A Cold Shower
Sunday, March 23, 2003
San Pedro de Macorís
Dominican Republic
Karen Smith

My day of comparison starts very early this morning. I am sleeping very well, the breeze is blowing, and I am comfortable. I must be dreaming of home and the dreams are enhanced by familiar sounds. I hear the chickens in the yard reminding me of the free-range chickens we used to have in our yard. At home we live across the river from the volunteer fire department. A familiar sound of a siren blares at about 6am. I feel so at home. Slowly, I get out of bed and walk to the bathroom to take a warm shower, as I do every morning. Turning the knobs of the shower, I am blasted with the reality of cold water…the reality of this place.

I attend church with the other students this morning at 9am. It is like any other church to most observers. Friendly faces greet me as I walk in the door of the church and am lead to my seat. The people of the congregation try to make me feel at home, but as the service starts again I get my cold shower. I am here, but I am on the outside looking in. It is a very hard reality to be the outsider, not knowing the language, customs, people, and places. I smile, comply, and go through the motions of church. I observe the purple colors of the Lent season, and wonder if my mother and father are looking at the same color thousands of miles away, sitting on a church pew, going through the motions of church.

This experience is the constant comparison of what I know about life verses what I need to learn from life. Just when you think you have it all figured out the reality of life gives you a cold shower.