in an unending maze that had infinite solutions yet at the same time none at all. Often while writing or reading in my room (which the Dominicans found very odd since no one needs personal time) I would see numerous people, and even one time a cat, going in and out of our house without saying a word as if it was their own. At first, this felt like an evasion of my own privacy, and I would get really frustrated with my host-brothers who would come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed with me. Yet, I finally began to realize that there wanting to spend time with me was a sign of my acclamation into Dominican culture. The food, the music, the dancing, the talking, everything was different yet it began to become mine as a community member who would fix me a meal would say, "oh you're a real Dominican now. You like la bandera." 

The Youth

In community, the most influential and outgoing personas were the youth. Each and every day, I along with my partners would run camps for the kids at the local community center, a rundown, beat up, basically just four standing walls building. Our lessons, though mostly games, were focused around topics from stopping
violence to equality of genders. During camps, the kids were always outgoing, though admittedly sometimes too outgoing. But the passion and the joy that these kids would get out of a simple game of duck, duck, goose (aka agua, agua, jabon) was inspiring. They didn't need technology or the latest gadget to make them happy. They just needed each other. 

On the basketball court, we found a connection deeper than the language. Each night, the entire community would come out to watch and participate in half chaos, half basketball as we would play deep into the night coming home drenched in sweat with raspy voices from the yelling. I became somewhat of a star on this hallowed court. Garnering a cheering section and having my very own signature celebration: "la flecha."

Food

In the Dominican Republic, the culture
consisted of a whole new diet. The main Dominican dish was called La Bandera and consisted of beans, rice, and fried chicken all mixed together. Along with La Bandera, we were served mixes of platano, mangu, spaghetti, and fish. Though it took awhile to get used to, the food was always delicious and more than enough.

Thank You

I would like to first thank the Wilson family for giving me this amazing opportunity to study abroad. This trip was an unforgettable experience that has changed what I want out of life. I would also like to thank Señor Paolicchi and Señora Victoria for helping with the process of applying and getting ready for my Amigos experience. I would also like to thank Señora Lanigan for teaching me this year in Spanish II.