Cold Showers, Mangoo, and a Ceiling Fan

So what’s it like living down here?

Well, looking out the window while landing in the plane you see beautiful palm trees swaying, the blue ocean shimmering and you think you’ve just arrived to paradise. However as soon as you step out of the airport and into the humidity, your hair may tell you otherwise as it begins to frizz. It’s hot. And I don’t mean regular hot because normally I love the heat. I mean it is so hot that you may cool off some by sticking your head inside an oven. It’s sticky and humid to the point where you need to take at least two showers a day because when night time hits and you’re scratching your skin from all the mosquito bites, you can see the dirt piling up underneath your nails. But even with the extreme heat, I love it here! Mi familia that I am living with has to be the best host family ever (although my new friend Greg would probably beg to differ).

The abuela who I call my “Mama” has to be the sweetest lady I’ve ever met. She no more than 5 foot tall and always welcomes me with hugs and kisses while pinching my cheeks and crying out “Que linda! Que linda!” (How cute!) She doesn’t speak a word of English but is extremely patient, kind, and loving to me despite my inability to understand what she is saying half the time.

There is mi hermana, DarJennie, who can sing her ass off! She is 14, skinny, and has a voice bigger than Christina Aguilera’s. I love her to death. It’s so easy to forget that she doesn’t speak English because she looks like a regular 14 year old American girl you would see in the States, Miley Cyrus fan and all. Then there’s the 2 year old boy, Hosea, and the 3 month baby boy, whose name I forget at the moment honestly.

My room is WAY better than I expected. It’s bigger than my dorm room at school so that should speak volumes. I have a full size bed, a vanity dresser, a full length mirror, and (thank the Lord) a ceiling fan. By the end of the first day my head was pounding so vigorously from trying to understand all this Spanish being thrown at me I thought it was going to explode. When the working mom came home and spoke in English I almost cried in relief.

The next day, all of the students in the study abroad program had to take a Spanish placement test to see what level our Spanish is on for the classes we will be taking this semester. There are three levels: Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. I was placed in Intermediate which isn’t so bad considering I haven’t taken a single Spanish class since high school.

After class, most of us bombard the computer lab to connect to our family and friends so they can know that we are alive and safe. I never saw the importance of social media until now (I always saw it as egotistical and narcissistic but that’s a different topic) but it really is an asset when out of the country and your phone company is trying to charge you an international fee of $3 per minute. There is another girl who is living in the same apartment complex as me named, Arcena, so we take a taxi that her host mom pre-paid for back to the house.

At my new house the family is very warm and receptive. Catering to me like I’m a hotel guest and they’re expecting tips, but I try not to make a fuss out of anything. Dinner was a traditional Dominican dish called Mangoo. Mangoo is mashed plantains with white cheese on top. The plantains tasted like mashed potatoes and the cheese was so thick I thought it was meat at first. It tasted alright. The water cuts off after around 8:30 ish so I took a shower (a COLD shower, no hot water fyi) and as soon as I hit the bed, I was knocked out! The sun wears you out down here so most people wake up early and go to bed early.

With so much stuff to take in I honestly have barely had time to do anything else but just that. Just sit back and figure out how everything operates down here and then after that I can spread my own wings and try to fly. But it’s only the beginning of my two months and so I have time to first observe from my branch on this beautiful, humid island.


Hasta lluego!

-The Girl with the Monkey Mind

So what do you think, could you live with a family in a different culture who don’t even speak your language? It’s honestly not as weird as I thought it would be, but I think a lot of us are too afraid to try. What do you think?