As the series of subtle beeps began to crescendo and echo through my head at 4:00 a.m., my alarm clock signaled me of my impending departure. I slowly limped towards the bathroom, trying to adjust my eyes in the dim light, and said to myself, "Why am I doing this?" For a split second, I thought about abandoning this mission because I was hesitant on going to such a foreign place, a sugar plantation field in the outskirts of Dominican Republic. I wanted to help those in need but I questioned whether or not I can make an impact. After all, I was only 14 years old at that time.
As the Crew and I arrived at the bateyes, I became speechless even though I had seen pictures of the conditions in these areas. The people had no adequate hosing and lived without even having the basic necessities such as medicine, electricity, and plumbing. I felt my heart sink, and a crater-like feeling formed in the place where it should be. I wanted to do everything for them but, sadly, there was a limit to how much we can do. It was not until moments later I arrived at the bateyes that I rethought my motive for participating on this mission after meeting a particular person named Melanie.
At one point, I was walking through the field with my sandals on when I stepped on something, in retrospect, what I wished to be mud. I was searching for water or tissues when a girl, who looked around my age came up to me laughing and said something I could not understand. "Mo kontan monne zwin u," I said looking embarrassed. This translates to "nice to meet you," a phrase that I used the most due to my limited vocabulary. The people there spoke Spanish with a mix of Creole, and I found that my years of Spanish I learned in school were not much of help. Unexpectedly, the girl raised her leg and started kicking the grass. I was confused and all I did was stare but after I studied her face and matched few of her cryptic words with English, I finally realized that she was telling me to wipe my sandals on the grass. I burst out a laugh and did what she did. After I desperately cleaned the horrible stench out of my sandals, I strangely felt relief.
Moments later, I heard a "Crack!" She came back and offered me a piece of sugarcane she had cut. Strangely after that incident, our short acquaintance grew into a lasting friendship. We introduced each other to our cultures as she taught me some hand games and I taught her some hip-hop dances. The language barrier was not a problem between us because of the use of our body languages and funny gestures.
Suddenly, I came to an epiphany that my mission was not to heal the sick or uplift them from poverty, but to give these people a sense of happiness and comfort. I learned we are not doctors or nurses but we can be healers. My encounter with that girl helped me realize that a sense of comfort in the midst of troubles can provide powerful relief. I realized that even by spending time with the people at the bateyes, I can make a lasting impression and give them hope. Admittedly, this mission trip caused me to change my mindset on my future missions and helped expand my global awareness on poverty.
As the Crew and I arrived at the bateyes, I became speechless even though I had seen pictures of the conditions in these areas. The people had no adequate hosing and lived without even having the basic necessities such as medicine, electricity, and plumbing. I felt my heart sink, and a crater-like feeling formed in the place where it should be. I wanted to do everything for them but, sadly, there was a limit to how much we can do. It was not until moments later I arrived at the bateyes that I rethought my motive for participating on this mission after meeting a particular person named Melanie.
At one point, I was walking through the field with my sandals on when I stepped on something, in retrospect, what I wished to be mud. I was searching for water or tissues when a girl, who looked around my age came up to me laughing and said something I could not understand. "Mo kontan monne zwin u," I said looking embarrassed. This translates to "nice to meet you," a phrase that I used the most due to my limited vocabulary. The people there spoke Spanish with a mix of Creole, and I found that my years of Spanish I learned in school were not much of help. Unexpectedly, the girl raised her leg and started kicking the grass. I was confused and all I did was stare but after I studied her face and matched few of her cryptic words with English, I finally realized that she was telling me to wipe my sandals on the grass. I burst out a laugh and did what she did. After I desperately cleaned the horrible stench out of my sandals, I strangely felt relief.
Moments later, I heard a "Crack!" She came back and offered me a piece of sugarcane she had cut. Strangely after that incident, our short acquaintance grew into a lasting friendship. We introduced each other to our cultures as she taught me some hand games and I taught her some hip-hop dances. The language barrier was not a problem between us because of the use of our body languages and funny gestures.
Suddenly, I came to an epiphany that my mission was not to heal the sick or uplift them from poverty, but to give these people a sense of happiness and comfort. I learned we are not doctors or nurses but we can be healers. My encounter with that girl helped me realize that a sense of comfort in the midst of troubles can provide powerful relief. I realized that even by spending time with the people at the bateyes, I can make a lasting impression and give them hope. Admittedly, this mission trip caused me to change my mindset on my future missions and helped expand my global awareness on poverty.