"Vida Dominicana," by Dariana E.

I am from the pilón in my Grandma’s kitchen 

from the greca that brews every morning

and the tostoneras that pound before dinner 

I am from the larimar and the bayahibe rose

I am from a place where the sound of the wind 

against the palm trees calm my soul

I am from the “Cion Tia!” 

and “Dios te bendiga!”

From the “Dimelo!”

and “Que lo que!” 

I am from the smell of cinnamon that lingers from the habichuela con dulce on Good Friday

I am from the country that carries the Bible in the center of not only our flag

but our identity

From learning “The Lord’s Prayer” as soon as I could talk

I am from early Sunday mornings at church with my Abuela

Hearing hymns as faith fills my heart

I’m from El Cibao, a region in the Dominican Republic

Where mangú and arroz con carne fill our stomach

I am from a place where you hear bachata in every corner so often

the voices of Romeo Santos, Juan Luis Guerra, 

and so many others engrave themselves into my mind

I’m from where baseball is brought up in every conversation 

From where most five-year-old boys say 

they have a dream to become a successful baseball player like David Ortiz or Juan Soto

From the late night stories that my abuelos tell on the front porch when our campo is quiet

A contrast to the loud motorcycles that speed by throughout the day 

and the colmado that is full of spirit

with old men playing dominoes while merengue plays in the background

Even though, I was raised in Brooklyn

I will always carry the pride and tradition of my Dominican roots

Soy una quisqueyana orgullosa