When I had been in Batey 7 for just a little
while I still didn’t know many people, and there were still many people who
didn’t know me. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that the majority of
people knew of me, but weren’t
actually acquainted with me. I spent many nights sitting on my porch either by
myself or with my friend Nelson. It was nice when Nelson was there because his
friends would come over and talk to us, and I was able to meet more people in a
less awkward way than me going up to a random house and saying, “Hey, I’m
Jessica and I live here right now…” Thus end my small-talking skills.
One night a few weeks after I first
moved here a couple of Nelson’s friends came to sit on the porch in the
semi-darkness. They chatted amongst themselves for a bit, when suddenly one of
the guys turned and directed a question to me.
“And you,” he said, “what is your
function here?” I smiled, or rather smirked, at his question, not because it
offended me, but rather because it was the first time someone had finally asked
the question to my face. I had overheard, or been told of, the people
speculating about me since before I had even arrived. I knew what they all were asking: What are you going to do while you’re here? How will your presence
benefit us?
“Don’t you want to know my name first?”
I asked him lightly. He told me he already knew my name. He didn’t.
This final post on Dominican culture is
not exactly about Dominican culture; in reality, it’s about a culture that has
been created in the past several decades through interactions with outside
sources, namely NGOs and aid ministries and organizations. When that young man
saw me, he saw a means of gaining something for his community. He didn’t see a
person, or at least not a specific person. I was interchangeable, and very
replaceable. And he wasn’t the only person to think like that.
Honestly, I don’t blame them for asking
that question. North Americans don’t exactly relocate to the bateyes for the
prime property and excellent school systems. When foreigners come into these
communities it’s usually because they want to help, or because they have some
kind of goal in mind to accomplish. And wasn’t that why I was here? To somehow
be a blessing to Batey 7? So what’s the problem?
I think the problem is with us. The
foreigners, the helpers. How can I blame the locals for judging me by what I
produce when that’s exactly how we judge ourselves? Think about the culture in
the United States; the “important” people are those who accomplish the most,
those who make the most money, and those who utilize their time in the most
efficient way to cross off lists and get stuff done. We celebrate financial success,
and we applaud hard work that produces results quickly. Are these bad things?
No, I don’t think so. But when we allow these values that we hold to turn
people into efficiency machines, then we begin to miss the most important parts
of life. We forget that people can enrich our lives simply by existing, simply
by being beside us.
These values shape how we think about
helping others as well. When coming into an area, we want to find out how to
use the resources (money, materials, manpower) we have to build the optimum
number of houses, or wells, or gardens. Then we get in there, do our thing, and
voila! A brand new well is ready for community use before you know it.
I know I have years to go before I have
the right to start spouting wisdom for the mission field, but from my
observations I think in many areas of the world the most important thing to
focus on is not alleviating the lack of material resources, but rather
developing the people and helping
them to reach their potential in Jesus Christ. Only then will these communities
be transformed.
If we switched our focus from the
project to the individual, maybe their focus would change as well. If we made
it a point to show the locals that we value them simply for being themselves,
maybe they would value us as more than walking ATMs.
I feel inclined at this point to make a
disclaimer that not every organization focuses on the project over the
individual, and not every local only expects money and progress from the
volunteers that come into their community. But the majority of my interactions
with people here involve high expectations for me to provide something physical
for the community, family, or individual. I’m sure when I leave Batey 7 there
will be many disappointed people over what little I accomplished, but hopefully
there will be a few people who feel better for having known me, just like I
feel better for having known them.
One day recently while I was playing
soccer with a group of girls one of them asked me, “Are you here to [distribute
the rice from your ministry] or are you here to play soccer?” I chuckled at the
two choices she gave me. You know what, though? Maybe she is spot on. Maybe all
I’m here to do is play soccer, and to be an encouragement to the girls on my
team. As followers of Christ, no job is too little or too big for us. I’m just
thankful for the time I get to share with them, and perhaps they will feel the
same.
What’s my function here? To be present
in every moment, and to always be open to the opportunities God gives me to
point people to him. That’s not exactly a satisfactory answer for many people,
but it’s good enough for me.
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