The Christmas Thief

I haven't written a story for a while. I have been working hard on the web site just incase I get to return to DR soon. I won't be able to work on the web site for a while when I return until I get a place to stay and all the internet connected. So I'm trying to get the site ready to be left on its own for a time.
Anyhow..on with the story...
I was working hard making jewelry and trying to sell it because of Christmas. My back was a bit bad again. I couldn't get out to the galeria everyday because I just couldn't walk the 5 blocks. It was even difficult getting to the Colmado on the other end on my block.
I had taken a pain pill and muscle relaxer to get to sleep that evening. I don't take that stuff much, it was meds I brought from USA with me over a year ago just incase a bad back thing happened.
Now, here's where the stupid Gringa part comes in... I left my balcony door open much of the time. Sniffy (the blind dog) liked to go out there to look over the balcony. I don't know what she thought she saw but she liked it. She also went to the bathroom out there. I left the door open even when I went away so she could go out there. I never had a problem. I couldn't imagine how someone could climb up the wall. Maybe spiderman, but he wouldn't steal from me would he?
So I'm stupid, I had the door open when I was in a drug induced slumber. It was Christmas time when thieves are out in droves. Dumb stupid dumb me.
The morning sun rose. Sniffy came up on the bed to say good morning as usual. Typical day. I did my little back stretches and got up. Made a cup of coffee, did the bathroom visit and went to have a cig. The cigs weren't where I thought I left them. I had one before I turned off the computer the night before and left them on the desk. Dumb me, I must have put them in my purse sitting on the milk crate (that was one of my fine pieces of home decor,very retro and quite lovely I must say). They were not there. I know I had the Daaahhhh look on my face. Not quite awake. Holding my cup of coffee.
Then I noticed my cell phone. Or should I say I noticed my cell phone was gone. The electric cord was there but the phone was gone. I glanced around the room and the portable CD player was gone also. Only the lonely cord left behind. And my duffel bag I have ready at all times for going to the beach. My beach things on the ready inside...gone. The little box where I kept my cedula, US drivers license (expired) and money ($100 pesos and $2 US Dollars - I had no money in my purse, as usual) was emptied. I had left it open the night before. Nothing else seemed to be touched.
I did a quick inventory of my jewelry hanging on a wooden hanger I made, hanging directly above where my purse was. All there. My tools, dremel, silver wire, was laying out. All there.
I had to think about this. I got a new pack of cigs from the drawer and went to light one. The lighter was gone. I always have a back up so I got it and went to the balcony to have my coffee and a cig and a serious discussion with my vicious attack dog.
I brought her with me from USA. Took care of her through her car wreck and eye loss. Walk her and be her seeing eye human. But, could she tell me that there was a human entering the house when I was sleeping...NOOOOOO! Do I feed her and clothe her in the finest bandanas? But can she warn me when someone takes my things? Still gotta love her as she was doing the horseshoe (nose to butt, going in circles and smiling. it's a happy position for her), happily wagging her tail and talking back in her dog talk, as I was asking her these why questions on the balcony.
Nothing really valuable was gone. Then I started thinking about what was in my purse. It hit me about the most valuable thing I lost. Inside the purse was about 6 pictures. They were given to me by my sons girlfriend. They were taken about a week before he died. He looked so good and happy. His girlfriend, his dog and himself playing on the sofa. These pictures were in my purse. They were gone. I had to think of something.
So I got cleaned up and Sniffy and I went to the street. Sniffy and I walked a ways on the Malecon (which was not easy with my back being very unhappy) looking to the sides of the streets and in the grass, maybe someone threw the stuff they couldn't use away. I walked down to the nasty polluted beach behind the statue of Montecino. I told everyone. All my neighbors. The guy that washes the cars in the street. I said that I only wanted the pictures back and I would pay for them. I even played detective and asked suspicious looking people for a light for my cigs. I was seeing if anyone had my lighter (it had a leather cover I made on it so I would recognize it). I thought I was being really slick on that one!
Anyhow. Nothing turned up. Later I realized that there was 10 pounds of white sugar missing also. I bought it to make candy.
Form that day on I didn't sleep with my door open. Poor Sniffy had to get used to that. She ran into the door thinking it was open a few times before she learned. Her poor nose. I kept on the look out for the robber. The lighter would have been used up. All evidence gone. Except for one thing. The poor robber had to turn blind the night he robbed me.
You see, I slept naked that night. It was hot and the power went out so there was no fan. I have no idea if I had a sheet covering me. My apartment was a studio. You could see my bed easily when in the main room. So I figured, if the robber saw me naked he would instantly turn blind. This is probably why he didn't steal more from me. Instant loss of his sight. I'm sure his spiderman skills were very hampered with the loss of his eyes! I told my friends and neighbors to look for a newly blind man and this would be my robber.
I never got my things back but having the neighborhood looking for the blind man got me lots of laughs and brought a little humor this bad happening!

How do Dominicans celebarte Christmas?

Getting back to my life in DR

Present time first:
I have been working on the web site everyday for hours and hours. I still have so much more I need to add and fix and change. It's a neverending piece of work. I never realized that making a web site with good info was so time consuming. In a few days I will have had the web site on line for 1 year. When I look at all the time I spent working on it and writing all the text and researching for unique things to add. And I only have about 130 pages! Seems like there should be so many more. Oh..I have been working on a map of the Colonial Zone. Check it out!
Oh well, what is this old Gringa to do? If things go as planned I'll be returning to DR soon and will have a partner so there can be much more good stuff added to a web site to make it so informative that when you want to go to the Colonial Zone area of Dominican Republic you will not need to look any further than the my web site. And when people get to the Zone they will want to call me to give them my famous Colmado - Presidente tasting tour of the Colonial Zone!
The past:
I returned back to Dominican Republic. I was happy to get back home. I wanted to see my dog, Sniffy. I really missed her. I needed a hug from her. She was such a good hugger.
My X-Boyfriend, good friend forever, picked me up at the airport. We dropped of my luggage and he drove me up to the Galeria and dropped me off. I had to get my Sniffy and see Mamita and Jimmy.
Sniffy stayed at the Galeria all week. She had to sleep on the back patio, which she was not used to. She never was chained outside or had to sleep outside without her mommy. They had to make the place so there wasn't anything she could run into or hurt herself on(since she was blind and didn't know that area). In the day Jimmy took her into the office and she sat with him. But at night she was all alone.
I was so excited to see her. When I walked in I didn't speak. Mamita was telling me to whisper. We wanted to see if Sniffy would know I was there. I walked to the back of the Galeria to the office area. She was laying down next to Jimmy. I walked softly toward her. She lifted her head and came at me! Se started crying. Loud! She was yelling at me the way she always does when I leave her, even if it is for a few minutes. She had to jump around, kissing me. Barking a little also. I sure missed my Sniffy when I was away.
It seemed that she missed me also. Mamita said the neighbors told her that at night Sniffy spent the night howling. Like a Wolf they said. I soft, mournful, howl. With a wailing sound mixed in. They were happy when I returned and took her home.
She loves walking around the Zone. People know her name more than they know mine. If I don't have her when I take a walk at least a few people ask me where is my dog. Noone ever asks where I was if they didn't see me for a few days. Only where is my dog! LOL!
When I was leaving the Galeria to take Sniffy home many people did ask me that day how I was. News spreads fast in the Colonial Zone. Even though it is a tourist town it is still a small community. The neighbors are people that have lived there, many for years and some for generations seems that everyone knows everyone. I never lived in a city or neighborhood where everyone knew everyone so this was new to me. Anyhow...It seemed that most people knew about my son dying. Even if they did not know him they were all so nice to me.
One of my good friend neighbors, Cesar (the Chimmi guy) and his wife Clau, gave me flowers every Sunday for about 2 months. I love my neighborhood. Even though I don't live there anymore I still love that place. I hope, when I return, that I can find a place to live in the same area. It is my home and I'm comfortable there.

A Mothers Worst Nightmare

Billy Jay Memories

October 25th, 2003. This day 3 years ago was one of the worst days of my life. The death of my son, my baby boy, Billy Jay. He was 23 years old. I guess he will always be 23 years old now. No matter how many birthdays pass.

Billy Jay always had problems, issues as the world calls it now. I hate that when people say someone has issues. Everyone has some issues. Anyhow, Billy Jay had substance abuse problems that he just couldn't seem to fight. No matter how much all who loved him tried to help. Nothing worked. Yet he lived his life to the fullest. He had more adventures, both good and bad, than most people have had in their entire lives. He always kept a captivated audience with his adventure stories. All true. His short 23 years of live was filled with love, adventure, happiness and close friends. But it was also shrouded in trauma, sorrow and emptiness.

The evening he died, I did not know until the following day. I was at a friends home, Mamita and Jimmy's place. It was a Saturday. I wasn't feeling well so I left early. The cab we called, I knew the driver. He was a friend of mine. I got my dog and the 3 of us sat in the park in front of my apartment. Had a few beers and shared stories. I told him about my son and some of my little adventures. He went back to work and I went to my apartment. Early for a Saturday night.

In the morning on a lazy Sunday, Sniffy (my dog) and I were just laying in the bed. Thinking of which direction we would go for our traditional Sunday walk-friend finding adventure when the cell phone rang. It came up unknown number, which I usually wouldn't answer. But I answered, I don't know why.

A woman's voice on the other end asked for Mrs. Keys. I told her it was Miss Keys and yes, it was me. She proceeded to ask me if I knew a William Keys. My first thought was what did he do now. She told me we have your son. My brain was still a little fuzzy from sleep. I remember I asked her what she meant. First thought he was arrested for something stupid again, like sleeping in a park like before. She said "This is the Allegheny County Coroners Office and we have your son".

I had to think. I couldn't think. I asked her to repeat herself. I asked her "What are you telling me? My son is there? Dead?" she said I'm sorry but yes. I remember a sensation came over my body. Like a numbness just took over and sucked all feeling out of my body. Like even the emotion was gone. Blank feeling. So hard to describe. Was this real? Was I awake? Who would play such a crude trick on me? I asked her for her name and number and said I would call her right back. this I did right away and she answered. I asked her again what she told me.

It was real.

She told me the sketchy details. He was found about 7:30PM in the woods near some railroad tracks in Pittsburgh PA. I don't remember exactly what she told me of the exact sequence of events. All is fuzzy to me. I know I called my mother in PA to tell her and ask her to call the coroner again to make sure it was real. I don't remember crying just yet. Just not feeling. Too numb.
I called Mamita and Jimmy. Told them what happened. I just had to talk to someone while I was waiting to hear from my mom with the news. They came to my apartment within the ½ hour just to sit with me. I never even asked them. In the meantime I really needed a cig. I went to the Colmado. I didn't have any money. I didn't remember to take any. The guy in the Colmado asked me what was wrong. I couldn't even think of the words in Spanish to say but I think he understood because a few of my neighbors came by within that hour to see if I needed anything.

My mom called back She had already called my cousin, Josh, to go and see if it for sure was Billy Jay. Identify the body even though its only a picture that you identify. She was getting me a ticket to return to USA for later that day.

I called a friend, x boyfriend, sometime this day for I don't know what reason but he said he would take me to the airport. Mamita took Sniffy to stay with her while I was gone. I really don't remember flying on the air plane at all. I try to remember but I just can't. Most of the time in USA, that week, fades in and out still.

Billy Jay, once so full of life, was found face down near some railroad tracks. His dogs leash in his hand. The dog set free for some unknown reason. His backpack was with him. His notebook inside. He always had his notebook with him to write some poem or draw some picture that was floating in his creative head. My phone number was in this book, this is how they knew to call me. He had some change in his pocket and his wallet which contained a receipt for a McDonalds breakfast he and his girlfriend had together before she went to work. Maybe that breakfast sandwich was his last meal.

He died easily, the coroner said. Time of death was around 4PM. He was found about 730PM. He just slipped of in a sleep. They said this because he died face down. They said a suicide is face up. Under his body was the needle and plastic bag that held the death potion that took my boy.

I had him cremated. We had a memorial service for him. There was over 100 people there. People I didn't even know. Family and friends. Everyone so supportive. Many of us wore red, Billy Jays favorite color. I don't remember much of the service. People told me I shook through the entire thing. I don't remember. A few days later we took his ashes to the lake where he loved so much and set him free there. His grandparents, great grandparents, his school friends, his girlfriend and a few newer friends all showed up. We said good-bye to Billy Jay remembering funny stories and some of the crazy things he did.

His girlfriend gave me some pictures and some of his belongings. In the bag was a paper from his rehab he has just got out of a week before. On his list of things he wanted to achieve was 1) to get through Halloween clean (since it was his favorite holiday), 2) To get back close with his family (he stayed away from all when he was using), 3) To visit his mom is Dominican Republic (I told him if he stayed clean he could come and live with me. The family was buying him a ticket to visit me that Christmas. Billy Jay never made it).

Sometimes I can feel his presence. Two times I heard him call Mom. I can remember his calling me so distinctly. I can remember what his hugs feel like. His 6'7" body hugging tight. He was the best hugger. He always hugged. I can hear his deep voice saying to me "I love you Mommy",
tilting his head to the side just a little bit as he said this. I called him Baby Boy and he called me Mommy.

All I have are the pictures, videos, and memories. All memories, good and bad, seem to turn good when someone is gone. I try to never say he was or I had a son. I try to say I have and always will have a son. He is always my son. He is always with me. Even if he is not here physically.

Your Mommy loves you Billy Jay, my baby boy. I think of you and miss you every day, every minute, of my life. I try not to cry when I think and speak of you. I try to smile and remember all the good. I know this is how you would want to be remembered. With a smile and a laugh, never a tear.

Please check out the link to see the Billy Jay Memories site. A picture gallery of my sons life. If you open the drawings and handwritten items toward the bottom of the page you can some of Billy Jays art. Also the memorial contert flyer. Herion Awarness group and his friends did this in Memory of Keys. , the name his friends called him. This is a picture of the railroad tracks near where he was found.

People in the Street -"The Dance of the Dog" Lady

The people in the street are always very colorful humans. I love just sitting and watching them pass by me. Observing what they are doing. I never really lived in a large city where there are so many different people before. A big thrill for my son and myself was to go to Pittsburgh on Saturdays. We went to the strip District (the market area) and walked around. Trying different foods in the street. Going into different markets and talking to people. I wanted him to know a bit more about the world than I did. We talked to people, a Sikh man with a turban on his head. My son asked questions about why he wore that. An Italian man that ran a market. My son would ask all about the fruits and veggies and help put them out in the bins. We sat and listened to the music and watched the people. He even liked talking to the homeless people.
So my point is, that I was never really exposed to city life. To city people. So if I tell a story and it seems like an everyday event to some, it was an amazement to me.

The "Dance of the Dog" Lady or as Mamita says "Bailar de la Perra"
When I went to the galeria everyday to help Mamita out and make a little money here and there selling my jewelry I make I got to observe many people in the street. The same people passing by everyday. Saying hello. Going to their work or just taking a walk. The tigres in the street and the tourists. The tourists, almost all, did and said the same things as they passed by in the street. Everyday someone took a picture of the electric lines on Calle Isabel la Catolica. I know I did when I was a tourist.

But there is a woman that lives nearby. She is usually dressed decently. She does not live on the street. She is always clean and very opinionated in her view of politics. She has a passion for politics. She also has a dislike for people from USA. It is not that obvious when you see her normally. She says nothing but you can see it in her eyes. When she is drinking this is a whole other story. About 2 times a month, maybe 3 she gets a bit out of control. She frightened me at first. She would yell at everyone in the streets. Especially the people she did not know. She even got a little aggressive at times. Getting in peoples faces. A few times she was in mine.Some friends came and distracted her so I could get away. The lady may be skinny but she could probably take me in a fight! So when she was drinking I stayed away.

Mamita and I would watch her and her antics in the street. The others working in the surrounding galerias would be watching from their doorways as well when they had no customers. This dancing lady was known for her dance of the dog. She would get out in the middle of the street, a few times making cars stop and wait for her. Then she would start the dance. If you cannot picture what this dance looks like, imagine 2 dogs going at it, doggie style. When this lady was upset about something she did her dance, alone (thank goodness) in the street. She really went at it too. If I did that "dance" my back would not be very happy. She not only did the dance but she accompanied it with howling. She would be yelling out what she was angry with but it came out like a howl. So this really completed the whole "dance" effect.

After a time she decided she liked me. She would hug me and call me her friend from Spain. Even though I am from USA I let her think whatever she wanted. I enjoyed watching her and listening to her rant and rave. I also enjoyed watching others watching her. Especially the tourists. Most would pass as far from her as they could. I think many got brush burns from rubbing against the walls of the buildings trying to pass by her from as far away as they could possibly get. Then there were others that would just enjoy her antics. One man went in the street with her and did the dance, side by side mind you, not the normal dance of the dog position (again, thank goodness). We who were observing all clapped for him and had a good laugh.

The "Dance of the Dog" Lady is just one of the many colorful people in the Zone. There is always something to see.

United States (Thinks) They Have Claims on the Term America

This has really bothered me when I started learning about other cultures and peoples. Why does the people of the United States call their country America? Why are they (we) known the world over as Americans. It just does not make sense to me and it bothers me.
I know there are more important problems in the world to worry about. This really doesn't matter, but it still bothers me. I am really trying to stop calling USA America, it is not easy. It still slips out sometimes before I catch myself. Since there is more than 1 America I don't understand why the US has the monopoly on the word. And yes, for the United States humans that think the world is all about them and that United States is all that counts in the scheme of things, there is more than one America. What a revelation. .
There is North, Central And South America. They are all the Americas. I'm not really up on my geography stuff. How many countries are in the American? (I just answered my own question and did a search. So for yours and mine information - if you care here it is. There are 12 countries and 3 territories in South America, 14 countries and 12 territories in the Caribbean, 7 countries in Central America, and 3 in North America = 36 countries and 15 territories in "The Americas") So why does the United States get the right to call themselves Americans?
I have posted this on a few forums but it still bothers me when I hear people say "I'm from America" or "The American people..." when referring to US of A. There has to be another name. Can't say North America (North American) because this includes Canada and Mexico. Can we be called United Statesians? Or maybe in Spanish estados unidano or estados unidana, depending on gender? Saying United Stated of American is just to long. I have been trying to come up with a word because (the word) American must go!!

If anyone has ideas please send them> I will for sure publish the comments/replies. Just as long as they are not completely rude.

The Little Old Veggie Man - Views From My Balcony

He is a little hunched over
For sure someone's grandfather and I'm sure a great grandfather also
Pushing a cart laden with many vivid colors
Beautifully laid out
Meticulously arranged
Proud of his beautifully arranged veggies
He had a high pitched whistle as he passed
To get the attention of his clientele
It worked!
I just had to stand on the balcony.
He always saw me.
Waved and smiled
He waited for the yes or no nod from me
The no nod he would wave and go on his way whistling,
The yes nod he waited until I descended the stairs
Many times very slowly
On my bad back days he would bring what I wanted up to me.
He always asked how I was
Asked about my dog and gave her a pat when saw her.
Told me what veggies were the best and put what I wanted in a bag.
Some days when I did not have money he would let me pay later
His cart looked so heavy for his old frail looking body
No rubber tires to make it run smoother
or for his old bones to absorb the shock
But I never saw him waver in his pushing
I felt guilty sometimes that I was such a cripple and he with such energy
Rain, Sun and Humidity, It did not matter
Bringing our neighborhood fresh produce
The Old Veggie Man was always there


More street vendors and some pictures

Peepee Showing

ATTENTION: This post may not be appropriate for all readers. It has references to the male organ.
This is some of my comedy act...if I had a comedy act and was a comedian ..this would be part of my comedy act.
I am amazed how men like showing others their private part.
The first time I was exposed, literally, to this strange male event was when I was about 17 and traveling back and forth to Atlanta Georgia from Pittsburgh PA. I got off the interstate in West Virginia to get some gas for my VW Beetle late at night. There was a car pulled over near the entrance ramp and this man was standing, pants around his ankles, holding his...ahh..peepee, facing my direction. I was so shocked as I passed him. I had never seen a strangers peepee just being held out in the open in the flesh before. It made me laugh.
That same day I was in Atlanta, Smyrna to be exact,heading to a friends house to stay for a few days until I got me an apartment. On a small bridge before I got there a man was standing in the middle of the bridge. I went slow because I didn't know what he was doing. He turned and he had his "best friend" in his hand walking right towards me! I was just as shocked as the first time. 2 peepees shown to me in such a manner within a 24 hour period. Should I have felt blessed? Did I have a "show me your peepee sticker" on my car?
The other two times in Atlanta I was helping a French clothing designer show his designs at an opening of a bar. After the event we went back to his place. We were to be going to another showing but he wanted to stop off. He wanted to measure me for more clothes. I wouldn't do it. He was drinking and I wouldn't while he was drunk. He came at me with his buddy out! I was so shocked I started laughing at him. I went outside and he wouldn't let me back in. I had to hitchhike (some nice person told me I was going the wrong direction), I had no idea how to get back to my car. But I made it. Another time it was 4AM and I had just finished work at a bar in Buckhead called Billy's. A friend that owned a nice suit type bar took me there so we could shoot some pool. He started drinking tequila. Next thing he wanted me right there on the pool table so I left to my car. He came out with his "friend" in his hand begging me to come back. The sun was just starting to come up and this was right along Peach Tree St. It seemed he was trying to wash my windshield with his "squeegee" He was doing a very bad job and when he got far enough away from the car I drove away. I could see him fade into the morning fog still holding on to his friend for dear life. (cleaning the mess off the windshield the next afternoon was not that easy so if someone offers to use their bodily fluids to wash your window I would definitely decline the offer). Both of the men apologized to me later while I laughed remembering. I got to keep the outfit I was wearing of the designers too.
In Dominican Republic many years later, after I had moved there and had my little apartment in Ench. Julietta the peepee shows started again much to my surprise.
The first was a man I went to dinner with. We had been out a few different times but never kissed or even talked anything other than friends. He walked into my apartment to have a glass of water before he left. He was leaning against the wall. I turned with the glass of water and he was holding his "boy" in his hand looking at it like he was a proud father. I was so shocked and asked what he was doing with that. He asked if I liked it. I told him it was beautiful and burst out laughing. It was just too funny. He put it away and it was never discussed again and we are acquaintances still.
The next man I will call "Honey" I met him while I was on vacation over a year before I moved to DR and we knew each other a little. He rode me and Sniffy (my dog) home from a Colmado we had walked to. It was late afternoon. He was leaning against my sink in the kitchen when he grabbed my bottle of honey, opened his zipper, pulled his "wand" out and commenced pouring honey all over it. I calmly asked him what he was doing. He said I could lick it off. I laughed so hard that I started snorting. Yes, I snort when I laugh hard. His poor little piece of magic shrunk up in a second. I handed him a wash cloth to remove the honey. Guess he didn't do a good job because for the next 10 minutes or so he was trying to make his escape, and I kept talking. He was pulling at his groin area. He finally said he was all sticky. I laughed during his walk down the sidewalk, him entering his car, and pretty much that whole night. I still laugh thinking of his face every time he tried to arrange himself because he was all sticky.
The next was with a group of friends. We had been drinking whisky. The guy was too skinny and it didn't take him long to get too happy. He and I were in the back seat heading to our next destiny. We stopped and were getting out. He took my hand and set it on his...EEOOWW! flesh. I didn't see it because it was dark and so was he. I pulled my hand away and told him that it was very nice and he should be really proud of it. Got out of the car and went and sat with the others. I told them what just happened. We all were laughing. It took him a while to get out of the car. Guess he had to wait for "the swelling to go down". We laughed at him all night. He supposedly does not remember a thing.
One was a guy coming to repair my computer. After he was finished I asked him how much money I owed him. He told me it was OK. He didn't want anything. He sat on my sofa and pulled out his "bill". I guess he thought that was going to be his payment, me taking care of that for him. I laughed and called my dog over to take a look, even thought she was blind "Sniffy, mira eso. ¡Toma!". He zipped that thing up so fast he caught his flesh in the zipper. Poor guy. I gave him $100 pesos and let him out. He never looked back.
Another was a fine dressed, handsome, older gentleman. I met him dancing a few times and he took me home. He had to see me to the door as he had done before. I gave him a little kiss good bye and felt something "pop" out. His zipper was open and it did just pop out. He looked at it so lovingly, so passionately that I thought he was just going to take care of himself right there. He was for sure enamored by this hunk of flesh in his hand. I just smiled, thanked him for the night, pretended I saw nothing and closed the door.
I just do not understand the need to show peepees. What exactly is a woman supposed to do when a man shows his so-called manliness? Are we to get all excited and jump up and down clapping? Give it a kiss? Say "oh yes, that is an exquisite piece"? Give it a little pat on the head (LOL)? I just do not know what the reaction that is expected of a woman when one exposes himself in such a manor. Really, that piece of flesh is nice at the right moment. But not just hanging there like that. Out of context. And to place my honey on that, that is just wrong. What did he think, I was going to just be so happy that he wasted my good honey and made my floor all sticky. Did he really think I would lick it off for him? He didn't even wash it first!
I have found that the laughing thing is the best way for me to handle it (or not to "handle it"). This way it lightens up the situation. Lets the situation become "deflated". Act as if I saw nothing, which is usually the case.

A Lynching

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic night life, Dining and Drinking
More and more You see in the Dominican newspapers (example Celebrate killing of mugger by drinking and dancing that people are taking the law into their own hands. It happened before but it seems to me to be reported more these days. Maybe because of the law about the alcohol selling places not being permitted to sell alcohol after midnight (2 on weekends). Maybe its because the crime rate has risen. Or could it just be the media or government wanting focus brought on their issues. Whatever the reason its in the papers I'm happy about it.
I'm glad when people take a stand and take the law into control when the people that are supposed to be taking care of enforcing the law don't do it, or can't do it. I like when the people do it. It makes the criminals maybe think a little more before they commit a crime. Maybe.
Anyhow...back to my story. On Sundays I usually went walking to unknown regions with my best friend, the blind wonder dog Sniffy. I wasn't feeling like walking really because my back had been hurting bad. But I hadn't taken her out for even a little walk in days. Only to the park to take care of her business and to the local Colmado. And I did promise her to take her on a walk. I have o keep my promises especially to my best friend. So we started off. Made a left out the apartment door and headed toward the basketball court and was going to head up to Colon Park area.
As we were just passing a little Colmado a group of men were running towards us. There had to be at least 20, probably more. A motor bike was in the lead of these men and a man was running out ahead of them. I was standing on the sidewalk watching these guys running, coming from the basketball area. A lady I always said hi to came to her door and motioned me to get into the Colmado and she pointed to the lone guy in the lead with a look of danger on her face. I did not hesitate and Sniffy and I went into the Colmado. The patrons of the Colmado were blocking the doorway so we had to push our way into the place as they stood in the doorways watching what was coming up the street.
I had no idea what was going on and tried to ask the man working in the Colmado, who I knew, what was happening as I also asked for a beer to drink since I was there. He ignored me and went to the door with the rest of the crowd. Another lady I knew told me and as best as I could understand. The man on the motor bike and the lead running man stole a cell phine from a guy playing basketball. The man on foot was the grabber and he was to jump on the back of the bike after the grab. Well, I guess the men in the basketball court got to the grabber before he made it to the bike. They were off after him. The driver fled ahead of the grabber on foot and left him. So all the men in the basketball court and the onlookers went after the Grabber.
As the group of chasers passed by the Colmado a man on a bicycle was in the lead and almost had the Grabber.
They had made it past the Colmado by now. All the onlookers were making their way into the middle of the street to get a better look at what was about to happen. All the dogs on the neighborhood were barking along with my Sniffy. She didn't see but she did hear the noise of the yelling angry mob that was in the street. I had to go and peek out the door and have a look. But before I did I went and helped myself to a beer since the workers were too busy seeing what was happening.
I went to the doorway to watch since it was clear because everyone else was in the street watching. The Grabber was overtaken. The bicycle guy pushed him down and he was quickly overtaken. I couldn't see what was happening because the Grabber was surrounded and his head disappeared so I knew he was down in the street being beaten unmercifully.
Then they were all coming back. I noticed a few sticks and a baseball bat in the group. They had the Grabber, holding on to him, his feet were not touching the ground. He didn't look in very good shape at all. They all went back to the basketball court and down the hill. Most of the people in the Colmado followed. The worker guys returned to their post and I got Sniffy her little bag of water and her plastic cup to drink it out of along with her piece of bread (pan de auga). I was all curious about what was happening but it was like the moment passed and it was over. As if it was a normal happening and no big deal. I wanted details of the event but it seemed that it just wasn't important to anyone.
I kept watching out the door to see the observers at street lever watching down into the basketball court. I wanted to go look but I didn't know what would happen and with Sniffy being blind she gets a little nervous in large wild crowds.
So I finished my beer as many of the people filtered back into the Colmado. About a half hour later 5 men passed holding up a bloody faced man heading up to the police station at the Alcazar. They were going to give him to the police I guess. This the third passing of the mob, although much smaller, didn't even get a glance by the Colmado crowd.
So I paid for Sniffy and my drinks and we continued our walk up the hill to Colon Park and continued on with the day as usual.

Dominicans- Herd travelers?

Dominican Republic Transportation
Do Dominicans travel in herds? Or would it better be called a gaggle?
If you have ever gone any place with a Dominican you will agree, in general, Dominicans travel in herds. If its going to the beach, to a bar or to a park or friends home to just hang out. There is always more than 1. Always.
I have had so many experiences with this. It used to REALLY bother me. Now it just bothers me a little, sometimes. I was always used to, when going on a trip, to get things ready before the trip. Have the oil and gas tank filled. Have all necessary items ready to go. Including humans.
Almost every trip I have gone on with Dominicans, most of the time it is the same.
Going to the beach. I say leave early so we can hang out there all day and then get home before dark. For me early is about 8 or 9 in the AM. I have never figured out what the real meaning of early is in Dominican Republic. So anyhow, I wait. I call. The driver is just getting out of bed. He has to stop at his mothers house before he comes. Then he has to get some dumb thing done that he could do anytime, not on the day we had planned to go on a trip.
The wait is not that long. About 2 hours. He arrives with 2 people I don't know. His sister and her friend. That's fine. Its just the beach. Then they have no cooler for ice and they ask me to cook some food to take. ME? COOK? No way. When I go to the beach I want to eat there. Not be bothered with the role of the domestic and feed and clean up crap. I don't do that.
That out of the way. We need a cooler. Shouldn't they have thought of this before. He has one in his house. I just got mine. Then they have to discuss what to drink and when to buy it and where to get ice. When there is a Colmado on every corner selling the drink, snacks and ice.
During this discussing one of the group gets a call and has to leave the circle to talk. Then another phone rings. And here I am waiting to get to the beach..the sun is high in the sky! The phone calls say someone is ready. Who cares if someone is ready. But it seems that whoever they are they are ready to be picked up by us! More people to drive around and get.
So we drive all the way beck into the heart of Santo Domingo. Very near where the guys mother lives. He was just there an hour before! Why couldn't he have picked up this person when he was there instead of heading back into traffic to get someone?
So another hour has passed. Waiting for this person to talk to his mother. Run to the Colmado for bread for her. Then stand and talk a bit. Couldn't we talk in the car on the way to the beach?
While they are discussing "the plan", it's noon now and I need a beer! Something to calm me down and it (and I) was hot. I walk 3 buildings away to get 2 grandes for everyone to share. I can't understand half of what is being said anyhow. When talk is fast I can't get it. I am gone for 5 minutes! I come back and they are all on me because they want to leave! Now my blood is boiling! It takes everything in me to try and act normal. Not to pick up the broom stick laying in the street and beat them just to get some sense into their heads!
I hold back and smile. Not easy but it's Ok. I'm the foreigner here. We all get in the car, moving around a little until everyone is comfy with their positions. Were off! Finally.
We still have not got gas or the refreshments. So we stop at a gas station where everyone has to get out and talk more on their celulars. Then were on our way. Vamanos a la playa!
As we exit the highway for the road that takes us to the beach I suggest getting the liquids. Of course there is the discussion of why didn't we get them in the city because its cheaper there. I suggested this many times and got the hand held up, the Dominican wait hand motion. I said nothing. What was the use.
We got all the stuff. Of course very slowly.
YEA!! We're at the beach. Its 2PM. I can't believe it!
We get all settled in so I can have sun and they shade. Enjoy a dip in the water. Play with the vendors. Eat some beach food.
Then comes 4PM and one of the girls says she has to get home because she has something she has to do. Now my slightly red glow on my skin is not from the sun. Its from boiling blood! All the hours of getting ready to spend almost 2 hours sitting on the beach! That's just wrong. So we all packed back up and left. I didn't talk mush on the way home. Afraid of what I may say. Anyhow I didn't know all the words for what I wanted to say in Spanish.
This is just one example of going out with friends in DR. Things like this happen all the time.
Once taking a bus to the beach with friends. We are half way to Boca Chica and the bus stops at some make shift terminal. There is only 7 people on the bus and he won't go until he has more people. All the people keep getting on other busses and they fill up and pull out. Here we are sitting for about 20 minutes. We tried to get off the bus and there was a heated discussion that we were not permitted to leave. Well, 2 of my friends are very opinionated Dominican women and they get us off the bus. We get on another and continue on our way.
Another time after we get all the people together and before we get to the gas station we run out of gas. The guys have to walk to get gas then when we get the gas they have to drive to the gas station and spend 20 minutes discussing it with the attendant. Then on the way home we get a flat tire. On the side of the highway and of course no spare. And we were drinking beer and had to pee! So we were there for over an hour. Got the tire on and this time it was dark and he had no head lights. We made it home but it was a real experience.
There are many more stories like this but I have to get to work on the web site now....

The little peeper

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic
Before I start the story you have to get an idea of the layout of my apartment. It was in a large
house in Zona Colonial. The house was divided into apartments. The downstairs they kept as one large apartment which was later converted into a bar. The building is long, about a half of a block long and sort of narrow. The second floor which is accessible from the sidewalk by a gate that is pad locked. The large open staircase goes up to the second floor landing which goes the length of the building. There are 4 apartments, which I assume were at one time bedrooms in this large house. The front apartment is a large studio apartment with a large, long kitchen and then there's the living-sleeping area with a balcony opening to the front of the building overlooking the park and the street. This is my apartment.
The other apartments behind me are 1 room places with a small bathroom. The last apartment there lived a family. Husband, wife and their son (about 6 years old) and daughter (about 3 years old). I don't know how they all fit into the one room place but they did. It seemed that they spent much of their time on the landing outside. This is where they washed their clothes and dishes and sat at night.
So now on with the story.
I was in my apartment, taking a shower. The bathroom is very small. You could sit on the toilet and take a shower. It only can fit one human. Even if your at the sink (which never did have water) you could shower. The entire bathroom was a shower.
I had a few buckets , one in the bathroom and another outside the door which I never shut, unless there was someone visiting. I very rarely had running water so the buckets were always filled and ready for a shower or to flush the toilet.
I was drying off in front of the mirror on the open door of the bathroom when behind me, in the mirror, there was the neighbor boy! There I was all wet, drying the bod. He just stood there with his jaw dropped to his knees! I'm sure he saw his mom naked in their small apartment but maybe I was the first Gringa he ever saw. Maybe my bright white body blinded him temporarily.
I wrapped the towel around me. I didn't know what to do. I had no words to tell him to get out. I didn't know how to say this is spanish. I didn't know any spanish word to say. They were all somewhere else except where they should have been. Not in my head, not in my mouth. Gone!
I grabbed him and pushed him to the door. Backwards. He was facing me the whole time with a big smile on his face. He wasn't moving easily either. Either he was resisting or his body was frozen in shock and horror.
I got him out of the door and closed it. I was in shock myself for a few seconds. Then I had to laugh. I laughed uncontrollably picturing his face and imagining what mine must have looked like when I saw him.
I realized that the door didn't latch when I closed it. It was locked but it didn't catch and of course, the boy had to push on the door as he passed. Since it was open he must have felt that meant come on in. He had walked in before when I left the door open this is why I always closed it and locked it. From then on I always remembered to push on the door after closing it to make sure it caught. I was never going to be caught like that again.
After I got dressed and got myself composed I figured I best go tell his mom so she didn't think I was some kind of perv exposing myself in front of her kid.
I opened the door to go out to the landing. She was sitting outside in front of her place with her cousin and the kids were there. As soon as I walked out they started laughing and the boys face turned bright red. This told me that he told her and she wasn't angry.
I had to take her into my apartment to show her what happened because I didn't know the words to explain. She laughed and said she told him not to go into my apartment again. She also said that for the last hour, since he saw me, he has not stopped telling everyone he saw me naked. He told all the neighbors and I'm sure all his friends.
For about a month every time he saw me he would get a shy-sly half smile on his face and put his head down. I just shook my finger at him and smiled.
I just hope I didn't destroy him for the rest of his life by seeing me in my most loveliest!jeje/LOL!

The big almost drug bust

Music of Dominican Republic, Rock-DominicanoWatch this video. It's great. It shows so much of the city of Santo Domingo.

Ok..let me see, what story to tell...
There was this bar I really liked going to. It's called Parado 77. Its sort of a younger people bar but all ages are there. They play all sorts of music and people sign their names to the walls. On the weekend its packed full with people spilling out onto the streets and taking the party there with them.
One night I woke at about 2AM. I decided I'd take a walk and go to that bar. It was about 8 blocks, more of less away. Maybe about a 15 min. brisk walk. I didn't want to spend the money on a taxi so I took the walk.
On the weekends its not lonely walking and not that dangerous since there are so many people out in the Zone. I made the trek and when I got there went in and got my beer. It was so crowded inside so I went outside to have my refreshing beverage after the hot walk there. Trying to get myself ready to talk Spanish (Sometimes it took me a little time to get my brain out of the English mode into the Spanish language mode).
I was outside looking around and saying hi to the people I knew when 2 big flat bed trucks came pulling up to the bar. These trucks were filled with army looking men in camo wardrobe with guns. A few cars followed these trucks and a man jumped out with a large TV camera and a lady from the TV got out with him. The army guys on the truck all jumped down, there were at least 25 to 30 of them.
Everyone started putting their hands on the walls, assuming the position. All the people in the street and in the bar were face to the walls with hands on them.
I had no clue what was going on so I did what everyone else was doing. One of the army guys said n to me that I did not have to do that. I guess he thought I was a tourist. But I didn't want to look like I was a snotty American so I stayed and kept my hands on the walls.
There was a guy standing next to me and I asked him what was happening. He spoke English! Junior was his name and he told me it was the DEA..I think that's it, the drug enforcement agency. They were searching for drugs.
I got nervous cause I heard that if you were in a place where anyone had drugs and someone got arrested that everyone in the place could be arrested also. Jeez..I had just woke up less than an hour before and now I was amongst the frisked!
I was watching and they had some peoples sitting on the curb making them take off their shoes, removing jackets, hats and such. The army guys were checking purses and pockets. I saw some guns. But they were returned to the people. I was not shocked to see the guns but I was shocked seeing them being returned. It seemed that they were not looking for weapons.
The TV camera was there filming it all. The lady, which I found out later was a TV reporter. She was talking to the camera I guess about what was going on.
The army guys finished and found nothing. When they were finished the crowd had thinned out drastically and the whole party mood had fizzled away. Most of the people were gone. I wasn't ready to go yet! I just got there and was still on my first beer! I walked all that way. So I had a few more beers with Junior. We talked for a while and when the bar closed cause there were no more humans in the place I said bye and started walking home.
Junior had a car and offered me a ride. I gladly took it cause by that time the streets were empty and I remembered the last time I walked home late (it was a week day) and some bum in the park asked me for a cig. He grabbed My hand when I gave him one and he squeezed it hard. He wouldn't let me go. He was hurting my hand. I was getting ready to do the old twist release hand thingy when this man came out of nowhere and kicked the cig guy in the butt, yelled at him. Then he walked me home. He was a man I said hi to when we passed in the streets many times and it did me good. He accompanied me to my home and was very polite.
Anyhow..back to Junior taking me home. We got to my place and the bar downstairs was open still and I was not ready to go home yet. So I went there. Junior parked and came in also. It was lively in there. Cafe de Toi. Odalis, the owner lady is a really nice person. She was busy doing the Dance of the Bottle. which is a must see. All the people make a circle around a bottle sitting on the floor. The song is playing. One person enters the center of the circle and dances over the bottle going down as low as they can to the bottle while dancing and gyrating the hips and butt over the bottle. It is fun to watch. Everyone it wahooing and hooting (sounds like those old western movie bars on the movies). I can't do the dance, my body and knees don't work that way but it is fun to watch.
Anyhow..Odalis was busy entertaining so I had to mix drinks falling back on my old waitress bartending skills. I was serving the whole bar and cleaning up dirty glasses. Which was fine. From that time on when Odalis needed help she'd call up to me to come down. When she needed to run to the store or something I took over when there was noone else. It was fine, in return I never paid for a drink there. So it affected me just fine.
Junior and I became friends. He used to come and visit Mamita and I at the galeria and he even came to Mamitas home sometimes. All was good and noone went to jail and I never even got frisked!

My phone and my Ladrone

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic pictures
This picture is what I saw from my balcony. There was a big tree in the way but I could still see the statue when I was on the balcony.I was content.
There was a problem with the phone after I moved in. I was so excited that I had the phone and internet and electric all connected before I moved in. Mamita kept saying that I was sooo lucky. Well, my luck ran out fast. The phone disconnected 2 days after I moved in.
I called Codetel (now Verizon) and told them the phone went out. They said they didn't understand and wanted to know the name of my business. I told them I didn't have a business (I didn't want to pay higher rates for a business phone anyhow). They kept telling me that I had a business number. I can't help that's the number they gave me! So they came back out and connected the phone. It was good for maybe a week then it went out again.
I went through the same crap again. Not a business phone. They connected the phone again. # mre times this happened. Then People were talking on my line. They said that the number was not mine. Its the number they gave me and it worked at my home for a month, at least when the phone was working.
Then they said they would look into it. They came back that since I didn't have a business that they didn't have a line for me and I would have to wait until they put more lines in and assigned new numbers to the area. I told them why couldn't they just give me the line I had with a regular number. They told me they already gave that to someone else! In one day they gave that connection to another person. I paid for it. It was mine.
I couldn't fight about it. It wouldn't do any good so I had to wait for about a month to get the phone hooked back up but I did get a phone bill for the entire time I didn't have a phone. I marked on the calendar everyday I didn't have a phone and fought to get the bill fixed. They ended up giving me a half month free. I couldn't believe it!
So I was happy in my new place. I only had water half the day. In the morning there was water. I could adjust to that.
I got my wash machine ready but there was no place to run the drain. Later I relieved that I should have just ran it into the hall and down the outside steps like everyone else did. But I was still thinking like an American. I got my trusty hammer and my chisel and started whacking away at the thick cement wall to put a hole in it to put the drain pipe through. So it could go into the drain.
I pounded away for probably 2 hours and made a nice hole where the hose fit into prefect. Calked around the hose when I found that the water was leaking through back into the kitchen floor. I did good!
There was what I called the hole outside the kitchen window. It was the size of 2 refrigerator boxes in width and opened to the sky. I have no idea what it was for. But that's where the drain was for the washer. I got a big garbage can and put it out there with water for the times I didn't have water. That was my stash. Anyhow...I usually forgot to shut that window. I didn't think anyone could get in there anyhow. I was wrong.
One night Sniffy (the blind dog) and I went out to the neighbors Colmado to have a few beers. I had gotten to know some of the people around the area a little now. There was this guy, Victor. He was a guy that did the errands for the Colmado and also did stuff for the people living around the area. He also worked at the ship yard when they needed him. He could speak English fairly well. He was a nice human. A little obnoxious sometimes, especially when he got drunk. (little story...One night Victor was drinking a lot and I told him he should go home. He was so worried about walking me home. I told him I would take him to his home. Can't talk to a drunk. He started walking me through the park. I had to stop and talk to someone. When I turned around he was sprawled out on the ground. I tried to get him up but he wasn't moving. Since many of the neighbors were out I told them to watch out for him. I went home. Next afternoon Victor came to me laughing. Someone stole one of his shoes when he was out! Just one shoe. I was laughing so hard when he told me this. He was laughing too. It was too funny)
So back to the story. I went home and realized I locked my key in the apartment. I brought the front gate key but forgot the door to my apartment key. Just wasn't used to all the keys yet I guess. So I went back to the Colmado. I was just going to hang out until morning and when Mamita and Jimmy went to work get my spare key off them.
Anyhow, Victor said he might be able to help me. He looked at the door and then he realized the kitchen window was open. He climbed up the neighbors gate covering their patio onto the roof. Then he went to the hole. But it was really high for him to jump. So he went and got a ladder. He took the ladder onto the roof but it was too short. So he left again and got a rope. He tied the rope onto the ladder. Lowered the ladder down to the ground in the hole. Lowered himself down so he could drop onto the top rung of the ladder. Then he climbed down and into my apartment and unlocked the door!
I'm happy I left the window open but I never did that again and I never forgot my keys again. Victor got the name My Ladrone (Robber). He was so happy to have helped. He spent about 2 hours getting into my place. Thank goodness everytime he returned he brought me a grande beer! Sniffy and I were content.

Moving night to The Zone

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic sight seeing and history, the parks of Santo Domingo If I ws home in DR I would probably be sitting in this park at the Cafeteria wih friends having a beer and talking. Being warm and in the sun instead of cold and in the house on the computer. Oh well..this is life for now.
Now where was I?..Getting my belongings from old place to new place..
I talked to everyone I knew to find someone with a truck. Finally a guy I knew said he had a friend with a van and he would move me. He told me it would be on Wed. but he would call fisrt. I got boxes and had all the non-essentials packed. He never showed up. I ended up calling him, a bit pissed off. He acted like it was nothing that I was packed and waiting. So he told me maybe on Friday but he would call first.
Well, the norm here, he didn't call. He came rushing in saying lets go! I was not packed. He was throwing my stuff into boxes, not wrapped. I was very angry but I had to deal with it if I wanted moved. It was dark outside. We couldn't see inside the van. Things were being thrown into the van not in any safe order. One of the legs of my computer desk was broken off as it was thrown into the back of this nasty dirty van.
Then when we got to my apartment. Friday night, a bar below my place. There was a big party with the American Embassy people and they were all in the street. We were trying to take things out of the van and get them upstairs. Going through a group of very happy, drinking humans blocking the way with every trip up the stairs.
It was very dificult. I was not in the mood for talking to people. I wanted to punch the guy that "helped" me and broke alot of my stuff. But I was IN! I had my belongings in the new apartment. Sniffy and I had arrived to Zona Colonial and our new home.
The man that helped me move went and got a few beers for us to drink. I just wanted him to go so I could get stuff organized so at least I could have a place to sleep for the night. I had a pole up for clothes hanging thanks to Jimmy. He came in and we put up a shelf in the bathroom (we used the metal back of an old computer, very ingenious). The clothes pole was also a divider for the bed and the living area. It was a little small but I didn't need much cause I didn't have much.
I finally got rid of the guy that helped me move and went down to see what my surroundings were like in the night. There were many people in the park all enjoying themselves. Sniffy was sniffing around trying to figure out where was going to be her pee and poo place. We walked over to the Colmado and got a beer and sat in the park and observed.
People were nice but noone really talked to me. Tey said hi and just seemed to be observing me, the new Gringa in the neighborhood with a funny looking no eyed dog.

Finding the Zona Colonial Apartment

I wanted to live in "The Zone". Without a car and not liking being stuck in the apartment at night. I didn't like paying a taxi when I could walk someplace. I always thought that a taxi ride was the same price as a few beers. So if I walked I could stop and drink my taxi ride and enjoy it a whole lot more!
So I went to the Galeria to hang with Mamita and Jimmy one day with the intent purpose of going on an apartment quest. Of course, Dominican style, we had to sit around and discuss that I might not be able to find one. That it may be too expensive. That it could take a long time locating a place. In true Dominican form the discussion could have continued forever about all the what if's. So I embarked on my quest.
I knew the general direction I wanted to live in so I just started walking and asking people I saw. I found one place right away but it was too small. I'd never fit me, my dog and my small amount of belongings in that place so I continued.
I learned that day what not to do. I'm so used to people helping out because they want to not because they expect money for it. Maybe buy the person a beer or just a thank you was always good, or so I thought.
I asked some guys sitting on a step drinking if they knew any places around for rent. They saw Gringa and dollars all over me I guess. The guy took me around the corner, where I was heading anyhow, and showed me a sign. Of course he wanted to call the number on the sign cause the guy was his "best friend." We went to the nearest Colmado and I forked over the pay phone money. I was going to call with my celphone but didn't want to hand the guy my phone. We had a beer (I paid) while he made the call. There was no answer. So I needed to keep looking. I tried to get away from the guy cause he was getting a little loud. He wouldn't let me go! He wanted money. The Colmado guy told him to quit bugging me. I was getting pissed. I didn't want to give him money after I gave him a few cigs and got a grande presidente for us to share. But to get rid of the guy I gave him the change I had. I wasn't going to give him and bills! Did he think my head screwed on! jejeje
I had my cash, other than a hundred pesos, in my bra. I call that boob money. I told him all I had was the change and a little more to get home with. I gave him the change and told him "largate de me"(Get away from me. Mamita taught me that)The Colmado guy started talking to him so I could make my get away.
I wrote down another number and returned to the galeria so Mamita could call the number of the apartment. I figured it was better to get a Dominican ask for the price of the apartment so I could get the normal price and not the American price.
We got the guy and he met me at the apartment in an hour. I took Mamita with me, and we picked up a few other friends on the walk. Some tourist guy that was from Argentina and a Dominican friend, Chino, who is my Dominican brother and self-proclaimed body guard. We all walked down to see the place.
Suprisingly the man was only about 10 minutes late. We all went in and looked around. It was a studio apartment so there wasn't a lot to look at. The balcony is what sold me. I could see the Caribbean from it. And there was a park and a perfect place for Sniffy, the dog, to enjoy. So I told the guy right there I wanted the place. He called the owner and the next day we all met at the galeria.
Mamita was my co-signer. I took a lawyer friend of mine to sign the lease just to make it look good. I DID pay that lawyer with beer only. I paid my 3 months. !st month rent, deposit and the other fee that is non-refundable which I have never figured out. But it is the custom in the country.
I had my apartment. Just where I wanted to live. I was very lucky. Now I just had to figure out how to get my stuff from the old place to the new...

Thoughts on Celebrating Death or Life

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic marriage, death and christmas traditions
My Grandfather whom we called Pappap died about 2 weeks ago. The family had the Memorial service for him yesterday. He was 93 and he lived a good life. He was always healthy. Up until the last few years when he couldn't get out and work in his garden this is when he knew it was time to go.

He wanted to die for the last few years. He told me he didn't like not being in control of his life. Not being able to drive himself and his wife, my Maw, in the car when they wished. The diaper thing really bothered him. One day, when I was driving him home from seeing Maw., in the hospital he told me" No man should ever live this long" And I agree with him 100%.

The ancient question, what is better quantity or quality of life. I have decided quality. I don't want to live to be old. I just hope the Doc. Kivorcian (can't spell that) is in businesses when I'm ready for the jumping off. I don't want to jump off on my own. After all you hear about committing suicide and not going to heaven, I don't want to chance it. But if I'm old, all messed up, and someone takes me out could that still be considered suicide? That's a grey area...I'm always in that grey area.

Anyhow. I'm not a funeral goer. And I can never enter the funeral home here in Mars. This is where they had my sons memorial service. I say they because I really didn't want one but I was told it was for the other people to say good bye. I just can't understand the funeral stuff. I had him cremated and set his ashes free in a lake area he grew up near. He died in 2003. It was hard but it happened. I conceder myself blessed for having Billy Jay, my son, in my life for the short 23 years I had him. I thank God everyday for letting me know and be the mother to such a unique, artistically blessed, memorial human.

I feel the same about my Pappap. He was the rock of the family. Now hes gone well just wait and see what happens. If the family slowly falls apart. Who knows. Things change. Sometimes for the best.

I remember I saw a funeral on TV in Dominican Republic. It was in a persons house and all these people were standing around the mans casket. They were all pouring beer inside the casket! I never saw anything like that before, wasting all that good beer when the guy couldn't even enjoy it! But really I liked that. It was like they were celebrating the person by doing what he liked to do best.

I also love the tradition of pouring the first trago of alcohol on the ground for the dead. I, being the Gringa that I am, started doing this also. I made sure I said it was for Billy Jay, my son, but I didn't give him much. I am still his mother and hes not permitted to drink too much.

I was just thinking about the funeral stuff. Different traditions. I have a friend who keeps her fathers ashes in a box on the TV (sometimes she sits it near her when she watches TV). She has his pictures on the box. Other people wear their loved ones ashes around their neck in a little charm. I couldn't do that. I could just imagine it like dismembering the bod and who knows what part you'd get to put in the little charm thing. I'd rather keep all the ashes together in one place. Even if it is sprinkled over a garden of placed in a lake.

Me personally I don't like burying someone. All the embalming to preserve them. I say if your gonna bury them do it like they do in the counrty in DR. Put them in a family plot. For me that's the best thing. At least its a little warmer feeling that being with a bunch of humans you don't know.

Anyhow...I do think it is good to celebrate life. And when someone dies celebrate their life. Don't remember them as dead (some people take pictures of the dead and save them...eewwhhh..yuck. To each their own I guess) Remember all the good things about their life. Smile when you think of them. Honor their memory by not being depressed over their memory but by being happy in remembering. Don't you think they really would have wanted it that way?

Also Don;t forget to give them a drop of your beverage. Couldn't hurt!

My Mamajuana Experience

Domingo Dominican Republic Mamajuana. Made in Dominican Republic
As with most people the first time I heard mention Mamajuana the green smokable substance cane into my head. Wondering why they could just sell it out right in Dominican Republic. I found out they are not alike what so ever.
Mamajuans is a drink, a very potent drink. It resembles Spiced Rum or Ron as it is called in DR. A sweet drink with a zip of spice that makes it quite unique.
I had no idea what it was and asked Carlos about it when I was still a tourist. He took me to his car and opened the trunk. He had an old gallon whisky bottle filled with a nasty looking liquid with bits of junk in it. He told me I could have the bottle to take home with me. I had no idea what it was so I stupidly declined. He never offered me a taste, which I would have tried because I'm always game for trying something new. I really had no idea it was alcohol or I would have taken a swig without an invite.
When I got back to USA and non vacation life I looked around on the puter for more info of DR and found a forum. There was a section about Mamajuana. This is when my eyes were opened to the treasure of this drink. I made a mental note that on my next visit in 3 months, I had to try this stuff no matter how ugly it looked.
So there I was again in the beautiful Dominican Republic hanging out with Carlos at a Colmado with some of his friends. Out comes the bottle of Mamajuana. A styrofoam glass was filled with ice from a bag then the mamajuana was poured on top. There was a few floaters on the surface of the drink but I have no problems with stuff like that. I had camped all my life and when you camp there's always some of the flora and ash in the food that's consumed.
I put the glass to my mouth ready to take a little sip. Didn't want to guzzle yet. I noticed that the people sitting on the plastic chairs in our circle were all watching , waiting for me to take my first swig. All had a sort of evil, knowing smile on their faces. I had read that it was an aphrodisiac and this I remembered at that moment. I took my initial swig, letting the amber liquid flow slowly down the back of my throat. Of course I had to play it up a bit. Dominicans love to laugh at tourists doing new things so I made it good. Closing my eyes I pretended to get a chill, sort of a hot sexy chill. Finished it off with a semi orgasmic ahhh.Opened my eyes slowly with a satisfied smile on my face. There was a girl next to me with her lower jaw dropped to her chest, others were just looking at me with stupid looks on their faces. I started laughing. They looked too funny. Said an Oh Baby Baby, and that was it. Everybody laughed.
I didn't know much Spanish but I said caliente. Carlos came over fast. I think he was wanting to get me to the hotel and fast! I loved it! Then I explained in my spanglish that it was a joke and we had a great time the rest of the night. I had a few more glasses of Mamajuana of course with some beer to back it up. Beer goes with everything.
So the next day I told Carlos I had to have me some of that stuff to take home. Of course he had some relative that sold the stuff so off we went to the market.
I'm not sure exactly where we were but it was a large market under roof. We came to it the back way. Walking up to it I could not believe they sold food in a place that looked this way. Where was the FDA inspectors?! I saw something that I'll never forget as we walked up to the building. It was pure National Geographic. I wish I had a camera with me to have taken the picture but then maybe I wouldn't have. I hated taking pictures of people as if I was gauking at them, but this would have been a prize winning picture.
There was a man sitting on the sidewalk with his back up against a wooden fence. The gutter was flowing with red tinted water ,not right next to him but very close in front of him. This man was not paying attention to anything, he was into his own thoughts. He had no legs. They were missing, one just below the knee and the other was mid thigh. He was sitting in the center of a bunch of chickens, maybe 20 or so. All these chickens had their legs bound with string and were just laying there looking around. This scene struck me, here is this legless man sitting in the midst of these leg bound chickens. Blood running in the gutter. Here is the picture. I wish I had a better camera. Where is National Geographic when you need them?
Anyhow..we entered this market. All the sights and sounds of a market are quite interesting, especially when it is my first time seeing anything like this. We passed a table with long pea looking brown pods piled on a table. I was asking all sorts of questions. These were Tamarind (spelt wrong, sorry). Carlos opened one and let me taste it. It looks really ugly but tasted quite good. We were coming upon a booth where there were a bunch of chickens. At this second I slipped and Carlos grabbed me. Thank goodness he did and that I didn't fall. I slipped on animal guts laying on the floor! Chicken guts! The booth was a murdering place for those unlucky, leg-tied chickens. It was nasty. Blood and little pieces of raw flesh laying about and those poor birds. I was just amazed that they killed them where all could watch.
Carlos dragged me away from this spectacle. We entered a small booth lined with bottles of all shapes and sizes. Different labels, half missing but all filled with wood chips. The stuff I put around the trees in my yard. All stuffed into these discarded old alcohol bottles. We were in the Mamajuana buying place. We had arrived.
After the greetings and hugs the purchasing of the mamajuana commenced. I decided on 2 bottles. They were already primed with the wine so they were ready for the rum and honey additions. Then He opened the bottles, pulled out a plastic milk jug filled with a thick black-brownish liquid. Really nasty looking stuff and the jug wasn't the cleanest on the outside either. He opened my bottles, stuck in a funnel (same cleanliness as the milk jug), and without asking, slowly poured this liquid into my bottles. He maybe added a cup, more or less. Then he closed up the jug and put it back under the table where it came from and covered it again with a cloth. He pulled out a stick and started jamming it into the bottle. Jamming it down hard, mashing all the black junk into the wood junk. So all the junks became one.
I kept looking at Carlos while this was happening to get the idea if this was normal or if I should run. Carlos kept giving me the wait hand motion saying that it was all OK.
The uncle capped, bagged and handed me the bottles. Carlos paid him for them. He said he wanted to treat me to the mamajuana so that when I was in USA drinking it I would think of him.
So all was good. I took them home, no problems on the plane. Filled them with the rum and honey. Gave them a few weeks to cure.
I was talking in Latin Chat one night on the puter. I really didn't talk. I just waited for personal messages and could only say the basic stuff in Spanish. I went there to try and learn. Took notes of words I didn't understand and asked English speaking Dominican friends to interprete. Anyhow, I did say hola and that I was drinking mamajuana. As soon as I said that about 20 men private messaged me! It was too funny! The ones that did speak English I told that my dog, Sniffy was drinking it also. Sniffy loved it. I set my glass on the floor and went to drink some and it was empty! So we shared. (now you understand why it didn't bother me a few pieces of stuff in my drink, I share my drink and food with my dog)The chatters weren't interested in my dog. I didn't talk to them but for a few lines because I KNEW just what they were interested in at the mention of Mamajuana.
Mamajuana, the natural Dominican Viagra....

Electricity

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Churches, Hospitals and Clinics and Public Works I wrote before about
living without electricity/sin luz but trying to GET electricity is more difficult sometimes than learning to live without it.
So here's my story.
Thank goodness that my first apartment had everything included in the rent. This at least gave me time to learn a little about the way things work in Dominican Republic. I did have to get the phone/internet hooked up but I'll write about that later.
So I moved to my apartment in Colonial Zone after living in the country for 6 months. I wanted to live closer to the Zone since I didn't have a car. I found my apartment quite fast and was able to move in with in 2 weeks. So all was good.
I called to have the phone transferred..oops...phone later... I had to get someone to sigh for me to get the electric. So my friend Mamita went with me to the office. I got the address all correct and we went into the little office to talk to the guy.
I was getting frustrated within minutes of being there. The guy was asking how many rooms I had. How many lights I had. If I had a fridge. What did that have to do with anything? Mamita took over and told them I had 3 lights, no fridge and had 1 room. All was a little exaggeration, not much but a little. I didn't know they charged by how many electric consuming items you have in your place. That just didn't and still doesn't make much sense to me.
But anyhow...got all the papers signed and the deposit all taken care of. They said the guy would be there to hook it up in a day. I was content.
So the next day I went to the apartment to wait. Figured I'd clean while I was there. I'm not very domestic. Never was good at house keeping. But I spent the day cleaning, killing my back in the process. They never came. Who wouda thunk??
So the next day I got in the public car early and went to see Mamita in the galeria. Told her they didn't come. I asked her to call the company for me to see what happened (its easier for her to talk because of my limited Spanish)In true Dominican form, we had to discuss for at least an hour, what may have been the problem. That maybe the person that will answer the phone won't know what we're talking about. That maybe the man was there and couldn't find the apartment. Instead of just calling and finding out all the answers to the questions we had to discuss the what if's for a while. This is the Dominican way. I didn't realize this at that time. I was still a newbie.
So When she called they said they would be there that day. I went to the apartment and sat there. My back wasn't happy and I didn't want to push it with anymore useless cleaning. Why clean, everything just gets dirty again?
So by about noon I was really bored. I went down to the Colmado to get some bread (pan de auga)and ham to eat and of course I got a beer and started to meet my neighbors. I talked them out of 2 plastic chairs to borrow until I got my belongings moved in. WE were talking and guess what..the electric guys came!
I looked out the door of the Colmado. I was keeping an eye on the apartment for them. They were pulling away! I went running out to stop them. They stopped, probably wondering why this rubia was running after then waving arms wildly. I got them to return. I went and grabbed my beer and my chairs and headed back home to get power.
Didn't take long. He put a meter in and talked a bit and he was gone. All was good. I returned to the galeria to spend the afternoon with Mamita and be happy.
I moved in the next week and all was good until I realized that the neighbors were hooked into my electric. I called the landlord to fix it. He sent a guy and the guy made it better and my electric was good. Until the neighbor came over yelling that he didn't have lights! He was yelling at me for disconnecting him stealing from ME!
So finally we made a deal. He gave me a deposit and I gave him a few extending cords with the deal that if he didn't pay 1 time I would disconnect him and keep the deposit. He signed a contract with me.
Well that lasted 2 months and it was too hard trying to get the money and the next month he was 3 weeks late so I literally pulled the plug. He was mad at first but he got his own electric and he let the other neighbors have an extention cord, which they were not paying him on time and he was coming to me complaining. Imagine ..he did the thing same to me and he had the cajones to come to me and complain when the next guy did the same to him!HUMANS!!
Anyhow. My electric at first was under $100 pesos. Then 1 month it went to $800 pesos. Noone was connected to me. I called the office. Dumb me...not in USA anymore and have to remember one doesn't call, you have to go directly to the office. So the lady on the phone told me who to ask for when I went to the office. I went in ant it was caos as usual. Asked for this gal, they said she was at lunch that I should come back in an hour. So me and a friend that worked there went to lunch. I returned and asked for the lady. The receptionist said the gal didn't work there. Just an hour before she told me that the gal was at lunch! She said I had to take a number. I had a number but it was called while I was at lunch which the receptionist told me to do! I was ready to kill all Dominican electric people!
FINALLY, I got into the office. Noone would talk slow for me to understand. It took another hour for someone to talk English for me. Long story short..I never got the problem resolved. I did try but after months of going to the office and listening to people talking out their asses I gave up.
OK. All normal. Power in. Power out. Bills averaged $300. I'm content. I have to return to USA. After 3 months in USA I had to give up the apartment. My wonderful boyfriend, Felix, moved all my stuff out. He went to the electric company and had it all disconnected. He got the papers. Paid the last bill for me. All good.
Then he was visiting my old neighbors a few weeks ago. One of my neighbors told him that I had an electric bill. He got the bill and it is still in my name! The guy living in my old apartment is paying the bills, thank goodness. But they are still in my name! Felix went 2 times to make sure all was good, to the office. He has the contracts termination papers. And the electric is still in my name!
At this time we are still trying to resolve the problem.
Still gotta love Dominican Republic! It is my home.

Meeting my first Dominican Family

OK...Where was I? While on line ,I had ICQ, and some guy wanted to talk. He lived in DR so since I was always friend finding I talked to the guy. Ended up, after we conversed awhile, that we had crossed each others paths before from a message board we both had frequented. And, too funny, his family was originally from the same area in Pennsylvania where I was born. He lived in Santo Domingo for about 20 years and had a business in Zona Colonial and his Dominican wife had a Galeira there also.
He offered to help me out with some of those hard questions I had about how to survive in Dominican Republic and told me to come by the gallery any time and hang out and have a beer or 6. I decided to take him up on the offer one day and made the trek in a public car from where I was living at the time, Enchanse Julietta. Normally I just walked to Colonial Zone but this day I decided to be try something new.
I finally got to their gallery without much trouble and met Jimmy and Mamita. Who would have ever thought they would become my closest friends in the country and Mamita and I would become like sisters.
At first I wasn't sure about meeting Jimmys wife because I heard about how Dominican women are very jealous and I didn't want any trouble. I was so used to having men friends my whole life that I just figured it would be the same in DR and the women wouldn't consider me as a threat the same as in USA. With Mamita it was great! Her and I bonded right away. We even thought somewhat the same for coming from 2 different cultures. And Jimmy had a plethora of info about how to survive the daily life in the country. Loved them both right away.
That day was a good time. We got some beer, sat in the gallery and talked away. Mamita and I enjoyed standing in the door way of the gallery and people watching, which was always one of my favorite things to do. We would laugh at all the humans and she would tell me their histories. She taught me lots of Dominicanismos and the famous Dominican lip and nose talk.
They are both great humans and I'm so thankful they took me into their family and made this crazy Americana one of them. We have had our little tiffs and our special moments just like a real family. I think Mamita and I are related in some lost-line type way...jejejej.
Anyhow. I remember that day when I left the gallery to go back and get a public car before it got dark. It started raining as I got to the place at Independencia park to get a ride back. It was raining hard so I decided to wait it out and had me a beer. Started talking, as usual(my grandmother always says I have diarrhea of the mouth!), to some guy that wanted to practice his English. He ended up being some kind of police. He and his friend offered to take me home on his motor bike. I didn't like riding them but they promised to go slow for me and not do any zig-zag movements.
The rain stopped for what I thought was for the ride home. Well, I was wrong, it came down harder than before. I had ma an umbrella and took it out and was holding it over the three of us on the bike. The guy did go very slow for me, thank goodness. But it didn't matter much. We were soaked and dirty. I was laughing so hard. What else was I to do? Get upset about it or just take it and laugh about it. So I did as I usually do and laughed.
We got to my place and stood under the patio. The guys wouldn't go! This is when I thought, ohoh, I may have made a booboo. I wanted to loose these guys and didn't want them to see which door I went into. Cause if they did try something I for sure couldn't call a police cause the guy was police! So I decided the only way to get rid of them was to give them my umbrella so they got the idea they weren't coming in the house. And those poops! Took my fav umbrella and left! I liked that umbrella. But I was rid of them. Soaking wet. And had learned much that day about living in my new country.
All was good...

Body Here ,Heart There

This picture is what it looked like out the front of my parents home this morning. It's beautiful to see but I truly wish I was only looking at this foto instead of seeing it in real life. But I'm still in USA so I have to make the best of it.

Yesterday was Independence Day in Dominican Republic. I kept feeling like it was holiday here in USA and had to keep reminding myself that the mail was coming and there were no parades on the TV.

I remember my first Military parade I saw in DR. I really didn't understand that it was their Independence Day, Doesn't everyone in the world all celebrate Independence Day on July 4th (this is I guess what I thought because the problem was I never really thought about it before)? Well, I came out of my little world and discovered that every country had their own Independence Day, imagine that!

My Friend Leandro took me to the Malecon to see the parade. It was interesting. There were all these men, looking very proper and handsome in their respective military uniforms. Have to admit, a man in uniform always looks good. There were so many different uniforms. I remember thinking (and I still do) "Why does such a small island need so many army guys?" But I guess for that day every military man that could be at the parade was. So it looked like there were tons. It seemed to me that half the island was military!

All these brand new turquoise/off blue cars and motorcycles were blowing their sirens and riding around (I found out later that they were showing off all the new police vehicles). All around was an electric feeling in the crowd. Everyone was so excited. People were cheering and laughing and it was so festive. I was taken up by the moment and felt that this was MY country and that all these people were MY military people. It was a feeling like I felt like I was home. Hard to explain. It was a bit emotional. I don't know why but it was. I can be silly in this way sometimes.

The second Independence Day parade I went to was when I was living in Colonial Zone. Me and Sniffy (the blind wonder dog) went to see the parade. She loved to be in the center of things. And she thought she was the princess. She loved all the attention a cute dog gets, with her bandana around her neck we were off to face the crowds.

I had my camera that year and got a lot of good pictures that can be seen on my World is Round Tourist Pictures page. I remember there was some sergeant looking guy. He was marching on the outside of the other marchers so he was some higher up guy. He was yelling at the crowd and everyone was laughing and yelling back at him. I had no idea what anyone was saying buy I knew what ever it was it was funny.

There were so many different colors and types of uniforms. I really have no idea who was who but they were all pretty to look at.

The best part of the parade was the people watching. There was these 3 men dressed as women, butt ugly women too! jejej They were dancing around acting all fagot like. They were so funny. Malcons on the Malecon! I took a picture of them and they loved that. Sniffy liked them also. Who knows if she would have felt the same about them if she had eyes to see them. They were very hard on the eyes!

I love to meet new people and I started talking to a group of people. Me and this guy ended up going to a colmado to have a few beers. He was a nice young guy. I took a picture of him and Sniffy. They were eating Chicharones together sitting in the Colmado. They both had hugh smiles on their faces! Teeth showing! Sniffy was having a good time eating her Chicherones, drinking a funda de auga out of a plastic glass and being the center of attention.

We finally made it home after dark. Tired and happy. I talked to so many people. Sniffy got so much attention and she talked to people too! It was a good day.

My Big First Job

I needed to find a job and start being responsible again. I really wasn't sure how to go about looking for work here in Dominican Republic so I did what I heard was a good thing and started asking people. They say its not what you know but who you know so I started asking around.

Alex had a friend who knew a guy that had a business and needed a secretary that knew English. I was no secretary and thought it would be so boring because I'm so used to being around people, talking and having fun while I work. But I decided to go see the man anyhow. So I made an appointment for the next day and found out where the place was.

I didn't have any secretary-type clothes so I just put on a pair of white pants and shirt and started walking. It wasn't that far from where I lived so this was a good thing. But a bad thing happened. It started raining! It came down hard. Dirt from the road splashing up on my white pants. I did have a little folding umbrella which didn't do much in the Dominican downpour. So by the time I got there, about a 15 minute walk, I wasn't looking my best.

I walked up to the door and there was a man getting in his car. He asked me who I wanted and I told him. This was the guy I was looking for! He was leaving and I was 5 minutes early. He told me to get in the car and he would take me home and we could talk. So I did as told and it ended up he was a really nice man and he gave me the job even though I had never been a secretary, had never used Microsoft Word, didn't have the right clothes and couldn't speak Spanish well.

So ,of course, I had to celebrate. I got Sniffy and went to the Colmado and we celebrated my new job. I really didn't want the job but I needed it. Oh well, this is life

I went there the next day. I found out the business was called Grant Thorton. I didn't know what they did until about a month later. They are an accounting firm. Mainly what I did was play on the computer. Practice with Word. Get the Faxes out of the machine and put them in a bin. Check the emails and answer them if they were in English ( maybe 1 to 2 emails a day). I was very busy (sic). I was really BORED. I couldn't even answer the phones. I couldn't understand what the people were saying. I'd puck up the phone and then yell to Martha of Jennifer to help me.

I told the boss that if I didn't think I could do the job or didn't like it to let him know. They would give me 3 months to try it out. When the 3 month time was up I was waiting until he wasn't busy to go and talk to him when I was called into a meeting. They all had these sad looks on their faces. I hurried and said I had to quit and they looked so much better. They said they felt bad. I didn't feel bad at all. I was so bored there. The people were great but I just wasn't the secretary type.

My First Carnival

Colonial Zone Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Carnival in Santo Domingo
My friend Tony and his gang invited me to go to the carnival in La Vega. I really had no idea what to expect but I went anyhow. I really didn't want to leave Sniffy alone the whole day but I did it, worrying about her the entire day. This was my first time to leave her alone for a long time since she turned blind. She was getting around better so I went.
They came and got me and we took a public car to get a Guagua. There were so many cars and people everywhere. I had no idea where I was. Of course we went to the Colmado on the corner and got a few beers. I also got a little bag of some snack (can't remember exactly what it was). The bag had a little plastic toy to put together. I couldn't figure out how to get it together but I'm sure a kid could have done it immediately. I played with this toy while we sat around drinking. I entertained myself a lot, especially when I couldn't understand what anyone was talking about. I'd just go into my own little world until I understood something or until someone spoke directly to me slowly.
I had no idea why we were just sitting around. We got up early. It was about 10AM and we were just sitting. I found out that we were waiting for others of the group to show up. As usual people were late.
Finally it seemed that people were there. They were getting up and returning. Giving me the hand signal to sit and stay. Just like a dog. I sat and stayed and kept my little plastic glass full of beer waiting for the call to move somewhere else.
Finally I was called to get on the bus. We got a few beers for the road and all loaded onto the Guagua. It was a nice Guagua, it even had air conditioning.
We were on our way. I had no idea how far we were going but I was enjoying the music and everyone laughing and talking. It was for sure a party even thought I really didn't understand much. I knew this for sure.
We stopped at some road stop place. There was a lot of people everywhere. I remember stopping there before when some friends took me to Jarabacoa once when I was on vacation. We got a sandwich and more beer then we were off again.
We pulled into the town of La Vega. There were people and busses everywhere. I had no idea what was going on. I just followed the leader to another Colmado. We all sat down. Got more beer. Some of the group disappeared and some stayed. Some came back and others left. We were there for a few hours. I finally got someone to listen to me and I asked when the Carnival was to start. Tony told me it started a long time ago but it was in the other street. Why didn't anyone tell me!? I came to see the Carnival, I could sit around and drink at home.
I finally got Tony to take me to the next street to see what was going on. He said he didn't like the Carnival. So why was he there? I never did understand that one. But he did take me to the next street.
I couldn't believe the change. Where we were sitting there were many people but this was unreal. There were people everywhere. All mashed in. It was difficult to even move. There was so much excitement in the air. Everyone was loud and moving around like they were frantic.
then I saw it. I was in shock.
There were monster faces. Big ugly masks. Really they were beautifully done but were of the most viscous and toothy demons one could imagine. All larger than life. They were painted brightly and the clothes were all shiny and bright. They were in the center of the street with people running in every direction seeming to want to get away from them.
Then I saw it. Well, I didn't see it until it was too late. One of those masked demons hit me! They hit me hard! I didn't expect it. I heard about getting hit but I had no idea it was like this. The demon had a balloon type thingy in his hand (later I found out it was a dried animal bladder or rubber made into a ball) and he was swinging it around and hitting people on the butt! That thing hurt too. I turned around shocked and saw Tony close behind me laughing. I guess the look of shock on my face was pretty funny told me to stay out of the street. Now why didn't he tell me this before? One can only guess. He liked to see me get my first whack!
Now I understood. You had to watch all around you. Stay off the street and away from the dressed up people. It wasn't as easy as it seemed. With all the humans sandwiched in escape wasn't always easy. There was loud music. Humans everywhere. People yelling. Humans everywhere. Bladders butt-wapping. Humans everywhere. Everyone having a good time. And did I mention humans EVERYWHERE!!??
After about a half hour I gave up fighting the crowd and just let them move me along until I came out the other side and was free. All the while holding on to Tony for dear life and laughing hard. It was great fun. Good thing I wasn't claustrophobic and that I had had a few beers to relax me. I made it our of the crowd and we went back to the Colmado to our seats and another bien fria(beer)to cool off with. This is when they explained to me what this Carnival was about, in English. They must have waited to see my reaction and to get a good laugh (which I did to my family a year later when they got their first Carnival experience also).
It was time to get back onto the Guagua. I had no idea how they knew where ours was but we got there. Got on and situated. The ride home was a little quieter because everyone was tired and maybe a bit sore. All in all I had a great time.
Another new experience to add to my many here in Dominican Republic. I love this country!