First and foremost, ugly hearts has a bad connotation to it. More on that later, read on.
I was blessed to spend the past week in the Dominican Republic on a service trip. So, as I sit under my newly hung Dominican flag, I am hesitant to write about my experience. Words can only do so much, and even with the infinite combination of words possible, they still wouldn’t represent just how I feel. So, I will try to articulate what this week meant to me in the best way possible. For the past week I lived and worked in a campo and planted cacao and laid cement floors. My favorite project with the cacao was our first adventure with an hour long hike up a mountain where we got to take in the sights of everything around us, and then plant cacao on the side of the mountain–while also trying to avoid the ants who bit and pico (similar to poison ivy). My favorite project with cement, as well as my favorite overall, was with a man who had spent his life savings to buy his mother, who was a breast cancer survivor, a house, and we got to help by laying the floor down. This man was so passionate, dedicated, and by far the hardest working person we met. I am proud to say that I had a part in his dream to give his mother a house. Our days were pretty much scheduled the same everyday: breakfast at 8, our first project after, lunch at 12, our next project, dinner at 6, time to hang out, and typically in bed by 9:30. With the time given in between our projects, we got to bond with the individuals living in the campo. And, lucky for us, this campo was full of kiddos! We all really bonded with the kids a lot, and played volleyball, baseball, soccer, made bracelets out of flowers, taught them the cup song (and made a Spanish song for them to remember it, I might add), showed them how to make those old school paper fortune tellers, taught them boom, snap, clap, played a ton of dominos and Uno, and just connected with them in general. Rosmeiry was my closest bud the whole trip, an extremely intelligent 12-year-old, who was consistently patient with me as I tried to articulate (usually poorly) something to her in Spanish. She helped me out a lot, and made the language barrier not so much of a barrier. Although, sidenote, the best incorrect translation, that I knew I was making as I said it, but couldn’t think of another way to say it was when I was at her house and tried to tell her, “In five minutes, I have to go see if Rafiel (my host dad) is sleeping and if I needed to go home.” What she heard was, “In five minutes, I need to go home and watch Rafiel sleep.” I knew what I said as soon as I said it, but she thought it was hilarious, and then proceeded to make fun of me. With reason. Then there was Andelyn, a darling little six-year-old, who knew it. She was a little princess diva who could get anything from anyone because she was so damn cute, and used it to her advantage. Rossely, Yayista, and Rosa Ella were eight and nine-year-olds who often accompanied us on our projects to hang out with us. They also showed me a super cool new way to play rock, paper, scissors. These girls always put us in the best mood, and brought so much laughter to our group.Then there was Andi, a little boy with the prettiest eyes, and a big heart. Israel was a little boy who would spontaneously speak in English phrases like, “What’s your name?! My name is!” Bali was a 14-year-old boy who accompanied us on some of our projects and gave us a hard time (typical teenage boy stuff), but was so funny, and was always willing to play and help out. Victor was a 17-year-old boy who continuously amazed me. He accompanied us on every single project we did. (Mainly to make sure we were doing the correct things.) Victor surpasses me in basically all aspects of life. He beat me in chess in three moves…twice, he kicked ass in pool, he made a baseball bat by cutting off a tree limb with a machete and then carving it down, he was intelligent, and extremely hardworking. Like I said, continually amazed. Then there was Albierdo who’s nickname was Sorrocco… Sorrocco was a four-year-old boy, who we then nicknamed Obama because he looked like a young Obama. Sorrocco was…how shall I put this gently? Sorrocco was a little shit. I mean, he’s a four-year-old boy, so I guess it’s to be expected? But he was a little menace, but at times could be cute and fun. There was more kiddos running around, but those were the kids that we had the most time with. The kids were what impacted me the most on this trip. I loved Rafiel and Gloria, who were my host parents, and all the other parents, but it was the children stole my heart. My favorite words in Spanish are “Los Feliz.” Los Feliz translated means “The Happy Ones.” We don’t have a word like that in the English language, I mean, we have “the happy ones” but not something that just means that. I saw the idea of Los Feliz in every member of the campo, especially the kids. Every single day I saw it, and with every connection with every person I felt it. I saw and felt their love, their happiness, and their pure joy, and this way of life, just being genuinely happy, is the best thing to witness. My heart was so full of happiness after every instance with anyone in the campo. Friday, was by far the hardest part of the trip. It was our last morning at the campo. I woke up early (thank you, roosters), and went over to Rosmeiry’s house before she went to school. I had thought we were leaving at 1:45, and told her that, which was exciting, so we could talk again before I left. Turns out, we were leaving at nine. So, I went to her house and told her “Me voy a las nueve.” And she repeatedly asked me, “Nueve? Tu vas?” And I repeatedly told her, “Si.” But, I think she just thought I was saying the wrong thing again (can’t blame her), so she held up nine fingers. When I said yes again, she got quiet and looked away, which was the first heartbreak of the day. We hugged, and said our goodbyes, and promised we would stay in touch via snail mail. We then said goodbye to our host families, and Rafiel and Gloria said we could come visit them whenever we wanted. (I will be taking them up on that offer.) Then, after breakfast, Adita, our comporadora who was in charge of everything that connected the campo to ILAC, gave us a speech about how we would always have family in the Dominican, and to come back and visit, and how she would always think of us. I only shed a couple tears. Then it was time to say goodbye to the kids. I was determined to be strong…and cry on the way to the bus. However, then I looked over, and Yayista was crying, and I lost it. So, then I hugged every kid there, trying to speak through my tears. Once I was done with saying goodbye to the kids, I said goodbye and thanked Adita, and a woman came up to me and asked if I was Molly. I told her yes, and she told me that she needed to give me a hug and a kiss for her daughter because she was at school. It was Rosmeiry’s mom. The tears just kept coming. Who knew that I would cry approximately five more times that day… The next part of Friday was extremely hard as well, and we went to an orphanage in Santiago. The children at this orphanage have part of my heart as well. I didn’t realize the conditions we were going to walk into, but anything I could have expected was nothing like the reality. The orphanage was by far the hardest thing we, as a group, had to go through. Every single child had a mental disability, and a great majority of them were bed ridden because of developmental deformities which caused their legs and other parts of their bodies to not form correctly. As soon as we walked in, a little boy named Royo jumped into my arms, and we walked around the orphanage and he pointed to me where he wanted to go. After walking around the lower half, he pointed for me to go to the front and up the stairs, which I later found out we were not supposed to go to. The upper part had children who were a potential risk for danger, and they wanted to keep us safe. But, everyone needed a little loving. I was led around by a boy, with Royo on my back, with another boy under my arm always wanting a hug. We made our way around and said hello to every person. While they didn’t respond, they understood and smiled, or just smiled because they were getting attention. When Royo and I went back downstairs, one of the boys grabbed my hand and gave me two kisses. Whatta stud. Royo ran ahead of me and then found another member of the group, so I made my way around and said hello to every single person in the orphanage, and in one room, a little girl named Mariella was just waking up, and she saw me, stood up, and had her arms stretched. She was my buddy for the rest of the time at the orphanage. It was such a shocking thing to see. The conditions they were all living in, the severity of their disabilities, and the sheer number of children at once to absorb. The orphanage was the hardest thing I have ever witnessed, and I was filled with helplessness, because I could do nothing for them. The children will forever be in my hearts and my thoughts. The experience at the orphanage cannot be easily explained. Frankly, it can’t be explained at all. It is something that you have to experience. Until you do, you will not understand what we saw, and it will not resonate with you as it has and will for us. Every night of the trip, we partook in reflection about the day. I may be biased because it was my turn to lead, but my value to reflect on is my personal favorite. It was Contemplation in Action. This is my favorite, because for me, it covers everything. You go on trips like this and it really, really makes you think. But, your experience can’t stop at thinking, we must act! Act in a way that reflects the way that your mind and heart have been changed. With this Jessica, my partner with reflection, introduced a song named God of Justice by Tim Hughes. It’s a song about taking action and making things happen. My favorite lyric is, “Keep us from just singing, move us into action. We must go.” It is an important message to realize if you want something done, you have to make it happen. For me, I had a song lyric that resonated with me over the course of the trip by Sidewalk Prophets. “Be strong in the Lord, never give up hope. You’re gonna do great things, I already know. God’s got His hand on you, so don’t live life in fear. Forgive and forget, but don’t forget why you’re here.” With this trip, every moment was humbling. I don’t believe we came here to plant cacao plants and lay cement. Sure, that’s what we did, but could they have done that without us? Yes. Could that have done a better job more efficiently? A resounding yes. I believe our purpose was instead to go and have our hearts and minds changed by these simply amazing, beautiful, wonderful people. You need to physically be there to have any idea. I know I say this a lot, but it is true, I could never accurately put into words how I felt with the people at the campo or what I saw at the orphanage. It’s something that needs to be experienced. I think a changed perspective and an ugly heart was our purpose of going. People go on these trips thinking, “YES! I am setting out to do so much good and to change the world!” Well, that’s not exactly what happens. We did do good, yes, but I do not believe we changed the world. And I shouldn’t, because I didn’t. Instead, I helped change someone’sworld. Someone now has a solid foundation for their house because we helped. Every child and person I met in the campo changed my world; and I hope in some way, I changed their’s as well. We didn’t change the world, but it gives us a good foundation to do so. It gives us a changed perspective and the realization of the need for a call to action. Which, is something else people, myself included, need to become aware of: you don’t have to travel across the world to make a difference. You don’t have to go on a service trip to take action. You can help people in your own backyard and ignite a spark in them and others to pay it forward, to help people, to make a difference, to make a positive impact. Mother Teresa said, “Calcuttas are everywhere if only we have eyes to see. Find your Calcutta.” I loved every aspect of my experience. Even the parts that were hard to love, because they opened my eyes more to the changes that need to happen. Listen to Momma T, and take action. Find your Calcutta. Ignite your spark. Help make a difference. The goal: an ugly heart. It sounds weird. It actually sounds bad. I say an ugly heart because there is a story that says you want an ugly heart because it means you have lived. Truly lived.You’ve loved and lost, you’ve given pieces of your heart to people and places, you have had your heart broken to be put back together, sometimes not fully, with the help of God, family, friends, and yourself. The goal is to have an ugly heart. It symbolizes a life lived. This trip definitely helped me along the way to achieving an ugly heart. Part of my heart will always be in the Dominican, they will be in my thoughts often, and I fully intend on returning in the future, and going back and seeing the amazing people I met in the campo. I love the Dominican and everyone who helped shape my mind as well as every little bit of my ugly heart. “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed individuals can change the world. In fact, it’s the only thing that ever has.” - Margaret Mead
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I am currently sitting outside on a parking garage roof watching the sunset. So typical blogger, huh? Last night was our initiation retreat and I need some time to clear my head from all the thoughts that are going crazy. I’m going to try my best at least. That is something that I struggle with. Articulating my words to express my feelings. Words can only do so much. So, let’s try and see where it takes me.
My heart is currently so full of happiness/sadness/excitement/pride/so many other things. I am so proud of our Pearls who are now active members! I am so proud of the sophomores who have really stepped up and been role models for the Pearls. Overall, I am so joyful because initiation just serves as a beautiful reminder as to why I joined this amazing organization in the first place. There is so much love, compassion, dedication, support, and pure joy. It’s incredible. I am filled with appreciation that I was even given the chance to be a part of something bigger than myself with amazing women who constantly push me to be a better version of myself. I am thankful for every single woman who I call my sister. A quote that really stands out to me in our ritual, and is my favorite, and was also pointed out to me by my best friend (shoutout, Tina) is, “The glory of this life is to love.” I see that constantly lived out with these women. There are things that people talked about last night that I want to remind myself to remember: be patient, be present, be confident, be bold, be willing to change, and don’t take a second of it for granted. I think one of the hardest things when joining a sorority is the patience. You get in and see all the upperclassmen so close, and you feel (at least in my experience), that your own class is already close–just not with you. The thing is, every new member feels that way, and something to remember about the upperclassmen is we’ve had had two or three years to get close. It wasn’t instantaneous. Things worth having take time. Just think of Jimmy Eat World’s song, “It just takes some time, little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride.” Except for the Pearlies, you are just in the beginning! How exciting is that?! But, they are right, because everything, everything will be alright. That is something that everyone needs to remember. Friendships are formed, they rarely just happen, and it takes time. Next, be bold and confident. Part of being bold is going up to a sister that you don’t know, but want to, and telling them that. That’s how I got one of my closest friends. I know it happened the way it did for a reason, but I didn’t say anything until a month before she graduated, and I wish I hadn’t of waited! No matter, my point is, you should tell people. Something good could, and probably will, come of it. Also, with self confidence, they touch on it a lot in the ritual, which I really listened to this year, that is when it didn’t sound like little children screaming outside. Be confident, yo sistas gotcho back! Something that everyone needs to expect and accept willingly is the fact that ASA will change you. It will help you become the person you want to be, and you have your sisters supporting you the whole time. Be changed by it. It will only make you better. The last thing is something that I have talked about before. Be present! These four years fly by faster than you think, and it’s not until it’s almost over until you realize how fast it really does go. So, when you’re in it, be in it. No matter what you’re doing, be present. Enjoy the time with your sisters, because it’s times with these girls that will provide some of the best memories. Don’t take a single second of this amazing organization for granted. Enjoy every little bit of the ride. Always, Molly |
AuthorJust a twenty-something attempting to create the illusion that I have a clue what's going on... Archives
May 2017
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