It was 26 years ago in April 1990.
We had been living in the Dominican Republic for the school year and would be heading back to the USA in one more month. The time here had changed all of us in ways we could not yet imagine. Our horizons had been broadened, our hearts had been enlarged and our Spanish skills had been stretched more than we would have thought possible.
I know that it is easy to throw around the term “life-changing” particularly when talking about an intense cross-cultural experience so I don't want to use it lightly, but I’m convinced that it really was. We would go back to our lives in rural Michigan, but those lives would never be the same - because we would never be the same.
Culture stress had taken its toll on most of us but it had also awakened new compassion and empathy in us. It would forever change the way we would think and feel about people who were far from home because we now knew how that felt.
It had been a good year. Had flown by in some ways and dragged along in others. There were things that we sorely missed from home and so we were starting to get excited to get back there, but there was also a sense that this time was slipping away quickly so we wanted to grab the opportunities that might never again be available.
Our girls were great campers so their dad had brought along a small tent in his suitcase hoping we might be able to make use of it here. He had been asking around and sure enough, he learned about Playa* Rincon and that we might be able to camp there. Our good friend, Don Mercer, told us how beautiful it was and how to get there. So we rented a micro-van and set out across the country** for a couple days during Semana Santa*** to enjoy our break from school.
What an adventure we had that week. Playa Rincon was like another world. Another universe. Far from the noise of the city and the raucous “carnaval" parades. Far from our school responsibilities - and even from language stress. Well, except for that one really bizarre conversation in some strange mix of Creole with the woman in the house on the side of the mountain! In the dark!!! Most of all this place seemed so far removed from our world back in Michigan.
…
These memories came flooding back as we headed out to Playa Rincon yesterday. The road has now been paved but I kept remembering how rough it was back in 1990. About how I wondered whether we’d ever find this wonderful beach. And about what we would do if we didn’t. About whether it would actually work to camp on the beach. About where we would sleep if it didn’t.
I remember when the rocky road finally opened onto quite possibly the most glorious vista I had ever seen. Miles of white sand beach along a magnificent grove of coconut palms. That moment and those days and nights were definitely a high point of our time here. Priceless.
...
At that time we had absolutely no clue whether we would ever be back to Playa Rincon or even to this country. Sure enough, we have all been back in the country several times since then and we will probably always feel connected to this place.
Three years ago we made it back to Playa Rincon. At that time we were pleased to discover the road had been “developed” and that the beach had NOT been. Still absolutely gorgeous.
And now as we begin to wrap up another winter here, it seemed important to take one more trip to Playa Rincon. It was a chance to breathe in the view and the experience one more time.
To realize once again that we never know whether we will pass this way again.
To pause and remember and enjoy.
To think of all the ways our lives have changed - in large part because of that year.
To be thankful for the opportunities that have opened up for us since then.
Or maybe they haven’t opened up for us
Maybe we have searched until we have found them.
Maybe that is one of the ways we have been changed - that we don’t just sit around to see what happens, but we go searching for what could happen.
Or maybe it is that we have learned that we don’t need to let obstacles rule our decisions, but that we can often choose to find a way to deal with them.
At any rate, I am grateful. So incredible grateful. I am in awe.
...
* Playa = beach
** Country = "pais" or "campo" - either of which could be used in this case. "Pais" means this country, this nation; "campo" means out in the country. This trip involved both - driving across the country of the D.R. as well as driving for miles and miles through the campo.
*** Semana Santa = Holy Week, the week between Palm Sunday and Easter, a big deal in a Catholic country
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