Rainy Sunday Afternoon

I feel delicious today.
Deliciously happy, that is. I was afraid that fall wouldn't feel like fall here simply because I live in the tropics. But thank God for rainy season . All these dark, cloudy, stormy days have been stirring up nostalgia in my heart and I have been filled with joy at the season. Yesterday, for example, was so cozy my heart is still overflowing! After going with my roommate to take one of our semester students to the clinic to get his blood tested (yes, he too contracted The Dengue, dunh, dunh, dunh) we took him back to where he is recuperating (which, for the time being, happens to be at the Entrekins'-- one of our SI families). Sissy and her girls Mary Emily and Isabelle were busy at work making Christmas ornaments out of these plastic things that you later melt with an iron. We were graciously invited to participate and were even offered hot chocolate. It was almost more than I could handle. I realize it's only October still, but I could not help the fact that "Just hear those sleigh bells ring-a-ling, ting-ting-ting-a-ling too!" escaped from my lips. Much to my delight, Sissy, the girls, Amy my roommate, Jim the Dengue dude, and Fernando, one of our Dominican doctors on staff all joined in without missing a beat and for once in my life I finally understood the true meaning of the word 'glee'.
And, I must confess, that after making dinner last night (pork chops, ratatoullie and garlic mashed potatoes), Amy and I put on Narnia and I made Snickerdoodles Dominican-style (with lime peel).
I am learning the beauty of retaining my culture while adopting a new one. I am learning that it's okay to speak some Spanglish. I am learning that the real reason I never thought rice was that great was because I didn't know how to make con-con (crispy rice that cooks too long at the bottom of the pot) and I could have only and ever learned that here. I don't have to start dressing Dominican-style in skin-tight clothes to be beautiful. Nor do I have to live with the constant pressure of having to be skinny, because that does not define beauty here. I can simply be myself, in the season I'm in, wearing my converse tennis shoes, gray hair growing out, baggy pants and still turn a head.
There is joy to be had in the imperfections, in the miscommunications, in the ambiguities, in the homesickness and the transitions. The joy comes not from circumstance, for this world is just shifting shadows. The joy comes in knowing, over and over again, that I am simply a pilgrim on earth, on my way to be married to the most amazing Man for all of eternity, having total security in my end, peace in His love and a daily walk with the Holy Spirit of God.
Passion. Inspiration. Life exploding onto canvas.
Love.

Adventures in Driving

Because I don't have a photo of all three of them together, here are separate pictures of Fransisco's kids. The top is Ysmayar, soon to be 8 years old; the second is of Priscila, 5 years old, the third is Rembrandt Natanael (Natan), 3 years old and the bottom is one of Prisci and Natan with a cousin.

I love these kids. Ysmayar is a typical first child-- a little mother who knows everything. She is very sweet and inquisitve and helpful. Priscila is the typical ballerina princess who is snuggly and giggly. Natan is a completely impulsive little boy who cries when he doesn't get his way and who LOVES to play. All three of them are completely themselves which I appreciate and they are all very patient with me as I try to understand them when they speak to me. Priscila, especially, draws out her words when she speaks to me so that I'll understand. She and Ysmayar also attend a bilingual school and so Prisci will speak to me in English when she can. They are a joy and I love it when they come to the art school or when I get to have lunch with them.

Yesterday, I got to spend a lot of time with all three of them. Let me share about this cultural adventure:

So, Jarabacoa is a lot like my sweet home town of Cambria in the sense that we only have two little markets and no movie theater, etc. The nearest city is Santiago and is about an hour drive north of here. Santiago has just about everything and part of my job is going there once a month or so to buy supplies for the art school. It is also an opportunity to buy bulk foods, cat litter, etc (yes, although we have two pet stores in town and two markets, why would they carry cat litter?? We've been using dirt for over a week, and, well, it's disgusting). So, anywho, I've been avoiding the Santiago trip simply because Dominican driving is insane and nothing is easy to get to in that city. But, alas, the time to go buy art supplies was upon me. As well, the art site has a kitchen that someone else was renting, but hasn't used for a few months, so we decided to start renting it to make lunch everyday and we needed to go buy food to stock it. Yesterday was the day.

The plan was that Fran's wife, Yeimi, and I would 'do' Santiago sometime this next week. However, after lunch yesterday, she decided it would be a good time to go. I was fine with that since we didn't have any students coming that afternoon. Well, then it was decided that we would take all three kids. Then Fransisco decided, hey, I want to go too! But, before we left town, we had to stop by Yeimi's folk's house to pick up some stuff and while there, Yeimi's mom, Martina, decided she needed to go too. Trust me, had anyone else known and wanted to go, they would have crammed into my car-- it's the Dominican way. Now, there are no seatbelt laws here, so you can imagine my anxiety about driving all day in a country where everyone ignores road rules with three little kids in the back. We began our drive. Did I mention it was raining, too? Yes, it had been raining for over a week and no knowing when it would stop. Anyway, the drive to Santiago wasn't too bad, but once in the city, you have to be incredibly offensive and defensive. Two lane roads turn into 4 and 5 lanes. Most cars don't have working blinkers and many of them are missing headlights and/or tail lights. My windows were fogging up and the three adults all had different ideas about where we were going and all three of them were trying to tell me all at the same time in Spanish and then arguing with eachother about it. I made a lot of wrong turns or I missed turns and had to back track, which is not easy. Honking is a language in and of itself and I had to learn it very quickly. Well, we got to the first place in one piece, spent almost two hours and then we got to the second place in one piece and spent about the same amount of time. Instead of three, it was like being with 6 kids in a candy store. Lots of fun, really, and I did get to buy cat litter, the things I needed for the art site and a cute hat for two bucks. We somehow managed to get it all packed into the way back of my car ( blocking all rear visibility) and I was like, oh, good, we can go home now. I didn't know that a trip to Santiago included a stop along the highway (on the opposite side of the highway) to have stewed goat for dinner. It was pouring down rain and nighttime at this point. Since I couldn't see anything, I kept having to ask Fran, who was in the passenger seat, to look out the window for me to see if I could get over into the other lane (because often you have to pass cars that are pretty much on the verge of death, but still driving). Every time, I'd ask him, 'Can I go?' and he'd say, 'yes, if you want' and I'd be like, 'yes! I want to, but are there cars coming!!?' It was frustrating, but God got us home alive and I didn't even get a migraine. I knew at the beginning I'd just need to 'go with the flow' and for the most part I did, but toward the end I was really ready to never take 6 people to Santiago with me again.

Ironically, I'm going back to Santiago today to tour the Mirabal sisters museum (3 sisters who stood up to the Trujillo regime and were murdered).

Someone else is driving.