sometimes it isn't all one big paradise

I am a good observer, a fair writer, and am living a small but sweet daily adventure. I try not to wear rose-colored glasses. There are tarantulas here. and scorpions. and other bad stuff. like anywhere else. I liked a recent article that described "island life" in opposition to US standards. It is different, and if approached with a certain lack of expectation, everything gets accomplished(eventually) and there is enough food and drink to go around, maybe the benefit of running water and/or electricity.... Yesterday an innocent request blew me out of the water. On the way out of town after a great softball game( I am THE team nurse, don't worry: I will not pick up a bat.)And after the victorious game and the after party in the street with plenty of beer, a few of us ended up having a celebratory pizza, a real treat. And more beer and lots of broken Spanish with the team's pitcher, and two players that are neck and neck for MVP...and the sponsor of the team, to balance out the Gringo-Dominican ratio and keep a few English words in play. So as I stop in front of the pitcher's house, he asks for "cien pesos" ( 100 pesos, the equivalent of $4.40 USD) for a neighbor who needs to go to the doctor. I scrounged around and came up with 50 pesos, having spent all on the pizza and beer...and I got an attitude back, like I was cheaping out ... It is a well-known fact that all Gringos are two-armed ATMs...there is no connection to earning money, you know, like the concept of daily regular work: white skin means you have a box of cash and it is bottomless. Had I taken all requests, small, large, and in-between, from the day I arrived here, I would have run out of all possible funds within 24 hours. The requests just keep coming. I learned a long time ago that money is not what it is all about. I have always tried to give that which is needed, directly to the needy victim. It works better for me, my pocketbook, and my soul. I once gave a TV to a home-bound patient, Ethyllene, who was dying of gastric cancer so her 5 year old could watch TV with her, and not be monkeying with her IV. That made sense to me, and made her and her son happy with something that was beyond their capacity at that time. Money would have only brought alcohol into the home, and that would not have been much of a solution for either of them. I did not want to give my last 50 pesos to someone I did not know. And I was perceived as with-holding...an act of such Ugly Americanism. I gave the 50 pesos but in trying to explain how I prefer to know who is getting the money and why, I was reminded "it's only 100 pesos..." And that's right, its nothing, but it adds up at the end of the day, week, month and I worked hard for it. I want to have the pleasure of distributing it . Wow, what an attitude I have. And I do want to help the skinny lady I remember talking to at a birthday party for the pitcher. I had asked her why she did not eat some cake, and she said she was too sick, and I knew she had cancer. And now a few weeks later I can only cough up 50 pesos to help her get to the doctor. Shit, life is unfair and can bite even the most righteous soul-saver. And I want to help all the cows, horses, burros, dogs, cats....it's a needy place, this paradise. Oh and I want a glass of wine at the end of the day too...and that is more than cien pesos. I do not live in a gated compound, but I do not want to live in a glass house either. The rules are not the same, and I wear my compassion on my sleeve, but not always does my sleeve reach my wallet. And for the current truth, I am eating an avocado, snagged from a neighbor's tree, sprinkled with salt and fresh lime juice from my tree. It is a prism of paradise, shards of bright colors , flavors, and personalities.