Green Gem

La virgen de la Altagracia

On Monday, January 21^st, the Dominican Republic celebrated el día de la Virgen de la Altagracia, a Catholic holiday in honor of the country’s own saint/virgin (in my experience, this is a common phenomenon in Latin American countries). It was also the ninth and final day of the funeral of my host mother’s mom, my host grandma, if you will.

This day didn't go quite as planned for me, due to my previously mentioned past experiences, so naturally, it was as perfect and wonderful as a Catholic holiday and funeral could be. Explanation:

Growing up, I was a type A personality, or a green gem, as I have recently learned by a stroke of luck. Everything had an order and a plan, and I felt content only once those were made and followed. Ew…

A picture I actually took, jeez.

When I was in Perú, I was sixteen years old. I was confined to the houses of my host families unless I was with them. I was also naïve and young, so it was probably the best policy. However, I was lonely and sad with the first family, as they would often leave me at the house. When we did leave the house, and whenever I did anything with the second host family, it was always planned ahead of time. I felt pretty secure, as you can imagine.

I slowly began drifting from my type A ways in college, and during the summer of 2012, I traveled to Bolivia with my professor, his wife, and a couple other Anthropology students. Over the 12 week experience, plans were infrequently made and never followed. I had to ask each night, each breakfast, each lunch if we were to be doing something later that day. I need to emphasize: ALL PLANS WERE BROKEN. 

Musicians playing at an unexpected lunch in
el campo of the Copacabana peninsula, Boliva.

At breakfast, I might discover that we’d be leaving in an hour to go to a rural comunidad to talk about the town’s future archaeological prospects for an hour or two. Upon arrival, we would receive a lunch, and dance, and drink. Then we might talk about the said purpose of the trip for an hour, maybe. Then we’d do a surface survey, and eat a dinner, and dance, and drink until 10pm. This was a regular occurrence. As a mentee receiving 6 credits for this trip, I needed to follow my professor’s every whim. 

A site survey which included a lot of discussion
on future full excavations and tourism potential.

This lead to the deconstruction of my need for plans and for following plans over the course of the summer. I started out as aggravated, which progressed to being pretty enojada. But over time, I began to pack extra warm clothes for those cold Bolivian evenings, and toilet paper (formal bathrooms were kind of absent in el campo). I learned to talk to la gente, for hours, to get to know them and to let them get to know me, and it may seem odd, but this was hard to do when I couldn’t see the purpose in putting my energies there, in wasting their time, brainspace, in wasting mine. I created bonds. Later, after not seeing the people of this small rural village for weeks, I would stop in the streets of Copacabana to talk to them when they were in town running errands, because during those six extra, unplanned hours in their pueblo, we began to matter to each other. It was truly beautiful. I loved that. I still love that. I’m so proud of that. It makes my heart swell.

So, now I'm here. And when after the mass on Monday my neighbor asked me if I’d like to return to the apartment with her and my friend or stay at the house of the family for an unknown period of time and return with my host family in the late evening, I chose to stay. My first fleeting thought, feeling really, could be described as this could be treacherous. But then I remembered my desire to know the Dominican people, to create bonds with them that create more heaven color moments in the world. How could I do that, see that color, from my bedroom in an empty apartment, alone?

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