Una Vida Lejana

When I was 18, newly freed from academic constraints, my heart was full of romance, and my head full of...romance, in the purest sense of the word..and I longed for an adventure.  I thought I was Queen of the universe, and I could take on anything!  I was 18 after all, practically an expert on living.  So, I began planning, with my best friend, to move to a country of spanish romance, the Dominican Republic.  To this day, especially now that I have a daughter and am anticipating watching her grow up, I have absolutely no idea why my parents supported this.  But they did, and they even flew down there with us to help us set up house and meet with our third roommate, who, thankfully, had some experience there already.  I went looking for adventure and adventure I found.  And, I fell madly inlove with a culture, a people, who were so hospitable despite extreme poverty. Warm and caring, accepting me into their families. And yes, romantic.  Much to my parents chagrin.  But that's another story... 

At the end of my six months there I was heartbroken, and immediately wanted to go back.  I thought of it literally every day.  Well, I did go back...7 years later, with my husband.  Better late than never.  Now it was his turn to experience the Dominican way.  Our  plan was to stay for at least two years, and we sold everything. When we arrived, he saw what most people see when they arrive...the millions of cars crammed together with doors held on sometimes just by the Propriedor who's pulling passengers into the guagua.  He heard the loud merengue and bachata coming from massive subwoofers strapped to Kcars and Land Rovers alike.  He saw the garbage littered on the sides of the roads.  He saw the crystal blue waters as we drove the highway to our new home. The chickens everywhere.  Children playing everywhere.  People selling fruit and vegetables on small roadside stands.  It wasn't an easy adjustment, for either of us.  I had changed.  I hadn't realized how attached I'd become to all things familiar and comfortable. And this was completely new for B.  But among all his wonderful qualities, his ability to push on even though he's uncomfortable is one I admire the most.   Me...I get frustrated and then I get mad, and then I cry, and, well, it's a mess.  But him, he's very good at hiding how difficult he finds something till it's all over and he's nailed it and everyone thinks it's been so easy for him.  We got into a groove after awhile, though, and I think we would have made a really cozy life for ourselves there if we had had more time.  They always say that the first year is the hardest, and we found it to be true, at least, for the five months we were there.  Because then we found out we were pregnant, and came home within two weeks. :)  But oh, do we have some fun stories. 

Most people, when they think of Dominican, they think resorts, sandy beaches, and cheap rum. But that's only a small part of a small part. The real essence is in the people and in the unadulterated countryside. And they will always be a huge part of what moulded me in my tenderest years, and I will always love them for it.

Here's my Dominican...

Note: Almost all photos taken by La Femme Rioux and B, with the exception of the photo of family sitting in a circle outside with us (taken by a friend), and the last photo of B. and I(taken by a friend).