A few years ago, I stopped making resolutions. I never actually followed through with them, and it seemed really silly to keep at something that I wasn't going to take seriously at all. We also stopped celebrating New Year's Eve more than just spending the night as a family and doing something special together.
Call me cynical, but the idea that only one day could signify the beginning seems... off. I mean, the earth goes around the sun in a circle, so the New Year could really be any day. January 1 seems arbitrary.
It's actually not as negative as it sounds. It's just that I was tired of pretending (to myself) that on January 1, I could start all of this new stuff and be a new and better person - solely because it was January 1.
I've spent the past few years making goals and renewing them throughout the year. Sometimes the making of those goals coincides with the New Year, but most of the time they don't. A lot of times the new goals match up with the beginning of the school year, or the start of a new semester.
In August, I spent a bunch of money on this really awesome new study Bible. I made a goal to read it every day. I haven't.
In December, I wrote out a long list of mini projects and household chores I needed to get done. I only made it through about half. The list is still hanging in my kitchen waiting for me to get things done.
I've felt like I'm lacking. I've felt like I haven't gotten things done and possibly have disappointed people who are waiting for me to produce and present. I didn't feel any joy about my tasks.
This past week, I've been really sick. Not the flu, but all of its nasty symptoms. I was literally knocked down and was out for four days. It was the first time in my adult life that I felt like the adult-thing to do was rest. To not think of my to-do lists, to not worry about that list of projects or the goals I had for the month.
I am still feeling congestion, my ears hurt, and I'm coughing like a smoker - but I feel rested. I feel refreshed, even. I feel like by leaving my lists and goals on hold for the past few days, I'm actually ready to tackle some of those tasks that have been waiting for me to get around to them for weeks.
Tomorrow can be a new year, a new start. Set goals, work on them throughout the year - but by no means only make goals at one point during the year.... and if things are overwhelming and weighing you down - take a break. I waited until an illness knocked me down, but I'll have to take my rest more seriously in the future. What's that saying, don't sweat the small stuff? Yeah. That.
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Friday, February 1, 2019
Cabrera, Northwestern Paradise - Dominican Republic
When I first got married, we spent a lot of time in Cabrera. Amalio's dad and sisters still live in the campo they grew up in, and despite the four hour trip in public transportation, it was a nice respite from the hustle and bustle of the city.
When we do make the trip, we always go to the beach and hop around the small ocean-front town. Playa Diamante is our favorite - it's a lagoon with no waves and waist high, crystalline waters. The sand is soft and the kids can play without fear of the waves. We also love Playa El Caleton - a fun beach with modern art sculptures representative of the local indigenous tribe (long extinct) adorning the coastal cliffs. The water is deeper than at Diamante, but the waves aren't strong and the beach is shady and relaxing. Our last go-to beach is La Entrada, a bit further out of town. A river meets the ocean and the beach goes on for days. People swim in the river and in the ocean. The food shacks along the beach have fresh fried fish and other delicious local food.
We now have cars, and the drive is easier than public transportation. But we also have three kids and, between us, I think four thousand jobs. It makes getting to the campo a little harder.
I do love the beach. LOVE the beach. So, the fact that Cabrera has some of the most beautiful - and kid friendly - beaches on the island, we often head up on our free days.
I do love the beach. LOVE the beach. So, the fact that Cabrera has some of the most beautiful - and kid friendly - beaches on the island, we often head up on our free days.
When we do make the trip, we always go to the beach and hop around the small ocean-front town. Playa Diamante is our favorite - it's a lagoon with no waves and waist high, crystalline waters. The sand is soft and the kids can play without fear of the waves. We also love Playa El Caleton - a fun beach with modern art sculptures representative of the local indigenous tribe (long extinct) adorning the coastal cliffs. The water is deeper than at Diamante, but the waves aren't strong and the beach is shady and relaxing. Our last go-to beach is La Entrada, a bit further out of town. A river meets the ocean and the beach goes on for days. People swim in the river and in the ocean. The food shacks along the beach have fresh fried fish and other delicious local food.
When we leave the beach, head into town and get ice cream from the local Bon Heladeria, and head to the malecon, a walk-way overlooking the cliffs of Cabrera, to eat our treats. We drive through town - sometimes visiting family and friends before heading back up the mountain to where we'll stay.
My sister in law has a cute garden where we pick cherry tomatoes and starfruit, and my father-in-law has a conuco - a piece of land used for cultivating root vegetables like yucca, sweet potatoes, and taro root. The kids can spend time running free and breathing fresh air, helping their grandpop with moving the cows and feeding chickens. They play with their cousins and eat fruit from the trees.
Labels:
campo,
life in the dominican republic,
transportation,
travel,
vacation
Thursday, January 3, 2019
Investment in the Future
When I was a kid, my grandmom played the lottery. A dollar here and a dollar there, some scratch off tickets that she let us scratch. I never learned all the ins and outs of the different ways to play the lottery, just that the line was often long in the deli because there was only one machine to process the numbers.
I also learned that it is really exciting to scratch the paint off the scratch off cards - carefully deciding which spaces to reveal first. Sometimes I'd scratch them fast and furious, but sometimes it was really hard to pick.
There is no control in a scratch off - there is no skill, no strategy that will actually help you win. It is a game of pure luck.
I've been scouring the internet ads looking for leads and today my husband, neighbor and I went to a car dealership to see some of the options. We didn't have any luck at all finding a car, but Amalio found a 100 peso coin* on the ground and decided it was lucky. So lucky, in fact, that he and Joel needed to play the lottery because of it.
There is a banca on seemingly every corner of every poor neighborhood and campo in the Dominican Republic. There is no need to wait in line in the deli anymore, the lottery has their own set up - little "houses" with permanent electricity and a computer to sell "the numbers." The banqueras - bankers - are usually young women, often attractive, and always poor. Their sole purpose is to get you to play your numbers, preferably in their banca each time you play.
I still haven't learned the ins and outs of the lottery system, but it seems similar to the numbers my grandmom played when I was a kid. There are straights and doubles and triples, scratch off cards, mega loto with a huge jack pot and more.
Undoubtedly, the major commonality is hope.
Every single time I scratched a ticket as a kid, I hoped that I'd win something - even just a dollar! And today, when the guys stopped at the banca to play a number on the coin they found, they hoped to get me more money for my future car.
Looking at all the bancas around me sometimes makes me sad: poor people pouring money into false hope. I've had people tell me that you have to invest in the future, and that playing the lottery is a type of investment. I usually want to roll my eyes. I want to scream that education and training and healthy meals and exercise are investments in the future, not a game of luck. But, I get it.
When there is little opportunity for investment in your future, you invest in the ways that are possible. You buy into the idea, the hope that you'll make it big and that your little investment will turn into something big. 20 pesos here, 20 pesos there. It's not much different than the dollars my grandmom spent on the state lotto.
There are so many things to be hopeful for. But, it's never as easy as scratching off a box on a piece of paper - and it's never as easy as a simple financial investment of 20 pesos here or a dollar over there. Maybe I've become more optimistic in my years here, but I do believe there is a light at the end of every tunnel, but we won't get there if we don't work towards it. Sure, it'll cost some pesos or some dollars, but it'll also cost hard work and determination and faith.
How are you investing in your future?
I also learned that it is really exciting to scratch the paint off the scratch off cards - carefully deciding which spaces to reveal first. Sometimes I'd scratch them fast and furious, but sometimes it was really hard to pick.
There is no control in a scratch off - there is no skill, no strategy that will actually help you win. It is a game of pure luck.
I've been scouring the internet ads looking for leads and today my husband, neighbor and I went to a car dealership to see some of the options. We didn't have any luck at all finding a car, but Amalio found a 100 peso coin* on the ground and decided it was lucky. So lucky, in fact, that he and Joel needed to play the lottery because of it.
There is a banca on seemingly every corner of every poor neighborhood and campo in the Dominican Republic. There is no need to wait in line in the deli anymore, the lottery has their own set up - little "houses" with permanent electricity and a computer to sell "the numbers." The banqueras - bankers - are usually young women, often attractive, and always poor. Their sole purpose is to get you to play your numbers, preferably in their banca each time you play.
I still haven't learned the ins and outs of the lottery system, but it seems similar to the numbers my grandmom played when I was a kid. There are straights and doubles and triples, scratch off cards, mega loto with a huge jack pot and more.
Undoubtedly, the major commonality is hope.
Every single time I scratched a ticket as a kid, I hoped that I'd win something - even just a dollar! And today, when the guys stopped at the banca to play a number on the coin they found, they hoped to get me more money for my future car.
Looking at all the bancas around me sometimes makes me sad: poor people pouring money into false hope. I've had people tell me that you have to invest in the future, and that playing the lottery is a type of investment. I usually want to roll my eyes. I want to scream that education and training and healthy meals and exercise are investments in the future, not a game of luck. But, I get it.
When there is little opportunity for investment in your future, you invest in the ways that are possible. You buy into the idea, the hope that you'll make it big and that your little investment will turn into something big. 20 pesos here, 20 pesos there. It's not much different than the dollars my grandmom spent on the state lotto.
There are so many things to be hopeful for. But, it's never as easy as scratching off a box on a piece of paper - and it's never as easy as a simple financial investment of 20 pesos here or a dollar over there. Maybe I've become more optimistic in my years here, but I do believe there is a light at the end of every tunnel, but we won't get there if we don't work towards it. Sure, it'll cost some pesos or some dollars, but it'll also cost hard work and determination and faith.
How are you investing in your future?
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