The Real Dominican Republic Part 2

A couple things come to mind as I reflect on my brief trip to Puerto Plata. Before the daily hardships of the Dominican’s I met, whatever my worries or troubles are, they seem to melt to complete insignificance beside what I witnessed. Since this blog is titled “Living! With MS,” let me begin there. I am lucky to have some very decent health insurance through my employer, even though I only work at that job half time. I have a team of great doctors and the medication (Copaxone) that I take to slow the progression of my disease, at my fingertips. A visit to my neurologist costs $20.00. Monthly, I also only spend $20.00 for my medication. If I am hit with a large bill, I can make payments. I am not even sure who has health insurance in Puerta Plata. I also know for a fact that in order to receive treatment in the Dominican Republic, you must have complete payment in hand at the time of treatment. So yeah, while many folks might say I am unlucky to have MS, I say I am very fortunate to have affordable access to the care I need, whenever I need that care. When I was in Puerta Plata, I also met my boyfriend’s best friend. When we were introduced, my boyfriend mentioned that his friend had helped him to survive several years ago during a dark time. Not only did his friend help him secure employment, he also found him a ride across the country to get to the new job. The thing that actually stuck out to me the most is when my boyfriend mentioned that his friend and his friend’s parents took him in and fed him when he had nothing to eat. Nothing to eat! Imagine that. I honestly can’t. I realized that in my entire life, even when I was very poor, I have never had to miss a meal or go hungry. I have never been without water or electricity and these things that I have taken as a matter of course, are not a matter of course at all for so many people in the Dominican Republic. I suppose that here is where we could start the pity party but honestly, I suspect that the people I met in Puerta Plata would not even understand why I thought there was cause for a pity party at all. When I visited, I was fed and given a place to sleep although it was apparent there was really nothing to spare. They also threw me a giant birthday party and all I had to do was buy groceries. An enormous amount of food was cooked from scratch, and my boyfriend, an amazing man with nothing to spare, bought me a cake. Most amazingly of all, at the end of the night, they offered to pray for me. Pray for me? I already have everything I need but this was not the sort of kindness one says no to, so I asked them to pray for my health, and then they did. I closed my eyes and allowed their love and kindness to wash over me and honestly, there were tears in my eyes. I am blessed.

The Real Dominican Republic part 1

The last time I was here it was to visit a much different Dominican Republic than the one I just visited over the last several days. The Dominican Republic I visited in June was the one you buy out of a travel brochure, pina coladas, excellent service, pristine beaches, pools and facilities with all the comforts of home (electricity, internet, running water, laundry etc…). I spent a week in June, a queen in paradise… I knew I was not really seeing or experiencing the life of regular Dominican citizens, but I also was uncertain what life for many people here is actually like. A couple days ago, I got back to tourist-land after visiting my boyfriend’s family in Puerto Plata and I wanted to write a little about my experiences while they are still fresh in my mind. I think the culture shock began to set in at about the point where his grandma explained the toilet and sink to me in Spanish. Usually I understand a good deal of the Spanish spoken to me, but in this case, my brain refused to really understand until I wanted to flush the toilet. Puzzled, I tried about three times. Next I went to the sink to wash my hands. I turned the knob but nothing happened. Stubbornly, I tried again. Finally, my thick brain began to comprehend what she had told me. The bathroom water was not running. “No problem, I’ll use the kitchen sink to wash my hands.” Oops, no water there either. So I asked my boyfriend if the water was just off temporarily, maybe they couldn’t pay the bill this month. Delusional American princess, running water is expensive. Ok, ok, but the apartment is so clean and carefully kept. How do they do that? Ok, it’s kind of like camping all the time. Once I had that settled in my mind, I moved on. For a while I sang and played with his five year old sister but she was very precocious and I felt that perhaps I could further entertain her by reading a story. I asked her if she wanted me to read to her and she enthusiastically agreed. I asked her to show me the books so she led me to her room. I tried to turn on the light but it seems that light bulbs are also a luxury so I fumbled around in the dark, grabbing one book after another, only to discover that all she actually had in her room were ledgers and notebooks. There were no children’s books to be had at all, and it turns out that mom lives in another country and grandma cannot read anyway. Dad runs a store below the apartment and later it donned on me that he does so by candle light. Electricity is exorbitant. What they have is coming from a friend, not paid for at all. Who can buy electricity when several months of family income can’t even pay a month of bill? I admit, as one piece after another fell into place, I was shaken. It seems that no one in the neighborhood has running water. Everyone seems to use buckets to flush the toilet and a giant bucket to essentially sponge-bathe. I never did work my way up to either a sponge bath or a #2. I just treated the whole thing like camping. While everything I have recounted is important, it hardly comes to the crux of what seems important here. To be continued...