Tis the Season...for politics? (August blog)

Dominican election year is 2016, which means the winding up of the ridiculous frenzy has begun.    I’m sure it’s nonsense in the US right now as well…but political campaigns in the US don’t involve hiring huge trucks with speakers and blasting music and propaganda at 5 am in the morning (or whatever hour!) as 25,000 vehicles and screaming people begin to clog the road and drive around the city.   That’s how we do campaigns here.   In the States, you all get automated telephone calls but remember it’s optional to answer your phone!  Here, if you are a politician you get as many vehicles as you can full of people waving your flag and playing your song…and you drive around the city and annoy everyone.    Just when I’m in a hurry to get somewhere the road will be full of campaign vehicles or bajillions of people and I won’t be able to get through and I’m forced to sit there grimacing as bumper stickers are shoved in my face and flags are flown over my windshield and speakers are blasting at a volume that is clearly unsafe at a 100 mile radius.  Grumpity.

Here’s a tricky underside though.  Politics pretty much run everything here.   It’s all who you are and who is on your team.   Want to hire someone in the public sector?   Sure hope they are in the correct party!   Because whoever is in power pretty much holds the power to hire…and they are going to hire IN PARTY for the most part.    I’m so grateful that I’m here through Solid Rock.   Jesus is apolitical as far as I can tell (although I guess you wouldn’t know that from Facebook, eh?) and it’s reassuring to be able to serve people and announce in the barrios “We are not coming through ANY political party- this is completely free!”.   Beautiful.   I hope it’s eye-opening for those that we serve.

Politics was one of those things that I had zero idea about when I arrived here.   It’s taken me nearly 5 years to peel back some of the layers of life in the DR and I still feel like I’m barely scratching the surface.   Oh I know some things.   I know better than to wear my flipflops OUT on the town.   Geez, everybody knows that flipflops are for the HOUSE only (I fail at this, by the way).      You put on your fancier sandals to head out, unless clearly you are still in your pajamas at the grocery store, which then excuses whatever outfit you have on.   I know better than to wear shorts out unless I’m exercising at the track.   Dominicans wear super tight jeans for the most part.    Americans are seen as sloppy…and compared to the beautiful primped and perfumed locals here, we sure are.   Sweatpants and a sweatshirt?  You may as well give up and move home.      I know that rice and beans are for LUNCH, not supper.   I know that you are supposed to shower AT LEAST 2-3 times a day.    Otherwise you might be a dirty American who doesn’t know how often to bathe.     You should especially shower BEFORE you go to the gym or track because you need to cool your body down before you heat it up.   Huh?  I know that you drink beverages (out in public) in small plastic cups so that you can share your glass bottle with others.    I know that you spring to your feet when someone arrives at your house and at the very least offer them juice or coffee.     Or you send your husband scrambling to the store to bring home some crackers/sodas to offer guests.    I know that “come at 7” means we will eat at 9 or 10 and that dinner probably hasn’t been started at 7.    I know that you can squeeze an orange or a lime on your car battery and then the engine will probably start.    I know that if someone says “Dios te Bendiga” or God bless you, I had better respond with “Amen” immediately.    I know how to play dominos and how to follow my frente.   I know that I better pretend that I mop my house everyday to rid it on this incessant dust that covers everything immediately afterward.   True words between my husband and I:

Nik : “Hey, we really need to clean.  I don’t think I’ve mopped in two weeks…..”

Monch:  “Don’t ever let anyone hear that!”

Oops.

I know you shouldn’t drink milk and juice at the same meal unless they are MIXED together.  In that case, it’s a delicious combo of Dominican batida milkshake which really can’t be beat.    I know that you SHOULD hang curtains on all on your inner house doorways because thats just how we decorate here.   I know I’m supposed to put brown sugar in the hot oil before I fry my chicken so that the cooked chicken will have a darker color.   White chicken?   Thats just clearly not cooked correctly!   And speaking of cooking, all rice needs to be “cleaned” (pick out all the rocks, dirt etc) and then washed (submerged in water) before it is cooked.   That is the only way.    Raw meat should be washed with orange or lime juice before cooking.    Again, thats the only way.

I know that when I arrive somewhere it is my responsibility to greet and acknowledge everyone else there, including hand shakes or at the very least a “saludos” to all.    I know that if I’m going to a reso (wake, viewing,funeral) I have to pass through an inner room of the folks most close to the one who died.   I will at the very least shake their hands if not give hugs and kiss the women on the cheek.    I will hear the wailing and I will say “I accompany you in your feelings”.    I will also wear black pants and a white shirt or the closest combo of the two that I can find.    Then I will sit somewhere and be served a small cup of dark sweet coffee in the morning and later on get in a huge long line for a community lunch that has been cooked in humongous vats outside over 3 big rocks by the neighbor women who are caring for the family.

So many things.    And I still fumble regularly with cultural faux-pas.    The truth is- I’m not Dominican.   I married one.  I’ve got the inside scoop.    But there are things that I will never understand or comprehend without Monch prepping me beforehand or explaining in great detail as we lay in bed and I fixate on why people think I’m so weird.    Why can’t we just eat black bean soup?   Why does it have to go with rice?   Why do the washers not have a rinse cycle?   Why can’t we leave the laundry hanging outside and leave for 15 minutes?    Why is straight hair the most acceptable?   Why do people always have to find something to blame for tragedies?    Why don’t they eat more vegetables here?     Why is every Sunday night evangelism night at church?     Why do sandwiches need ketchup and mayo?  Why do guys run outside in the rain and drive around on their motos looking for all their friends to “bathe in the rain” with them?     Why does someone have to stay at our house if we go away?   Why is it unacceptable to be barefoot even in the house?   Why can Dominican babies be lifted and carried by one arm and they never get nurse-maid’s elbow?   Why do they use injections for everything instead of pills?   Why can’t pregnant ladies eat potatoes?

I could write down at least one billion more questions or examples of what it’s like living outside my birth culture.     Then I start to think….imagine how it will be for my husband when we visit the States!   Why do Americans flush toilet paper?   Why do they eat so much meat?   Why don’t they greet people on the street?     Why do they waste so much money on pet food?   Why do they dress that way?   Why do they have to have dessert with lunch AND dinner?    What’s dessert anyway?

All the questions.   All the differences.   All the learning.   All the failing.

I arrived here just about 5 years ago ready to serve Jesus and change the world.   I don’t think I’ve changed very much at all, except maybe my heart and attitude.    (Wait- there’s one thing.  Our defibrillator in the OR stays plugged in 100% of the time.   That might be the only thing I’ve instituted that has stuck……)  Have I served Jesus?  I hope so.   I’ve seen lives changed by HIM.   I’ve seen Americans come down here and return to the States changed people.   I’ve seen Dominicans come to Jesus…but I’ve also seen a whole lot of Dominicans demonstrating Jesus to US, to ME, to other DOMINICANS.

It’s a great reminder to me that YES I have been called here.    I love what I do and I love serving how I get to serve.      It’s a joy and honor, mostly.     But man, despite me God has been working and changing hearts and transforming lives for ever and ever in the DR.   And THAT is the beauty of His Kingdom.    He doesn’t need me- He ALLOWS me to serve here.   I get to watch it all….unfolding and birthing and shining and rescuing.    Even when I’m tired and burnt out- that privilege isn’t lost on me.    The Kingdom…..in spanish.    I still love it.