Adventures in the Dominican Republic, Part IV
Field Notes II.XXVII: Photographing a mission trip to the Dominican Republic, July 2021
Welcome to Field Notes!
This is the fourth installment of the limited series about a trip I went on to the Dominican Republic in July of 2021. Read the previous issues here-
Now, Lets go!
Wednesday July 21, 2021
As always, I awake before the dawn. Through the lone bar covered window in my room that peeks into an alleyway, I have difficulty judging the morning sky. I want to seize every opportunity for photography while I am here, so just as I did two mornings ago, I creep out into the quiet hallways of Hotel Kevin and sneak upstairs to the rooftop lounge. Based on the last experience, I have ideas for photographs under a different dawn.
The door is locked. No rooftop sunrise photography today.
Disappointed, I return to my room. With the air conditioner steadily rattling, I lay back and crack open my copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouac while enjoying cool instant coffee out of a plastic water bottle, waiting for the rest of the town to wake.
After convening in the lobby and having breakfast, the group prepares for another morning of bending rebar and lashing it together with wire into geometrical forms. These forms are the inner structure of concrete pillars that will be the foundation of the small chapel we are helping to construct. The work is repetitive and quickly becomes a minor tedium, but the crew is becoming skilled at it by now.
As the temperature of the day rises, the stacks of our creations grow. The courtyard of the church begins to look like a graveyard of robot corpses in some weird dystopian future. These metal skeletons lie silent and still, baking in the tropical sun, rusting from our salty sweat.
Finally we break for lunch, where we begin to hear about our next adventure.
Packed with bathing suits and prepared for a lengthy bus ride, we board Expresso. Hochi, our driver, steers us east in the direction of Sosua, where we visited the beach the day before yesterday. This ride, however, continues past Sosua for a very long time along a highway following the Dominican coast. The land slips past us in a blur of green under blue skies dotted with puffy white clouds. Low mountains loom temptingly on the distant horizon beyond the highway.
Eventually, Hochi turns off of the main roadway towards some rough side streets in a small village. My inner sense of alarm grows as our small bus squeezes between buildings, but Hochi is a master driver and never misjudges a turn. These side streets dwindle and the buildings thin out until we find ourselves on a rutted dirt road in the apparent wilderness. Brush and shrubs form sheer walls on either side of this one lane path, to a height even with the windows on our bus. There is no extra room. If we meet a vehicle coming the opposite way, we will be at an impasse.
We creep along slowly, but no other vehicles come. At its terminus the road opens up into a dirt parking area. Here we get out and stretch.
A wide lazy river meanders to meet the ocean before us. The low distant mountains form the backdrop to the sprawling vista of water and vegetation, domed by the cloud dotted blue sky above. Bright stretches of soft sandy beaches line the shores of both the river and the sea.
At the moment we are the only ones here. The kids are laughing and talking, but beyond the voices of our group, the only sound is the gusting wind and the distant pulsing of ocean waves.
Wherever we are, it seems to be a recreation area known only to locals. Kelvin, our guide and host on this trip, has arranged for 2 jet skis to be brought here. They arrive shortly after we do and they are quickly unloaded into the water. We are given exhilarating rides up and down the river.
The warm, calm river is a delight to swim in. The whole group soaks in the water under the sun, alternating turns on the jet skis. We are cautioned that we cannot swim in the ocean. Strong currents result in several casualties each year. I don’t intend to swim, but it is time to pull out my camera and explore!
I am immediately faced with some very tough shooting conditions. Here I am, on this glistening beach, but under the harshest mid-day sun. I could dream of being here at sunrise under fiery low clouds, but those dreams would amount to nothing. I am here now and will capture the best photos I can.
I walk out onto the main sand bar separating the ocean and the river. Wind buffets the beach. Everything up to about 2 ft above ground level is being pelted with windblown sand. All of my gear is contained in my pack, which I lay on the ground as I scout for photo compositions. Sand quickly accumulates on and around the bag, but its weather resistant construction keeps it out.
More complex shots with exposure blending or focus stacking require a tripod. The only one I have with me on this trip is a small Gorillapod, fairly sturdy and adaptable, but not height adjustable. Low to the unstable ground, the wind shakes the camera and sprays it with sand.
The kids continue to splash and play in the river. I stand a distance away watching them and feel a separation from the group. Maybe it is the gap in age. Or, that almost all of these people, including the other adults, knew one another prior to going. I am both a part of them and an outside observer.
I see their unfiltered youthful joy. Ripples widen in the water around them and the scene fills me with hope. I see the way this experience is causing auspicious ripples in our souls, to be carried forth in the different directions of our future lives.
In the late afternoon our entire company is exhausted. We shake the sand from ourselves, say our goodbye’s to the surf, and load back into Expresso. Several of the kids nap on the quiet ride back to Hotel Kevin.
Dinner is again a most hearty and welcome meal of local foods provided by the church. As night falls we reflect on this day of adventure and what still lies in store in the remainder of the trip. Then wearily, we all retreat to our rooms.
I never heard the name of this location or of the river. Much later, I scour maps to try to identify it. My best determination, is it Puerto La Boca or Boca de Yasica on the Rio Yasica.
Hey everyone! I hope you all are enjoying this series. If you read down this far, I have some exciting news! This issue of Field Notes is published on Sunday July 14, 2024. Well, in a couple of days I’ll be headed on another adventure. This time to Honduras!
Next week’s Field Notes will be a scheduled post while I am out of town. Bear with me, as I doubt I will be able to reply to messages. Fingers crossed that this will be a productive trip for film and photography, and I’m excited to bring the experience to you in upcoming editions!
If you haven’t seen it, check out the new page I created for my photo galleries. I’ve re-organized and updated them, as well! I’m still working on labeling them, but feel free to reach out if you have any questions.
Honduras!!!! That's super exciting!
You have an incredible eye for capturing ordinary things and making them curious and interesting. I really like the pics of hardware and that close-up of the blue boat. Old, ratty boat pics are some of my favs.
Beautiful photography and flow.