A Gentle Rain in the Dominican Republic

A Gentle Rain in the Dominican Republic

While driving through the impoverished countryside of the Dominican Republic, a thought raced through my mind: “You cannot breed your way out of abject poverty.”

The moment at which this synapse fired across my cerebral cortex occurred at a moment when, glancing out the window, I spied several naked children, aged between three and ten, being scrubbed down by their mother outside their tin shack.

I say “shack” specifically; front porch would be giving the dwelling too much credit. What I saw was poverty. Not American-poor-yet-somehow-still-fat poor, this was 3rd world subsisting-on-less-than-a-dollar-a-day poor. If a belly looked a little large, it was distended, not full of food.

For roughly ten years, I was a member of a foreign-child “adoption” program. For less than a cup of coffee a day, I sponsored the well being of children in the most-needy parts of the planet; three children “graduated” from the program while under my watch. When I say “graduated,” I actually mean “turned sixteen and became ineligible for aid under the program’s guidelines.” “Graduated” was the word the agency used.

I did not adopt a fourth child because, unfortunately, my ego got involved in the decision making process. When given the choices of currently needy children, I opted out.

Why? Because I became judgmental; all three children I sponsored and every choice I had for the fourth had one important similarity, their CV.

“Carlos is the 3rd of seven children...”

“Ny Thang has two older brothers and two younger siblings...”

“Ndugu lives with his mother, father and seven brothers and sisters under the roof of one small hut...”

And I lost it.

As embarrassing as it is to admit to, my compassion wandered off and frustration replaced it. Why the fuck were these people having so many goddamn kids? If they couldn’t afford one, why were they shitting out five, six or seven?

The answer finally hit me in the Dominican Republic: Pornography.

The 3rd world hasn’t been exposed to enough quality American porn. Maybe they’ve seen Asian anime, or German fetish videos, but the 3rd world is generally still taking to heart the idea sex is only for procreation, and you finish while still inside the woman. What the 3rd world needs to learn is: You don’t always have to blow your load that way; there are many interesting and fun places outside the vaginal walls to leave your little swimmers.

Naturally, you can’t teach this sort of thing in schools, because (1) they don’t have any, and (2) nothing you learn in school you listen to anyway, because it’s “not cool.”

Porn, however, IS cool, and porn teaches you in subtle ways, because you want to emulate without even realizing it. The natives could learn about exciting things, such as “pearl necklaces”—something they couldn’t afford in the tangible sense—and anal sex; hey, no babies get made that way!

I don’t know exactly how to implement this plan, but I’m going to file for a stimulus grant from the government and get the ball rolling.

(Bet you didn’t see that twist coming when you started reading. Eat a bag of dicks, M. Night)