A final walk in Santo Domingo

A blog post by Adam. Four weeks goes by quickly. This is how long we spent in Santo Domingo.

I reflected on our time in Santo Domingo as I took a final walk in my favorite part of the city - Parque Mirador del Sur.  Each morning and afternoon the main thoroughfare though the five kilometer park is closed and it becomes a biking, walking, jogging and skating paradise. It's like Green Lake without a lake, wider walking paths, no cars within sight or sound, large flowering trees, and 90 degree/90% humidity weather. It is a unique oasis from hectic, noisy, and polluted Santo Domingo.

Bikers riding past a flamboyan tree in Parque Mirador.

The "Free Gym" inside the park.

Yet, as I strolled through the park our final morning in the capital, I couldn't help but acknowledge that Santo Domingo is so much more than first impressions. Like Israel, I've been touched by the people we've met here.  Our host family has been amazing. They've taught us so much about Dominican culture and cooking, and completely welcomed us into their family. Melissa's teachers and the staff at Entrena have all been equally welcoming and fun loving. 

In addition to the way we've been treated, a common bond among most of the people we've met here is that they come from somewhere else. It is, in a sense, a city of immigrants.  Some are from other parts of the Dominican Republic and others are from Haiti. The capital is more than just the seat of government or a historic center. It also represents hope for a better future for millions of Dominicans and Haitians. 

Santo Domingo, with its wealth, is the chance for a better life for so many. Our host parents are the perfect example. They were born in the poor countryside, moved to the capital, and now have two grown children who are highly successful professionals in law and banking.  Things can get better here.

Still, the poverty, the crime, and the lack of access to health care are all staggering in the DR.  I've written about the high unemployment and the challenges facing Dominicans of Haitian descent.  Compared to Israel, things here often feel far more hopeless. The problems are just that much greater. And yet, people have so much hope that things will get better. That if they work hard their lives will improve. That if they keep pushing, justice will prevail.

I saw this when I attended a recent protest of undocumented Haitian Dominicans in the capital. The mostly young adults who led the protest were full of life and hope that things would change, that the Dominican government would do the right thing and they would get documents. The hope was intoxicating. Interestingly, in private conversations with the few Americans at the protest, we heard a different story. They were completely pessimistic that things would ever change.

Dominicans of Haitian descent protest outside the National Congress.

Police stand guard at the peaceful protest.

And so as I took my final steps in Parque Mirador, and looked up at the beautiful flamboyan trees overhead, I thought to myself, am I on the side of hope or despair? My Jewish American background usually leads towards despair, but looking around at everyone exercising in such a wonderful park, I think that for today, at least, I will side with the Dominican Santo Domingo. I will choose hope.