Hello,
It’s been a busy few weeks here so thank you to my most loyal of followers for checking in and reminding me to write!
Last time, I wrote about the tragic accident in my town and my students who died. Thank you to all who reached out and sent so much love my way. Your outpouring of love was unexpected and spectacular. As I've written some of you in emails over the past weeks: the aftermath included a busy few days dealing: reporting the accident, going over it with the team, learning how we can do and be better responders next time, reviewing mistakes made, amplifying our training curriculum, recruiting new first responders to supplement the team, etc. It has been helpful to debrief the accident methodically with the group, we have all come a long long way personally, professionally and emotionally.
Since the day of the accident, I’ve been thinking a lot about how different cultures treat death, dying and trauma. I'm learning a lot about how we grieve as Americans and especially how cautious and nervous we are around people who've had experiences like the one I had. This is not the case in the Dominican Republic where someone is bombarded with thousands of friends and family members collectively bringing someone out from their pit of despair immediately after a death and for nine days afterwards. I don't think there is a right way, but this week, it is what I would like to reflect on: the cultural differences I've found between the U.S. and DR regarding death and grieving.
In America: When someone dies, it is mostly a private event for the immediate family and the public respects their space until they announce a funeral or memorial. Then, people are invited, usually weeks or months later, to celebrate the life lived. So much of what Sheryl Sandberg has written publicly after the death of her husband, Dave, has also helped me digest what happened that night. She writes: “I have learned how ephemeral everything can feel—and maybe everything is. That whatever rug you are standing on can be pulled right out from under you with absolutely no warning. In the last thirty days, I have heard from too many women who lost a spouse and then had multiple rugs pulled out from under them. Some lack support networks and struggle alone as they face emotional distress and financial insecurity. It seems so wrong to me that we abandon these women and their families when they are in greatest need.” In America we lack a true support network for people who have lost loved ones. We have no public way of grieving and are expected to do so privately, silently and within our own family. We do not support people who have lost someone well because we don’t know how.
In the DR: A death here means a community event, a gathering of everyone in town, supporting the family for nine entire days after death. Once someone dies, they are placed in a casket and set in a room of the house with plastic chairs around them and family members weeping silently over the body. For the first day, people will come in and say a prayer for the body, greet everyone in the house, and make their way out back to spend time chatting and drinking coffee, eating and commiserating with each other. A back patio can be filled with as many as 100 people and close friends and family taking on roles to make sure coffee is flowing, food is prepared, flowers are selected and the body is kept cool (bodies are not embalmed, so someone has to buy bags of ice and put them in buckets under the body to keep it from smelling before the burial). As my friend Grayson commented after her town’s third funeral in one week: “Everyone just knows that their role is and what they need to do at a funeral. I go pick the flowers with Marieanela and we all know to leave Martiza alone while she cooks for everyone. Elcida is in charge of keeping the crowd well hydrated and Rafael always brings the truck to take the body to the cemetery. Pimpo and his brothers are the pallbearers and Olga opens the colmado. It’s a beautiful thing watching the community come together in such hard times.”
In America: People don’t know what to say to someone who’s relative or friend has died, which comes back to the support network part. As Sheryl Sandberg commented upon returning to work: “For me, starting the transition back to work has been a savior, a chance to feel useful and connected. But I quickly discovered that even those connections had changed. Many of my co-workers had a look of fear in their eyes as I approached. I knew why—they wanted to help but weren’t sure how. Should I mention it? Should I not mention it? If I mention it, what the hell do I say?” I have found that so many people shirk away from confronting this pain straight up. And although the death is probably the only thing on a person’s mind, we tend to ignore it, talk around it and shirk away from the awkwardness.
In the DR: In Spanish, there is no good translation for the word “awkward,” which is telling of so many interactions I’ve had at funerals here. Instead of avoiding a family with a death in the family, you support them head on, overwhelming and showering the family with love and comfort, speaking bluntly about the tragedy. With so many relatives, connections and close ties to the community, funerals are a very normal and regular part of life. People have learned to cope with death because they see it so very often. Before serving, I had been to maybe a handful of funerals. In the past two years, I’ve been to over thirty. At a certain point, death is desensitized. I don’t mean that there isn't a gaping hole in my heart or feeling of true loss every time someone close to me dies, but we know how to get through it. Dominicans understand the idea of permanence very well. They know the pain won’t last forever. And they are pervasive. Death does not have to affect every area of their lives - their ability to compartmentalize is remarkable.
I admire Dominicans and their processes of grieving. They have taught me that life and it’s wonderful, tragic, crazy emotions are temporary - no matter how deep the heartbreak, how tragic the loss, how horrible the accident and how reoccurring the images are - it becomes more manageable each day, until it is more than bearable, it’s teachable. We can teach others something from our loss, support a community of people who’ve experienced trauma, productively manage our energy, and keep growing. So that’s what I’ll continue to do, join me!
And now for some short updates:
1) We threw Gissaury’s birthday party on the 24th of June and it was a smashing success. Between all the soda, cake, popcorn, suckers, candies, cheese and crackers, swimming, dancing, photo-taking, goofing around and dressing up – we threw a birthday bash fit for a queen! Check out the pictures on my Facebook album here (and I’ll attach a few to the email, too!).
2) And, our paramedic group has been gaining publicity, our latest event included a live 30-minute interview on the provincial television channel’s news and health segment. To check out the highlight (in Spanish), click here.
3) And of course, fun was had by all 100+ volunteers who journeyed to the beautiful Samana peninsula for 4th of July celebrations. We stayed in a beautiful house with a pool; ate lobster on the beach; had our fill of beer, BBQ and country tunes; celebrated the commitment we made to serve our country; and the showed the pride we have for our homeland. I never feel more proud to be an American than I do when surrounded by wonderfully eccentric Peace Corps Volunteers who’ve dedicated two years of their lives to promote an understanding of our culture while simultaneously working to better their host communities in a foreign land. #proud
Until next time,
Bea
Pictures of the week:
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| INDEPENDENT WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR |
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| Patriotic crew of hooligans |
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| 4th of July with Grayson, Liv and Andy at our pool in Las Terrenas, Samana, we did well with out enthusiasm and outfits if I don't say so myself! |
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| Little Mermaid, Gissaury! Thanks for sending the wig, Momma, it was a huge hit! |
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| Bea with her baby girl Gissaury! Notice the shirt I'm wearing, matches the theme. |
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| Bea with so many children, who would have thought? |
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| Damn, the cake was good! |
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| Outfit change |
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| That precious wig! |
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| Behind the scenes! |
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| Famous! |
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| The crew after our interview! From left: Josué (intern), Juan (news anchos), Victor (team leader), Anny (first responder), me (jefa), Ronand (team leader), and Lauren (intern). |
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