Sometimes the Dominican Republic feels like home, and sometimes I don’t understand what is happening. Some days I can have a full conversation in Spanish, and other days I just hear gibberish. One moment I'm marveling at the beautiful blue sky and the next I'm wondering why they engulfed the bottom half of the fire hydrants in cement. After being here for only six months, there are a few differences I’ve noticed between Buffalo, New York, and the San Pedro de Macoris.
First, there are millions of mosquitoes, and they are everywhere. Now that it’s winter, there are some days when I don’t see any, but in the summer there are swarms of little demons just waiting to attack. Upon moving here, my suitcase came stocked with several months’ supply of deep woods bug repellent, but it was no match for Dominican mosquitoes who can bite through jeans.
Once we were standing outside a friend’s house waiting to go in when Mariano turned to look at me, stopped talking mid-sentence and slapped my forehead as gently as he could. At first, I stared in disbelief until I saw the tiny outline of a mosquito smashed in his palm. People hit themselves to kill mosquitoes all the time, but it wasn’t the best plan because my forehead had a giant welt for approximately an hour before it deflated. I had no idea I was allergic to their saliva, but a little dab of Vicks vapor rub soothed the pain, and I learned something new that day.
The second and most noticeable difference is that almost everyone stares at me. As a very white American who has lived in New York her entire life, many people cannot believe how pale I am. People in the United States try to make themselves darker and tanner, while Dominicans think white skin is gorgeous. Many individuals have told Mariano and I how beautiful my skin is. And it isn’t even me they are looking at, because I’m usually completely covered from head to foot in clothing and a face mask. They just think white skin is pretty, so they stare and make comments.
Third, it is very hot and humid. Since we don’t have an air conditioner and many stores and restaurants don’t have air conditioning either, there is never a break from the humidity. In the summer, I couldn’t walk ten feet without dripping in sweat. A mile walk was the longest hike of my life, and I had to stop for water and shade at least five times for a moment of relief.
Personally, the constant heat was hard because I broke out in a painful heat rash which covered my arms. Then I had allergic reactions to several sunscreen lotions. As someone who wears sweatshirts in the summer, I welcomed the warmth, but my skin rejected it.
However, once autumn came, and the temperature dropped to 85 degrees Fahrenheit, my sweatshirts came out. In fact, we went to the beach last week and completely forgot it was winter until we took one step into the water. It was a beautiful day, but the water was far too cold to swim in. So even though the sweltering sun is a little too hot in the summer, I don’t miss the snow. Not even a little.
Next, there isn’t much privacy living in the Dominican Republic. Most houses in villages and in the city are close together, and people hang their clothes outside to dry. All their clothes. I can hear the neighbors arguing late at night and people singing along to American rock music in the middle of the afternoon.
The kitchen window in our apartment looks directly into another apartment, and we try to keep the curtains closed as much as possible because our neighbors like to stand in that corner of the room without being fully clothed. In fact, as soon as I took this picture, a half-dressed woman walked up to the window as I ducked before she noticed me. To be fair, it’s hot here, so I understand, but I’m definitely not used to the lack of privacy.
Last, the Dominicans I have met here are the most kind, helpful, and generous people. This means they are always watching and staring at what others are doing, but it also means they are ready to help if needed.
When Mariano and I couldn’t find the screen and window store, his cousin who was in the middle of a haircut at the barbershop saw us walking by and offered to give us a ride on his scooter. I don’t know many people who would leave their appointment to drive down the street with a salon cape still around their neck.
When we visit Mariano’s village or his students, families who barely have enough food for themselves prepare delicious rice dishes for us and send us home with fresh fruit from their trees.
All in all, I love the Dominican Republic. Mariano and I hope to live here for many years, if not our entire lives. Basically, if you don’t mind the heat or have allergic reactions to soaps, detergents, sunscreens, bug sprays, and lotions, you should be just fine.
Our Life in the DR | Visit to Morquecho Village
Our Life in the DR | The Rooftop
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