I mentioned yesterday that I'm having trouble with the broad question, "how was it?" and its cousin, "what was it like?" Yesterday and this morning two more friends asked. So this is my what-it-was-like post. Then we'll head back into Esfuerzo and talk (literal) trash.
There is no one answer to "what was it like?" The experience is like a sandwich too big for me to figure out how to eat it. I'm still working on the angle of my bite while people are asking me what it tastes like. Or a dish made of a type of meat we don't eat here in the US, and people want to know what that meat tastes like, and I'm expected to say "it tastes like chicken," but how do you get across that it's like chicken cooked in spices for which you don't know the names?
Av Mexico & Calle Altagracia, Santo Domingo
what was it like?
It was amazing. It was incredible. It was exhausting. It was invigorating. It was draining. It was refreshing. It was mind-blowing. It was commonplace. It was nothing I expected. It was everything I expected.
what was it like?
It was nothing like the US. It was remarkably like the US.
what was it like?
I saw homes patched together from pieces of corrugated metal in which residents were watching The Fairly Oddparents on a 13" color TV. Somebody from home implied to me that their outreach trip was somehow more authentic or more necessary because the residents of the place where they went had dirt floors, while the people I was visiting had cement floors.
I saw difficulty in communication between members of the government/elevated social classes with members of marginalized communities. I saw internet cafes in or near those marginalized communities. I saw colmados with shelves loaded with expensive rum and soda and I heard about how little protein residents of Esfuerzo consume. I was reminded of the problems we face in the US with affordable access to healthy, sustainable food and other lifestyle products.
what was it like?
There was trash everywhere out of doors, while indoors, every floor of every home was scrubbed and dust-free.
what was it like?
The perfect marriage of idealism and practicality. There was a sense of being "home" among people who understand being fully-idealistic at the same time as one is fully-practical. At any time, there might be a discussion of politics or privilege or sustainability. At the same time there was a constant undercurrent of energy and excitement, of a song-and-dance number that might break out at any moment.
what was it like?
I was sick and sleep-deprived when I arrived. Lack of sleep and exposure to environmental pollution (dust, exhaust, smoke from burning trash) contributed to a painful tonsil infection and bronchitis. The most common chief complaint in the clinic is "gripe," which is basically respiratory irritation/asthma. I had gripe from a virus and brief exposure to environmental pollutants. Now try living in that 24/7 without a buddy who's an MD traveling with a pharmacy.
Me, passed out cold for 1.5 hours on my sickest day. Photo courtesy of Rebecca Silverstein.
Before the trip I packed Lexapro for anxiety, ibuprofen for my throat. During the trip I availed myself of: neosporin and Band-Aids for a cut that got infected, acetaminophen when my ibuprofen ran out (for throat pain), Zithromax (for throat infection), loratadine (AKA Claritin, for respiratory symptoms), albuterol (for bronchitis). At home these things are also plentiful, relatively cheap, and easy for me to access.
what was it like?
It was a vacation from my family. All of my meals were prepared by somebody else, nobody interrupted my train of thought or my attempts to feed myself. Other people organized transportation, made my bed, brought fresh towels, called the shots. I needed less "me time" because there were fewer demands placed on me. I felt touch-starved because I wasn't getting enough hugs.
what was it like?
I was absolutely 100% able to do nothing but document, full-time. I was not running the show and I did not have to return from the show to run some other show, so I could just record things as they happened. Occasionally I felt badly for observing rather than doing the heavy lifting (although I also did scut work, hauled trash bags, sweated and stank), but then had to stop myself and remind myself that my work is important. As the documentarian, I provide witness and a link to the outside world. I'm a doula for social change, holding the space.
Everybody PUSH...except the photographer
what was it like?
A complete validation of some of the principles by which I live and parent. I witnessed collaborative, constructivist methods at work at the college level (between Dr. Aday and his students) and at the social level (between the SOMOS team and the residents of Esfuerzo and beyond). This renewed my dedication to inquiry-based learning and empowerment of individuals as tools to facilitate social change.
what was it like?
Frustrating. I couldn't process information quickly enough to relay it to people who wanted it in the States. I couldn't keep on top of my backlog of images. I needed more background information in order to understand the information I had, and every piece of background information only led to more questions.
what was it like?
I don't feel like I know the residents of Esfuerzo well enough to talk much about them. Like anybody anywhere, they're complex people with histories and relationships and wants and needs and good and bad character traits, only a tiny fraction of which I know about. Like anybody anywhere, some of them love to ask you in for coffee, and some are less inclined to host guests. Some have gripes about their neighbors, some are movers and shakers, some are on the social periphery. So you're not going to hear a lot of "people in Esfuerzo/Paraíso are like XYZ" from me. You can't really sum up people like that, not here, not anywhere.
what was it like?
It was inspiring to be in the presence of young adults who are exploring social issues that I wasn't even aware of until much later in my life. It was impressive to see the grasp of those concepts that they have, considering that I wasn't emotionally ready for some of those concepts until my 30s. I'm wondering what choices I can make while raising my children that will enable them to be able to engage at that level (if they so choose) when they are in college and beyond.
what was it like?
Maddening to see the breaches in security even while the US pours hundreds of millions of dollars into new technology and TSA staff. Pat-downs and full-body scans aren't making America safer. TSA agents who tell people "you aren't allowed to bring this...remember that for next time" or who are inconsistent about what they think looks fishy on the standard X-ray aren't making America safer, either.
diagram via Reddit user likepeterose
what was it like?
There was razor wire surrounding the yard of the school where we held our clinic. The same school has a sign over their Kindergarten classroom proclaiming it to be a Montessori program. So close to my experience, so far from it.
what was it like?
I'm thrilled by the photos I took. I'm depressed by the ones I missed. I'm proud of my skills. I'm humbled by the skills others have that I still lack.
what was it like?
The air smelled like chocolate in some places and like old garbage in others. There were gorgeous sunrises and sunsets and double rainbows. There were beggars in Santo Domingo who were far more persistent than any others I have encountered. There were dogs everywhere. There was no such thing as a free lunch. There was less punctuality and more (or just different) interpersonal politics. There were beautiful 500-year-old churches and ruins that redefined my idea of "colonial" and reminded me of the explorers and conquistadors who brought slavery and genocide, the effects of which are still apparent today.
what was it like?
My kids missed me but not terribly painfully so. They were unimpressed by the ability to video-chat from one country to another. My husband and in-laws deftly kept the home fires burning. I came home to a ship-shape house and lots of snuggles. My fantastic egalitarian spouse knew I'd need some time to catch up on sleep and had also meal planned and grocery shopped for the week to aid us with re-entry. This man is fab, and I sang his praises all week. Thanks again, y'all, for making it possible for me to do this.
Welcome home "Jees" :o)
what was it like?
I'm not sure I can ever really answer that question. I hope to go back to try.
