The Danger of Venn-Diagrams

Comparisons are a funny thing. It's something that we naturally do as humans; how does my butt compare to hers, am I having a better hair day or is she, or how does my life journey compare to that which others the same age are embarking on. It's something we learn to start doing at a young age, and in many ways it's helpful. It can keep us in check as we look to others to see what is socially acceptable and morally right. It can help us make decisions that otherwise we may be confused about. We learn to compare in school with venn diagrams, t charts and pro/con lists, and it's something we take out of the classroom and into the real world in order to make sense of the chaos that is life.

Last week, I realized first how dangerous comparisons can be, and then again how they can help us keep perspective. During my week off, I had a hard time with a bout of homesickness. When I was left to my own devices without tasks and activities, I found myself thinking a lot about home and what I was looking forward to. In a lot of ways, this is normal. I can't wait to see my family and to share small moments with them and my friends. But on the other hand, I started to live in the future instead of the moment. I found myself looking forward too often, missing what was right in front of me. I was too busy comparing and planning that I was tuning out the lesson that was right in front of me. Kind of like in class when I took way too many notes and then missed what came next. Some things never change.

And then last saturday I was delivered a blessing in disguise. The week before I was invited by an employee from ADESJO to come to his house and to a private pool with him and his family in thanks for the translating I had done for him the week prior ( yes, I now know enough Spanish to translate. Be proud of me). I honestly didn't want to go. I didn't know the family, and still feel awkward going places without someone in my DR family by my side. Plus the fact that I was going to have to put on a bathing suit after three months of eating platanos. But went I did, as I was invited and that's the nice thing to do- thanks for the lesson in manners, mom and dad. 
When I walked into the family's house, I was immediately struck with not only how nice it was, but how western it seemed. The kitchen was stocked with appliances you would find in the US, and was big and airy. There was American music in the background and I was spoken to in a mix of English and Spanish, as the oldest son speaks it almost fluently, and the mother lived in Canada for a while. Lunch consisted of chop suey over rice, and tuna sandwiches were made to bring to the pool. Taking a tour of the house revealed an actual shower with hot water, and other western comforts. And the time at the pool was spent much like it is in the US; occasional swimming with a lot of drinking and singing. At least, that's what happens on my family vacations. Overall, the day wasn't awful. I survived in my bathing suit, and only felt out of place half of the time. But I can honestly say that I've never been happier to arrive back into Freddy's house with the people that have come to accept me as one of their own.

Here's why. There was a moment when, in being spoken to in English and encouraged to eat my tuna fish sandwich, I forgot that I was in the Dominican Republic. The family and house was so western in so many ways, that it was as if a piece of this country and culture was lost. Not all of it, but enough for me to notice. Sure, the creature comforts there may have been greater, but at what price? If I had ended up living in that type of house, I guarantee you my experience would have been different and for the worst. I wouldn't have learned Spanish as quickly, I wouldn't have eaten as many platanos and I would have lost the experiences of the culture that I find so rich. I would have missed the sounds of the merengue music which were replaced by Bruno Mars. I would have missed the community coming to visit, and half of the family living in the same house. I would have missed the sounds of farm animals in the middle of the night, and I wouldn't have learned how many bucket dumps it takes for me to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. Would life with the other family have been easier? Sure. But I would have missed so much richness. I would have missed everything that I've come to treasure. 

It was with this in mind that I gladly came back to my little home, and hugged the family. It was with this in mind that I took my bucket shower, got dressed, did NOT put any make up on
( ha ha) and then left to go to church with the family, because that's what we do in this culture. And it was with this in mind that I realized that while being homesick is hard, and looking forward is easier than living in the present, I have to let it go. Home will always be there waiting for me, and the time will quickly come where I will go back to it. But this won't always be here, not in this pure and unadulterated way. I don't have a lot of time left to soak up everything here. And as hard as it is, I have to leave my pro con list behind and be here, in the now. As I learned on my LEAP retreat my second year of college, I have to stop anticipating and start participating. Comparing here to home won't do anything but make time go slower, and take me away from what's happening. Home will always be there. My friends and family will always be there. And I will be happy to go home. But until June 13, I also have to remember to be happy here. Because this will soon come to an end. Home never will.

Wishing you a wonderful (almost) April vacation!

Sabrina