Day 2: More to Come

If I had written yesterday, I would have written about smells. About salt water and sea weed, fresh bread and platanos, sweat and smoke. But today was full of laughter, something that rings in the air like music here. In fact, it accompanies the never ending sound of music very well. I woke up to music, despite the radio in our guagua being off, our ride was filled with music. There is something truly beautiful about a place that has it's own, carefree, rhythm. A rhythm that feels like warm smile or welcoming hug. When we arrived at Project Las Americas' Complejo Cultural y Deportivo La Chocolatera, we arrived to girls playing drums and were greeted with a dance. From there the morning/afternoon was one long, happy dance.

I must have met twenty boys and girls with big smiles and some of the best dance moves I have ever seen. One thing that has stuck out to me since we arrived was how well a smile translates; a smile is a universal symbol of joy and there was no shortage of smiles today. Even in our most intense volleyball games, the arguing over a missed bump or a bad pass was almost instantly replaced with a hearty laugh and a gleaming smile. The language barrier, while always in the back of my mind, was never really a worry. Children communicate in a language so simple we almost forget what it is. Every child we passed today made a point to wave. How many strangers did you wave to today? A little girl grabbed my hand and hugged my waist before I even asked her name. Two little boys spotted the frisbees in my hands and immediately waved me over to play. These were some of the things that touched my heart the most today, these were the things that made my heart sing. Instant friends with nothing besides a few frisbees and a smile. I forgot that it could be that simple and in a place like DR, it is really just that simple. After our time with las hermanitas de Project Las Americas, we went on to visit a small migrant community framed by mountains. We were greeted with a song. Our task was to help move a single mother's belongs from one home to another, as that day (in about 15 minutes) hers was pushed/dragged/kicked to the ground. In emptying her two room home, made with tin roofing, tree branches, and banana leave, I found a monumental learning experience. We stood in a line and passed her pots, water jugs, baskets, clothing, and mattress to the house up the hill. In this moment I understood just how much I have. The stream of belongings was shorter than I expected; how much of what I have do I really need? And her home came down in minutes. Her face was full of hope that will probably last the year. Tonight, I am feeling very introspective and anxious with anticipation for tomorrow.