With only a couple hours left, we stop at a small BBQ shack on the side of the road, our last Domincan meal. We order chicken legs, and as usual, they are delicious. I spy a little girl behind the counter, I wave hello and she runs away.

A group of farmers sit in front of the shack, their table overflowing with bottles of Kubuli, the local beer. They welcome us to the island. "This is the best place in the world!". They look disappointed when we tell them its our last day here. "You're coming back, right?" Every now and then, their table erupts with racuous laughter. There's going to be a big pig roast and they are celebratory from just slaughtering a pig in the river. "Do you want to see the video? I recorded it!"

Two small-framed men in army uniforms appear. They are from Venezuela and they have been sent to rebuild the airport runway, yet another sign of the foreign aide coming into the country. One of the men calls from the table: "Amigo! You want some cerveza?". The Venezuelans just smile.

I've brought our tangerines from the car to snack on, but I decide to save the last one to savor at the airport, as a departing memory. As we get ready to leave, the little girl appears again from behind the counter. I smile at her, and outstretch my hand with the last tangerine. She looks at me cautiously, then smiles and takes it.

I recall Dixon's words as we stood in his gardens by Red Rocks: "Life gives to you, you give to others. This is what it is about."

With only a couple hours left, we stop at a small BBQ shack on the side of the road, our last Domincan meal. We order chicken legs, and as usual, they are delicious. I spy a little girl behind the counter, I wave hello and she runs away.

A group of farmers sit in front of the shack, their table overflowing with bottles of Kubuli, the local beer. They welcome us to the island. "This is the best place in the world!". They look disappointed when we tell them its our last day here. "You're coming back, right?" Every now and then, their table erupts with racuous laughter. There's going to be a big pig roast and they are celebratory from just slaughtering a pig in the river. "Do you want to see the video? I recorded it!"

Two small-framed men in army uniforms appear. They are from Venezuela and they have been sent to rebuild the airport runway, yet another sign of the foreign aide coming into the country. One of the men calls from the table: "Amigo! You want some cerveza?". The Venezuelans just smile.

I've brought our tangerines from the car to snack on, but I decide to save the last one to savor at the airport, as a departing memory. As we get ready to leave, the little girl appears again from behind the counter. I smile at her, and outstretch my hand with the last tangerine. She looks at me cautiously, then smiles and takes it.

I recall Dixon's words as we stood in his gardens by Red Rocks: "Life gives to you, you give to others. This is what it is about."