On being called a gringa

To be honest, my last week in the DR was a bit annoying. After working and living in the DR for a month, I started feeling more comfortable with the language as well as daily life here. My expectations changed. I guess the fact that my expectations changed shows how much progress I made but I can’t help but still be a little irritated by my last week abroad.

Prices in the DR are never really set. Everyone haggles prices and the starting point is different based on a number of factors (how rich you look, what time of day it is, rain, etc). As someone living in this country by herself with super pale skin (thanks med school in Cleveland!) and super blonde hair, I always got charged higher prices than locals. At first, it really didn’t bother me. Who cares? It’s only like US $0.50… why bother getting upset about it? After a few weeks of living here, however, I got better at calling people out and knowing how much things should really be costing. When David came to visit me, we spoke a lot of English to each other. Locals heard that we spoke English and charged us ridiculously high prices for everything. I felt so cheated out of money! And it felt so unfair to me. I didn’t feel like a tourist anymore and it bothered me that I was being treated like one.

Someone at work called me a gringa during my last week. I am not a gringa- a negative word used to describe outsiders, tourists, people who don’t take the time to understand the place they are visiting. I took it really personally. It was a huge insult to me. I have worked so hard to improve my Spanish, learn about their culture, live their life, and all on borrowed money. I finally was feeling like I made progress during my month here until that person called me a gringa.

Money was also a big issue of frustration for me this week. Any Dominican you ask would jump at the chance to go to the US (especially NYC where there is a large Dominican population). And for whatever the historical reasons are, people here assumed I was wealthy because I am from the US. As a medical student with student loans up to my ears and a nice minimum wage residency in my future, I definitely don’t feel like I have any money. It bothered me that co-workers asked me if I would give them my $150 stethoscope or asked me to buy textbooks for them with my credit card. It bothered me that people I considered friends here were suddenly wanting money from me. I felt so used.

I talked to several Peace Corps workers here who told me that they had similar gripes about living here in the DR. I’m glad that I wasn’t the only one to feel this way. I’m a bit disappointed that my last days here in the DR were a bit jaded. That said, I still learned a lot about myself, medicine, and the person I hope to be one day during this month abroad. I always knew there would be hard days. I’ll count myself lucky that my most frustrating days occurred when home was just around the corner.