Next door in DR, they feel oceans apart

SANTO DOMINGO, Dominican Republic — I thought I’d lost my balance for a second. Talking with a friend and colleague in my study abroad program, I tried to disguise my fear by moving around a little.

But the nervous faces looking back at me showed it wasn’t my imagination. I saw the secretary hold onto the desk. It felt like we were on a ride, this earthquake.

“What is happening?” everyone seemed to ask at the same time. Then we realized it was an earthquake, but because it wasn’t serious, we giggled. “Are you alright?” we asked each other. We laughed after it stopped. Weren’t we supposed to hide under a doorframe?

The earthquake lasted 30 seconds on this side of the island and was not very strong, only 3.2 weak on a 10-point scale compared with the 7.2 forces a mere five hours away in Haiti. We didn’t talk about it much. There wasn’t much to talk about.

When I returned home, my host mother was frantic with fear. “The tsunami is coming,” she said, having heard that on the radio. We could see the sea two blocks away. My host mother said we would have to pack and evacuate.

To add to the confusion, our power had cut out, not because of the earthquake. Because of construction on a neighboring building.

We walked the streets, talking to neighbors and trying to suss out more news. I heard that Haiti was hit worse but didn’t know the details. After packing to escape the tsunami, we unpacked when we realized that the tsunami wasn’t coming.

We heard people in Haiti had to go to the hospital. Without power, we couldn’t watch it on TV. We had felt only the weaker waves that reached us after slamming Haiti.

After the electricity resumed, I sat down and scoured the internet about what had happened next door in Haiti.

After working in Haiti this summer with student groups and other organizations on community health, I knew the impact this earthquake would have on the progress Haiti is desperately trying to make. The Presidential Palace, which for so long has been a symbol of strength and hope for the Haitian people, is now destroyed.

There is a sense that a country, which has endured so much, is a victim once again.

Here in the Dominican Republic, infrastructure, education and opportunities are not much different from any other capital city. We have all the comforts of home: internet, phone, television.

When you go to Haiti, the first thing you notice is the lack of infrastructure and government. You don’t see police cars. People have to fend for themselves.

I get the sense that the story is being reported much more in the U.S. than what we see in the DR. People here say, “Oh, I heard in Haiti it was bad, but is it that bad?” as seen on U.S. television.

My friends and I feel privileged to be on this side of the island. Here in the Dominican Republic, life has continued uninterrupted. For me, the differences in the two countries have been magnified. I may be on the same island as Haiti, but the emotional distance from the suffering country makes me feel oceans away.

We also feel helpless that we are so close to a place that needs help. We want to go and help, but we’re on the fence. I want to make sure I am going to help people, not be another person that needs to be taken care of.

What Haiti lacks in money it compensates in human capital. During my stay this summer, I met the most dedicated students and citizens trying to improve their communities.

The patriotism that Haitians have and the desire to improve the country need only be matched by a functioning government and properly allocated international aid to see the country begin to develop.

Unfortunately, I do know people there, but I haven’t talked with anyone on the phone. I haven’t heard anything from anyone. 

This report comes from a journalist in our Student Correspondent Corps, a GlobalPost project training the next generation of foreign correspondents while they study abroad.