[Picture: Painting (unknown) seen in El Meson D’Bari restaurant in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic]
I would make a terrible art critic. I can’t tell you who painted this picture or its title. I can tell you that it hangs in a restaurant, “El Meson d’Bari”, in Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic. The walls of El Meson d’Bari are covered in local artworks and this large canvas, measuring several feet across, dominates one wall.
I was there with some friends from the Congregational Federation and Christian Aid, and we were immediately struck by the picture. It was my first visit to the tropics and to a lower income country, and the painting wonderfully and evocatively captured the colour and drama we were witnessing all around us. An azure blue sky is framed with palm trees and criss-crossed by overhead telephone lines. Below sits a haphazard array of buildings of varying colours and states of repair. You can almost feel the heat and humidity in the air.
Your eye is drawn to street level, for here is where life is lived. There are no cars, just a riot of activity. It is not entirely clear what is going on – probably a street market or maybe just local people going about their daily business – but the hubbub of humanity is captured in the swirls of the artist’s brush.
And somewhere, lost in these swirls, are the marginalised and the dispossessed. As this is the Dominican Republic, many of these will be migrants from its neighbour, Haiti. The two countries have long had a troubled relationship, and economic migrants from Haiti have been distrusted and forced to live on the margins of society. That was why we were in the Dominican Republic. We were visiting Christian Aid projects which are directly supporting these Haitian migrants, providing schooling and access to medical facilities and working to ensure that their human rights are respected and protected. Within the Congregational Federation we raised money to directly support these projects.
But that was 15 years ago. A few short weeks after our visit, an earthquake struck the Haitian capital Port au Prince in January 2010, claiming the lives of 250,000 people and affecting three million more. Tensions eased temporarily with an outpouring of sympathy in the Dominican Republic towards its Haitian neighbours. But that is now long forgotten. The recent upsurge in gang-related violence in Haiti has seen over 350,000 Haitians internally displaced. The BBC reported in March 2024 from the border town of Dajabon (another place we visited in 2009) where hundreds of undocumented Haitians are being rounded up and sent back to Haiti in the middle of a climate of increasing mistrust.
This painting captures so much of what I loved about my visit to the Dominican Republic and the people I met there. But I am reminded that it also captures a shadow of those who are lost in the swirl.
Merciful God, we pray for families and individuals who have left or fled their homes, seeker safer and better lives. We lift up to you their hopes, fears, and needs, that they may be protected on their journeys, their dignity and rights may be honoured and upheld, and they may be welcomed with open arms into generous and compassionate communities.
Amen.
(A prayer from the Catholic Church in the USA)
Philip Clarke
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