It does seem to take me longer than Dan to settle into a place. Our bike ride on Sunday morning gave me a clearer sense of my new surroundings. Although it is a bit of an effort to take our folding bikes off the boat and assemble them on land, it is worth it every time! Dan and I are both sensitive to try not to gawk at folks as we travel about, but our being on bicycles made us the spectacle. The norm for transport here in Luperon is the small motorcycle. The terrain demands it. And it is not unusual to see momma, papa, and a couple of bambinos in tow on one vehicle!Thank goodness we have 21 gears because we used them all!
Our approach was to get going early before the heat of the day. The village was just waking up. In a climate that is temperate all year round the need for windows diminishes. Doors are left open for air circulation so the happenings in the main living space are often exposed to the passers-by. Chickens move about the yard and through the house without notice. Music fills the air as it oozes out of the confines of the inside to the space to the outside where the family sweeps, irons or sits in the yard to contemplate the day. Shops along the street often appear closed when they are not because they are dark inside. Electricity in Luperon is sporadic; when the demand exceeds the supply, there is darkness. It is not uncommon to see a couple of deep cell batteries with an inverter in the corner of a shop to kick in when the lights go out. Other shops have no power at all. Some folks were sweeping the sidewalk in front of their shops, others made their way through the streets dressed in starched clothes – perhaps on their way to church. We found the bakery, selected a couple of items and made our way out of town. We have been noticing that the dew is very heavy in the morning as we climbed up out of town into the surrounding hills, it glistened on the lush green fields. We passed horseback riders transporting milk cans or long poles tied onto the saddle. There were herds of cattle being driven to other pastures for the day’s grazing. The land is lush green. 
Fences are crafted of spike tipped poles or small trees that are cultivated to function as hitching posts for the wire. Cacti are sculptured into dense hedges that define a field or corral livestock. Although there are a lot of fences, there seem to be plenty of farm animals that are free ranging. There are tree-lined lanes that serve as avenues of access to rear pastures – or maybe secret gardens.
As we moved farther away from the town we witnessed the simplicity and the hard work of the owners of this land. Cows were being milked, plants were being sprayed and fresh baked smells were wafting from the kitchens. As we came to the top of a ridge we stopped to catch our breath and survey our surroundings; two young boys, perhaps 6 and 8 came trudging up the hill, bare-footed; one pushing the wheelbarrow filled with 4-5 jugs of water the other opening the gate to their property. The memory of these young boys stayed with me later as Dan and I ate burritos at the local restaurant. I couldn’t help but think of the value they were assimilating about hard work and meeting ones basic needs. There was no contrived importance for their position in the family – each of them was needed.And so in a subtle way, I came to respect this new place where I now live. It is far different than where I came from. I am grateful for these lessons.
