to greet/saludar

This past weekend marked my first excursion out of the capital, Santo Domingo. With the help of a great friend, we rented an SUV and set off for some two-tracking, off-roading greatness. We pulled out of town on Friday around 2:00 and hit the road, destination Miches. This remote, virgin beach paradise is located on the northeast of the country and involves traversing many pueblos, climbing multiple hills and mountains, and a killer driver to get there. We managed all of those and arrived to a destination Lonely Planet told us not to even bother trying to get to...hah!

The drive was a gorgeous thing, including coastline and highways that eventually led us to small towns with broken pavement and dirt roads We passed through pueblos en los campos full of corrugated metal homes the size of a standard bedroom, laundry blowing in the breeze, bare-bottomed babies running after older siblings, working men and women, colmados blaring merengue and bachata rhythms, comedors and chimi stands preparing Dominican foods, burros lugging a day's work on their backs, gallos running and squawking, probably amping themselves up for the night's approaching cock fight, and the happiest vacas I have ever seen with floppy rabbit ears quietly pacing, grazing and standing the day away! As we drove by homes and towns, waving at every person we passed, I was quickly overwhelmed with the absolute human kindness present. Everyone we greeted, waved back to us and lit up with a smile saying money, resources, and power are not the only keys that unlock happiness. Thus, this week's verb is mostly definitely saludar. To greet is to make the acquaintance of a stranger, if even for a moment, thus opening a line of communication with someone with whom you have no previous connection.

Now, I don't give this description to romanticize the Dominican country-side and blur out the affect abject poverty has on the lives of so many of this country's people. Poverty is a reality here. It is an injustice and a struggle that way too many Dominicans share as a lived experience. Those with more resources in this country and people from abroad should be learning about the plight many face here and lend an appropriately helpful hand that will help empower communities. However, all too often I hear Westerners say things like, "Well, it's a beautiful place, but the people are just so poor...it's so sad." And when I hear this line and listen to this pity, I am reminded of places like Miches and the countryside I drove through to get there. Places where people have very little resources, yet they hand you mangos, chinolas, or limoncillos picked fresh from the trees behind their homes. Places where education, health care, a bed to sleep on, and, in some cases, a daily meal are unsure, yet many people have light in their eyes and greet you with genuine smiles. Beams that hold within them a true joy for life. I'm not talking about the medicated happiness too often sought after in my country. I'm describing a deep sense of place and peace. This condition of contentment is something that exists a lot outside of my country, in areas we deem "third world", areas we are trying to save. Sometimes I think they need to be saving us, too. Perhaps an exchange of salvation.

Back to the story at hand...after a three hour trip (which involved stopping for the BEST natural juice batida of my LIFE) we landed at Cocoloco Beach Club, just in time for a birthday party extravaganza that night! This little spot, tucked away and relatively untraveled, is owned by a Swiss woman who, like many Europeans I have met here, came one year and never went home. She has been running these cabañas for sometime now and has no plan of ever returning to the cold of Geneva. We stayed there for two nights eating wonderful seafood and walking the sandy beaches the encircled us. On Saturday, we trekked out to a pristine, blow-your-mind beautiful beach that was accompanied by a palm tree forest that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was worthy of a Dr. Seuss book. Even the cows, horses, and birds were laying around together! I kept searching for unicorns. After leaving the beach, we grabbed some lunch before heading up a HUGE mountain, la montaña redonda, where we screamed at the top of our lungs and stared with awe at the lagunas, forest, and ocean that surrounded us. It was perfect, every single second.

A lot opens up when we greet people and our world with a smile, respect, and a wave of the hand.