Domestic violence is not an abnormal occurance, in the US or in the DR. It happens, it's bad, it's sad, but I honestly havn't ever thought a whole lot about it, that is, until this weekend. I was on my way to have dinner at a friends house in a really poor barrio, Kids Alive has a care center there in which I teach PE a few days a week. As I neared the house on my motorcycle, I saw some comotion in the street outside a Colmado (little grocery stores that also serve as hang out spots), this was right across from the house I was visiting. As I got closer, I realized some people were fighting, the closer I got, the more appalled I became. I realized that it was a man and a woman, both probably about my age. The fighting started to get intense and the guy began to punch this girl in the face. He got several good shots in on her, this was all happening as I was still on the motorcycle, getting nearer to the action. My adrenaline began to kick in, I was going to have to do something about this. I knew that me, the American, stepping in wasn't a great idea. I also knew that I was so angry at the moment that I was pretty sure that I couldn't just pull the guy away and then move on, I would have gone after him like he was going after this woman. Thankfully, someone else finally decided to intervene just as I was getting my bike stopped and began to get off, they were separated. I stood and stared, shocked, incensed at what I had just witnessed. The girls eye was fat and bruised, the guy was standing a little distance away, calming down. They eventually started talking and arguing a bit again, this time more calmly. I stayed around for a few minutes, to make sure nothing got out of hand. Things seemed ok, so I went inside the house I was visiting and tried to get myself calmed down. Everyone in the street and in the house that witnessed the fight seemed to not be worried about it, they just went on with their business. I sat down and played Dominos (the official Dominican pastime) with my friends.
That night when I got home I thought more about what had happened. I realized that this is why we are here, working in these communities. The kids have to learn that there is a different way to live. I have on several occasions scolded boys in my PE class for getting mad and hitting or throwing balls at the girls. These boys have such a look of anger that they carry themselves with, especially when they are upset about something, fists fly with no remorse fairly often. I often wandered why, and that night I figured it out. It's what they see on the street, in their houses, it's just life.
Whether in the sofisticated, advanced, wealthy US, or in the depressed, poverty stricken barrios of the Dominican Republic, if children grow up only knowing one way of living, they will live in the same way as adults. It is my responsibility, our responsibility to show that there is a different way, whichever neighborhood or city or country that we live in. I am here hoping to have an impact on the children in this culture, hoping to teach them a new way to live. God has priviledged me with this opportunity, may it be that I never lose sight of that goal. People need love, they need Christ.
This experience reminded me of why I am here, of the hope that a life lived in Christ can bring and why it is so important to teach the children this. To break the cycle that has continued for generations.
