Caught between two very different worlds

(my little buddy Lovensly, before he busted his lip on the playground!)

I feel caught between two worlds. On one hand, I live part of the time in a nice hotel, in my boss' hotel room that he has year round and would currently be empty if not for my taking up residence in it. I can escape the heat when I need to, return to my clean, neat, air-conditioned room, and even take advantage of the gym or the pool. Delicious coffee is waiting for me in the morning, before I get in my car (another nice perk I currently have) and drive out to Cielo where another world awaits.

When I choose not to stay in the hotel, which is becoming more often, I stay in Bayona, the larger region where Cielo and Nazaret are located, in an apartment with my friend Anna. We sleep in the heat, with windows open, with fans in the bed with us to make it more bearable. I sleep wearing bug spray. We often come home to find that there is no electricity, with no knowledge of when it might turn back on. The power goes out several times a day, and unless you have an inverter, you are in the dark until it miraculously returns. That means that the fans in our bed usually turn off around 4am and stay off until power returns around 9am (at least that has been the pattern lately, but who really knows). That means wandering around the apartment at night with flashlights when we arrive home to no lights. We have also gotten into the habit of going on walks around Bayona, going through Cielo and Nazaret, and stopping to talk to friends along the way. It is a great way for me to practice Spanish, a great way to see more people, and a fun addition to a night that could be spent sitting in a hot casa. Tonight, it started raining when we were at about the furthest point from the apartment, which was a fun addition. Dominican men sing to us a lovely song that basically says they need an americana to get their visa. I eat fresh fruit purchased from carts on the street for about one meal a day. I get up at 6:30am to walk my friend's dog with him, because that is the only time any form of outdoor exercise is bearable.

I am living between these two worlds of comfort and poverty. I spent the morning sitting in the clinic with a precious Haitian boy named Lovensly, who busted his lip playing on the playground. Anna spotted the 50 pesos to pay for the clinic, all of about $1.50, so that his family wouldn't have to worry about it. I sat with him and taught him Spanish vocabulary, as he continues to learn Spanish now that he has moved here after the earthquake in Haiti. Then, I went back to the hotel to watch the World Cup game. I am not sure which world I am supposed to stay in. Do I stay in the difficult, sweaty, emotionally exhausting world of extreme poverty and struggle? Or do I give in to the desire for comfort? Do I allow myself to continue to live like an American, or do I let it all go and do my best to dive fully into the hardships of real life in the DR? I know what I should do, but when I have the option of comfort, it is harder than I thought to fully give in. I wish my boss had not insisted that I stay in the hotel. Part of me really wishes he had not offered me his car for the month. I know what I should be doing, but comfort is so much easier...