Author Archives: Aaron

Traveling is the Excavation of Character

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Near the office of Esperanza (HOPE’s office here in the DR), a construction crew is finishing the exit ramp of highway overpass. I walk past the crew every day and see the progress they are making. In one area, they are digging heavily into the ground exposing every good and bad thing found below the surface.

I think that’s what traveling is like.

A group of dedicated laborers goes to work unearthing everything you thought you knew about yourself and things you’d prefer to keep hidden. The heavy machinery crew labors throughout the day and late into the night. At times, the sheer force of the demolition leaves you shocked and speechless. You have to call in your advisors (via Skype) and ask them what the heck is going on. Sometimes you feel like the job site changes, even though you know this is the same place being worked on every day. Other times, usually at night, some specialists wake you up with probing questions about which pipes need servicing. Usually, you have to answer them immediately, they can’t wait until tomorrow. (I’ve tried arguing to postpone the meeting, it just doesn’t work.)

All this demolition and excavation is for a good purpose. Everyday you can see things a little more clearly in the sunshine. It’s amazing to hold mysterious, yet familiar objects in your hands and flip them around and see all their facets. Some things you know you need to clean up if you’re going to continue carrying it around on the journey, and other things you know are meant for the junk pile. You realize your pockets are only so big and your back is only so strong, so you must be judicious in what you continue to carry. Airlines at most, only allow two bags, which is never enough space. You’ve really have to decide what baggage you’re going to transport back home.

If you talk with the foreman on the jobsite you’ll get a better understanding of what the new structure is going to look like. I’ve found that I need to check in daily to have a better idea of what’s yet to come. Sometimes it seems like there’s a new set of blueprints every week, but you trust that whatever is going to be built is a whole lot better than what existed before. As far as time and money is concerned, it’s going to take a lot longer than you thought, and cost way more than you anticipated, but it’s all going to be worth it.

Know that someday in the future, you’ll invite your family and friends over, and you’ll sit and have lunch in the plaza in front of the building. You’ll tell them about the hilarious and insightful construction crew made up of international workers who excavated nearly everything underneath, but nevertheless helped you build and improve this marvelous structure that you enjoy today.

And for that, I am grateful for traveling.

(Currently though, I’m in the middle of a construction zone and I’m trying to reduce my velocity. No sense in getting fined for excessive speed, but really, I just want to be able to see what’s being dug up.)

What Are You Running From?

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When I was little, I loved to run, just for the sake of running. I think there’s something beautiful about running with reckless abandonment, without worry, and simply for the joy of how the wind rushes past your face as your own energy carries you forward. I used to run with a simple passion: to be in motion. I ran fast because there was nothing to lose, and everything to gain. The faster I ran, the more I felt alive, the more I wanted to keep going, and the energy inside me kept growing, and I was always amazed when I looked back, because I was able to see the great distance I had traveled.

“What Are You Running From?”

Quite a few people have asked me this question over the past year: “What are you running from?”

I think it’s a fair question. Sometimes, when people choose to quit a job, leave the country to travel and start a new chapter of their life, they are trying to escape something.

I never saw this life decision to leave Richmond to travel, learn Spanish, and volunteer in an international organization as an escape. My life in Richmond was good, and God blessed me with an amazing life. I had an apartment with awesome roommates, I played on a successful soccer team, I attended a solid church and had a good community there, and I liked my job and the people I worked with.

The Real Question: “What Are You Running Toward?”

So when people asked me the question, “What are you running from?” I usually responded with “You mean, what am I running toward?”

I think this is an important distinction, and maybe a suggestion on how to handle a major life event, so I’ll say it now: “When you have a good idea of where you’re going, run toward it.”

See, I think that most times when we choose to make a big decision, we kind of creep toward it, unsure of how it’s going to pan out. We’re afraid of how it will change our lives, our friendships, and our comfortable living situation. I think this anxiety comes from a good basis, and it is important to seek advice and wisdom from the good Lord, your friends, your peers, and your family – the kind of people who know you, and can tell you if they think this fits in with what “you” are all about. But once you know where it is you’re going, do you wait for someone to take you, slowly walk toward it, or do you run?

It was a little more than a year ago that I chose to leave Richmond to pursue volunteering opportunities overseas, and almost immediately I felt that I was on the right track. It was as if I was swimming against the current for awhile, and as soon as I started heading in a different direction, everything became easier. I could feel the wind at my back.

I set up the plans to finish my job in July, and to head to Nicaragua to work with my church at an orphanage in Managua, and then onto Spanish school in Guatemala. It all just seemed to fit in place. And here I am in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, ready to volunteer with HOPE International.

Run Like There is a Tomorrow

Now that I know where I’m going, I want to run like I used to run, without worry, without pain, just fully and passionately alive and full of joy because I am in motion.

Maybe that’s the final point I want to make,

“When you have a good idea of where you’re going, run toward it and sprint with all that you’ve got inside you. Run without worry, or fear, and run like you’ve got everything to gain.”

It is only with energy, passion, and momentum that helps us get through the transitions in our life, but more importantly, they make the fuel that helps us get to where we’re going. And if we never let ourselves run, how far will we let ourselves go?

More importantly, if we let ourselves run, how far can we go?

Tomorrow is my first day in the office – me voy a correr . . .

—–

This post is dedicated to everyone who’s spurred me to run as far and as fast as I can. (And to you mom & dad, but I don’t have pictures of y’all on Facebook.)

Thank you, I love you all!

-Aaron

Economic Development & The PovertyCure

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An associate of mine at HOPE International forwarded me this video from PovertyCure. It is incredibly informative and well-made and I think it will help you better understand the multifaceted problem of poverty and the best ways to respond to a world in need.

“Poverty Cure is an international network of organizations and individuals seeking to ground our common battle against global poverty in a proper understanding of the human person and society, and to encourage solutions that foster opportunity and unleash the entrepreneurial spirit that already fills the developing world.

We know there is no single solution to poverty, and good people will disagree about methods, but we have joined together to rethink poverty, to move beyond top-down plans, and to promote entrepreneurial solutions to poverty informed by sound economics, local knowledge, the lessons of history and, most important, the Judeo-Christian tradition.

Christ calls us to solidarity with the poor, but this means more than assistance. It means seeing the poor not as objects or experiments, but as partners and brothers and sisters, as fellow creatures made in the image of God with the capacity to solve problems and create new wealth for themselves and their families. At a practical level, it means integrating them into our networks of exchange and productivity.

We encourage you to take a look at our website, sign our statement of principles, get involved, and spread the word.”

PovertyCure web site

The Monster of Lake Atitlan

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[This was a post I wrote in Guatemala on November 2nd. I’m finally publishing it because I have the picture.]

I’ve always liked the kind of small talk that leads to a better conversation. As my Spanish skills have been improving, I’ve been trying to joke a little more with my friends and with some of the locals, and I usually start out with that I live in the States, near Washington D.C. People never know where that is, so I say, “You know President Obama?” and they answer that they do, then I add: “We are neighbors.”

They usually laugh, and then I have to clear it up that we are not exactly neighbors, and nobody can be neighbors with the president because the White House really doesn’t exist in a normal neighborhood. Of course, this expanded explanation is much more difficult to convey in Spanish, so I simply leave it that “We aren’t really neighbors, but close enough.”

After my lead in with the “I’m neighbors with the President” I usually struggle with where I should go next, so when someone told me recently that there was a monster that lived at the bottom of Lake Atitlan, I thought this would be a perfect topic to adopt into my small talk repertoire. There are many legends in the small Mayan community near where I’ve been studying Spanish, and my favorite is now the Monster of the Lake. Some people believe that there’s an enormous dinosaur-like reptile that inhabits the lake, much like the Loch Ness Monster that supposedly lives in Loch Ness Scotland.

But people don’t like to talk about it. Not because I’m a gringo, it’s because some people believe that the more you talk about it, the more energy you give to the monster, and the more likely it will be to strike again. Strike again? Has it struck before?

Apparently, it has. It’s gotten the blame for many injuries and casualties that have occurred in the Lake. But then again, it depends on who you talk to. After I asked the 2nd and 3rd person about the Monster of Lake Atitlan, I realized that I possessed three different stories or interpretations from this legend, and my new “go to small talk topic” was borne.

So for the past three weeks, when conversation is lagging or I have no idea what to say, I ask about the Monster. Now, when I ask, I ask like I’ve never asked the question before. It’s not “Tell me what your personal experience has been surrounding the supposed legend of this so-called “Lake Monster.” Instead it’s “Is there a monster in the Lake???”

The current tally is 14 yays, and nine nays. But look at these various interpretations:

  • The monster lives in an underground cave.
  • The monster has been seen by over 300 people.
  • There is an underground network of tunnels that it travels in.
  • It’s just a legend, gringo.
  • It’s not true, but no one knows for sure . . .
  • There used to be a town at the bottom of the lake.
  • Satellites cannot map the terrain of the lake, so it’s impossible to know.
  • When the water came, it destroyed the town, and the people.
  • The monster ate the people.

So this year for Halloween, when I was considering what costume I was going to do, the answer was obvious.

A friend told me that there was a guy doing face painting near the Panachel Dock. I thought that might be a good asset for my costume. I made my way in and talked to the guy about getting my face painted. Standing there and as the heavy stage makeup was being applied, I knew that if I was really going to do this, I’d have to dive in completely. I immediately thought about all the materials I could don myself with to complete the costume. As he was starting to draw on my face he said, “You know it’s just a legend, right?” I said, “Probably, but people say different things . . . What do you think it looks like?”

He responded, “I dunno, maybe a serpent or a dragon?”

I said, “Well, do what you want, you’re the 23rd person I’ve asked, so it’s up to you to draw what you think’s best.”

And here we have the result:

Yes, everyone knew who I was at the party, and they wondered where I got the greenery for the costume. I responded that I got most of it on the walk to the party, from various trees, bushes, and branches and my real aim was to look like I just emerged from the lake. A lot of people wanted to take pictures of me, and I was able to collect a few more stories about the Lake Monster for the road home.

Tercer Cielo – Mi Ultimo Dia (English Translation)

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Tercer Cielo is a talented music group from the Dominican Republic and lately I’ve been learning to play and sing one of their songs on my guitar. “My Last Day” has a beautiful melody and message, and has some amazing harmonies throughout. I’ve translated the song into an English interpretation below the video. As you know, direct translation never captures the same meaning, so I’ve taken liberties to make it sound like we would say it in English. The Spanish lyrics appear below that section. Que hermosa.

As if it were my last day,
I’m going to live with a sincere love
And show those close to me how much I love them.

As if it were my last day,
I’m going to fight for my dreams,
Living without fear and treasuring every minute.
I’m not going to wait until tomorrow because all I have is the present.

If there wasn’t much time, I would stay and take a moment
To show you that I love you and that I am fully content that I have you.
And if your joy depended on me, I would give everything I can to you to make this day the best day in our life.

If this was my last chance to look at you again,
I would make this moment the most important in your memory,
Because in the times of difficulty and stress of this life, we miss the details we later wish we could remember.
And then regret that we’ve forgotten these experiences, and mourn that we cannot recreate them.

If there wasn’t much time, I would stay and take a moment
To show you that I love you and that I am fully content that I have you.
And if your joy depended on me, I would give everything I can to you,
And make this day the best day in our life.

I would enjoy all that God has given me
friends, family and love,
and I’ll make this day the best of my life.

¿Cuantas palabras en Ingles conoces?

Una comunidad para aprender Ingles y diez otras lenguas.

[Spanish Lyrics]

Como si fuera mi último día,
Voy a vivir en la vida, amando sincero
Mostrando a los míos cuanto los quiero

Como si fuera mi último día
Voy a luchar por mis sueños
Viviendo sin miedo
Y cada minuto, vivirlo intenso.
No voy a esperar hasta mañana, si el presente lo tengo

Como si no hubiese tiempo, Me quedara un momento
Voy a mostrar que te amo, Que estoy contento, que te tengo,
Como si tu alegría depende de mí, voy a darlo todo por ti,
Y voy a hacerte este día el mejor que pueda vivir.

Como si fuera mi último chance para mirarte de nuevo,
Hare del momento, el más importante de tu recuerdo,
En el estrés de la vida, Se nos escapan detalles,
Que luego más adelante lamentamos olvidarse,
A veces se hace difícil o imposible recuperarse,

Como si no hubiese tiempo
Me quedara un momento
Voy a mostrar que te amo
Que estoy contento, que te tengo
Como si tu alegría depende de mí, voy a darlo todo por ti
Y voy a hacerte este día el mejor que pueda vivir.

Disfrutar todo aquello que Dios me brindo
Mis amigos, familia y amor
Y voy a hacer este día el mejor que pueda vivir
Y voy a hacer este día el mejor que pueda vivir.

The Value of a Thing Purchased

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“People in my country buy something so that others can see it. People in your country buy something so that others can share it.”

A visiting student here in Santo Domingo made that comment to my Dominican teacher. He was from France, and what he experienced in the Dominican Republic was that very often his host family would buy things that could be enjoyed by others. Everything in the house was well-worn. The plastic chairs on the front patio, the sofa in the living room, the dining table, the dishes – nearly everything in the house had been used by the family, the extended family, the neighbors, the church members. Neighbors would come by to get water when there wasn’t any available in the community because the family put in a cistern so that they could provide more water to the family and to the neighbors.

To see it.

-or-

To share it.

I see sharing all the time here. People are so comfortable with other people using their stuff, I often wonder who’s the real owner of any property here in the barrio.

It makes me think about how many shiny things I bought that are still shiny and sitting in my room back home. I never really used it and nobody else did either. Why did I buy it? Good question. Why do we buy things anyway? For others to see it, or for others to share it?

My most valued experiences in Richmond came from when a group of friends and I shared an experience. At times, I felt like I should have purchased an Ford Econoline 350 so I could take more people on trips.

Someday I wanna have a huge house.

I want my house to be easy to get to and have plenty of parking. I want to have a big kitchen with a big island to set tons of food on so when I have parties people can mill around in the middle and talk about sports while dipping tostitos into big bowls of queso. I want to have a big common room with a huge TV and plenty of seating, and one of those old-timey movie popcorn machines that’s always well stocked. I want to have a big porch with a bbq grill and a big outdoor table where I can invite friends and family over and the kids can run around in the backyard, and tackle each other safely in the tall green grass. I want people to feel like they can stop by anytime, and if my friends from the Dominican Republic or anywhere else in the world come to visit they’ll be a big guestroom where they can set down their stuff and stay awhile.

Do I Have Enough Money for Two?

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I’m sure you’ve gotten the chain email story about the young boy who sits down at a diner and asks the waitress how much two scoops of ice cream cost. When she replies with the cost, he only buys one scoop, so that he can leave her a tip.

I had an experience this week where I was walking the boys back from school. They wanted to stop into a local “colmado” (tiny store) to buy a “cosita” (a small item). Each boy was given five pesos (15 cents), and they had to be very careful on what they spent their money on, because they usually never get money.

We stepped inside and Josias yelled at the lady behind the counter to get him a piece of candy. She took his five pesos and gave him three back and went to get his candy. He stared at the money in his hand and looked back at her and said “Give me one more!” She dropped the gum into his hand and he handed it to me, and he waited patiently for her to get another piece of gum for him. He was now left with one peso and one piece of gum, he said to me “OK, let’s go Aaron.”

I was a bit shocked, Josias just smiled.

Maybe the best part of this story is that later on that evening when Josias’ gum got stale and he asked me for one more peso so that he could buy another piece of gum for himself. Haha.

The Four Year Old Gene Kelly

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My favorite part about not having water in the barrio is that I get to walk through the streets with this guy (pictured right):

A four-year-old Gene Kelly.

I didn’t grow up in a barrio, or anything like a neighborhood like Villa Nuevo Pueblo Duarte in East Santo Domingo. It’s poor, and there isn’t a lot of work for the people who live here. Most people try to avoid areas like these and stick to the beaches.

One night a taxi driver said, “You live here? I hope you don’t think that all of Dominincan Republic is like this.” I said to him, “I like it. There’s a sense of real community that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before.”

“You know it’s dangerous though right?” he added.

“Oh I know, but I don’t go walking out at night. I know it’s not safe.”

Well, normally it wouldn’t be safe, but somehow it’s safer with someone like Gene Kelly.

Sometimes when we lose water, we go visit some of the relatives who live nearby. Joseas is always first to grab my hand, and he leads the way.

He dances like everyone’s watching, and sings like they are recording his performance. He pulls me forward like he’s trying to pull a rock, and at other times I have to drag him, half-swinging him from my one arm. He’s either mumbling, or he’s singing, I can’t tell. He doesn’t make any sense, not even in Spanish. But that’s not really important in this situation. We’re out for a stroll aren’t we?

Now he’s definitely singing, singing something. I don’t recognize the song, so I’m pretty sure he’s improvising. He’s got a thousand ideas stored up for nights like these. He’s actually matching the rhythm to the cadence of our walk. He’s encouraging me to join him, but as soon as I do, he switches to a new phrase. I try to get him to jump when we come to a speed bump, but now he’s engrossed in his serenade to the night, to the water that hasn’t come for days. It doesn’t bother him that there’s no water, nor electricity in the barrio. He’s just out for a stroll, singing in the barrio.

DELE Exam vs. A Dominican Barbershop Conversation about Baseball

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The following is a series of events and thoughts that began with the intention of reading a newspaper as a means to study for an internationally recognized Spanish certification (the DELE) and serves to illustrate the random connectedness that a life of traveling provides. All within a half day.

I headed out to find a public car to go into the Colonial Zone of Santo Domingo. Public cars are like taxis; actually more like buses in that they travel specific routes, and usually you’ll get to ride in a 20 year old car with at least 4 other Dominicans (not including the driver). I came to the junction in front of my barrio and a public car had just dropped off someone on the other street, he yelled to me and I said “Parque Independencia” which is a general endpoint – you can get out of the car anywhere from here to there for $0.50. He did a U-turn in the middle of a busy road.

At a good cross street to walk South to the Colonial Zone the driver asked me more specifically where I wanted to go. I said “toward Parque Independenica” and he responded “that’s far” to which I thought, “True I should just get out here.” I set out on foot South toward Colonial Zone and passed by some Colonial homes where I could feel the air conditioning flow out of an open window into the street. Air conditioning and gas street lights, and old men sitting, drinking coffee outside small “colmados” (cafe/diner/store).

I sat down at a cafe in front of the oldest Cathedral in America (Cathedral of Santa María la Menor) and started reading yesterday’s news. I chuckled to myself that “yesterday’s news” gets such a bad rap, yet to me, it holds immense value. First of all, it’s usually free, and for the purposes of learning Spanish, it’s an excellent tool. I read an article about how insurance companies in the United States are starting to use the online records of people’s lifestyles, habits, activities, diets, magazine subscriptions, gym memberships to calculate premiums. Just think if Google sold our information to an insurance company . . . despite the disutopian consequences, some of us would enjoy better premiums I suspect.

A guy sitting at the next table was speaking English, so I asked him where he was from. He told me that he’s from England, but he’s working in Haiti with the World Bank, but he’s not there now, because it’s not safe. I pointed to the front page of my (yesterday’s) newspaper and said “because of the Cholera and the Elections?” “Absolutely,” he responded. He was reading a technical article about the efficacy of Microfinance’s long term positive effects, and he encouraged me to read up on the information provided by the Center for Global Development before my trip with HOPE International this week.

I took a break from reading the newspaper. Actually, I took a walk and threw it away. I considered buying today’s news, but I’ll wait until tomorrow – when it’s free. I settled on sitting in Columbus Park (Cathedral of Santa María la Menor) and read about Screenwriting. I realized that most movies try to grab your attention in the first 10 minutes, and statistically, this is the point when the audience will stay attuned to the story, or let their mind drift.

A pigeon crapped in my book.

I suppose that further illustrates the page I was reading about “inciting” incidents. It’s the tool in movies where the story suddenly surges forward. I realized that if I was to keep the rest of these pages “pigeon free” I really should head back to get my haircut.

I picked up another public car. Only 3 of us in there this time. We were driving up over the bridge and I saw another public car waving some bills out the window. It was immediately clear to me that this other public car driver wanted some change from his friend, my driver, and what they were going to attempt to do was to make change while driving on this bridge. The bridge has two lanes, and the SUV behind us did not appreciate the slowed speed so he passed us on the left. Yes, with only two lanes. The cars got close and the driver reached into my window; I grabbed the big bill, and my driver gave him the change. Transaction complete. My driver said “thanks.”

(I realize that my mother reads this blog, and while she would prefer that I not take part in such activities, it certainly makes for a good story doesn’t it?)

I saw a small sticker on the interior of the dashboard: “D’Reyes Peliquleria” – the name of a barbershop. I get out of the public car and start walking home, and lo and behold there is “D’Reyes Peliquleria” to my right. “Sure, why not, I’ll go in. I think the mid-traffic transaction was fairly positive, and this guy is associated with the driver.”

Listening to the conversation in the barbershop, I realized, then and there that while the DELE is the internationally recognized foreign language exam for Spanish, participating in a conversation about the barber’s brother’s baseball team in a Dominican Barbership could signify the highest accreditation.  See, the only part of the conversation I understood was when he pointed at the poster on the wall and said that they have a game tomorrow night at 7:30.

I walked back to the house, only 3:00 in the afternoon, and I decided to take the DELE within the year, and possibly take up the invitation to watch the barber’s brother’s baseball team sometime this week.

What a half-day.

A Response to Kindness

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I’ve been thinking about my previous post, “The Transparency of Kindness” since I’ve been in the Dominican Republic, and I’ve seen yet more evidence of the goodness in this world.

It’s always a difficult process to switch from a place where you’ve felt comfortable to a place where you’ve never been, and you don’t speak the language. By the end of my three months in Guatemala, I felt like I could pretty much understand every conversation, and I could communicate myself fairly well. But, my first night in the DR with my new family, I felt like I knew zero Spanish. Between the accent and speed, my comprehension suffered greatly. I felt like an outsider again.

Like most difficult things, it got easier, and just a few days later, I started to have an ear for the accent and the speed. The Moreta Family helped me out tremendously. They fed me dinner even though I arrived when they were going to have a meeting at their church. They slowed down their conversation so I could understand what was going on. They gave me a room. They said I could set my stuff down, and they said that it was my place to rest.

I think about how strange it has to be for them to open up their house to a foreigner. They gave a room to someone they’ve never met. They let their kids crawl over this stranger and they serve him first at the table. So strange and so amazing. It’s this transparency of kindness that I have grown to love since I’ve been traveling. I feel like I am able to see it so clearly now, and I want to savor it as much as I can. I know that while I’ll be here for quite some time, I will eventually return to the states.

Does that mean I will lose the ability to see it?

I mentioned before that I believe that you don’t need to leave the country to see the goodness of this world, but I wonder if I will immediately fall back into my old mindset? I would like to believe that there are some things in this world that permanently shift the way you think about your life and the world you live in. There are some things you’ll never be able to turn your back on.

Hmm . . . will I turn my back on how people have helped me in each country I’ve visited? How easy it would be to say thanks and move on. How easy it has been to sit at the family dinner table and walk away when I’m finished eating. I guess I’m alluding to a fundamental question: does kindness demand a response? Is it enough to just be able to see the goodness of this world? Is it enough to say thanks? Is it enough to take a few photos and write a few posts about my gratitude?

I believe kindness begets kindness. And maybe, I can’t turn my back on my experience.

—

Oddly enough, as I was writing this post, the family came and told me that they had picked up my pile of laundry and they planned to do it with the rest of the family’s clothes. They just didn’t want me to be alarmed when I went back in my room and didn’t see my pile of dirty clothes. In the barrio in Santo Domingo where I’m living, the water and the electricity goes in and out, frequently, usually everyday. Rebeca mentioned this to me when she apologized for grabbing my clothes, “When there’s water, we’ve got to take advantage of it.”

At first I thought, “Well, that was nice of them.”

. . . Haha, is that all I’m going to think?

Sometimes kindness is clarity. Antonio was an orphan that probably would have died if the family didn’t provide for him. Today, if we didn’t do the laundry, we might not have the chance to do it for awhile.

Sometimes, it’s clear that kindness demands a response. If this family is going to feed me and give me a room, then maybe I can help them do laundry. After all, with two young boys, there are always dirty clothes to be cleaned. Rebeca knows this because she comes from a family of 11 siblings, and Federico from a family of 14 siblings. There was always laundry to be done, and you had to do it when you had the opportunity.

. . . I walked upstairs to hang up some clothes, end of story.