Mission: Possible

By Colin (written immediately following our return from Altagracia)

Both times that I have returned from La Altagracia, I have been overwhelmed with feelings that I have never experienced in my entire life.  I am realizing that, at least for me, all of La Altagracia – all the sites, sounds, smells, and tastes  – takes a lot of time to process.

As I slept in the back of Berjica and Moises’ house, well… I could never really sleep.  It’s not the 30 fighting cocks that are housed there that keep me awake (I learned to bring ear plugs); it is the excitement that I feel in this community, doing international service.  This is my absolute passion.

Now that I am home, I still have trouble sleeping.  I wake up in the middle of the night and feel as though, just as in the tiny Dominican village of Altagracia, I am surrounded by tiny smiling faces. Those faces that call out my name everywhere I go…”COLIN! COLIN!” I hear, expecting a question, or a demand, or a complaint.  But no.  That is not how things work.  They just want to let me know that they are there.  They are just excited to see me.  I feel like a celebrity.

The colors of Altagracia

After spending a year fundraising, speaking about our efforts to countless people, initiating drives for school supplies, personal hygiene materials, and sports equipment, we were finally back, and even more so, I felt the cariño of the community.

Quickly I realized how much our return meant to so many people.  The people there remembered every detail of our trip the previous year.  They hung on to every inside joke, every nickname, every story. Every person that was present for our visit last year asked fervently about those members of the group that did not return with us this year.  “Y Kevin? Como esta? Porque no regreso’?”  “Why didn’t CJ come back?”

The work in Altagracia is hard, but with the entire community helping, it makes it so much easier.  After working so many construction type jobs, both for work and for my family, often it seems like the guy who breaks his back the fastest and works the hardest gets the respect.  But, that’s not the case in Altagracia.  Everyone owns a share in the construction of a house, or a school, or whatever it is that is being built.  The point is not to burn yourself out for credit.  It is to work together and accomplish something important for the community.

MP Members team up with Altagracians to deliver food to the elders

When I was growing up in Kirkland, Washington, I don’t think my neighbors could tell you that my brothers, Dad, and I built a retaining wall in our back yard, a drainage ditch,  pulled down trees, or any other of the strenuous projects that we constructed that took years to complete. But in Altagracia, this community is whole.  The paint stains are on every hand, the sweat drenches every shirt, the sand, cement, and water is hauled by every man, woman and child, to create concrete for an elderly woman with one leg, lost in her battle with diabetes, whose wheelchair  just will not navigate a gravel floor.  And as she patiently watches while both visitors and residents construct a carefully, and resourcefully designed concrete floor, each one of her grandchildren, as they arrive home in the afternoon from school, in their bright blue shirts, one by one, greet her with a kiss and embrace.  Thier allegiance and love for their family is built into them, as if never to question family or what it means.  “Hola, mamá! Como está?”

This community heart beats to the rhythm of bachata, merengue, and salsa.  The eloquent moves on the dance floor come so easily to everyone, from the toddler who just learned to walk, to Berjica, the President of the Women’s Association.  Although our steps were unrefined and undoctored, every person in the community was ready to ask us to dance and teach us the steps (uno, doh, treh..) as Frank Reyes asked, “Quien, quien eres tu?”  Who…who are you?

But as side-bursting, laugh-inspiring as Matula’s jokes are, and as good as the arepa tastes, and as fun as the dance is in front of the tienda, this community does face overwhelming issues, from a non-existent access to healthcare to the realization of young Algenis that instead of going to college and becoming an engineer, he has to fight his way to try and make it as a major league pitcher.

Members of our group were devastated when a handful of us went to pass out medical supplies in neighboring Mata Los Indios.  A gentleman was stricken with a crippling, yet treatable leg infection.  What this man had required were antibiotics, maybe amputation, and definitely medical supervision.  What he received from us was a few unqualified law students, armed with hand sanitizer and cotton balls.   Our group members were infuriated to see something like this.  One member, after the incident, as tears of frustration ran down her cheeks, told Victoria and Edi, “I was angry that I saw what I saw, and that I was completely useless and unprepared.”  Edi responded, “I like to see people cry, not because I enjoy that they are sad, but because I like to see the emotion that they are experiencing.”

Laundry dries outside an Altagracia home

Although I was not present for this incident, it was still important for everyone.  Poverty-stricken people, such as those in Monte Plata, face unascertainable difficulty because of their poverty.  I am not happy that this man is suffering, or that our group members saw something inconceivably brutal.  But this situation represents the difficulty of so many people with treatable diseases who only lack the funds, resources and means to attain proper healthcare and medical attention.  This frustration can be a daily occurrence for these people.  The fact that our group member felt that feeling is important. It is truly something that no one should have to feel.  But we can’t ignore it; this problem exists.  I like to see people cry.

Just as Vicky, our Sister Island Project host said, the poverty in Monte Plata is an ECONOMIC poverty.  But the riqueza of culture, of faith, of community, and of family all demonstrate that I have lived my life a poor man.

However, as I left this year, I felt as though progress is being made in Altagracia.  A strong foundation, like the floors that we forged, has been laid there.  Seeds that were planted last year have grown into trees.  Things ARE getting better.  can safely say that I have worked hard to be a part of something so beautiful and rewarding.

This is in part because, for the last two years, I have felt as though I receive more love in 5 days in Altagracia, than I do 360 days in the United States.  For all the time away, I miss my friends and familia in Altagracia.

Si Dios quiere, I want to come back and be a part of the best community/family/culture/love that I have ever been a part of.  I want to come back and see those tiny, beautiful, smiling faces grow into a better community where healthcare, education and other dreams become a reality.