Day 148 – Dead Dudes, 4th of July, and Startingto Work – Paraiso, DR – 7/22/08
Part I – San Rafael and Dead Guys
Hereit is, the highly anticipated blog update. It is difficult to get to this thing for some reason. I mean I really want to keep a recordof the crazy shit that constantly is going on here, but in the wake of all thisaforementioned crazy shit it is hard to sit down at a computer and type for acouple of hours. I mean, afterall, I could be missing the next crazy thing that is happening right now. However, given that I am suffering froma bout of what I like to think of as “the most amazing weight loss programever”, AKA the poops, I could manage to take a load off (yes, double meaningspeople) and do this thing.
Thetown right next to mine is called San Rafael. It is actually more breathtaking than my own site,Paradise. There are two mainattractions in San Rafael, one being the many natural pools that form with theriver flowing down the side of the mountain, and the other being the beachitself. In my area, there are nottoo many sandy beaches; they are much more like the beaches of the Keys, withpebbles instead of the Florida trademark white powder sand. However, San Rafael has the closestthing with this slightly grayish course sand. This combined with the river with pools that flow right downto the ocean, the colmados that line the beach, and abundance of tables,chairs, music, and good ole fashioned Dominican craziness make San Rafael ahell of a place to hang out. Also,there is a volunteer there, Zoe, who has become a good friend of mine. Now that you have the background, let’sget to the story.
Zoecalled me up one day to see if I wanted to meet her and two other visitingvolunteers at San Rafael beach. Who am I to turn down a trip to what many refer to as the most beautifulpart of a country that is known for beauty? So I slapped on the board shorts and headed for the guaguastop. Fortunately, San Rafael isonly 10 kilometers up the road, so in less than 30 minutes from leaving myhouse, I had that sand under my feat. I found Zoe and the two other volunteers sitting at one of the tablesnearby and promptly joined them. We did the whole “get to know you” conversation, which is a bitdifferent in Peace Corps because instead of the normal “Where you from?”, “Comehere often?”, “How are you?”, and “How do you like it here?”, our conversationsalways start with, “Where is your site?” , “What sector are you”, and “Whatprojects are you doing?” Withthose formalities out of the way, we got down to business, which was enjoyingthe huge surf, crystal clear blue green water, admiring the cliffs that plungeinto the sea, and dipping in the ice-cold refreshing river pools. After a couple of hours of this brutalwork schedule Zoe had to head back to her house to teach English class. With a lot of peer pressure, whichamounted to about 30 seconds, Zoe was convinced to bring her English class downto the beach to have conversations with some other Americans. It was a great idea, I mean what betterway to see where your class is at than to get them interacting with nativespeakers. Also, a field trip isalways welcome here, even if most of her students live in San Rafaelalready.
Aboutan hour later, a group of 5 Dominicans make there way down the beach, clutchingtheir notebooks in a tight grip, obviously a bit nervous to show theirskills. We greeted them withhandshakes and a nice dose of English. To my surprise, these guys kicked some English ass! They could do the whole “normal,non-Peace Corps” introduction and even get down to questions and answers like“What do you like to do in your free time?” I was blown away. Zoe had only been teaching this class for a little over a month. There were a couple in particular thatdidn’t have the stage fright that grips many Dominicans and dove in head firstto the conversations. After about20 minutes of exhausting every type of basic question we could think of, thedynamic had changed drastically. Now, the Dominicans felt at ease and were comfortable just hanging out withthe Americans, especially since we decided they had performed admirably andswitched to Spanish to let their brains have a break. You could practically see the sigh of relief when theyrealized we all spoke Spanish. Sowe pulled up some more chairs, and now with our new entourage of Dominicanfriends, got back to business.
Itis hilarious to think back to that day. After we got comfortable, the Dominicans wanted to learn some moreEnglish. However, their questionswere not based around the normal conversations English. They wanted to know what I refer to as“The Dirty”. The Dirty is exactlywhat you think it is. It includesthe three words that my mother demands I not say, all the four-letter words,the list from George Carlin (RIP you crazy motha), and all the slang for anysexual position or act you can think of. Now I know that some of you, especially my Mom, are probably cringing inanticipation of where this is going, but bear with me. I know the importance and the desire toknow these phrases. We gave awarning lecture before this lesson was to begin to explain that this was notfor use and vulgarity in their short English mental dictionaries, but so thatthey know what is being said and know what is inappropriate to say. Peace Corps gave us one of theselessons, and we were all eager to hear it, just as our students were now.(Which, by the way, after I got that lesson, my view on a number of exchanges Ihave had with individuals here changed GREATLY!) So, with that, we left it to the students to ask us thephrase in Spanish, and we would reply to the English equivalent. Don’t worry, all of the students wereadults, we weren’t corrupting any young minds here. The students were highly enjoying this class, laughing andhaving a grand ole time. It wasfun for us too. Believe it or not,but with this little class, Zoe and I built more confianza (trust) with our SanRafael friends in this one class than our entire times here so far. Them seeing that we trusted them andwere friendly enough with them to give a class that is a bit unorthodox, whilethem feeling comfortable enough to ask with inquisitive intent did a lot ofhelp in building these relationships. In fact, given that I am writing this a bit delayed, I can attest tothis, as two of the students I met that day are now a couple of the guys Iwould consider close friends here.
Theclass ended when all words, phrases, and oddities were shared. Some went home, some stayed at thebeach, but everything turned back to the job at hand once more, enjoying lifein the DR at San Rafael beach. That was, until the craziest thing that has happened to me herehappened…
Wewere sitting back in our chairs with legs propped up on another chair when allof the sudden people started running down the beach about 300 meters fromus. A fishing boat was pulling upthe beach. We stopped one of ourDominican acquaintances that was excitedly running towards the boat. We asked, “What in the hell is goingon?” To which he replied, “Thereis a dead guy down there on the beach!” Well, call me a wuss, but I don’t really see the fun in seeing deadpeople, especially freshly dead. Zoe, the two other volunteers, and myself decided the best course ofaction was to stay where we were, as the crowd around the body, which was nowunloaded off the fishing boat and laid upon the beach, grew to an astoundingamount that I would guess to be around 100. After about 5 minutes of commotion and our stunned looks, aDominican walked by and speaking with his friend said that the guy was stillalive. Well this tipped me offthat perhaps, believe it or not, I was one of the best-equipped persons tohandle this situation. I got up andwalked over to the crowd, and after edging my way through the mass of people,found myself standing over and staring straight down at a 50ish year-oldDominican man who appeared to be in shock. He was shaking and his eyelids were flutteringspastically. The thing about thiskind of situation here in the DR is that there is no such thing as 911. You can’t just call the paramedics tocome and help. So the problem wasthis, how to get this man to the closest hospital (Barahona! 30 Kilometers away!) withoutendangering his life more than the teetering edge that is seemed to be on. I mean if he was in shock it wasimperative that we get him to a medical facility immediately. I also knew that he needed to be keptwarm, as his skin was almost grayish, and his lips blue. However, this was to be mylargest-to-date failure of Spanish language.
Icouldn’t explain what people needed to do to help this man’s chance ofliving. I didn’t know the word forblanket, I didn’t know the word for shock, hell, and I couldn’t even explainthat it was dangerous to be moving the man since we had no idea as to back orhead injuries. Someone had offeredto put the man in the back of his or her SUV and take him to Barahona. With this news, a group of Dominicanmen lifted the man and started trekking up the beach to the SUV. I accompanied, trying in vain to explainsome basic things we should be doing to help this man. He was loaded into the back of the SUVand off they went. I basicallyfelt like shit. There is no way toput it other than that. Here was alife on the line, and because my technical Spanish isn’t quite there, Icouldn’t help to the point that I should have been.
Theman died in the SUV on the way to Barahona. About an hour later, the police showed up to dointerviews. No one knew who theman was, where he came from, what happened. Just that the fishermen found him floating out in thewater. To this day, almost a monthlater, no one knows what happened. But this is a day that I am not to forget anytime soon. For that matter, it pushes to learnmore Spanish as quickly as possible.
Part II – The Girlfriends Here!!
Ohman! What a day this was tobe. After 4 months of phonetalking and the occasional Skype face-to-face Haley was coming to the DR. I was completely ecstatic abouthis. She flew in on the 14thof June for a 10-day visit. Truthbe told, I was a bit nervous for her, since she hadn’t really been out of thecountry, at least to a country like the DR. Getting there would prove to be just that, a bit difficult.
Haleyhad a hell of a travel day with about 10 hours of flights and layovers to passmore than enough time. I hadalready gone into the capitol so that I could pick her up at the airport withthe help of our good pal Wilson, the Peace Corps official airport taxi dude. Usually, for a private taxi to theairport is about 1700 pesos, or 50 bucks! Given that I am living in what many consider poverty, that’s a steepprice. However, with Wilson, heonly charges 1000 pesos, or about 30 bucks. It helps soften the blow a bit, and in return for hisdiscount, he gets about 100% of Peace Corps business. Anyways, with the help of Wilson, we set off to the LasAmericas Airport in Santo Domingo to pick up my woman!
Haley’sflight was supposed to be in about 6:00pm, but given flight travel nowadays, itarrived about an hour late. I feltkind of bad for Wilson, but he told me that he is used to it. Waiting for Haley to walk down the rampwas like having a lotto ticket when they are calling numbers, they called thefirst 5 and you have them and are waiting to hear the sixth to see if youwon. I had butterflies in mystomach like you wouldn’t believe. I mean, after all, 4 months had gone by, and when you have been togetherfor 2 years, that is a good portion of your relationship. Although, I must say, I was lookingrather studly in my Tiki Bash shirt and jeans, which don’t fit me anymore sinceI am on the 3rd world country diet. Anyways, after long anticipation, I finally saw this littlething walking down the ramp in a sexy blue dress. Tan, blond as can be, skinny mcskinny, and completelygorgeous. Here I thought, “Man,that chicks hot, welcome to the DR hot thing.” I was thinking that maybe I should through out a good piropo(cat call from Dominican men) at this foxy lady. But then as she came a bit closer, I saw that it was Haley! Holy deuce!
Iwas completely happy to see her. She came down and we hugged and kissed, and she went on to explain thather travels were quite the adventure. Between Spanish custom forms, a rickety plane ride from Puerto Ricowhere she thought she would die, and the nervousness of seeing me, she waspretty happy to be on solid ground and finally in her destination, the bestcountry in the world (outside of the good ole USA), the DR.
Wehopped in with Wilson and went off to our hotel. The hotel was awesome. It is this place that is called an Aparthotel, which is kind of likerenting an apartment for the night. It is owned by this German guy, and is right off of Conde, the bigtourist-walking road in the Zona Colonial. While I had made a reservation weeks before, they of coursehad trouble locating it. However,they had one room that wasn’t occupied, so we took it. Not saying that we were disappointed, becausewe weren’t, but we did get the one room that wasn’t apartment style, justhotel-like, and that didn’t have working cable. But whatever, it had AC, which is an amazing luxury forthose of you comfortable inside reading this (punks, I’m sweating my ass off). Plus, it was just a place to lay yourhead, we were going to go see the city. After settling in the hotel room, and saying hello, we were off to getsome dinner and start the explorations.
Nowfor a first time visitor to the DR, it can be a bit overwhelming. I mean in the Zona Colonial, you havemore than your fair share of vagabonds, and not knowing any Spanish at all,Haley was a touch uncomfortable. But that is completely understandable, I mean hell, I was that way forthe first month I lived here. Since my sugar momma had arrived, we went to the Hard Rock Café (I know,how Dominican of me). After eatingbeans, rice, chicken, or bread for every meal for months on end, I needed aburger, and I will not be ashamed of that! It was delicious. Plus, it was my way (or my excuse) of easing Haley into the DR. I mean being here was a big step, noneed to push for Dominican food in the same evening.
Afterdinner, we strolled around the Zona Colonial, checking out the Cathedral andthe Chris Columbus statue. We wereboth pretty tired, so we decided to call it an early night and head back to thehotel… to rest. We spent anotherday in the capitol exploring a bit more, checked out the Peace Corps office,went swimming at the US Embassy, which has hot showers (Glory to God!!), andbummed around, enjoying my new home country. The next day it was off to Paraiso, time for Haley to learna little something about Paradise.
Thebus ride is always a fun one, especially with two huge suitcases. Although, I must say I am quite happyshe had two big suitcases, because one was filled with goodies for me. Gummy Bears, Instant Mashed Potato,Combos, Cheese and Peanut Butter Crackers! Holy mother, this was the best. Especially since my Dona is seemingly intent on starvingme. We got into Barahona on aCaribe Tours bus, which is like primo traveling in this country. They are like nice charter buses, whichwhen you are lucky, will even play a movie for you. Since the ride from Santo Domingo to Barahona times justaround 3 ½ hours, I find it necessary. However, the ride from Barahona to Paraiso is a whole differentstory. This was to be Haley’sfirst experience in a tried and true Dominican guagua.
Guaguakind of translates as bus, or some kind of van-like public transportation. However, I believe that it shouldtranslate as pack as many people as you can in a shoddy van that looks like itshould have died 100,000 miles ago, and pray to make it to your destinationwithout dying (yourself, not just the van). However, the ride between Barahona and Paraiso is made alittle bit better by the fact that the scenery is gorgeous. A 40-minute ride later, we were makingthe turn and Paraiso materialized below in this little alcove rimmed bymountains on three sides and the Mar Caribe on the other. Haley simply said that it was “frickinridiculous” that this is where I was to make home for the next two years. The guagua dropped us off right infront of the hotel (I use that word loosely in this situation) and we got ourroom. I had asked for a room with“air” so that we could beat back the heat. We got up to our room, and I immediately went over to tryout the “air”. When I clicked iton, it sounded like a semi-truck was barreling through our room. Thus, we had a decision to make. Cool room with mucho ruido (lots ofnoise), or a little hotter but tranquilo (peaceful). We opted for the latter, and switched to a room with afan. Good decision in the end, thesecond room was naturally much cooler, as it was under lots of shade, and withthe fan on, it was quite comfortable. It was already into the evening by the time we got in, so we decided tojust go meet my Dona, Senda, and then head back to the hotel to rest up for theadventures we would be having the next few days.
MeetingSenda is always an adventure. Sheis a sweet lady, but a bit crazy. Shewill greet you as if you are her long-lost sibling being reunited after yearsapart. Hugs and strange soundsthat I suppose mean jubilation reverberate through the house as Senda meetsHaley. The entire town was prettyexcited to see who the Gringo’s girlfriend was. I mean after all, it is supposedly my duty to take on aDominican girlfriend, and they had to see who this was that I said was thereason I would be flying sans DR GF for my time here. After an awkward couple of minutes, I excused us so that wecould get some dinner and head back to the hotel.
Thenext few days were amazing. Spending time with Haley makes life infinitely better. We did all the fun things in myarea. Chilled out with Zoe and SanRafael beach (no dead guys this time), went to Los Patos (translates as TheDucks), hiked the river here in Paraiso, enjoyed a couple Presidentes and a bitof Brugal, and most importantly enjoyed being around each other again. It was hard to have to pack up and headback to the capitol, knowing that in a couple of days she would be headed backto The States.
Therewas one good thing about her trip coming to an end, and that was the time wehad when back in the capitol. Instead of staying in the other hotel that we did when she arrived, weopted for the good old Pen. ThePen is where all PCVs spend their nights when in Santo Domingo, mostly becauseit’s cheap. Given that we weretowards the end of the trip, that may have played a bit in the decision, butalso because Haley wanted to meet a few other volunteers. Sure, we had hung out with the guys andgals in my neck of the woods here in Paraiso, but to spend time with volunteersin the capitol when we don’t have to be the Peace Corps professionals in oursites can be a bit more interesting, and always a hell of a lot of fun.
Itjust so happened that when we were staying there, a few of my friends were intown, and did they ever have plans. Haley really wanted to spend time with other volunteers, so despite thefact that the plan was to head to a strip club!!!!, we decided to tagalong. And thus, at 11:30pm weheaded out of the Pen and started the trek to the tasteful ladies club that wasluckily just down the road. Whenwe got there, my buddy Enrique was hanging out in front. What I didn’t realize until that momentwas that it was five till midnight and in this country they stop selling at12:00am. Enrique had a terrifiedlook on his face, and my face joined his at this revelation. For this reason, and because Itruthfully wasn’t too psyched to go to a Dominican strip club, Enrique, Haley,and myself began the expedition to find a few jumbos of Presidente before thedreaded deadline.
Enriqueknew of a colmado that was just down the street, about 4 or 5 blocks away. When we arrived, we were devastated tofind that it was closed. Undeterred, we forged onward. Another couple of blocks later, I spied some neon lights in thedistance. Now by this time it wasa solid ten minutes past zero-hour, but we figured there is never harm inasking. We were able to sneak injust under the closing gate to purchase our jumbos. Completely content that we won in our quest, we took seatright outside of the colmado to enjoy our reward and bask in the glory ofaccomplishment.
Suddenly,we were approached by a gentleman whom let us know that if there was everanything, and he meant ANYTHING, he was the man to talk to. Therefore, after the prizes werefinished, he came up and asked if he could supply his services. We decided to hear his salespitch. Unfortunately, thisgentleman was one of the Dominicans that sees white skin and sees money. He was trying to charge an ungodlyprice of 150 pesos per jumbo. Nowa jumbo is never more than 100 pesos, but he assured us that it was our onlyoption and that he was taking a risk given that it was now far aftermidnight. However, we had Enriqueon our side. This kid is acomplete trip. He has been herefor almost his two years, and knows his way around a jumbo negotiation. He explained that we were campesinoswho could not afford ridiculous prices like that. After a good twenty minutes of bargaining, they were in adeadlock. It was as if two greatbeasts had come face to face and after a long battle stood tired staring backat the other. Finally, the Dominicanman decided that his tactics were not going to work and stomped offangrily. At that same moment,another kinder man came over and for the very fair price of 100 pesos helpedthose in need. And thus we spent abit more time there, and after a while, the strip club gang showed up. The kind soul retrieved more jumbos andwe hung out for quite a while.
Withthis imbibing of jumbos comes the need to go to the bathroom. This is no big deal for a man, as theworld is a possible toilet here. If you have no shame, wherever you desire can be your place ofsalvation. However, it is bit moredifficult for a woman. Therefore,when Haley needed to use the restroom, we employed the Dominican man to see ifthere was a place fitting of her bottom. He said that there was a bar just about 200 meters away that she coulduse. So Haley got up and startedto follow the man the bar. Well Iknew better than to let Haley walk down this road with this dude, so I got upand started chase. Haley went intothe bar, and I caught up seconds later. However, there was this huge guy standing out front. I asked him if I could go inside towait for my girlfriend who was using the restroom. He just gave me an odd look and motioned for me to enter.
WhatI was to find inside I wasn’t ready for. I had entered another world that most people don’t, and don’t want to,know. There were scantily cladDominican beauties everywhere, with fat, bald, white dudes scatteredaround. It was dark inside, withRegeaton music blaring. Three ofthe nice young ladies (surely working their way through medical school) came upto me and motioned for me to sit on one of the many couches with them. However, I opted to explain that I wasjust waiting for my girlfriend to come out of the bathroom. Believe it or not, but they don’t hearthat much, and with a scoff and yet another odd look they disappeared back intothe mix of weirdness going on. Haley came out a moment later, and with taking her hand and walkingquickly to the door, we left that world, hopefully to never visit itagain. (Although, I will neverregret that occurrence, as it was completely odd, and hilarious)
Therest of the night passed without major happenings, and we had a blast.
Thenext day was a sad one. Haley wasgoing home. I decided against thekidnapping thing and instead accompanied her to the airport. After waiting entirely too long in lineto get her plane ticket, it was time for the goodbye. Now it wasn’t as hard as the original goodbye in Orlando,but it still wasn’t an easy one. When Haley cries, I go crazy. I hate that she is sad, but at the same time, she kind of has to be sadwhen she leaves, only because she was happy when she was here.
Haley’strip was the best part of my time here so far. Sharing my strange new world with her was amazing. I hope that the rest of you punks getdown here at some point so that I can share it with you too. Thanks to Haley for coming, I know I’ma pain in the ass for joining the Peace Corps, and perhaps it’s not your idealpicture for our relationship, but you mean the world to me, and I hope you canput up with me for a bit more.
