As we arrived at the airport, we were accompanied by a friend that has been involved in the program for many years. The foreign air met my nose as my eyes scrolled across the beaten down, one-floor airport. Behind me, my comrades laboriously shoved our luggage in the back of the school bus with the leftover stamina they had from the flight. My eyes wanted to seal shut, but they were pried open by the wonder of this unknown place. Streets were cluttered with straggly dogs that lie between unkept roads and beat down houses. One, two, three, four, five….I lost count after sighting about a couple dozen on overgrown train tracks. The rutted ride came to a stop as we pulled next to a bloodless clay structure. Iron gates trapped the building secured by a weighted lock. Doubt washed over me as I became unsure of how this rugged place would alter my beliefs about God. After being allowed a few hours to refuel our energy, we kicked ourselves into gear and started our mission. The team of thirty was divided into three groups; medical, construction, and kids daycare. That day, I transformed into a doctor.
Each day we were assigned a different batey that was distinguished by a number. The first: 302. My step off the bus was accompanied by children that wore nothing, but smiles. I took a deep breath to process my surroundings; trashed dirt, rusted houses, skinny faces, stray dogs...and a little boy in the distance covering his eyes. His hands grasped his face tighter with every step I grew closer. I softly pulled his fingers away to reveal the smile he was trying so hard to bury. When kneeling down beside him, I couldn't help but to exchange my smile, too. The language barrier between us shattered in that moment. A tangible connection formed as if a galvanized cable was being twisted around our hearts at each end. The day felt shorted as the team had to gather our belongings and load up the bus again after yearly physicals were completed. Hugs and Thanks You's were passed around as the people from the bateyes expressed their gratitude. A sense of satisfaction and delectation filled up my body until it was poured out with my last goodbye. Salty tears rolled down my face as I bent down to wipe his away. The unbreakable wire yanked my heart from my chest with each gasp of breath he searched for to control his sobs. A woman, possibly his grandmother, pulled his tight grasp away from my leg. The tears on his face soon became invisible for me to see as the bus started to drive away.
Before our next visit to another batey the following morning, the bus driver was ordered to drop off the construction team first. Their itinerary for the day consisted of building a house made from sturdy clay compared to the rusted tin square that could be blown over by my grandfather's sneeze. That plan came to a halt when it was discovered that the water has not been running for a few days. Each member trudged off the bus. We chain linked hands around a rust-covered spout as it was asked for us to pray. People began crying out. ”Dear God, we pray that you let this water run Father, that you let us help your people Lord…” Almost every member was given a chance to say a prayer out loud before we heard something. Drip, drop, drip, drop. Little by little the drops started falling quicker before it transformed into a waterfall that could not be tamed.
During the trip, a team member was asked to read a scripture of their choice before we sat down to eat our carb stocked meals and pure sugarcane filled drinks for dinner. One night, I was asked to read a passage. I nervously forced myself to the front of the room as claps and shouts pushed me along. Being unprepared for this request, I closed my eyes and glided by fingers across the pages. I ripped open the bible to a passage that read “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” The night flew by as our alarm woke us up before the sun got a chance to. Our final day would be spent at batey 306. With children's hands curled around my fingers, I wandered throughout the village to explore more of the unknown. While scurrying through tin rusted houses, one in particular jumped out at me in my line of sight. The patches of chipped tin were painted over by a summer grass green paint. A flowered vine was wrapped around a hand painted cross on the side. Intertwined were letters that spelt out “Ecclesiastes 4:12” Curious to what the scripture was, I strutted back to my leader. Responding to my question, she reads “ Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”
Growing up in a non-religious household, I never gave God much thought. When I finally did, my thoughts consisted of doubts that questioned His presence. In search of proof that He does exist, I joined a team that would be going to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip. In those seven days, I experienced more of God and His abilities that I could have asked to experience in a lifetime. I was loved by strangers, moved by stories, surrounded by love, and changed by God. With what I encountered and the unthinkable occurrences I was part of, my beliefs have been forever altered.
