Pot of Gold

My friend started throwing dollar bills to the people of the Dominican Republic. He saw they were in need. We were doing an excursion where we drove a dune buggy to different parts of the land. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I saw my black brothers and sisters running toward us. Even a mother was running toward us while carrying her child. We quickly ran out of dollar bills to give out. There were way too many people than we could help. The way the Dominicans flocked toward us was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. At one point I saw a dark-skinned boy wave at me. We locked our eyes and I saw myself. These people saw hope. They were trying to follow the rainbow, desperately searching for the pot of gold.

I was born in Les Cayes, Haiti. I then lived in Port Au Prince, Haiti shortly thereafter. Seeing poverty was nothing new to me as I come from a similar walk of life. DR is right next door to Haiti. Both countries share one land and have a border that separates them. With this being said, DR felt at home to me. The culture, climate, and food all reminded me of where I was from.

I stayed at an all-inclusive resort in DR. So I was away from the struggles that many people here face day-to-day. The entire resort staff was Dominican, which was nice to see. Perhaps they had more sufficient jobs than many others in the nation. I spoke to a woman here who worked at a café. I told her about my experience in the countryside and explained the poverty I saw there. She felt empathy just like I did. We even bonded over the fact that we were from neighboring countries. I called her my sister by the end of our conversation.

Moreover, I met a couple of Haitians in DR. They were living and working there. Some were even born there. This made me really feel at home. One of the guys gave me a hug at one point. I later told him we must do something about the poverty in the streets.