Pretend Time

Dominicans don’t function on real time. It’s fine for the most part, as long as you start factoring 30 minutes-2 hours into whatever you plan on doing.  Really, you should just plan on not having a plan altogether.
 
For example, we needed a few more things for dinner one night, so Matt and Rachel went out with Noky, our contact, to buy them in town.  It should have only taken 10-15 minutes; but instead of going straight to the store, Noky took them to his house, where they all chilled on the couch and drank tea and talked with his family and read books to his nephew and generally had no idea what was going on for 45 minutes.  Then they went to the store, which, as expected, took 10-15 minutes.
 


I once dedicated an entire day to laundry.  Rachel and I hauled the team’s dirty ropas over to Noky’s to use their washer and dryer, only to find out that their electricity wouldn’t be coming on for another hour.  So, as is their custom, we camped out on their porch, drank coffee, and talked to the family.  The power still wasn’t on 2 (or so) hours later, so Noky’s 5-year-old nephew, Daivid, suggested we take their washer to the church, since we had power there.  No big deal.  We just had the Mosaic men come on over and carry the washer down the street, through the “town square”, and into the church.  Where there was no power.  So we washed our clothes by hand.  Inside the washer.  Nice.


 


Pretend Time allowed us to spend about 6 hours (instead of the expected 2-3) in a desolate mountain town with no church presence.  Noky’s initial desire was that we all walk up there (I wore flip flops – who knew it was a hike rather than a casual stroll?) and pray over the town and its abandoned church building.  Since Noky knows everyone on the face of the Dominican Republic, however, we ended up stopping by several homes and, of course, sitting down and eating/drinking rice/beans/coffee/juice.  Three of us met a guy who allowed us to pray for him and his family.  (We ended up running into him 2 more times that day.)  We met another woman named Madera, who had an injured foot and lived alone most of the time.  In spite of her poverty and limited mobility, she offered us bowls of hot arroz y habichuelas and expressed her thankfulness for how God had blessed her.  We prayed for her foot and left, humbled.


 
I’m actually a huge fan of Pretend Time.  The American way of rushing from one thing to another, always pressed for time and focusing on what’s ahead, is exhausting.  It minimizes the present, adding pressure to you or the people you’re with to wrap it up as soon as possible so they won’t keep you from anything important.  It’s different here.  Relationships, the present, the situation at hand – those are given priority over the next thing.  Enjoy where you are.  It’s okay.  Be thankful for this moment.  Don’t worry about the next one before it’s time.


 
That’s something else I’ve noticed.  All the believers here are so thankful.  Their prayers are full of fervent praise and thanksgiving for everything God has done for them.  Those with injuries and barely a bowl of rice and beans to their name live and breathe a spirit of thanksgiving, a spirit of worship, the Spirit of God.  God gave them a life to live, and they don’t take it for granted.