I stopped in the church on a Sunday morning, because I heard real voices singing and, being a singer, was curious. Untrained, unaccompanied, and unselfconscious, four or five young adults were warming up for the Sunday church service. I sat down, and watched as people wandered in to eventually fill perhaps 20% of the lovely chapel.
The service started, and I stayed. I stayed, even 'tho I understood not a word of the sermon or the liturgy, which was conducted in Dominican Spanish. I stayed because I loved watching the hands that waved greetings to each other, the hands of children that waved in the air while they were lovingly held by their grandmothers or aunts, the hands that beckoned friends to join them, the hands that reached out in supplication, and the hands that ultimately grasped my own in greeting.
There are several professional photographs in books and in print that show the architecture of the chapel and its surroundings. They are very nice, and I noticed that, too. But if you can visit during a Sunday morning, do so.