We stepped off the bus in Santo Domingo, taking in the city. The smell of sea salt and gasoline filled our nares, carried along by the ocean’s breeze. We eagerly took it all in. The restaurants, the lights, the music. The pigeons cooing on the street. It felt unreal, like we were living in a dream. 

When we visited Los Tres Ojos the next day, we were taken aback by the beauty of the cenotes and the allure of the stories behind them. The Taíno people who lived there long before the Spaniards believed that if you splashed your face with the clear turquoise water, all your wishes would come true. 

Jarabacoa’s heart was Rio Jimenoa. Waterfalls rushed down stones at our resort, but the sweet stream led to a neglected riverbed. We wandered the woods and bounded along rocks that rose out of the water, picking up trash where we could. Local niños floated down the river on innertubes, ready to help clean up their community. Stray dogs greeted us kindly, and una gatita meowed for help under a piece of sheet metal. Her white and orange body was tiny and shivering. She was rescued by our classmate and brought to safety. At the end of the day, piles of trash bags lined the river, ready to be taken away.

We got back on the bus to begin our three hour journey to Puerto Plata. On the way, we saw many lotería stands and went to the supermercado. We spotted a vendor selling pizza labeled “Winsconsin 6 Cheese,” and we felt our worlds collide as we thought of our home state, Wisconsin. When we finally arrived at our destination, we were relieved and threw our things down in our rooms. Then we ran to the buffet in our nicest dinner dresses. The walls were lined with exotic foods, flavors, and colors! We ate bizarre foods like passion fruit and tarte guava. The pineapple was like rays of sunshine on our taste buds. As we finished our feast, we dashed to la playa, called Costa Dorada. 

The sun set, and the sky grew dark and cold. A green hue washed over us, compensating for the lost warmth. We raced along the sand, as fast as we could. We stood in the water and looked out into the horizon, as far as the inky sky allowed. The ocean tickled at our knees and weaved its salty water into the thread of our dresses. All alone on the beach, we splashed and laughed and wished that this dream would never end.