Fishes and Loaves

This morning, we got up extra early, getting downstairs while the hotel staff was still turning on lights and brewing coffee.  We were supposed to have breakfast and be ready to go by 7:15, but the hotel doesn't start serving breakfast until 7:00.  We did pretty much make it, but Rafaelito didn't show up until about 7:45.  We were trying to make the 730 Eucharist at Church of the Epiphany, but we don't arrive until about 8.  We slip into some of the back pews as the celebrant is nearing the end of his sermon   We aren't the last ones in, though.  Others drift in after us.  Many of those present are older and poor, they are waiting for the food program which follows, but they readily participate in the church service.  I really don't know what the sermon was about except for witnessing for Christ - my Spanish gets better (relatively speaking), but not enough to understand that much all together.  Have I mentioned that when these people exchange the peace, they REALLY exchange the peace.  And they sing while they do it.  Joyfully.  There's a concept.  They really mean it.   We have communion and when the service is over, we go outside to the courtyard between the cathedral and the school.  This is where the food program will take place.


There are stone or concrete benchs which line either side of the brick courtyard, with thankfully trees for shade.  In the middle are two iron tables that were painted kind of brick red a long time ago.  Fifty or more people are seated on the benches or standing around in the courtyard or sitting on the ground.  There are five or six folks from the church, including Ellen, who are in charge of the program.  Every Tuesday, they feed whoever shows up until they run out of food, and then, they have a list of forty folks for whom they provide a small bag of staples, the content of which changes a little week by week.  Today, it was spaghetti, sardines, 2 lbs of beans, 2 lbs of rice, and a 4.5 oz of oil, and vitamins.  The food they serve is oatmeal with spices, fry bread, soda and a juice made from some kind of root known as yugo or something like that.  That was my part, to pour the yugo into their cups.  Ellen said there were more people today than ever before.  They still had plenty of food and just a little left over.  Fishes and loaves.  Fishes and loaves.


As we were finishing serving up the food, a couple of ladies and a man began handing out the food.  There are limited resources, so only forty people can be helped and there's a waiting list.  Basically, someone has to die in order to move up on the list.  Each of the forty not only is on the list, but Julius has photographed them and each picture is on the bulletin board as you enter the cathedral so you can know them by name.  As things were winding down, one lady burst out in song.  Despite her advanced years, she has a pretty good voice.  Not to be outdone, another lady also then sings.  Tar says that last week, they were dancing.  Such joy. 


We say goodbye to Bob and Ellen here, and thank Bob for all his stories.  We also say goodbye to Fred who is leaving separately from us to head to Puerto Rico for a week.  So now we are seven, plus Rafaelito.  We head back to the hotel to check out.  It takes a bit, but when we are finally all back in the van with our stuff, we head to the Botanical Garden.  It's a big garden.  We take the train ride around the Garden.  It's pretty neat.  There's a ravine with a neat creek running through it.  I wonder about alligators or crocodiles.  There are some interesting birds, including a fluffly white one, probably some kind of heron.  We get out to walk through the Japanese Garden complete with a large orange torii, or entry gate.  It's so peaceful and graceful. 


On the way, at a suggestion from Savannah (and maybe because he likes it, too), Rafaelito suddenly pulls into a Bon, which is a chain that sells frozen yogurt and ice cream.  Savannah has a bit of a misunderstanding with them about flavors - they insist that the bubble gum and dolce leche flavors they gave her are really strawberry and vanilla.  We get some ice cream for Rafaelito, too.  Then, finally, i

A Day to Shop and Rest and Play

Pictures coming soon...as soon as I catch up with all the words!  I really will finish Wednesday and fill in Friday.



Today, Ellen and Bob came to join us for breakfast.  Then most of us went off to the market to seek out a few 'treasures' as mementos of our journey this past week.  The mercado, which is perhaps a half mile or more from the hotel, is located inside an old food market building, not unlike the one that used to be in downtown Savannah in the Old City Market.  There is a balcony area that we found which still harkens back to that time with some vendors carrying pigs feet and some other butcher delights.  We didn't spend much time upstairs.



Downstairs, as someone described it, is like being in Big Lots, full of thousands of replications of the same Dominican and Haitian arts and crafts, most rather schlocky.  Lots and lots of everything.  And people hounding you to come into their stall.  Prices are negotiable, especially when you start to walk away.  Something I was interested in was 350 pesos (or RD dollars).  But I indicated I was going to continue looking around so it came down to 200.  I was only to get one as a gift, but then decided to get a second one for myself.  So I had a 500 peso bill out.  She looked at me and said it wasn't enough, it was 700.  I reminded her that 200 and 200 were 400 and that was the price she had agreed upon and I wasn't budging.  She eventually gave me the 100 change, but she wasn't very happy.  I don't like to negotiate prices - I'm too American that way, I guess.  I like having the price marked being the price you pay.  Anyway, I got out of there with just a couple of small items because I really didn't like most of what they were offering, and it doesn't take long to get overload there.



Then we walked back to the hotel, dropped off our purchases, and continued on to the Roman Catholic cathedral and its book store.  The Cathedral dates back almost to Columbus , 1524.  His descendants are buried in one of the crypts.  There is a window in that area that looks very Marc Chagall like, but there is no mention of Chagall's name in relationship to that chapel's description.  Michael and Laurie had to go back to the hotel because the guards told them their shorts were too short; they were above the knees.  They change and come back.  However we notice several other people who all have shorts above their knees.  Perhaps it is a coincidence that they are all Hispanic and happen to be with paid guides.


We stop in the cathedral book store, but most of us don't find anything of interest there, or at another religious book store nearby.  Before we go back to the hotel to stay, some of us go to a store that has photograps of cave paintings from the Taino people from thousands of years ago.  The man who does the work is fascinating to talk to.  We then head back to the hotel for lunch and an afternoon on our own.  I try to spend it catching up on this blog!


Dinner tonight is down the El Conde back to the Italian outdoor cafe.  It's wonderful.  Tonight, I have canneloni in a bechamel sauce with a delightful pesto.  It happens to be happy hour all evening so we enjoy a few El Presidente Lights as well.  A nice stroll back down a couple of blocks and we're done for the night.  Tomorrow is an early call to go to an early Eucharist and then working at a food pantry.

Returning to Santo Domingo

We meet again for breakfast by the poolside at Costa Larimar, which is mostly fruit and some unidentifiable dishes that would seem to be some kind of egg dish and the other ones vegetables.  A little while later, they finally bring out muffins and doughnuts, though we discover that the doughnuts will hurt someone if you throw them (honestly, we didn't throw them to find out, it was purely by eating them).  Light and fluffy they are not.  Then we meet for going to church at Jesus Peregrino.  It takes a while for us all to gather.  Sometimes, we are the proverbial herding cats.

Church doesn’t begin right away, anyway, but it is a wonderful experience.  They have tambourines and drums as accompaniements and sing with their hearts.  Everyone seems to know the tunes.  I try my best to fit in all the syllables of the words, whether speaking or singing, but I can never figure out which ones they skip.  Short phrases I do fine with, but the long sentences, they always finish several syllables ahead. Padre Alfredo is the priest here, and they have a full complement of crucifer/server, torch bearers and gospel bearer.  Children don’t receive the Eucharist until age 12.  There aren’t many men present, however men read both the Old Testament and Epistle lessons, though the introduction is by a woman acolyte who also acts as a LEM, handling the chalice.  Not everyone comes up for communion.  Announcements are at the end of the service.  Children begin to line up at the front of the aisle.  Suddenly Bob is beckoning Tar and me up to the front.  I am caught off-guard.  We are asked to bless the children who have come forward.  I am not sure what to say, because I want to speak in Spanish, but my Spanish is incredibly limited.  I decide quickly to just ask their name, tell them mine, and then, as I make the sign of the cross on their forehead, I just say “La Paz del Dio” which I very much hope is the right way to say “the Peace of God.”  They smile tentatively and (I think) appreciate it.  I suspect they are wondering why we are doing the blessing because to the best of my understanding, nothing has been said so far as to who we are.  Before we are through the children, adults come up to join the line.  I stand up from the terrazzo step of the chancel on which I’ve been sitting to finish the blessings.  I am so appreciative of, actually, overwhelmed by, these few minutes to look into these eyes and to have this privilege.  I return to my pew with my heart full.  Then Alfredo blesses a new baby, says birthday blessings over one of the men who has been providing music.  A few more announcements and then Bob speaks for a few minutes.  Now he identifies us.  He invites anyone interested to come up for healing prayers after the service.  Quite a few people come up for a variety of prayers.  Bob shares the prayers with Tar and me, as we pray in both Spanish (him) and English (us).  At the end, Bob says a special prayer for Laurie.  Some of the little girls come up together and lay their hands on Laurie without being prompted.  I have tears in my eyes with Bob’s prayer and seeing the children.  Then Tar says a prayer of thanksgiving for the ministry of Ellen and Bob in the DR as they are about to transition to retirement back in the States.



It has been quite a full morning in terms of taking it all in.  We arrived at the church at 8:30 and somehow it has gotten to be 11:00 and time has pretty much flown by.  But it is time to go, so we get on the road.  This barrio is so poor.  It is so hard to figure out how anyone here can afford anything, and yet women are outside their homes (huts, hovels, whatever), frying, steaming, stewing in these big, multi-purpose cooking pots.  No one would choose this life and they would obviously not be here if they really had a choice, but these people make the best of it.  For those who come to church, it is truly a refuge and a source of hope in an otherwise very challenging world, a world that you and I would never know how to cope in. 



We go back and check out of our hotel.  There is confusion about the bill, but it gets straightened out.  Then, we head back towards Santo Domingo.  Barahona is only about a hour from the Haitian border.   On the way back, we stop in Bani at the Church of the Transfiguration and meet the priest, Melquilla.  Her smile is infectious.  She is in charge of four congregations and three schools.  She previously had one large congregation.  We happen to be at Tranfiguration on the day when the Gospel is about the Transfiguration, so they celebrated that in this church earlier.  This church has two distinct groups of people that it serves - a richer group which own businesses in Santo Domingo, and, on the other side, literally, a poor barrio.   Very different needs and perspectives.  There is a school here, but only up through sixth grade.  The city recently built a public school which has drawn a lot of students away.  Public schools are free; private are not.  Enrollment is down to about 90.  But the public school only goes up to eighth grade, so the church is thinking about offering a high school.  The way many of the church schools operate is to have two shifts, a morning and an afternoon, in order to share space.  We take Melquilla to lunch.  Another Pollo Rey.  Another not great lunch. 



There is a presidential election here in May.  The current ruling party is the PLD (can't remember what it stands for).  Their colors are purple and gold - very regal.  The current president, Fernandez, has served the allowed two terms, so he has to go.  Their candidate is a man named Danilo.  His name and face are everywhere.  There is a rally for him this day in Bani.  In fact, he is even ohere and we see his tricked out cadillac go by as we are dining al fresca at Pollo Rey.  You have never seen so many crazy political fans waving flags from vans, mini-busses, motorcycles and scooters, you name it.  And the bass booming music!  There are trailers with nothing but speakers that would seem capable of reverberating buildings into rubble if they hit the right harmonic, not to mention the din of honking horns.  And as we hit the highway again, there are flotillas of cars all decorated with vinyl coverings (looking like paint jobs) for Danilo.  I cannot even imagine the money being poured into this campaign.  There are a number of other candidates, including a previous president known for his corruption, Papa.  If only this money were being put to a use that actually helped people out of the overwhelming poverty and unemployment.  There are some infrastructur projects that have come out of this campaign, which are basically (in a more jaundiced view of things) a pork barrel way of getting votes.




After lunch, we go to Melquilla's larger church, people-wise, El Carreton.  This long, skinny community is very rural.  It stretches along either side of a road, which is paved farther than it used to be, thanks to the election campaign.  Behind it on either side are fields with a few cows grazing or banana trees or other crops.  Melquilla gives us an idea of what other crops come from this area, including tomatoes and green beans.  We stop at the little blue church.  It's much smaller physically than Transfiguration, but larger and more active in terms of parishioners.  It has a very cute, child-like mural on the wall behind the altar.  I can't figure out how they keep these buildings so free of bugs, nests and cobwebs when the cinder blocks have openings in them and there are lots of open air windows and other opportunities.  Especially when there are fields all around.  They must constantly dust wooden pews in this country.  Some of the altars do have plastic cloths over them to keep dirt or whatever off of the fair linens.  Again, we are welcomed by some of the parishioners.  And Bob points out that Melquilla does not have the key to the church, the Senior Warden or other parishioners do.  Lay involvment is so important in these congregations, especially considering that the priests all serve at least two congregations, and many of them do not have cars to travel back and forth, includ Melquilla.  She pays someone from Tranfiguration a little bit of money to transport her.  We then drive up the hill to th school.  This community has been visited by our sister congregations in the Southeast Convocation of the Diocese.  The setting for the school is really nice, as the view out of the louvered windows is over the tops of the banana trees to the mountains.  A light breeze riffles through the big, bright green leaves.  The classrooms are so bright and airy.  But even though the building is almost new, it already has a major plumbing issue thanks to the contractor.  The diocese has used him for years, even though he keeps making major mistakes.  It doesn't seem to make much sense.  It will need to be fixed at his expense.   On the outside, the building is a cheery cantaloupe color on the bottom and cream on the top, sort of reminiscent of a dreamsicle.  A nearby house is that same color, probably not coincidentally.  It is the house of the older lady, a member of the church, who gave the land for the school.  There is a really interesting tree next to the school.  At some point, years ago, it must have fallen or been blown over.  But then, the tree was not resigned to die.  It simply decided to orient itself upwards towards the heavens and continued to grow.  Now it makes for a very gnarly bench in the shade and a unique tree.  Perhaps something to ponder.  And besides that, on the other side of the tree, as we walk around, there is a big hollow space, and as we into carefully, suddenly, there is a comb and beak and two fearful, blinking eyes and a whole lot of feathers looking back at us.  It is a nesting hen, sitting on eggs.  We quietly take non-flash pictures and leave her in peace.  The vista from the hillside is muy linda, very beautiful.



Next we head to the third of Melquilla's four churches and are we in for a wonderful surprise!  It is officially known as The Church of the Holy Name of Jesus.  It perhaps ought to be known as the Church of Holy Light.  Because it is almost completely open to light and because of what the women (yes women, again) radiate.  Once again, such a very poor barrio.  People living in places that we probably wouldn't keep garden tools in.  To get there, Rafaelito takes a very slow, hairpin turn off of the highway onto first a gravel road that doubles back under the highway by a canal.  The hovels on either side are unbelievable - I didn't capture the worst of them in my pictures.  The road turns to rutted dirt as we travel on up beyond the other side of the highway.  We are into a neighborhood that a tourist would never see.  Melquilla has a 4 pm service and they are waiting on her.  She directs us where to stop.  It is the ruins of a house.  Really.  Only part of the structure has a roof.  There are some posts out front which the women have painted and to which they have nailed large cans.  In the cans, they've planted flowers of different kinds.  In the covered part of what remains of the building, there are wooden benches.  Five women are waiting.  There's a bulletin board on the back wall with some notices, like how to set up the altar.  The altar is a small table with a white lacy tablecloth on it.  There are candles, pottery chalice and patten, bread and wine.  They have Melquilla's alb and green stole all ready for her.  She dons it with a quick, "Time to go to work!" and flashes one of her smiles.  This is exactly what Jesus would have done.  In fact, it's exactly what Jesus DID do.  One of the younger women has huge rollers in her hair (we've seen a lot of that) and she's embarrassed to have her picture taken, but then she acquiesces.  What a wonderful little church.  They really do bear the name of Jesus.  As we get back in the van, someone makes the suggestion that we stay to have church with them.  It's really tempting.  Bob would rather us not be on the road after dark.  We end up heading back.



It isn't that long of a drive back into Santo Domingo, but we get stuck for a bit in another political rally.  This one is for Papa.  All of us are ready to be back at the hotel.  It's been a long two days of riding in the van and all of us thought the hotel last night was a little bizarre.  With Rafaelito's skillful edging through the traffic, we finally get through.  After a little rest, we meet to go out for dinner.  We walk to a large plaza near the river which has a number interesting restaurant choices.  We choose Angelo's and go up to the rooftop.  There's a neat wrought-iron railing of grape vines that runs the entire way up.  Only on the doorway in front of the wine cellar are there grapes.  The furniture on the interior of the restaurant is, well, exuberant?  Each dining table and set of chairs is different.  All of it is large, heavy framed, sort of like big mirrors, but differently shaped.  One is golden with leaopard print, another black with zebra, another is bright red velvet.  I suggest we bring back one of the gold and leopard chairs as the bishop's chair for Trinity.  It would certainly stand out.  Up on the roof it is a gorgeous view, though the sky is cloudy instead of starlit.  We opt for a couple of appetizers (a shrimp cocktail, and a seafood mixture - mussels, shrimp, squid) and some pizzas to share.  Then Michael orders us some creme brulees.  It's a very nice meal.  We talk about what we've seen and experienced, what perhaps should be our criteria for deciding on a mission site and what our sense of that is.  But we don't make a firm decision.  Michael also asks our waiter, Jonathan, how we can be a blessing to him.  He is rather taken aback by the question.  But then, when he realizes that Michael is perfectly serious, he says that he had to quit high school.  So now he is going back to school to try to learn English.  After the bill is paid (Michael treats Savannah and me - thank you!), we hold hands and pray and invite Jonathan to join us.  Then he also lets us know that he has twin daughters.  So I include all of that in the prayer.  I think he really appreciates it.  And I'm quite sure that none of his previous patrons have ever asked him anything like that.  We say good night to the waitstaff and then we stroll back to the hotel.  A very good day.  Many blessings.

 

Traffic speed bumps – sleeping policeman – policia acostado

Heading Westward towards Barahona

Saturday morning comes early, and we meet Bob for breakfast downstairs about 7:30 before leaving Santo Domingo to head westward along the coast.  On the way out of the city, we pass the monument the dictator, Rafael Trujillo  (ruled from 1931 - 1961) built to host the “World’s Fair” to which no one came.  A short while later, we also pass by the ugly monument where Trujillo was assassinated.  It is meant to be ugly to represent how ugly Trujillo's regime was.  Bob tells us the story of his assassination and some about his horrendous reign of espionage and rule.  Keeping in mind the time frame (Cuba-Castro-Bay of Pigs, an attempted overthrow of the Venezuelan government), seven men, armed with CIA provided weapons waited in ambush for Trujillo as he drove towards his home down the coast a little ways in San Cristobal.  They had attempted to kill him once before.  It is rumored that the guns had been hidden within the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany (the Cathedral), Bob said.  When the men started firing, Trujillo got out of the car, perhaps thinking he was invincible, and started shooting back.  His body was riddled with bullets.  They put his body in the trunk of a car and left the car in a driveway of a house.  Within a month, six of the seven attackers were dead, because Trujillo’s son came to power.  The son then fled to France about a year later, where he was killed in a car accident within a year.  Coincidence?  Hmmm.  The driver of Trujillo’s car survived until about four years ago – but he never spoke about the ambush and assassination.  The seventh man who attacked him also survived because he fled to the US, and he wrote a book, but eventually came back to the DR.  He just died about seven or eight years ago.  The seven men were part of the same revolutionary movement as the Marybelle sisters, and for which the priest Charles Barnes was martyred.  Bob recommends another book, The Feast of the Goat, to learn more about the times and events.

We go on to Haina, the largest port on the southern coast of the DR, perhaps in the country.  It is very much a blue-collar, working-class town.  We stop at San Marcos church and school. We meet with Alejandro, who is on the Vestry.  He used to be the Jr. Warden.  His wife now is.  They have a woman priest, but she is away at a retreat.   Alejandro thinks the Epis.copal Church is on the right track with all of its efforts to grow new churches, start schools and meet other social needs such as clinics and food pantries.  San Marcos has a very active congregation.  It is the largest school in the diocese with over 600 students.  This campus is in pretty good shape.  The original small church-in-the –round building is now the library.  The large church is beautiful.  A very lovely stained glass window was designed, made and given by an Episcopalian artisan from Virginia.  A local artist from Haina painted a mural of John baptizing Jesus under the stairwell near the font.  Pendular lights were donated from a church in Virginia.  Fifty scholarships a year for the school are provided by Immanuel-on-the-Hill, across from Virginia Seminary every year.  This is one of the few places that has a separate building for preschool.

We’re now in San Cristobal – home to Trujillo, but much more importantly, home to Rafaelito, our wonderful driver. How Rafaelito manages to keep his calm in this traffic and squeeze through it like he does is a complete mystery - or perhaps miracle.  He is amazing and wonderful and incredibly humble.   There is a beautiful city square in San Cristobal.  People like to gather in their public spaces, or really anywhere, here.  Dominicans are very social people.  There is frequently loud music and laughter associated with gatherings.  There is no museum to Trujillo, thanks be to God.

We stop in Santana (Saint Anne’s), where the church and school are San Matias (Saint Matthias).  The priest here, Ramon, has only been ordained for about a year, but he was a professor of philosophy at a Roman Catholic seminary for nine years.  Free range chickens roam the playground.  The school here started with only a preschool, but then, the church was asked by the town to build a school through grade 12 because children had to cross a major highway.  Around here, just crossing a regular street can be dangerous, so it's easy to see why they were concerned about the highway with their children.  The people from the town helped build the new school.  The open-air multi-purpose building used to be a pig barn, but was cleaned out to use for its present purposes as the dining area  and covered gathering spot.  The computer room, with half a dozen or so computers is completely useless  as they are all either obsolete or broken.  They need a good computer tech to see if anything can be salvaged from what they have, but basically, they just need much newer computers.  They also have a very poor library and need books in both Spanish and English.  The desks are in terrible repair - they're the one-armed kind made for right-handed people, and the metal parts need to be repainted and the formica tops are all breaking off. Padre Ramon's biggest concern however, is general security for the whole complex.  They simply have a 4' cyclone fence that is easily compromised, so gangs or others can come in and steal sound equipment or anything else from the church or school.  His desire is to have a concrete and rebar wall to deter theft around most of the property.  A team working with this church and school would either need stay in Bani or on campus, in which case they would need portable showers.  This place feels like the neglected teddy bear in the dark corner of the toy box.  It feels lonely and neglected.  It calls out to me and some of the others.

After we leave Santana, we begin to enter the desert area of the DR.  It's amazing what topological (if that's the right word) diversity there is here.  Some places look positively tropical.  Some are mountainous.  Here, there are small cactus like saguaro in miniature.  Everything is very dry and brown.  Then we come to where there is truck farming and they grow lots of tomatoes and make all the ketchup.  We pass dump trucks full of thousands of tomatoes (imagine the mess they'd make in an accident!) on their way to a ketchup plant.  Sharp mountains rise up to the north of us.  Some places look almost like the southwest US.




Lunch is in Azua, where some other mission teams have worked.  At Pollo Rey, Chicken King.  Not great.  Basically American fast food style.  Then we go to the Church of the Reconciliation, and meet their priest, Jesus (another good name for a priest).  The church is under construction, but well underway.    The first floor has been tiled.  There’s a beautiful blue tile cross on the top of the front and another on what will be the wall behind the altar.  Spray painted on the wall are marks for where the Stations of the Cross will be.  Then we go upstairs to where the padre lives with his family.  Several members of the church join us.  The hospitality everywhere here is amazing.  We as relatively very wealthy Americans, would think that they can't afford to offer anything, and yet they never fail to offer hospitality in one form or another.  Here, they offer us cups of Coke.  Because the climate is so temperate, many houses have porches that are used as a room of the house.  This home has another wonderful open porch which overlooks the small grove of banana (or plantain, I can't tell the difference) trees in the backyard.  The padre and the women each welcome us, as Bob and Josan translate.  Then, we drive to where a team from our diocese built a house for a woman with several children.  It’s impossible to describe the horrible conditions of the shed they used to live in, which is right behind their new home: blocks, rusting corrugated metal, sticks of wood all with holes plugged with rags and bits of foam rubber.  The new home may not look like much to us, but it is two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room.  There is a refrigerator, a small stove, two beds neatly made, all in a cinderblock home with a smooth floor.  She is so proud of it.  Two of the women with us have also had homes built for them and they proudly point them out as we drive by.  Then we go to see San Jorge (St. George).  It is the oldest church built in the old style still in use.  Post and beam construction with clapboard siding of halved small saplings.  It’s been painted many times, but not for a while.  There is a back yard, fenced in with block.  Under a shelter roof, there is a painting of a momma chicken and her pios (chicks) to teach children the days of the week.  There is the old outhouse that (hopefully) is no longer used for bathrooms.  Sunday attendance in this small building is about 80 or 90.  It’ll cost about $100,000 to build a new church, but that’s what they need.  The church has only plastic white chairs, folding chairs and a few benches.  As we think we are about to leave, Jesus and the women break out into song.  They sing a song in which each verse includes one of us by name to invite us back.  It’s very sweet and touching and joyful.  We drop the women and Jesus off back at the church and get underway again for Barahona.

It’s a bit of a drive, so we do a Bible study as we go.  It’s on the Gospel for Sunday, which is Mark’s version of the Transfiguration.  It’s a good discussion.  The idea of Jesus changing appearance makes me think of a picture that Julius took at San Juan Bautista where the picture on the wall of Jesus is right next to the face of one of the male singers in the choir and there is such a similarity between the two faces.  We have seen Jesus transfigured into so many faces in the last several days; we have only to look into the eyes and smiles before us, in to the least of these who face incredible deprivation from what we are so used to and take for granted.  Jesus has been before us in the faces of those who have provided such wonderful hospitality, such gracious welcome, such hope and perseverance in the face of so little.




We reach Barahona and go first to the church, Jesus Peregrino, Jesus the Pilgrim.  It is in the midst of a very poor barrio, one of the poorest we’ve seen, which is saying something.  Children are everywhere.  According to Bob, there are lots of single mothers here, lots of drugs.  The main industry is a sugar cane processor, but the work is getting more mechanized and is slowing down, so fewer employees.  Lots of unemployment.  The church has a school with it that goes up to third grade.  They are planning on opening a bakery to sell bread to the neighborhood.  They own a piece of property on the corner across from the church, but the bishop hasn’t decided exactly how to use it.  If we were to come here, projects might include building bathrooms, repairing roofs or homes, painting, or doing a VBS.  Afterwards, we go to the hotel, Costa Larimar, “where all your dreams come true.”  It looks great from the outside, white with blue trim.  It's named after the gemstone which is found only here in the DR, which is blue and white.  The hotel has a pretty pool with poolside dining and bar.  A flagstone walk goes out to the beach.  But it’s the last rose of summer.  The interior is shabby chic without the chic.  But it’s perfectly serviceable.  We get settled in and meet downstairs.  I walk out to the beach, but don’t feel particularly safe, so come back in to the bar.  The bar is not very well stocked, so I just have an El Presidente Light beer again.  Dinner is included in our bill.  Some of the folks comment that it is somewhere between Dominican and American food, but it seems pretty much like everything else we’ve had. Carrot Soup, Arroz Mexicali (Mexican Rice), a sweet carrot dish for over the rice, beef chunks that I don’t try, a shrimp seafood mixture that’s also good over the rice, and a few other things.  Some fresh tomatoes that might have come from the fields we passed.  They don’t do desserts well.  There are some red or green servings in sherbet dishes that are gelled but have either kiwi or an unidentified fruit in them.  They are incredibly sweet and pretty inedible.  Some folks try the option that looks like cheesecake, but it is very hard to slice into and it's pure sugar according to those who tried it.  Oh well.  Early to bed.  No internet or phone access from this place.  Phone access has been very sketchy for the last day or so anyway.  It doesn't seem as though there are very many people staying here besides our group.  It's a strange feeling place and I don't sleep very well.  Early in the morning, I think I hear someone trying to enter our room, but fortunately, there's a chain on the door.  Perhaps it's just my imagination...

Points Northward to San Francisco de Macoris

Eastward to San Pedro de Macoris

We head eastward toward San Pedro de Macoris.  On the way, we stop in Santa Fe (Holy Faith) and see the Church of the Holy Cross (Santa Cruz).  The priest there is Padre Felix Incarnacion – what a name for a priest (Happiness Incarnate)!  But he has not known a life of only happiness.  His oldest son, who was much beloved, drowned last year at the age of 23.  His first wife also died of cancer, but he has remarried and feels very blessed with the two other sons from his first marriage and a child from this marriage.  This church has a good youth group, a good men’s group (which is unusual) and a Sunday attendance of more than 100 members.  Once again, it is women who are very present and involved in the running of the church.  The women who come to greet us are the head of the Episcopal Church Women and the Daughters of the King and the Senior Warden.  A man comes in who is from the Men’s Group.  The school and the church are about a block apart in the little village.  There's a big Roman Catholic church across the street – they get government funding, so as soon as we started building a school and the church started growing, the Roman Catholics expanded their church.  The Dominican Development Group folks, who are liaisons between the Diocese of the DR and their various companion dioceses, are here to begin to build a new church because it is growing.  This present building will come down and move into another building which will eventually become a technical school. 

Next, drive the rest of the way into San Pedro de Macoris and we visit Buen Pastor, Good Shepherd.  This is a little community in a barrio (neighborhood) run by the sisters of the Order of the Transfiguration out of Cinncinnatti, OH.  There are three sisters, Priscilla, Gabrielle and JoAnna.  They’ve been there for 20 years, growing the ministry into a congregation, a medical clinic and a small school (preschool through 6th grade, with 200 students).  They have very faithful financial support from a number of folks, with plans to accomplish before they each retire in the next few years.  They want to tile floors, cover the playground with a soft material, and solidify financial support for the clinic.

Then we go to San Esteban (St. Steven’s) in San Pedro, which is quite a complex.  It has a large school, the Kellogg Retreat Center, and a large clinic.  Fr. Alvaroa nd his wife Anjelina are quite a team.  They met in Columbia, their home country, when he, as a Roman Catholic priest, was coming to see her father, who was dying.  As he got to know her father, he also got to know her.  The Roman Church found out about the relationship and gave him the opportunity to move to either India or the DR.  He chose the DR because it was close.  They stayed in contact and ended up getting married.  And of course, he left the Roman  church and became an Episcopal priest.  They exude love and hospitality, which is exactly what they want to do with they ministry.  The school had major disciplinary problems before their arrival.  Enrollment had dropped to 90 students because of it.  Alvaro fired 20 of the teachers, though not all at once, and started enforcing discipline and respect and, most importantly an atmosphere of love.  It’s working.  Enrollment is back up to 325, though to be stable financially, it needs to be at least 500.  There is much to be done with the school.  But it is changing for the good.  The Kellogg Center reflects Anjelina’s loving domestic touch.  Everything is freshly painted, clean and bright.  Curtains are aqua and orange, which match the bright bed spreads in the guest rooms and also the oilcloths on the tables in the dining area.  It feels welcoming and comfortable.  They are expecting the Presiding Bishop soon for her third visit to the Dominican Republic.  We have lunch at the Kellogg Center.  Beans and rice, with the special rice – that which sticks to the pan “con con” put in a special dish, “pica pollo” pieces of chicken, fresh fruit, something like sweet potato fritters, and a plantain soufflé perhaps, containing mashed plantains with cheese on the bottom.  Everything tastes wonderful.  After lunch, we go on to the clinic.  On the way, we pass what used to be the rector’s home.  They hope to renovate it and be able to keep nine more guests there.  Right now, it’s boarded up.  The clinic, Clinica Esperanza (Hope Clinic) is in a building that supposedly was falling down.  It seems to be built like a bunker, so that’s hard to understand.  Upstairs, some of it is used (retrofitted) and some not.  It has a view of the water a hundred yards away.  In the backyard, there are chickens running around.  There’s a nice classroom with modern projection equipment.  They let community groups rent it out.  There are some offices up here.  Downstairs is a clinic that works with people with HIV/AIDS.  The beautiful young woman who runs the clinic, grew up in the school, began volunteering at age 15 as soon as the clinic opened.  She went to college and medical school and stayed here as the doctor.  She is now Dr. Louisa.  What a story.  They see about 3000 people per month, counting family members of those with HIV/AIDS, and about 32,000 patients per year, both in the clinic and through home visits.  They do a lot of education in the schools and neighborhoods.  All that she describes is amazing and impressive.  From this clinic, we go next door to the physical therapy area.  Here, we meet a woman named Kathy, who comes for 3 years at a time with SAMS missions.  She’s from Colorado.  She lives in Santa Fe, where we visited earlier in the day, and commutes here.  She is so positive.  She spends time both teaching people how to do therapy and also doing therapy.  There is also a separate pediatric therapy room for children up to age 18, though it is obviously geared for much younger.  The back porch is contains a treadmill (which doesn't work) and some other gym/therapy equipment.  Most of the rooms in the clinic and the Kellogg Center are air conditioned, which is rare.  Pretty much all of the churches and classrooms are open air with the windows have metal vents, like jalousie windows, that open for light and air flow.  Three-bladed ceiling fans are also common. 

 On the way back to Santo Domingo, we detour into Boca Chica to pick up the DDG folks who were looking at another project.  Here, we take a look at San Jose Church and school, but spend more time visiting the Bishop Isaac Home for Senior Citizens.  It is one of only 37 or so such places in the DR.  There are only eleven residents.  One has only very recently died.  There are two residents to a room; they each have twin beds.  There is a nice porch and a couple of small common areas.  The home is named after the first native-born deacon, priest & bishop of the Dominican Episcopal church.  It's been open since Spring 2007. 

We head back to Santo Domingo, engaging a lot of traffic as we go.  This evening, we wander down the El Conde, the promenade, and end up at a restaurant with a sidewalk cafe.  Most of us end up with something Italian.  It's pretty good comfort food.  It's been a good day.

Around Santo Domingo

Wednesday's Orientation session at breakfast

Wednesday morning comes early after only what seems like a few hours sleep.  But the hotel offers a very nice buffet breakfast.  Bob Snow joins us to give us an orientation for the upcoming week.  He talks about this diocese from his sixteen years of experience that he and his wife, Ellen, have spent here.  It has changed a great deal in that time, and continues to grow dramatically under the leadership of Bishop Holguin.

Cathedral Church of the Epiphany

We begin our week of visitations with some churches around the city of Santo Domingo, the first being the Cathedral Church of the Epiphany.  Here, we meet the Rev. Ashton Brooks, originally from the British Virgin Islands.  He was the first priest to be ordained in this diocese.  He gives us some of the history of the diocese and of the church.  The diocese was formed by families coming the BVI with the sugar cane industry in 1897 in the town of San Pedro de Macoris (which we'll visit tomorrow).  Bishop Holly, the first African American bishop in the Episcopal Church, ordained the Rev. Wilson be sent from Haiti to the DR to establish a congregation.  Along with Haiti, the DR became a part of the Episcopal Church, but only under the supervision of the diocese of Puerto Rico.  Most of the early work done here was through missionary priests.

    

In 1936 the Rev. Charles Barnes arrived in the DR to serve the people of Epiphany, Santo Domingo.  In 1937, the armed forces of dictator, Rafael Trujillo, werekilling hundreds of Haitians along the
border.  Barnes was sending information back to the US in an attempt to end the killings.  Some of them were intercepted by Trujillo's soldiers.  On the night of July 26th, 1938, the Rev. Barnes was arrested and taken before the dictator where he was beaten tdeath and his body deposite in the rectory of the church.  A church employee was arrested for the crime and later found hung in his cell.  There was proof however, of the dictator's involvement.  The priest's remains are interred beneath a stone tablet entombed in the floor of the church.  In order to receive communion, people have to walk across it each time. It's a powerful reminder of the cost of walking the way of the cross.


The folks at the Cathedral run a feeding program every Tuesday morning.  We'll have a chance to help with it next Tuesday.  The congregation can to supprt forty people.  Anyone who shows up receives a hearty breakfast, but only the forty people on the list, some of whom are homeless, receive a small bag of groceries intended to keep them fed for a few days.  On one of his previous trips, Julius photographed the forty people so the congregation could post them on a bulletin board at the entry to the sanctuary and get to know them.  There is a waiting list to become one of the foty - unfortunately, it basically takes someone dying in order for someone to move up on the list.  More on the program next Tuesday!


This is the baptismal font at the Cathedral.  Like most Episcopal Churches, it's near the entrance to the church, symbolic of baptism as the means of entering the Body of Christ.  It's a beautiful, carved mahoghany font.  At the time we are there, the light sreams in on it, making the polished wood glow. 

The Cathedral has a beautiful pipe organ, though we don't have an opportunity to hear it.  It was sent in pieces from the States.

The Very Rev. Ashton Brooks

After we get finished in the sanctuary, we get a tour of the rest of the property, including the Cathedral's school.  The little children are very cute and are happy to have us interrupt their classes.  In the DR, children can go to public schools for free, but of course pay for private schools, including the Episcopal schools.  Many of the families are terribly poor.  The diocese tries to provide as many scholarships as possible across the diocese.  Parents will sacrifice a lot to send their children to the Episcopal schools because they have such a good reputation for providing a good education.  



From the Cathedral, we go to another part of Santo Domingo to St. Andrew's Church and School.  We tour the school first.  It's a pre-K through grade 12, so there are hundreds of children.  They all have uniforms, though the older girls and boys find their own ways to stylize it.  School is so universal - the boys are showing off for the girls and the girls are pal-ing around, arm in arm, talking about the boys.  There is a magnificent tree out on the playground.  It's huge, with danging, vine-like roots.  I wonder how long it's been providing shade for people.  If we were to come here, there would be painting to do.  There's a dorm to stay in as well.

Julius and Friend

 

The Church of St. Andrew was built in 1961 and is in the 'modern' architectural design, with the church-in-the-round style.  It reminds me a little of the church in which I was raised.  It's cinder block, with a central, raised altar.  The pews are all made by a 'pew crew' - a mission team that comes down and does nothing but building pews.  The pews are arcs of a circle that form rings around the altar.  Above the altar hangs a carved Christus Rex, a risen, victorious Christ.  By the color of the wood, I assume it is crafted out of mahoghany.  The color in the sanctuary is provided by banners along the back wall.

   



As we go outside of St. Andrew's, I notice a dog on the roof of a house across the street.  It reminds me of the blood hound that was on the roof of the house in Fromista, Spain.  Although the roofs here are, for the most part, flat, it still seems strange to see a dog up on a roof.  This one is taking stock of all the goings-on on the playground of the school.

First Impressions of a New Place

Our destination on the board

Just waiting

Josan and I meet early this morning (Monday) to go walking in the area of our hotel.  It's all office and hotel buildings on winding little roads around ponds with fountains, accompanied by the roaring noise of airplane after airplane taking off nearby.  In a few hours, one of them will be ours.  We walk for about 45 or 50 minutes, making circles around the neatly manicured roads.  Everyone has a nice buffet breakfast in the hotel restaurant before meeting up for the shuttle to the airport.  We check in, make it through the security lines (some TSA folks really do have a sense of humor about what they do), and eventually show up at Gate 7, nearly three hours before we need to be there, but better early than later.  We've never seen so many people with stuffed animals in one place than in this airport (mostly Mickeys and a few Plutos, but at least one Tigger).  And there's one little girl, dressed completely in a long lilac-colored princess dress, completely with tiara.  Perhaps she will grow up to be Cinderella.  Airports are always interesting studies in people!

Boarding begins about 12:20 and we're finally into the air a little after 1 pm.  There are lots of islands out in the Atlantic that I never knew were there.  I can't tell whether they are inhabited or not.  We fly in to a partly cloud-covered island where it hasn't been long since it was at least drizzling.  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it is interesting to watch as we drop lower and lower.  Very green, separated by lots of hedgerows or lines of trees.  Mostly brown, dirt roads.  As the buildings get more distinct, it is easy to see the level of poverty, the poor condition of construction or delapidation, but the colorfulness which adorns most structures is wonderful.

We land to the east of the city of Santo Domingo, virtually on the numbers at the end of the runway.  A smooth landing and a relatively short taxi.  It doesn't take too long to clear through immigration and to get our bags.  As we come the saluda, the exit, many folks are waiting to greet those arriving, but there are two familiar faces just for us - Tar+ in her bright pink jacket and Julius, as always with his camera, making us feel like Hollywood superstars.  It's so good to feel welcome in a place I've never been. 

Michael and Julius in the van.

We find the van from the diocese of the DR and are introduced to our driver, Rafaelito.  All our stuff is loade into the back and we are on our way.  There are light sprinkles of rain as we make our way into the bizarre traffic of the DR.  The only rule of driving here is that there is no rule; or maybe that you have to use your horn to say "I'm coming through!"  No one obeys any sort of traffic sign or light or mark on the road.  It's really rather amazing - especially at intersections and roundabouts.  What a free-for-all.  But Rafaelito handles it expertly. 

The airport is a little ways out of the city, but as we drive in, we get to see the pretty sea wall and park they have built along the coastline.  As we get more into the city, again the poverty is obvious.  Most buildings are concrete block and rebar - rebar sticking out of the top is a sign of hope: it means the owner has aspirations of adding on.  There is such a proliferation of color on buildings, and signs everywhere.  We cross a drawbridge next to where a smaller cruise ship is docked.  There's also quite a sleek private yacht.  The old city wall faces us.  I'm not sure what it is made of, but it rather reminds me of tabby, with oyster shells embedded in it.  There are little observation turrets periodically.  A nice hotel has been built at the top.  We turn into what is known as the "Colonial" section of Santo Domingo, where the buildings are noticeably older.  It's nice, but again, much maintenance is lacking, the stores are not very high quality.  We
pull up to our hotel, which is along a pedestrian promenade, glad to have arrived and to stop moving.  A skinny black dog (but not so skinny as most of the dogs we've seen) greets us at the entry.  Her name, according to Tar, is "Negralita" (Little Black) and she is actually very friendly and likes to roll over and have her belly rubbed.  Unless you are a vagrant.  Then she barks and barks at you.  Perhaps it's the odor, I don't know.


Our hotel room is nice.  Two twin beds, a little refrigerator with snacks.  A TV (Savannah understands a lot more of it than I do).  We look out on to the promenade, which means that all of the people noise travels up to our windows, even though we are on the fourth floor.  We look straight across to an older building, which like many in this district, is empty on its upper floors and in need of preservation.  The shuttered windows and doors are falling apart and the pigeons fly in and out with abandon.  Another sign of the poverty around here. 

After we get settled in, we go up the street to the "blue doored" restaurant, Meson D'Bari.  It's a pretty traditional restaurant, though contemporary art hangs all over the walls like a gallery.  There is much art in this part of town as there is a National Art Academy along the promenade.  I have an eggplant dish rather like eggplant parmesan and some sauteed broccoli.  Tar has warned us against eating salads, seafood, and fresh, unpeeled fruits and vegetables at our peril.  We also drink only bottled water or some other beverage, as tap water isn't safe.  The restaurant is quaint, with plastered walls, wood-shuttered windows, and heavy wood beams - very typical of this colonial section of town.  It's a pleasant evening.  We go around the table and talk about what we are most anticipating on this trip.  Then we retire for the evening.

First Link in the Journey

Josan, Joan and Fred about to depart

And so the adventure begins...

Josan, Fred and I pose as Jessica snaps our picture at the exit of Trinity's parking lot.  We get on the road about 1:15 pm.  With stops only for a quick lunch in Kingsland and to pick up a Florida map at the Welcome Center (no, we don't have GPS in the church van), we make it to our hotel at the Orlando International Airport by about 6:45.  There's a lively conversation in our van the whole time; we never lack for subject matter.  One of our topics is that we are all fine with using maps, and we wonder whether using GPS and peoples' reliance upon it makes "ones' gray cells wither" as an article that Fred is reading this morning seems to affirm!  It's interesting to watch the landscape change.  By the time we are into Florida, it's making Bulloch County look positively hilly.  As we cut westward on FL 528 between I-95 and Orlando, the sun is sinking beautifully in the west.  There are a series of linear shaped clouds that look like fishbones in the sky.  Marshes are on either side of the road.  Herons and egrets are common.  It's not a bad ride, but then, that's easy for me to say, as Fred has been gracious to do all the driving.

Savannah, Josan and Michael on the patio at Bonefish

The other group - Michael, Laurie and Savannah - has arrived a few hours before us and already checked into the hotel.  Michael calls just as we are on the exit ramp from 528 passing our hotel.  He's made reservations for dinner at the Bonefish restaurant for 7:30, so we have time to check in, get settled, and it's close enough to walk to, though a couple in the group would rather take the shuttle!  It feels good to walk the half mile or so after being in the van a good part of the day.  We find out at the restaurant - which is absolutely packed, and makes some of feel that we come from a very small town back home indeed, if this is a Monday night - that our reservations are for another Bonefish in Orlando, so we have about a 25 minute wait.  We go outside on the patio, which is a bit chilly, but not

Laurie and Fred as we wait for dinner

too bad.  A group of business folk are next to us and actually dining outside.  Fortunately, the time goes by quickly enough.

Stephanie is our waitstaff.  Food is great.  Everyone has seafood or fish of some kind or other, with no one having room for the desserts that go parading by.  It's a lovely evening getting to know one another, which is part of the experience.  As Fred talked about in the van, part of our time is allowing the Holy Spirit to move among us and deepen our relationship with each other.  Laurie, whom I've never known before, works with the Corps off Engineers in Savannah.  She is involved with the massive project to deepen the Savannah River for large cargo and container ships to come into.  It was very interesting to listen to her describe the environmental and historic preservation considerations of the whole project, which account for approximately two thirds of the funding.  Savanah, too, is someone new to me.  She is a delight - about to graduate from Valdosta State University and applying for a couple of different graduate programs.  She is a veteran of one mission trip to the DR.  We're rooming together and spend more time getting to know more about each other as we talk later.  We have some things in common in our lives despite our age differences. 

I speak on the phone with a friend who has looked up the geology of Hispaniola (the island which is home to the Dominican Republic and Haiti) to understand why the island is as it is, why the earthquake happened, and what it looks like.  It helps me appreciate it in a whole new way and through yet someone else's eyes.  All in all, a very good evening.  

Josan, Savannah, Laurie, Michael, Joan and Fred at Bonefish

Welcome to the blog of our Exploratory Trip to the Dominican Republic, February 13 - 21, 2012.  Thanks to the folks from the SE Convocation of our diocese for these pictures from their journey to the DR (specifically El Carreton) last month.  We'll soon have some of our own posted.

There are eight of us in this group: Tar+ and Julius from Valdosta, who have already arrived in the DR as of February 8th, Savannah from Jacksonville (who's really from GA!), Laurie from Savannah, and Michael, Fred, Josan and I, who are all from Statesboro.  Laurie, Josan and I are the 'newbies' in the group, having never been on a mission trip to the DR before.  Tar+, Julius and Fred have made many trips and done lots of good work down there, building a school and working on the diocesan camp.  They're quite familiar with the whole diocese and the people.  


Our trip will be based out of Santo Domingo, with day trips to various communities.  For those of us from Statesboro, our more immediate goal is to determine a good site for our youth to come to for their mission trip this summer.  A more long term vision is for parish mission trips in the future.  

I'm very much looking forward to this journey.  I've never been to the Carribbean, except vicariously through Fred's pictures from previous trips.  I know I have a lot to learn from the people and how they live and understand the world, and live out their faith.  It's a colorful world in many ways, and though they don't have the material things that most Americans seem to find so needful, from the stories I have heard already, Dominicans seem to take much more joy in life.  Hmmmm.    

 

This is a journey rooted in faith and I can't wait to see what God will show us, but there are always the practical things.  Again, lots of details and lots of things to happen between now and when we leave.  Still have to pack.  Gotta remember to get the passport out.  Get the cell phone activated for overseas.  Clean the cat box.  Pay bills ahead.  Not to mention a very busy weekend at church - benefit concert, parish meeting, and fundraising dinner/auction.  All the usual things.  It's always a blend of the practical and the mystical, the material and the spiritual, earth and heaven.  We always have one foot in both worlds.  It's a matter of keeping our eyes and hearts open to what God will have us see this day and this moment.  

My feet are itching to move and see something new in God's incredible world, meet some new people, taste some new foods, hear some wonderful stories.  Let the journey begin!