runner's high + pictures = a very happy blog

The wind has changed, my friends. Gracias a Dios. It changed on Saturday, September 18, exactly one month after I arrived in the Dominican Republic. Because on Saturday, September 18, I had a once-in-a-blue-moon Perfect Day. I had spent Friday night in La Romana, a region on the eastern coast of the island, with other students from my study abroad group. We woke up early and boarded a boat for Isla Saona, an island in the middle of the Caribbean accessible only by an hour and half boat ride.

Isla Saona

It started with the sun shining down on us in all its radiance. The perfect sun was complemented by the perfect sky, as blue as I’d ever seen it. There was the perfect boat complete with a giant hammock. Then there was the perfect music – merengue and bachata, of course – on the deck, which happened to be perfect for dancing.  

los americanos on the boat, pre-sunburn

My Perfect Day got even better upon our arrival at the island, which had perfect clear blue water and perfect white sand. The water felt perfect, the shore was perfect for exploring, and the locals were perfectly patient in teaching this not-so-perfect dancer. I found a perfect shell and held a perfect starfish. I successfully convinced another eager Dominican that I was not perfect for him and yet had a perfectly pleasant interaction. On the way home, I ate my two favorite Dominican dishes: mangú and yuca, both of which were prepared perfectly and for a perfect price (around $1.25 for both). My Perfect Day ended perfectly, with a long, sweet night of sleep. Yes, I walked away with a bit of a sunburn, but who cares? It’s a souvenir from my Perfect Day!

Mangú: a traditional Dominican dish made with plantains, onions and oil

It’s strange considering that exactly one month ago today, I cried four times within a 24-hour period. I’m not talking a few tears welling up in my eyes; I mean I bawled. I couldn’t imagine surviving here for four more months. But I’m still alive! And what’s more, I think I’m on the brink of more than survival. I think I’m going to thrive.

So what has changed other than my Perfect Day, you ask? Circumstantially, not too much. It’s still hot, Dominicans still speak quickly, and my best friends still live thousands of miles away. But while the DR hasn’t changed, I’m able to see my own evolution, slowly but surely.

For one thing, I do understand much more than I did a month ago. When I first arrived, I could probably understand less than 10% of what was said. Now I’d say my comprehension is about 60% on average (with my classroom comprehension about 75% and my “street” comprehension about 50%). Which is clearly still not great, but I take what I can get.

I’ve learned to celebrate my victories, no matter how small. Like being able to take public transportation alone or convince my taxi driver to lower his price by fifty pesos. I’ve learned to really relish accomplishments that wouldn’t normally cause me to bat an eyelash, like getting an “A” on my first literature paper or buying international stamps at the post office. I’ve learned to accept compliments, even if they’re not entirely flattering: “You’re a good dancer. I mean, for a beginner” or “Your accent is getting much better. When you first got here, I couldn’t understand a word you said”.

I've learned to take chances. Yesterday I was running around my campus, which is a great big circle, when I heard a voice say, "Oye, americana. Corre con nosotros." "Hey, American. Run with us." I turned to see two men, both of whom looked very Dominican and very fast. But then I did something entirely out of character: I followed them. We took off, away from the main road and down toward the soccer field. Around the field and through the bushes. And for the next mile we ran together, they were entirely gracious, both about my Spanish and my inability to run as fast as they would've liked. (I don't feel too bad about that, though -- one of them had just come in second place in a marathon.) As I take more chances with Dominicans, I discover  more and more of who they are and the beauty that is inherent within both of us.

in La Romana