More Views From My Balcony

I've been busy putting more stuff on my web site. Added a calender. I never realized building a web site was so time consuming and brain taxing. But I enjoy it, keeps my brain working and helps me to keep my mind of being in USA for the time being.

Views From My Balcony

Chicken Killers

( view a picture here you have to scroll down to see chicken pluckers)
The truck comes down the road
White crates piled in the back
Large caldron of steaming water
Plywood makeshift table
Covered in blood with a machete laying there
A woman waves for this truck to stop
Discussion persues
A chicken is pulled from a white crate
Everyone seems to be pleased and heads nod
As I watch agassed the machete is raised and WHAPP!
The head is gone!
The writhing body of this once alive bird is held over a drum to bleed
Then it is lowered into the caldron for a short time
During this time the woman is speaking to the man
No flinching or change of expression
As the life is drained from this once clucking bird
The poor chicken, feathers being ripped from its flesh
Unmercifully
The murdering man works fast
He's a real pro at de pluming the animal
It is put on a scale and the lady nods
Happy with the outcome
He commences chopping the bird in to smaller pieces
With the same machete that cut its living throat
All the parts are put into a bag
Now money is exchanged
The clean money of the woman
Into the bloodied hands of the murdering machete man
The flesh is handed over
The woman crosses the street with the next meal for the family
The truck of death moves on at a slow pace
Watching for someone wanting to buy his next victim

Felix Navidad

Christmas again. I'm not really into Christmas anymore. About 2 years before my move to DR I decided not to celebrate Christmas. I told people it was my way to rebel against the commercialism of the holidays. I sort of liked it. I didn't feel the pressure of having to buy gifts for people. I didn't spend all that money an things that most people won't use or need. (I feel if I want to buy someone something it means more if its not an obligatory gift bought on a day when one is supposed to buy a gift). My family didn't like that I didn't get into the season but I did what I felt I needed to do.

Now I sort of enjoy not celebrating. Getting together with friends and family is good but the gift thing. I'm not into that any more. That's one good thing about Dominican Republic. Gifts are mainly for the children. Food and drink are for the adults, both of which I do enjoy.

When I was living in Colonial Zone for my first Christmas it was so nice. All the neighbors pitched in and put lights in the park and got a tree. They even had a band come and play in the park for tree lighting. The TV people were there also. It was a big thing. The ladies (not me) all cooked food and we shared all in the park. For me that was more special than all the gifts in the world. First that it was so simple and neighborly. Second that they included me, the new American neighbor, in the festivities. They all took me in. Even though I did not speak Spanish well. It was difficult communicating. Where I lived most have lived in the area for generations of at least knew someone that lived there. So for them to accept me really meant a lot to me.

I miss all my neighbors and friends there so much. I do hope when I return I can live in the same neighborhood with the people that I know and care about. Where I feel accepted and safe. I feel I belong in that neighborhood with those people. More than I ever felt I fit in to a neighborhood in USA.

Well..I have to call my Felix now. I miss him so. Then I'll call my Dominican family, Mamita and Jimmy. Then my real Blood Aunt is coming for me and we will spend the afternoon with my grandparents, Maw and Pappap. After Aunt Lois is staying the night with me. We will have some laughs I'm sure. We always do.

Merry Christmas to all!

Dominican Drivers

This is a story I wrote when I first moved to Dominican Republic. It was written 10 de Febrero de 2002. There is much I could add to the story now that I have lived in the country for a few years. But this story is my view at that time in my life. Enjoy!
(to learn about getting around Dominican Republic check this out http://www.colonialzone-dr.com/transportation.html)


Dominican Drivers

As I walk to work everyday I can't tell you how many times my life passes before my eyes. Crossing the street is very challenging in the Dominican Republic. The Dominican driver is one of the most amazing beings on this earth. They have a way of driving that makes every moment behind the wheel a life-threatening event. If you can drive in Dominican Republic you can drive anywhere in the world! I'll start with the "pare"(stop) and speed limit signs. I think they are just there for decoration or maybe something to give some painter a job, because drivers sure don't pay attention to these signs. These dare devils are listening to music (mainly bachata and merengue usually very loud), talking on their cellular (which is illegal), drinking a beer (Presidente muy frio), and enjoying their lives for the most part. Accelerating to get to the next stop before the next guy, weaving in and out of traffic. Its not just a few people that do it - everyone does! Then after midnight you don't have to stop at the red lights. It's the law! But you are responsible if there is a crash on your account. Go figure!

I haven't been able to figure out exactly what the real function of the turn signal is. I'm thinking that the turn signal and the high beams are just used for decoration..."Oh, Look at the pretty lights!" Most people seem to drive with the high beams on and noone thinks anything of it. Y have never heard any complaints about it. I really think they do not know they have a lower beam so as to be courteous to the on coming driver. Turn signals are used but never trust them. Just because the right turn signal is on doesn't necessarily mean the driver is turning right. They could be making a left turn or going straight...they like to surprise you! Many of the vehicles don't even have turn signals or back lights. I saw a truck, it was wired together with coat hangers. Even the tail light covers were wired on and he had a heavy wire he put on the door to hold it closed. y really don't know what was holding that truck together. I wonder if the lights even functioned!

There are certain beeps that these drivers use to let others know what their intentions are. Whether they are going through an intersection without stopping or they want you to move out of the way, there is a beep for every action. There are short,multiple and long beeps all with a meaning of their own and depending on the situation. Its like a Morse code. I know the Dominicans like to use their hands when they talk and I think the horn is just an extension of this. Since no one can see their hand-speak they use horn-speak. I know that before I ever attempt to drive here I will have to master this beeping technique or I will never make it driving in this country.

I know people here don't know what "the right of way" means. Everyone has the right and there is no way I have seen yet! Everyone goes at the same time, gives a beep of course, and I guess its just luck that keeps them living. At a place where cars cross the middle of the highway, I was always taught to keep to the left, but not here. Everyone just goes and when they are all wedged in they just keep going! Noone gives in and backs up. They just keep inching ahead. Like one of the cars in front, facing them, are going to magically disappear. I saw this with my own eyes, and in the center of the whole mess was a policeman standing. Waving his arms, not doing any good. I'm sure if he had a horn he would have been blowing it. But without a horn all he could do was wave his arms. I didn't stay around to see the outcome but have always wondered how this situation was remedied One morning as Sniffy and I were walking to a Colmado,a woman was driving backwards down the street. Cars were coming up on her fast! People just went around her, not bothering to give her some space so she could backup to where she was going safely. I was in a publico with a friend leaving a Colmado. About four blocks away my friend realized he wanted a beer. So instead of turning the car around the driver just backed down the road! I couldn't believe it..a main road and he was just backing up like it was really the proper thing to do!

A two-lane road is never really a two-lane road. Its how many ever lanes of traffic can fit. I think they think its a challenge to see how many cars can fit into one lane. The right side is usually filled with parked and stopped cars. People getting in and out of taxis and publicos. People pulling up to someone's home and calling out to see if the person they are looking for is there. Can't forget the motorcycles making their own lanes. Working their way in and out of the cars. Many of the cars don't even have break lights to warn someone they are stopping.

Now I have to talk about public transportation. A person can hail a taxi on every major street in the city. They are everywhere! Most of the taxis are good to average looking cars. You have the car to yourself. Then theres the publicos. These cars have anywhere from one to eight or ten people in them, however many they can squeeze in, including the packages from the store that someone just purchased. These drivers stick their hands out the window and point in the direction they are going. They usually stay on the same road driving back and forth all day. But sometimes they throw you and make an unexpected turn. The person on the street gives a signal, hand down to their side, sort of waving in the direction they want to go. If both driver and fares hand signals match then he stops and you hop in. Climb in is more like it though. You usually have to squeeze in with many others and then when someone wants out everyone has to get out to set them free. I never saw anything like it. The condition of the cars is amazing, can't believe they are permitted on the streets. Front windshields taped up, broken windows. I saw a spray painted orange publico, no taillights or bumpers. No back window. Well ok, there was a few remnants of plastic and duct tape! People loaded in. The doors closed. The car just sat there until some passer by came to the rescue and gave the bugger a push. Then it was on its way with its payload of people! There are the busses that drive like they own the road. Vans...I don't know what they are called...with the side door always open. A guy hangs out the door. He talks to the people, I guess finding out where they are going...who knows what he is saying. I haven't braved those yet. But after some people get in its off down the street with the guy still hanging out the door! There are pickup trucks where people ride in the back. A friend and I were driving behind one once. It was filled with kids jumping and wrestling. Sitting on the sides of the truck. I kept picturing one of them falling off the side of the truck. I didn't want to see this and suggested that we take a different route, which he did gladly. I have seen men riding on piles of junk and #50 sacks of rice, piled high. They are sitting on top of this heap sipping on a little plastic pack of water, enjoying the bachata from the passing cars. Singing along happily. While the driver is sipping on a cold Presidente(the local beer)!

The motorbikes, that's a whole other story. They do whatever they desire. I always wondered why they were always in the front of the traffic at red lights. Well let me tell you! They just drive between the stopped cars and get in the front! They don't have to behave like cars. They do as they please. Ride on the sidewalks and weave in and out of traffic. There is a law that's starting to be enforced. Helmets must be worn and they are not happy about this at all. But you still see many without helmets. There are three, four and sometimes more, riders and other living creatures on these motorbikes. Chickens hanging off the handlebars by their feet (still alive of course "they are fresher that way silly!"). Peoples whose butts look like they are going to slide off the back, babies in arms, groceries, propane tanks, large pieces of wood....anything that can be carried usually is.

Here is something I never saw before..horse carts in the streets. Not the pretty ones that couples use to feel romantic, even though they are here also. But a cart with a horse that looks like it could drop over any minute, pulling a cart loaded down with fruit and other items. Riding in the street like they are a car. Other fruit vendors are riding funny looking bicycles with a cart built on the front or back. With some skinny man peddling. It is amazing to me that they can even move the cart. I could never do it! There are ice-cream vendors peddling or pushing a cart ringing a little tinkley bell. An umbrella to protect their little heads from the sun ( I'm sure it is to get attention also). Early in the morning you can hear these vendors starting their rounds. Yelling out what wares they have available in their carts and ringing their bells. I always know when its around 3 o'clock. I hear the little tinkle of the ice cream mans bell!

The road hazards only add to the driving experience. Not only do you have to watch for other crazy drivers but beware of all the other things happening around you. Stray dogs with their teats dragging on the ground. Sometimes its not just one dog but a pack of dogs going out "sniffing". People crossing the roads where they so desire. Giant holes and ruts that could eat your car alive. Missing manhole covers. Construction everywhere. Some with barriers and others without. You could be driving along happily and all of a sudden there is no road...just holes and dirt and gravel. Garbage and things that can tare your tires to shreds. People mixing a drink or drinking a Presidente listening to bachata music at unbelievable decibel levels. People selling all sorts of little trinkets and nuts on many of the street corners. And lets not forget the beggars. Adults of every description and ailment, down to small children with their hands out knocking on your window. You could also be sitting at a light and get a wet, dirty sponge thrown at your windshield and have your windshield washed. Even if you don't have a windshield!

One thing I have never seen here is road rage. With all these crazy drivers and all the hazards in the streets. Not saying that it is not here, I just haven't seen it. America has great roads, cautious and courteous drivers, give the right of way, use turn signals and low beams ( mind you this is speaking in general terms), and yet there are so many angry drivers. I have never seen road rage here, even when there is an accident. Jeez! In America if someone beeps at red light or didn't turn down their high beams most drivers would be very upset. You would probably be given "the finger"(I have seen many men and women do this little gesture many times in America). They may do alot of gesturing in this country ,but I can say I have ever seen this gesture used during driving. Here people just seem to talk. They may be angry, and most people here carry guns. But they do not be dragging people out of their cars and beating them up.

I was talking to a Dominican woman, lived in USA for four years. She told me when she returned to her own country it was almost a year before she had the nerve to get behind the wheel. I hope someday I have the guts to drive here, and that I can handle the stress. I look at some of the drivers faces when they pass me as I am walking. They have a look of terror on their faces, eyes bugging out, white knuckles, as they work their way into the middle of an intersection. I'm going to be one of these white knuckled drivers someday. Dents on my 4 wheel drive Jeep. Big metal guards on all sides to protect me from the crazy way of driving here in the Dominican Republic. But hey! I still love this country

The Week of the Big Move

The final week to be in USA arrived. Everything I had left at the flea market I sold for $50. I didn't sell my mobil home so I abandoned it. I sold my shed I built for $1000. All my credit cards had a forwarding address. Had my accounts all in order. All bills paid up. All was ready.

Preparing Sniffy, my humane society dog and best friend. I gave her a breed, a miniature Barrel Shepard, because she didn't have one and I didn't want her to feel bad about that. I got her her flying box filled with her favorite blanket and her cat bowl. All labeled. She had her traveling pills to relax her. She had all her stamps from Dominican Republic. She was already a Dominican citizen. I took her to the Vet for her papers to state she was healthy for the flight. When we came back to my parents house. My mother was sitting in her room. I went in to tell her Sniffy was all ready. She started crying,"Sniffy is going to die on the plane, she won't like it there". She cried over the dog! She never worried if I was going to be OK(this was a family joke for a long time)!

My friends had a going away party for me at the old local bar. My friend, Patty, took a video of it and I'll cherish that video forever. It was a good time. An end to one life and a beginning of another. When a person moves all the promises of keeping in touch and visiting are forgotten in time. With the exception of a handful of special friends we have all lost touch. But its all OK. Memories of past times are always good.

My family also had a going away-Birthday party for me. It was a sort of picnic in the yard. Then we did a family dinner. It was nice. When we left the restaurant I hugged my grandparents good bye. I'll never forget this in all my life. When my grandfather hugged me, and he hugged me tight. He whispered in my ear to go and do what I dream. Don't worry what anyone says about what I do. Then he said, in a broken voice "I'll probably never see you again. I love you". It took everything in me not to cry. I didn't want to break down in the parking lot. *My Pappap is now 93 and I have seen him again. Even when I think of this now I still feel tears welling up.

The day to leave came. Billy Jay and my dad took me to the airport. My mom didn't want to go, she didn't want me to go and didn't want to cry in public I guess. I had Sniffy, the dog, who weighed about 80 lbs. I had my 2 check in suitcases which I weighed to make sure they were exactly the correct weight, I had my carry on piece of luggage, correct weight. I had 2 a large plastic tote box filled with my computer and all that went with it. Got weighed in but it seemed that the scale was a bit off. They let the luggage go but I had to unload some of the things out of the plastic tote. No fax machine and a few other things. Standing there emptying out the box with all the cases and the dog barking in her cage surround me. I'm sure I was a sight to be seen.

So all was done and proceeded to the line to enter the airport. Hugged and kissed my dad and my son. I didn't cry. It was hard not to when my son and dad both had tears in their eyes. But I did it. Even as I had to stop to get my carry on luggage checked out. I had a box with all my jewelry in it. There was porcupine quill jewelry, coon peckers, a few coyote teeth. Not your normal jewelry pieces. They inspected, questioned and let me through. As Billy Jay and my daddy looked on.

As I flew away from USA I didn't feel sad. I was so excited to start a new life in Dominican Republic. Then when I saw "my island" I cried, as I always did and knew I was home. The Dominicana Gringa has arrived!

Continuing On With the Move

When I came back from Dominican Republic after the big visit to the embassy trip I was ready to do what it took to be a Dominicana. I didn't tell anyone right away, at least for the first few weeks. I can keep others secrets well, but my own secrets...well, there's really no such thing.

So I started talking. I was a waitress at Kings for almost 10 years. 4 different location. I was so worried I was going to be a lifer. So this was my only way out.(not really, but that was a big joke of us Kings long-timers)

I contacted the Dominican consulate in Philly and made a few friends there. I put my mobil home up for sale. Started selling off stuff I didn't need. Making lots of jewelry(that's what I did for some extra money after I closed my business) Sorting through my accumulated junk. Funny how I got all the junk. I kept adding more junk but didn't want to get rid of the old junk. So I bought a little bigger house so I could fit more junk. I built my own shelving so I could display all the stuff. I had a small shed out back bu had to tare that down to make room for a new and improved shed with a loft and work bench so I had room for all my tools and movers and rodatillers and all the boxes of stuff that I didn't want to get rid of but really didn't want to look at either. Its hard to belivev all the junk one can accumulate in a short time.

I was looking at things in my home town in a different light. Like it was going to be the last time I saw these things. Things did look prettier. The sun rise and sets were brighter. The green of the leaves were more vibrant. But the snow was still as cold and I realized how much I did hate being cold.

The most difficult things to sell was my camping gear. I loved to camp and I had all the gear organized in alphabetical order(that's what my friends used to tease me about).The week before I put them up for sale my aunt flew in from Chicago to make the last camping trip with me. Then it was in the paper and sold within a week. All gone for $500usd. A nice lady came with her truck and we started packing up. I was telling her all about what was there she was getting. I started crying. She felt so bad she offered not to buy the stuff. I had to sell it and she seemed nice so it was going to a good home.As she drove off with my most treasured stuff I cried. There was no turning back. I couldn't live in USA without camping and be happy.

My tools sold fast also. My electric saws. Chain saw. Rodatiller. Sanders. All went fast. This was difficult also. I was so proud of my work shop. All my tools in order on the peg board. Every nail and screw in order on the shelf by size and labled nicely. After these things went everything else was easy.

I got a stall at the Flea and was there every Sunday selling all my collected belongings.
Then the 9/11 thing happened. People went crazy. At my job customers were telling me I was abandoning my country. Some would not even sit at my tables. Before 9/11 people were interested in my moving, how it was coming along, why I was doing this, all was good. After 9/11 I was the bad guy. I was abandoning my country. I was a tractor. Even tho I had already sold half of my belongings before the attacks.I had one very large fireman almost physically attack me over his table. My manager had to take me to the bacl of the restaurant to calm down.

I was ready to fight the guy. I could have beat his fat butt, I know it! LOL!
It was time to move out on my place. I was moving in with mommy and daddy for the last month so I could pay up all my bills and get rid of my house. I was working a second waitress job at night to make more money. My son came in from Louisiana, where he was living that month, to spend me last month in USA with me. And I was giving him my truck and lots of good stuff for his apartment. It was great that he came to see me. Who would have ever known that this would be the last time I would ever see my son Billy Jay again.

Come back later for more of the story. Back to work on the web site.......

My big idea to move to Dominican Republic

I had visited Dominican Republic 3 times before. Once to Punta Cana with friends then the other 2 times alone to Santo Domingo. All within a years time.(2000)
I completely fell in love with the country and couldn't stop talking about it or thinking about it. I bought some books to learn Spanish. Bought Latin music CD's and listened to them constantly. I went to my waitress job and tried to talk Spanish to my customers. Most put up with me but others would yell at me and tell me that I was in USA and to speak English. This made me more determined to learn something that most around the small town area I lived had no desire to learn.
I worked extra hours whenever I could get them. Went to the flea market when I could and sold my jewelry I made and whatever things I had left over from my Sun-N-Moon Native Creations store that I closed down the year before. Saved up my money so I could go on vacations to DR.
On the 4th visit I got the idea that maybe I should just move to DR instead of working so hard for just a week here and a week there. I was to the point where all I thought about was what life would be like living there. I was staying in an apart hotel near the presidential palace in Gazcue. I decided I would walk to the American embassy and see what I needed to do to be able to move there.
I really didn't know where the embassy was but I had a general idea. I started out on my treks. It was hot and I was walking for a long time so I decided to head toward a little cafeteria where I made friends with the ladies that worked there. I had my lunch and enjoyed trying to communicate with my friends. One of the regular lunch guys was a taxi driver and he said he'd drive me to the embassy free so I took the offer.
He left me in front of the compound. This was pre 9/11 so there was just normal security around the place. I walked a while to find the gate. There was a little guard house and a Dominican man came out and said I couldn't enter. I tried to tell him I needed to talk to someone about moving to DR. I had no idea what he was telling me but I was very persistent.
He would not let me in. He called another man over and he tried to tell me I was not permitted in. I kept saying that I was American and wanted to talk to someone. I didn't have a passport at the time so I couldn't prove I was American which really wouldn't have mattered anyhow.
Finally the guard got on the phone and called someone to talk to me in English. The lady said that I needed to go to the consulate to get what I needed and she told me how to get there and which window to go to. Said bye to the guards and walked on trying to find the consulate.
When I did find it I couldn't believe it. It was outside and had windows with letters on them where you had to talk to the people. So I got in the line. I got to the front and they checked my purse. They wouldn't let me in! I had a camera in my purse! I tried to tell the lady to keep the camera til I was finished but she didn't speak English and I finally figured out that she was telling me there was a little door down the walk around the corner and there was police and they could hold my camera for me.
I was getting very frustrated by this time. It was hot and I was all sticky and miserable. So I went around the corner and around the next corner and finally ended up back at the gate of the consulate. There was no door that I could see! I asked again and thought I figured out where they were telling me to go and set off again.
No damn door!!!
By this time I was just thanking God that I had sun glasses on because this way no one could see me crying out of sheer frustration. I had enough. I had spent most of the day trying to get this information and I had nothing but a headache and heart pulpitations from holding in my anger.
I realized I was near a friends house in Cuidad Universaria near Lincoln. So I went to the phone and tried to call him. It took me a while to figure out how to use the pay phone which made me cry more. And as I was mumbling not nice words To myself I finally got the phone to work. My friend answered and told me to come over to his house right away.
By the time I got there Alex had already ordered me a few grande Presidente beers to ease my nerves. That beer tasted sooo good. He and his brother,Warren cooked me some Venezuelan food(they are from Venezuela. I met the Warren on the computer and we are still friends). They had a good laugh at my expense when I told my story. I had no idea that this was the norm when trying to accomplish anything in Dominican Republic.
They called my friend Carlos to come for me. He finally showed up to take me to the Colmado, to get some food and then back to the hotel.
That day was the start of me not letting the country beat me down. I loved the place more. It was the challenge maybe. Who knows. That day I was so frustrated yet my friends were there for me. They made all OK. And for sure they understood and explained to me that this is the way of life here in DR. Everything you do takes forever to accomplish. It is very frustrating. But this is life and the life style of everyday living makes up for the moments of frustration.
Note** I never did get the information I wanted. I waited until I returned to USA and called the Dominican Consulate in Philly. The people there were great and helped me get myself and my dog to finally live in Dominican Republic.
Bless their hearts!

The Shuckin' Beauty Salon

I decided to go to a real beauty salon to wash the grey outta my hair. Mamita, my closest girlfriend in Dominican Republic, said there is a good and cheap salon near her home. So off I go to Mamitas on a Sunday so we both can go to the salon.
We sat outside on the patio and watched for when it was a good time to go. There is a cafeteria place connected to the salon. The salon owner own both places.
When we decided the time was right to head across the street and up a few houses we headed out. The salon was open in the front to the street with some people hanging out and kids running about.

Of course they didn't speak English in this salon so, with Mamitas help, we decided what color to make my hair. It took some discussion because for Dominicans it does take time, first you have to discuss the issue at hand. then decide the what ifs. For example, what if the color comes out wrong, what if it doesn't take, wonder how long it will take before the grey shows again,what if whe power goes out, and so on. Finally after much discussion I sit in the chair. The beautician gets the goop on my head.

There are a few people in the cafeteria drinking beer by this time. I'm not used to people watching me sit in a salon and getting my hair done. But it really didn't matter. The man sent a beer for me into the salon! I didn't care if he sat and watched with his mouth hanging open if he was sending beers.

I never had a beer sitting in a beauty salon before. We had already had a few, the girls and I, before the man started sending them over. We were drinking a little slower than he was sending so we just kept putting them in the fridge. There was about 5 of us plus the beautician all enjoying the bien frias.

I was watching Mamita getting her hair done when in comes this hugh burlap bag of peas. The bag opens, bowls are brought in, and we ladies in the salon commence to shucking peas. I haven't shucked a pea in many years and here was a whole sack of them just waiting for to be shucked! And I NEVER shucked a pea while sitting in a beauty salon with dye on my head drinking a beer trying to understand what everyone was talking about! And I didn't even have me camera with me.

I had so much fun. I never enjoyed a salon experience so much in my life. We ladies sat there and talked and shucked those peas so the cafeteria could cook them for dinner. Mamita and I did take a shuckin, break to go and eat some lunch. With towels on our heads Mamita and I enjoyed our lunch. I can remember I had Liver with the tomato sauce, rice and beans and some warm potato salad. All very good and necessary because those beers kept coming.

Most of the peas were husked. Both Mamitas and my hair was grey-less and trimmed. We were feeling like we looked our old beautiful selves again(LOL!).Many beers were drunken out of our little plastic glasses and bottles returned. Thanks given to the man that supplied us with our imbibiation (plus we had a few to walk back across the street with us. Of course, we had to have something to drink while sitting on the porch). My $300 pesos paid for my new do. The day was a good one.

I had another new experience in my wonderful new country, Dominican Republic