A Tale of two cities...

Okay, so...

I'm already a month into my 2009 Dominican adventure and I am just now starting a write about it. A lot has happened in the first month. In reality, probably most of the exciting things that I am going to experience on this trip have already happened.

Where I live in now, Santiago, to me, is very boring. Don't get me wrong it's a beautiful city, probably one of the nicest cities in the Dominican or the island for that matter. But it's not really my style. I live on a quiet street. You don't see many people outside except for the occasional passing street vendor shouting "a comprar, a comprar" as his cart creeks down the street. His dingy clothes and slight Haitian accent are very out of place in a neighborhood like this.

I shouldn't complain. I guess it's nice to live in apartment where I can have electricity almost all the time and running water, and even air conditioning at night. These are a lot of Dominican first for me. But I guess usually when you gain some, you lose some. I miss Barahona.

I have spent three out of the four week I have in the county in Barahona and its surrounding Bateys. Barahona is where Tony’s family is. I guess in a way, its where a part of my family is as well. I have my three mothers—Tony’s mother, Alicia, and two of Tony’s adopted mothers; both who work with COTN, one as the director of hospitality and the other as a nurse and director of the clinic. Each encompass very differently motherly traits but all call me “hija”. I have my uncles Kuki and Juanchy, friends of Tony and all translators I have worked with in CO

TN and David, director of short term teams at the mission and someone we can always count out. I have my sisters and brothers from batey Algodon: Caraolina, Alejandra, Yunior and 9 year old Nata, who is the toughest kid I know. And then there are the all my hundreds of cousins, the children and youth from Algodon, Los Robles and Alta Gracia, whom which I have shared immense degrees of hospitalities and generosity and thousands of wonderful memories. Yes I do miss Barahona and the Bateys, where everyone sat outside their homes and I couldn’t get more than a few yards without hearing a child’s voice shouting

“Lorena! Lorena!”

I look outside my apartment window onto a very quiet, neat and clean street. I think it will take some getting used to, but I guess change always does.

For now,

Lauren

Santiago

Dominican Republic