Lately, I have been considering the U.S. The Dominican Republic tries to be America. They have adopted (and perfected) their "national pass-time", they worship the American dollar and a large percentage of their population lives in "Nueva Jork". Yet, more and more Dominicans are choosing to stay at home. Santo Domingo has a lot to offer. As I write, tunnels are being dug underneath the major traffic arteries for more traffic and trains. Babies are being born, puppies are popping out of dogs and people are celebrating... nothing in particular, just celebrating. Maybe it is that the mangoes are already falling off the tree, well before they are big enough to eat. Maybe it is because the sun shines so long and so hot, that the endorphin high of an average person cannot be spent in an average life time. Maybe, they just like to dance. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying everything's perfect, just that I don't envy anyone living in Michigan or Arizona right now. This is a country pressing forward in every way, not receding, despite their emulation of those United States.
I watch another sunset over the roofs of Santo Domingo. The wind is pushing the clouds into shapes I have not seen before. The sun glances off of them for a couple of minutes, in shades of orange and pink and then recedes into the grays and blues. Birds dart past me, as I sit on my balcony, much too quickly for me to be able to understand what they are. The city is pulsing. Though the heart was once exposed, it is being encased in concrete. "We may be poor, but we aren't that poor, our houses are not made of wood". They are making something that will last; the houses have pillars.
Every morning I wake up at five minutes to six and put on some shorts so I can step outside to turn on the water (a ninety degree turn to the right of a red valve). I should reiterate that things are not perfect. Our fridge does not work properly. The once green cilantro is turning into brown mush, but the ice is still ice. I would not even go so far as to say that things are good enough. If North America, or even history in general, has taught us anything, it is that things are never good enough. They are not good enough here. But they are getting better. I realize that I can be happy, if I learn to be satisfied with "getting better".