Before the Light

Thursday, February 13th

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Some context:

About a year ago, I was taking a class at Miami on grant and proposal writing. Over the course of the semester I would be writing a grant for nonprofit and I reached out to a good family friend, Betsy Long, because I knew she had helped found an organization called ondawave (purposely not capitalized) a few years prior. I communicated with Betsy throughout the semester to learn more about the organization and what they do. Ondawave partners with the village of Angostura–a rural community in the Dominican Republic–to help improve their sustainability. I quickly learned that I did not like grant writing; the process is quite monotonous and meticulous. But one very important aspect of a grant proposal is making sure the foundation you’re requesting money from understands the story of the nonprofit. I learned a lot about ondawave and did my best to capture their story and mission, and that I loved. I loved the story-telling. I loved that I could share the meaning and the passion these people have for what they do. I loved that I was learning so much about another part of the world and a culture different from my own. By listening to Betsy’s stories, I became painfully aware of how unaware I was. I had recently returned from spending a month in Italy and that experience was incredible and I had learned and seen so much, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to see more and learn more and experience more; there is so much happening outside of Miami University and outside of Ohio and outside of the U.S. So, when I was given the opportunity to go to the Dominican Republic on the next ondawave trip, I was thrilled. I would be traveling to the village of Angostura with the team to document the trip and capture their story.

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I’ve always thought of myself as an early riser; I’m a morning person, the kind that naturally wakes up before my alarm goes off. But starting the day at 3:30 a.m. isn’t something my body knows how to respond to. I was awake immediately and fully functional. I could go to bed at midnight and wake up at 9:00 a.m. as a lazy mess, groaning and rolling over, convinced that the last nine hours did nothing for my mental or physical state, but here I was at 3:30 a.m. wide awake.

Outside it was cold, dark, and silent. With no cars on the road I think my body realized I had only slept for three and a half hours. The first plane ride was dark and turbulent. I tried to sleep, but with all the shaking it was hard to get comfortable. Betsy and I arrived at the Newark airport at 8:30 a.m. We grabbed over-priced food from one of the airport restaurants and waited for Lindsay, another member of the ondawave team, to meet us at our gate. The crowd was large and loud. Everyone milled around either talking to each other or to someone on the phone. As soon as it was announced that our plane had arrived, all of the Dominicans immediately stood up to form a line in front of the gate.

Energy on the plane was high: babies cried, people laughed, and there was constant talking for the whole three-hour flight (plus 45 minutes spent sitting on the runway). All of the announcements were made in Spanish and I was pleasantly surprised with how much I understood–the airport vocabulary I learned in high school Spanish was really paying off. When the plane landed, everyone erupted in applause.

Balmy air drifted through the airport and I could physically feel my mood change. We waited in line to go through customs and I felt impatient; I was so ready to feel the sun on my skin and see the vibrant colors I had been missing in cold, gray Ohio.

Ian and Isabel picked us up from the airport. The two have been living in the Dominican Republic for the last month–the first of six they will spend here working closely with the people of Angostura. We began the drive to Luperón where we’d stay, about 45 minutes away from Angostura. At this time of year, the streets are decorated with purple, red, or blue posters and flags promoting different candidates for the upcoming election. Everyone gets very into it, embellishing their motorcycles with colored flags and wearing hats with their favorite candidate’s name.

We zipped through winding roads, swerving to pass by motorcycles and people walking. All I could do was stare out the window and try to take everything in. The wind whipped my hair around and I inhaled the sweet, warm air deeply. The sun was so strong I couldn’t keep my eyes open all the way–like I had emerged from a dark cave and my eyes still needed time to adjust to the brightness. Back in Ohio, before the light, I felt cold and cyclical. Now, I feel elated and at ease.

After less than 24 hours here, I already feel amazing. It’s hard to explain, but I felt a click. Being here, with the purpose of writing, learning about another culture, working with a group making a real, sustainable difference–I feel purposeful. I feel like I’m finally listening to this little voice inside me that for so long has been telling me to find this path. The same voice that called me to be an English major; the same voice that pushes my hand to the pen, and that pen to the paper.

More to come on my time in the Dominican Republic. For now, I’m taking in all this light.

Learn more about ondwave here: https://www.ondawave.org/