República Dominicana

My experience written (by me) in Spanish for class. Words are as much of an art as any. Translation is below it.. Que Bueno!

Joshua Gale
Myron Avila
SP 1002 – Composition 1 (FINAL)
20 de Julio del 2010

República Dominicana

Era sólo yo. El avió aterrizó y el momento de la verdad llegó, el tiempo que mis padres estuvieron preocupados más que nada más por todo el viaje. No se me ocurrió a mí que, seguro, posiblemente es un poco loco—el hecho de que estoy volando a otro país para cncontrarme con una persona a quien yo no había conocido en el pasado; y yo sólo hablé con él través de la Internet. “Gracias por su vuelo con Delta! Pueden salir del avión e ir a su destino” Mis manos y pies se movieron correctamente—agarré mis mochilla y mi almohada, sali del avión, caminé delante de los otros esadounidenses confundidos que estuvieron en las colas para el baño, seguí caminando con seguridad, y recibí un jarjet a de turismo. Mi mente, sin embargo, etuvó pensando en el hecho de que tenía que encontrar a alguien que (se suponía) debía buscarme. La máquina utilizada para el equipaje se movió como pasajeros nerviosos, yo tambi´n, esperé el equipaje y recé para que no me lo robaran.
Por ultimo, caminé alrededor de una esquina parecía que mil ojos me miraban. Caminé más o menos diez pasos cuándo escuché, “Josh! Mi hermano!” Mi atención se dirigió a donde escuche la voz. “Chaggy!” yo dijé (en ingles), “I am SO glad to see you!” Había encontrado la persona que buscaba. Después de una viaje largo de cuatro horas, que, por cierto, incluyeron coches, autobuses y motocicletas, llegué a las casa donde viviría durante dos semanas. “Bienvenido a la República Dominicana! Esamos aquí!” No voy a decir que no me sentía asustado, o que mi repiración coró pero era gradable estar “en casa”. Había llegado a mi desino y yo que era un alivio.
La historia de mi llegada en resumen fue Buena. No sentí inseguridad pore star sólo, me excitó porque estaba en otro país, algo vital para mi corazaón y me experiencia de viaje a la Repúplica Dominicana. Mi objetivo era usar mi céamara para tomar fotos y tener un experiencia nueva con Dios en un diferente lugar… y un diferente idioma. Porque fui sólo, mi experiencia fue diferente de todas mis otros llegadas en el pasado, en todo el mundo. Fue nada más una sensación de seguridad con un grupo o mi familia. Estando sin otras personas conmigo, aprendí. Ahora comprendo la palabra “vulnerable” diferemente. Por primera vez en mi vida en otros países, sentí necesidad de cambiar—nootro personas. Esto es diferente a lo que conozco. Mi ego grande se hizo más pequeño y pude ver coss que no pude en el pasado. No fuí un turístico o un analista, sino otra persona del mundo, un amigo. Esta es la vida de ellos—aun si quisieran muchas personas no pueden cambiarla.
Yo tuve muchos trabajos cuándo fue allí. Yo trabajé con diferentes grupos de diferentes estados en lo Estados Unidos para los ciudadanos del país. Hice un piso para una iglesia en mi semana primera, y en mi segunda semana, ayudé a alimentar a la gente pobre en los pueblos de haití. Cuándo estuve en Haití, hice muchos trabajos. Pero mi favorito fue cuándo necesité usar mi cåmara para tomar fotos. A los niños les enantan las fotos. Quiero poner estas fotos en un galleria un día, per no sé cuándo. Aprendí cómo jugar béisbol don un tapa de botella y un palo—no bases necesarias. No pensé la última vez en esto en los Ustados Unidos! Tambien yo ayudé a muchos a ver porque les dimos gafas a personas que no pueden ver.

___________

Annnd.... The English Translation:

Joshua Gale

Myron Avila

SP 1002 – Composition 1 (Draft)

11 de Julio del 2010

República Dominicana

I was alone. The plane was landing and the moment of truth was slowly approaching, the time that my parents were more worried about than any other of my whole trip. It had not occurred to me that, sure, this might be a little bazaar- this whole flying to another country thing to meet up with a contact whom my only contact had been very limited conversations via the internet. “Thank you for flying with Delta! You may now leave the plane to move toward your destination.” My hands and feet were going through the motions- I grabbed my backpack and pillow, exited the plane, walked past all the other confused Americans who were backing up lines to the restroom in the airport, continued through customs, and received a card only tourists need (awesome.). My mind, though, it was focused on the fact that after I grab my luggage, I’d have to sort through a crowd of people and find the one that was (supposed to be) looking for me. The luggage belt churned as nervous passengers, including myself, wait for it to dispense his or her luggage and pray no one else steals it. Good- it’s there. I see it, I think.

Finally, I wheeled my luggage around a corner to see what felt like a thousand eyes looking at me. I walk about 10 steps before I hear, “Josh! My brother!” My attention darted to my right where the voice came from. “Chaggy!” I said. “I am SO glad to see you!” I met my contact. After a long four hour ride, which, by the way, included riding in taxis, buses, and dirtbikes, I arrived at the mission house where I would be staying for the next two weeks. “Welcome to the Dominican Republic! We are here!” I am not going to say that my breathing slowed very much and that my mind was no longer acute, but I can say that it felt nice. I made it to my destination and that was a relief.

I feel as if the story of my arrival into the country sums up the rest of my trip well. The uncertainty of what was next, insecurity of being alone, and thrill of being in another country are each vital parts of how I felt while in the Dominican Republic. My mission was to use my camera and take pictures of what I could and experience my God in a new way and different place… and in a different language.

Because I was there by myself, my experience was different than that of any other trip I have previously taken, particularly one out of the country. My sense of security with a group and friends or family was removed. Things change whenever you are the only person who can back you up, I found out. Vulnerability takes on a new meaning. I, for one of the first times in my foreign country experiences, felt as if I were the one who needed to conform according to their culture instead of the other way around. My swollen ego began to shrink and I was able to see their communities not as an analyst or a tourist, but as a fellow world citizen. These are their lives- most could not change if they wanted.

My job was that of many occupations when I was down there. I went with other American groups to the villages and communities- the first week I helped with concrete and helped tile a floor. My second week I worked in really poor villages called a bateys where refuge Haitians work all day with sugar cane for a miniscule amounts of money. While in the bateys, I did many things. My inner art major surfaced and I took many photographs that I hope can be exhibited some day in the United States. I played with kids and learned how to play baseball with a top of a jug and a stick- no bases necessary. I also gave out food to the families and assisted a group with equipping people with eye glasses who could not see.

            When I came home, many people, especially those from work, asked how my vacation was and I explained the work that I accomplished there as well as how beautiful the beaches were and other funny stories. They replied, “Why that is no vacation at all!” To some, maybe lots, they were right. Sure, I did not do lots of relaxing and sun bathing, but I feel that this vacation away from the hustle and bustle of the United States and that this vacation from work and school is the best I have ever had.