NC State University

by senior Veera Motashaw

I have been more than blessed the past 21 years of my life and the last seven days in Monte Cristi have truly allowed me to share my passion of showing unconditional love with others. The people here have been so hospitable and generous in opening their homes to us that I just I wish I had more time to stay and love everyone a little longer. I have learned more than I could read in any book or learn from any teacher, and more importantly, my ability to serve (versus help) has truly been honed through my connections to the people of the Dominican Republic.

Children as young as Jose Miguel, a 3rd grader at Laguna Verde, taught me about serving, persistence, and patience. Jose barely comprehended directions to our classroom activity, but he was still more than determined to complete his activity successfully. The first part of our activity had such an impact on me because after observing a few of the children struggling to open something so simple as a zip lock bag, it took a moment for me to reflect on just how many things we take for granted in the US. For our team, we thought, “Lets buy zip lock baggies, they will be the cheapest thing to bring to these children.” But the children had never seen something so magical! When they figured out they did not have to bite the bags open to use them, they opened and closed them with each paper they took out or put in the bags. It is just so amazing to think that these children are going to cherish these bags. They are really going to go home and hold on to this bag for as long as possible, because when is the next time that they will be able to have something so special?

Anyways, once Jose figured out how to take his papers out of his bag , he eagerly brought his papers to me calling “Americano, Americano! Como se escribe Leche (American, how do I spell milk?) After attempting to spell the letters out L - E- C, we definitely got stuck on H. I did not want to pick up the pencil and write it for Jose, so for about three minutes I described the letter H to him—saying it in different ways, writing it invisibly on the desk, describing words that start with H—but nothing seemed to work. First Jose wrote a J, then an E and after looking at me like I was crazy for a while it finally clicked. He finished the word put his ‘leche’ drawing in his zip lock baggie, gave me a high five with a huge smile and asked me how to spell Zanahoria (carrot). Despite our struggle with communication, he wanted to keep working with me. I felt so handicapped for the few moments that I could not communicate with him the way I wanted to, but he wouldn’t let me give up. He reminded me that everything comes with patience and persistence, and if you do something with passion you will never fail.

Some days throughout the week, my experiences were less academically oriented but just as enlightening in every respect. During recess on my third day, I made some of my most memorable connections with a few of the children, including two precious 4-year-old girls named Alina and Desa. Alina was standing outside a group of children playing jump rope when I noticed her sniffling and coughing a few times. I called her to come sit beside me and talk to me for a few moments. I asked her if she wanted to play, and she said no. So I asked her if she was sick, and as she shook her head no, she sneezed with the biggest snot rocket flying out of her nose. I quickly asked one of my team members for a Kleenex and grabbed it to clean her nose before she wiped it on her dress or got more dirty. While wiping her nose, I couldn’t figure out how to tell her to blow her nose, so I imitated while holding the tissue up to her nose and she immediately imitated me, cleaning out her nose. Once she was clean she sat with me until recess was over and we made conversation about all types of random things. Of course with my limited Spanish skills when I found out she had two sisters and I tried to ask if they were older, I accidentally asked if they were better than her. But when she looked at me very confused, I got someone to help me through the communication gap and everything was fine.

The second girl Desa was shyly hiding behind her mother’s leg as she refused to come play with us. After playing peek-a-boo with her hiding behind her mother, Desa slowly started to open up and she came to me as I called her to come sit on my lap. We sat for a while and played hand slaps followed by lots of giggles and hugs. Before long, whether she understood my Spanish or not, we had connected on a much deeper level. I attacked her hugs, kisses, and tickle fights and before I knew it, it was time to go and we said our goodbyes. Knowing that she was so receptive to my presence helped me to realize that with a little comfort, love is the same in every language. I have learned so much from the children here, and I hope that anytime I get down in life, I can just remember their unconditional happiness. To see them laughing and playing and being truly content is the most wonderful feeling. To know that they may not have three meals a day, but they have unconditional love of a close knit community is so satisfying. I feel that if we have everything, and have no one to share it with, then what is it really worth?

And thinking about how important love and support is, it reminds me of my most touching experience, that, ironically, had the least verbal communication but still seems to be the most powerful moment from my entire trip.

On Friday morning before our returned home, we took a trip to the Haitian border. At times, I was terrified running through the market. It hurt me so deeply to see so many people scrambling for food, whether to buy it, trade it or sell it for a little money to buy something better. Through the madness it was as if I was frozen in time for a moment when I caught the eye of a young Haitian girl who was no older than 12. She was off to the side of the road watching the crowds of people go past as if she were invisible to the world. No one stopped to talk to her, no one was with her, and it seemed as if not a soul even thought twice about her presence. As our eyes connected I smiled at her and said a solemn “Hola chica.” Her eyes began to glow and her face lit up with the most genuine, beautiful smile I had ever seen. She looked like a model ‘Photoshopped’ into a busy market scene. As I walked passed her I quietly said “que bonita chica”. Hearing this, her eyes filled with hope as if for the first time she truly believed that she was beautiful and would be able to accomplish anything in life. As we walked our separate ways, I began tearing up from feeling so connected to another human despite not even knowing her name. I never realized that just a smile and eye contact could impact someone so deeply. Seeing this girl made me want to be a better person, she made me want to cherish all of the opportunities I have—and to be the best I can be just because I have the chance to do so.

I hope that more people in the world will see that we should love everyone and everything—that everything has a purpose and a way of living, and everything deserves a chance to thrive and live on to greatness. I believe that my purpose of being there in the market was to give this Haitian girl an ounce of hope to help get her through some challenges in her life. I can only pray that she has the opportunities she deserves in this life.