The Social Life

Saludos everyone! After weeks of settling in - and it's an ongoing process - I had a fun, social afternoon and thought I'd share it with you. I think it's a good glimpse of DR culture and my experience living in a different country. So, in terrible detail, here's the story:

Today, the house phone rang and it was for me, which never happens. I picked up and someone started speaking Spanish - it took me a few minutes to realize it was my new friend, Paola. We met at the retreat weekend in Jarabacoa and have run into each other a couple times since then, each time saying we needed to get together at some point. I warned Paola then that it is close to impossible for me to understand native Spanish speakers on the phone - much more difficult than face-to-face. In fact, the first time Paola called a couple weeks ago, she had to repeat everything twice at an incredibly slow pace, and I was still startled when the phone went dead and I realized the conversation had ended and she'd hung up!

So this time, I listened very carefully and she spoke very clearly and we had an entire conversation making plans for the late afternoon. Thrilled that I actually knew when the conversation was over, I hung up and ran upstairs before I stopped to think about what I'd said. As far as I could tell, I had agreed to meet Paola at an ice cream shop an hour later to....watch people dance salsa together on top of a wooden table while on bicycles. What? I figured there was nothing for it but to go, so I asked my family how to get to this ice cream shop and changed clothes.

Then I started to get nervous. I was going to be walking by myself (granted, only about five blocks) to a busy ice cream store on the ocean-front boulevard, which is famous for loud music, large crowds, and general confusion. And it was getting closer to dusk. I asked my family if it seemed safe to walk there and they said it was. Even though I trust their judgment and know they care a lot about me, I was hesitant. And then there was the question of time: If Paola said 5pm, did she mean right at 5 or did she mean a more Dominican 5 a la 5:20? I didn't want to be waiting at the ice cream shop alone for 20 minutes.... The more time passed, the more nervous I got, until even I could recognize that it was probably out of proportion to the event at hand.

Knowing that in all likelihood this was going to be fun and I would be fine, I got ready and decided to leave the house at 5, hoping Paola would already be there. Even though the day was cloudy, I donned my big sunglasses (I find I get less attention on the street this way - I think because people can't see where I'm looking and can't tell that my eyes are blue) and struck out with a confident walk. I reached the ice cream shop with no problem and looked around for Paola.

She was nowhere to be seen. Still nervous, I leaned against a column and tried to blend in. A little girl, about five, stood on a chair to be eye-level with me, leaned in to my face, and started chatting in pristine Spanish. Between scampers over to her grandparents, she pointed out all her family members, including a description of how unimpressed she was by her five-year-old boy cousin. Then she proudly counted to five in English. I hadn't wanted to attract any attention, but I was so grateful to have this uninhibited little girl for company. Sure enough, at about 5:20, Paola walked in and we did the Dominican cheek-kiss greeting.

This was the first time Paola and I had successfully met up, so our conversation was of the basic get-to-know-you type, which, thankfully, is usually in present tense. Paola asked if I wanted ice cream and I said, sure. Dominican ice cream is served in really squat waffle cones and, regardless of the flavor, covered in a thick strawberry syrup and often sprinkled with that Fruity Pebbles cereal from the States. There was a little confusion when I ordered only a single scoop of sherbet (chinola - my favorite Dominican flavor) without any of the toppings. (Hey, if I saw a girl walk in at 5:30 on a cloudy day wearing sunglasses and then proceed to refuse the strawberry syrup, I'd be confused too.) Paola insisted on paying, since she had invited me - another cultural custom.

Finally, with ice in hand, we headed out to see the salsa-ing bicyclists. It turns out it was a performance of bicycle tricks on a huge wooden ramp in the middle of the street. (So I had correctly caught the words bicycle, wooden, and tricks, though I still don't know how I got salsa...) As it turned out, Paola and I were both too short to see over the crowd, so we ended up sitting by the water's edge and chatting. She was very patient with my Spanish and we had a great conversation. Paola has also just moved to this city, and we shared our feelings of bewilderment in how to get around, what it was like looking for friends, and how we missed an active social life. It turns out she is really interested in learning to salsa, so we might take classes together once I've learned merengue and bachata. Exciting!

After about an hour, while it was still light, we said good-bye and I walked back to the house, nerves replaced by confidence. Even now, I am still absurdly proud of executing my first "friend-date" by myself - phone call, plan, walk, conversation, return... all of it! It's funny to me how things so simple in the US become such a challenge for me here, and then such an achievement! And now I have wonderful friends in the clinic, someone outside the clinic, and a lovely Dominican family to spend time with.

As Vonnegut writes, "Do one thing everyday that scares you." ....no matter how small! xoxo