Learning to Laugh

The Dominican Republic has taught me to laugh.

Let's face it, I'm weird. I look weird, I talk funny and I all around stick out. Reddish-blonde curls, red cheeks the second I step outside in the sweltering heat, this hint of gringa accent and my lack of hip-hugging rhinestone studded Gucci knock-off jeans...you can tell I'm different.

But one thing I do damn well is laugh and this is my common denominator.

Working abroad in a culture that points with its lips and is extremely offended if you walk between two people having a conversation, I sometimes find myself having more "American days" than I'd like. I am slow to recognize the social cues being played out (or I recognize them fine, know what I should do, and am just reluctant to comply). But there is always laughter.

As I consider being able to prep, execute and land a joke in foreign language to be a relative measure of your proficiency in that language (and sometimes I am just NOT) I am thankful that most of my Dominican friends have humorous leanings. They do the difficult work of joking and I get to simply laugh along. I cannot tell you the friends I have made or the relationships I have reinforced with a good chuckle.

While before I lived abroad, I believe many would have said I was a funny person – the Dominican has taught me to open up and find the funny in near everything. Life here can be difficult. There is a common phrase used as a response to the questions "how are you?" cogiendo lucha – losely translated grabbing a fight. It has the sense of "struggling" or "pushing on" and I feel is indicative of the daily fight necessary to survive for many people here in the DR.

After being in the States for the holidays, I am amazed by how easy everything is. I'll often tell my friends that the weirdest part of being home is that "things just happen" – meaning that life seems to be ordered and running on its own. It seems as if life in the DR is powered by the visible sweat, blood and tears of so many, whereas life in the U.S. is shiny and automated.

I have learned to laugh during 30 hour power outages, through the seemingly constant struggle to be treated and charged fairly when dealing moto-taxis to street vendors and through blaring merengue music on long bus rides when all I want to do is sleep and the lady behind me and another 3 rows up are both singing along, NOT in harmony.

Laughter and a gentle touch on the shoulder has smoothed out more informal business deals, opened up more client's homes and hearts to share their stories with myself and groups I lead

So I carry my smile and my laugh with me wherever I go, for no matter how near or far I travel on this Earth, these are things that need no translation, open many doors and make me quite a number of friends.