A lady was killed around the corner from my office this morning. She was a waitress at a Mexican restaurant that I went to a few days ago for lunch, and her military ex-husband had an argument with her in the street then shot her three times – so I hear. Imagine waking up one day getting ready for work, eating breakfast, enjoying the cool morning, and then walking into a situation that will end your life in less than ten minutes. Poof. It’s over. Plans gone, future remaining imagined, the only thing left of you is what is kept in the memory of those who knew you – or in my case heard about you. Update: Here’s the story
They don’t deal with senseless death the same way here. I saw a Blackberry photo of her lying in the street, legs in the shadows, grainy upper body in the sun, a couple policemen milling around the taped area. Another Blackberry photo of the security guard who restrained the shooter, posing like a U.S. Marines commercial, and a story about one man’s father ‘heroically’ helping the security guard. It wasn’t even the talk of the office all day, forgotten amongst the opening of the Christmas season festivities and work duties. The Life in the Dominican Republic.
Let’s talk about los Estados Unidos today, I haven’t really done that in a while (admittedly I haven’t done much of anything here). I’ve mentioned having general feelings about going back, excited about seeing specific people, doing certain things – but not really about the reverse culture shock phenomenon I anticipate seeing first-hand. As I’ve talked about before, adjusting upon arrival stunted what could have been trepidation/fear/what-the-hell-is-going-on-ness, but what’s going to happen when I leave this place I’ve gotten adjusted to? I’ve brought a few notes, so follow along as I prognosticate.
Lay it on me: Continue reading