I did get to see much of the island but most of the time I had no idea where I was. I just went along for the ride. At times the rides were uneventful and others they were quite noteworthy.
Once I went with a friend and his family to La Vega to visit the grandparents. It was nice just hanging out with the family and sometimes I even understood the conversation.
From here we got in a truck and headed to the mountains. It was somewhere near Pico Duarte. We drove on some hazardous roads. It was dark so I had no idea just how dangerous this road was until the next day when I saw it in the light of day. I couldn't believe the road. Dirt. Steep banks dropping down into the forest. Road half gone because of a rain storm that passed. But it was worth it just to have spent the time in the campo.
The home we were going to was some type of mountain biker stop off. There were a few rooms for sleeping but most of the house was open air. It sat on a steep hill that decended to a calm, cool river. It was so peaceful and serene just watching nothing, enjoying the quite.
There was a little Colmado(picture of the Colmado) down the street, or should I say, down the dirt trail. There was no electricity in the area just generators. This Colmado didn't use the generator but on the weekend so we couldn't get any cold beer. So the next best thing was some rum. We did bring some coolers with ice so we shared that with the people sitting in the Colmado and had a little party with the locals. I even danced a little bachata with some of the men around. They got a good laugh out of it. I will always be the first to make fun of myself.
The caretakers of this house cooked us some sanchocho on a fire in the yard. There was about 8 of us that got to devour this typical Dominican dish (Picture of us eating). We were all so hungry after a day in the country we devoured that stew up.
Since I do love the outdoors and camping, I had to take a walk alone. I walked down some trails and ended up by the river. There was a horse tied near the river with no one in site to claim ownership. There was a swinging bridge crossing over the river which looked as if it was used often but there didn't seem to be any life around. It was just amazing to me that people lived in these remote areas where there were no roads. Only foot paths. I could never imagine having to carry groceries such a long distance on foot.
I did a little more walking and my friend came to find me since I was gone, alone, for over an hour. We decided to take a swim in the river. Sin ropa / without clothes of course.
All was good. We found a deeper spot and were playing in the water when out of nowhere 2 boys magically appeared on the bridge. They were maybe 8 years old. Of course seeing a Gringa with her white butt shining like the sun itself got some unwanted attention. My friend and I knowing we were discovered could do nothing. Our clothes were across the river on a rock. Not within grabbing distance.
There was a large bolder so we clung to it. Hugging that rock because it was our only guard against those eyes that kept staring at us.
The kids would not go away. They were laughing and pointing. We were rock hugging and laughing with them. What else could we do? We were stuck.
Well, while we were hugging the rock and not moving much I kept feeling things on my legs. At first I thought it was just debris brushing up on my legs as it flowed down the river. Then the debris started pinching. It was not river muck it was fish! They were biting me! They were nibbling at my legs. It wasn't big bites but I could for sure feel them and it wasn't really pleasant. I kept thinking a bigger fish would decide to come along and join in the feast. We had to keep kicking our legs to keep the fish away, laughing at our situation, with the kids still gawking at us.
Finally the kids got bored. What seemed to be an hour was really about 20 minutes. We decided to make a run for it and get our clothes. I had just got my pants on when the kids reappeared. I had to put my top on under their watchful eyes. But it was too late. They must have been laying in wait for our escape from the fish and the river.
We got back to the house and shared our story with everyone there. Within an hour after getting back to the house these little red blotches started appearing on my legs. They were itchy and very noticeable. My friend had them also but his didn't show up like mine. Red on brown skin isn't that noticeable but red on white flesh really shows up!
It ended up that the no seeums got me. I didn't feel anything or see anything. I guess thats how they got their name..duhhh. But those dots stayed on my body for about 2 weeks. The itching went away but the blotches stayed. I thought they were never going to fade and I would be deformed for life. But in time they did leave. But my friend lost his dots within days. Not fair!
More information on nosseums(opens in a new window)
The experience in the campo was fabulous. I went out and laid in the street where there was no tree cover and watched the vastness of the Dominican sky. The stars were so bright. The air was so cool. Not a car or person passed by in the street. It was so quiet. Wonderful.
If I ever have enough money I would love to get a little place in the mountains away from humans. My dream is to have my apartment in the city and my place in the country. Hang in the country for a few days then go to the city for a few days. The best of both worlds...
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
The Tree Cutters
This story is about a tree trimming crew I saw in front of my apartment in Zona Colonial but first I must share some of my tree trimming history and knowledge.
I was born...LOL! But really my first time that I remember tree trimming affected me badly was on my first birthday. My dad (my dad was known as a tree surgeon and my mother was a nurse..yes..I come from a family of doctors..LOL!) was born “in the trees.” When he says “Bye, see ya later” it comes out as “In the trees.” He was a tree man since I can remember. On my first birthday he got the first knuckle of his ring finger cut off because of some chipper that went crazy. So my birthday party was delayed because of tree trimming. To this day when he pretends he is bending his finger over, when it really is long gone-by-chipper, we are reminded of that finger loss day when I turned 1.
When I was old enough to drag a branch my dad took me with him on his weekend make-extra-money tree trimming jobs. I was on the ground crew of 1. I had tree climbing envy because he would just shimmy up that tree using a harness and some really spiky shoes. He would be toting a big chain saw or some curved hand saw with really large teeth. I didn’t want to be on the ground picking up the droppings. I wanted to do the chopping. But I did my duty and drug all the branches to the brush pile as directed by boss man daddy in the tree.
We were always trimming trees. I don’t know how the trees grew so fast in our yard but it seemed that at least once a week we had to so something with picking up some tree parts. Branches, leaves or logs for chopping into firewood. Always something to do with a tree.
There were always chain saws around. At least 2 to 3 different sizes for different jobs. There was the big industrial size saw. That baby could bring down a big tree in no time. Just cut that wedge out of the side and the tree soon came crashing sown. After it was down then the chain saw changed. The medium sized one cut the tree into workable pieces. Bigger branches cut off and the tree cut into splitable lengths. Then the baby chain saw to cut the smaller branches and twigs for putting on the burn pile or sending to the chipper for mulch.
The firewood splitting was a real chore. I have a picture of me in the wood pile in my yellow bikini. Hair in pig tails holding a maul type ax (it is more wedge shaped for easier log splitting). I looked like a mix between Bonnie (of Bonnie and Clyde fame) and some Hillbilly gal. I got to make spending money splitting the wood. I got $5USD for splitting a face cord (our face cord was about 4 feet high by 8 feet long with the length of the piece being about 14 inches long). It took forever to do this splitting. My hands were callused. My arms killed me. I got splinters all the time. But for what I thought was a lot of money at the time, I did the work. Then one day I was using the sledge hammer on a chisel chopping some really large log into pieces. I didn’t realize that I need to grind the edges of the chisel, I guess I was really wanting to chop that wood instead of taking time out to get the chisel ground down. Well, a piece of the metal from the ragged edge broke off and landed inside my leg next to my knee cap. It really didn’t bleed but there was a white ball in inside flesh sticking out if the small hole. I pretended that it didn’t hurt but I ended up having to go to hospital and get the metal removed. So I still have my wood splitting scar on my knee.
I even climbed trees all the time. Be it to get an apple of just to go up there and sit. I even had dreams that Donny Osmond would stop and see me sitting in the tree and climb up and join me. I had all the good climbing trees names along with the spots that were best for sitting. My favorite was the queen tree. This is where Donny and I would sit in my daydreams hiding from the world in my green world.
My first time I was permitted to use the chain saw I felt like I had really grown up. I had made it in the world. Then my son and I started going camping all the time and my dad gave me my own chain saw to cut the wood I got from the firewood man or from the saw mill. It was one of his, a small one, just perfect. Then even better, I got my very own chain saw for Christmas from my dad. I was so happy. I loved getting tools and this was my treasure. I finally had MY own chain saw. This way I could saw my wood into chopable pieces and then ax and hatchet that stuff up into the perfect firewood size. I was finally content. I needed no more in life..jejeje
So now that you know the history and you will understand why this tree chopping story was so amazing to me....
I got up early before the sun hit my balcony full force to make some jewelry. I had to grind down some coconut shells into pendant size pieces and use the dremel to rout out different Taino type designs on the shell. Then polish the shell and drill some holes to make little necklaces. I was out on the balcony with my goggles on grinding away when this truck load of men pulled up to the park. There were 5 men in the back and 2 suit type men in the front. All got out and was looking up into the tree. I tried to look like I wasn’t looking and kept working. Soon the machetes came out and some very old rustic wobble ladders were leaned on the side of the tree. these machete holding men went up the ladder and crawled out to the edge of different branches. All this while holding onto their machetes. Then they started hacking away at the branches. They were trimming the tree!
This tree is huge, as you can see in the picture. If you know the park at Fort San Jose near the Malecon in Colonial Zone you will know the trees. This particular tree was huge. It looked like it was hit by some large storm and had a part that was cut away years past but it all grew up again. This tree was so nice. I wish I knew what type it was but the leaves made a nice brushing sound when the breeze hit them. The trunk was for sure to large to be huggable. This is one fine tree. If you get a chance just go and visit this tree. I'm sure it will know you were there just to see it.
I just could not fathom that there were no safety measures. Holding machetes and climbing a tree. Two of the men had hard hats and the others did not. Heres me grinding coconut shells using safety glasses and they're chopping trees and using nothing. They all did have work gloves on. I guess they wanted to keep their hands soft..jejej. I had to take a picture of these men but I didn’t want to let them see me do that so the pictures didn’t turn out. The matte of the tree was too dense. Since I couldn’t get a good photo I had to share this with someone that would appreciate what I was seeing so I called back to Pennsylvania to tell my dad what I was seeing first hand. This was too good not to share with my daddy the tree surgeon.
Finally the men finished hacking at that tree. They left the cuts all ragged and frayed. We never did that. All had to be clean and the larger cuts had to be tarred. These men did nothing. Just hacked away at its poor tree and left it looking mangled. Then they picked up most of the fallen branches and moved on to the next tree to hack that one. Leaving me to get back and focus on my coconut grinding once again.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
The Beast from Nagua Beach
A group of friends decided to take me with them for a few days on their quest for the big wave. They are surfers and on weekends they go around to surfing spots. I don't surf but I can always find something to do while they are in the water. I love exploring new places and meeting new humans. As long is there are people to talk to, sights to see and Presidente beer to drink I can be very content.
They decided to head to Nagua. I had been there before with some of my closest friends, Tony and Lenin, whose families live there. It is a fun city for sure. I love the saying for the town,"A Nagua tu entras si quieres, y sales si puedes" (translated, Enter Nagua if you want, leave if you can). Which I did not understand until I was there. (I also have a Barcelo Ron video on my web site which starts out with that saying.
The surfers took me to a beach where there were no humans. It had a strong wave. It didn't seem like a public beach as it had lots of debris on it. There was also a wall where the water washed away the sand and made a big drop off about as tall as I (5"9'). So I was sitting on this sand ledge watching the surfers doing their thing when these 3 children came over to investigate as to why this lone Gringa was sitting on their beach.
They were talking to me and they pointed to a small house almost directly on the beach. I figured this was where they lived. They were talking fast and I told them I do not understand that they need to talk slow because my Spanish is bad. So of course, instead of talking slower they talked louder. They thought I didn't understand because I couldn't hear. I told them again and they talked even louder, not slower. Finally I got them to understand and their voices returned to normal level.
This took a while but I finally got the story. One girl, the youngest, maybe about 7 was so animated when she was telling the story. She was jumping around and getting all excited. The older girl, maybe around 10 was sitting calmly and agreeing with the younger one and adding a little more description to the story. The little boy, maybe about 6, was too busy being hyper and making the sand wall fall down, smiling at me and flirting in his little boy way.
So heres the story as I understood it..
There is a beast that lives in the rocks in the distance. He is long, sort of dragon-lizard like. It can walk and leaves foot prints in the sand (about as large as my size 10 feet they said). It is very mean and only comes out at night. They have seen it on the rocks sometimes but they got to afraid to really look at it. This creature stalks the beach at night looking for dead fish and little children to eat. It had a large mouth and big giant teeth. It also has red eyes that glow in the dark. It has a long tail that drags behind it and leaves a trail on the sand. It makes a hissing sound that they could hear sometimes when they are in their beds. It is the color of the sand.
The way I understood it is it is a story the parents tell the children to keep them off the beach at night. A Boogy man story of the sea.
This story took a long time to tell, at least an hour. My lack of understanding Spanish was the biggest problem. During the story I had to make them explain in words I could understand. They had to draw things in the sad and dance around while they were telling this story. With the oldest sister chiming it to tell the younger when she said something wrong and the little boy coming over, wide eyed adding his 2 cents when he felt appropriate. If only I had a video camera at the time. It would have been a great tape.
After the story the kids wanted me to go to their house which was close on the beach. There was lots of people moving around the home as the girls held my hands telling me something else that I had no clue of what they were saying. The boy was in front walking backwards probably to make sure I was really following.
We walked around to the front of the house and a wonderful scent hit me dead on. I saw what all the adults were doing. Over a fire where was a pig roasting. Snout and tail still entact. They were placing this hugh feast on a cement table that was attached to the house. The smell was so wonderful. I was making yummy sounds because I didn't know the words to say. They were inviting me to have some of their piggy dinner.
I excused myself and walked to the street where there was a Colmado and bought a few Grande Presidente beers for my donation to the feast.
I returned and they gave me some of this meat that had been alive probably that same morning. It was so good and of course the kids were watching the Gringa eat like they never saw a person eat before. I didn't think I ate much differently than them but I guess I was wrong by the way they watched me.
I couldn't stay long as I didn't want the surfers to return and I wasn't there. Also I was feeling a little uncomfortable sitting there in my bating suit with a scarf wrapped around my bottom. There were a few of the men that made me feel as if I had no cloths on at all the way they were looking at me.
So I thanked them all and went back to my spot on the beach alone. The kids stayed behind. I sat down and was laughing to myself out loud remembering the children telling me their story, savoring the pig juices left over in my mouth, and waited with baited breath for the surfers to return. Keeping an eye out incase I caught a glimpse of the "Beast from Nagua Beach"
They decided to head to Nagua. I had been there before with some of my closest friends, Tony and Lenin, whose families live there. It is a fun city for sure. I love the saying for the town,"A Nagua tu entras si quieres, y sales si puedes" (translated, Enter Nagua if you want, leave if you can). Which I did not understand until I was there. (I also have a Barcelo Ron video on my web site which starts out with that saying.
The surfers took me to a beach where there were no humans. It had a strong wave. It didn't seem like a public beach as it had lots of debris on it. There was also a wall where the water washed away the sand and made a big drop off about as tall as I (5"9'). So I was sitting on this sand ledge watching the surfers doing their thing when these 3 children came over to investigate as to why this lone Gringa was sitting on their beach.
They were talking to me and they pointed to a small house almost directly on the beach. I figured this was where they lived. They were talking fast and I told them I do not understand that they need to talk slow because my Spanish is bad. So of course, instead of talking slower they talked louder. They thought I didn't understand because I couldn't hear. I told them again and they talked even louder, not slower. Finally I got them to understand and their voices returned to normal level.
This took a while but I finally got the story. One girl, the youngest, maybe about 7 was so animated when she was telling the story. She was jumping around and getting all excited. The older girl, maybe around 10 was sitting calmly and agreeing with the younger one and adding a little more description to the story. The little boy, maybe about 6, was too busy being hyper and making the sand wall fall down, smiling at me and flirting in his little boy way.
So heres the story as I understood it..
There is a beast that lives in the rocks in the distance. He is long, sort of dragon-lizard like. It can walk and leaves foot prints in the sand (about as large as my size 10 feet they said). It is very mean and only comes out at night. They have seen it on the rocks sometimes but they got to afraid to really look at it. This creature stalks the beach at night looking for dead fish and little children to eat. It had a large mouth and big giant teeth. It also has red eyes that glow in the dark. It has a long tail that drags behind it and leaves a trail on the sand. It makes a hissing sound that they could hear sometimes when they are in their beds. It is the color of the sand.
The way I understood it is it is a story the parents tell the children to keep them off the beach at night. A Boogy man story of the sea.
This story took a long time to tell, at least an hour. My lack of understanding Spanish was the biggest problem. During the story I had to make them explain in words I could understand. They had to draw things in the sad and dance around while they were telling this story. With the oldest sister chiming it to tell the younger when she said something wrong and the little boy coming over, wide eyed adding his 2 cents when he felt appropriate. If only I had a video camera at the time. It would have been a great tape.
After the story the kids wanted me to go to their house which was close on the beach. There was lots of people moving around the home as the girls held my hands telling me something else that I had no clue of what they were saying. The boy was in front walking backwards probably to make sure I was really following.
We walked around to the front of the house and a wonderful scent hit me dead on. I saw what all the adults were doing. Over a fire where was a pig roasting. Snout and tail still entact. They were placing this hugh feast on a cement table that was attached to the house. The smell was so wonderful. I was making yummy sounds because I didn't know the words to say. They were inviting me to have some of their piggy dinner.
I excused myself and walked to the street where there was a Colmado and bought a few Grande Presidente beers for my donation to the feast.
I returned and they gave me some of this meat that had been alive probably that same morning. It was so good and of course the kids were watching the Gringa eat like they never saw a person eat before. I didn't think I ate much differently than them but I guess I was wrong by the way they watched me.
I couldn't stay long as I didn't want the surfers to return and I wasn't there. Also I was feeling a little uncomfortable sitting there in my bating suit with a scarf wrapped around my bottom. There were a few of the men that made me feel as if I had no cloths on at all the way they were looking at me.
So I thanked them all and went back to my spot on the beach alone. The kids stayed behind. I sat down and was laughing to myself out loud remembering the children telling me their story, savoring the pig juices left over in my mouth, and waited with baited breath for the surfers to return. Keeping an eye out incase I caught a glimpse of the "Beast from Nagua Beach"
Monday, January 08, 2007
Dia de los Reyes/Three Kings Day
Dia de los Reyes
My first Christmas in Colonial Zone all was still so new to me. But then I try to always look at things as if I'm seeing them for the first time. Makes life so much more interesting this way. Anyhow...
The 3 Kings Day..I had never heard of Dia de los Reyes before. I had no idea it even existed. Sure I knew about the 3 kings but I didn't know that people celebrated this day. So when I saw all this commotion in the park in front of my apartment early one morning a week after New Years day I didn't know what was happening. So I got my cup of coffee and dragged my milk crates to the balcony to watch (I used milk crates because the plastic chair didn't reach high enough to sit and see over the balcony edge. 2 milk crates with a cushion on top worked just fine).
I thought the holidays were over but I guess I was wrong. This big truck pulls up towing a giant flat bed all decked out with Christmas decorations and some hugh speakers. It took a while for the truck to get the flat bed in the correct place. Going back and forth, over the curbs, almost hitting the telephone pole. In fact, it did scrape the pole and the wires were waving. I thought the pole was going to come down as it was not in the best shape to begin with.
But the flat bed was in place and the truck left. During all this there was a line forming along the wall down to the entrance to the restaurant La Bahia. More and more kids with their parents were getting in this line. Going around the Colmado and continuing down the street. I had no idea what was happening and the neighbors were just moseying around the park watching the flat bed turn into a stage and going about their daily business. As I was getting more curious. This was a normal event for them but I had no clue, as usual. So I went and got showered and dressed and thought I'd wander outside and to the Colmado to see what was going on.
By the time I made it outside the line of jumping happy kids with their parents in tow was moving slowly toward the restaurant and there was all types of kids in the park with their folks. I cut into the line and got into the Colmado and asked what was happening. Thomas, the Colmado guy, was really busy. He was the only one working so I at least got a few of the items I knew to help him out and collected some money for the candy the kids were buying. But he didn't have the time to tell me what was happening. My Spanish isn't that good and it takes time for someone to talk to me and for us both to understand. But I did figure out that these kids were getting numbers from the restaurant that they would use in a drawing for gifts. So I just had to wait and see what would happen next.
The park gang, my neighbors were already claiming our normal bench, I guess it was before the people from outside of the neighborhood could take our bench. They are very possessive about their territory. So I joined them. Trying to find out what was going on without looking too stupid. They were already starting on a bottle of rum, but then it was almost noon by this time. It was going to be a long day. There were 2 large bottles of Brugal Anejo, a bottle of coke and one of 7up along with a stack of styrofoam glasses and a cooler with ice. They were ready. One neighbor was setting up her little stand, she sold meatballs from the bench. And Cesar and Euclau were already getting the hamburger cart ready. This was a big day for sure.
So I went and got Sniffy (my dog) and came back down to fill my glass from the neighborhood alcohol stash and started to concentrate on the events going on around the stage.
It seems that it was a radio station. The Bahia restaurant collected presents for the kids. or they were just the place that the tickets were being handed out, never was sure about that. The kids all got these tickets. The radio people drew the tickets and the kids got to go onto the stage and they got a present. I felt sorry for the kids because the announcers were taking their time and making jokes and such when all these kids wanted was their presents. But the kids waited patiently. A bit rambunctious but they were on the average good.
They got good presents too. Most of them were bikes, nice bikes. There were transformer robots, tea sets. All the presents were good stuff. There was one little boy. They gave him a box and he started crying. He just stood on the stage crying. He wouldn't leave the stage. He wanted a bike. He was not going to leave until he got the bike. (I would have not let him have anything if he was mine after he started making a scene by yelling and crying). He got his bike and left the stage. Many of the kids were so cute and grateful for what they got. Many were dressed in their finest. Little girls in frilly dresses and ruffle socks, little boys in nice pants and shirts. It was really nice to see these kids getting presents where maybe their parents could not afford to get them something nice.
It finally was over as the sun went down. The truck took the stage back to where it came from. The kids left with their parents. There was a little garbage in the park but most was picked up in garbage bags left by the pole where garbage was picked up. What was left we neighbors walked around and picked up. All in all it was a nice day. I learned something new. I found out about what Dia de los Reyes was. I did go and read up on it a little after. I also found out that after this day, for sure, the Christmas holiday had come to an official end.
My first Christmas in Colonial Zone all was still so new to me. But then I try to always look at things as if I'm seeing them for the first time. Makes life so much more interesting this way. Anyhow...
The 3 Kings Day..I had never heard of Dia de los Reyes before. I had no idea it even existed. Sure I knew about the 3 kings but I didn't know that people celebrated this day. So when I saw all this commotion in the park in front of my apartment early one morning a week after New Years day I didn't know what was happening. So I got my cup of coffee and dragged my milk crates to the balcony to watch (I used milk crates because the plastic chair didn't reach high enough to sit and see over the balcony edge. 2 milk crates with a cushion on top worked just fine).
I thought the holidays were over but I guess I was wrong. This big truck pulls up towing a giant flat bed all decked out with Christmas decorations and some hugh speakers. It took a while for the truck to get the flat bed in the correct place. Going back and forth, over the curbs, almost hitting the telephone pole. In fact, it did scrape the pole and the wires were waving. I thought the pole was going to come down as it was not in the best shape to begin with.
But the flat bed was in place and the truck left. During all this there was a line forming along the wall down to the entrance to the restaurant La Bahia. More and more kids with their parents were getting in this line. Going around the Colmado and continuing down the street. I had no idea what was happening and the neighbors were just moseying around the park watching the flat bed turn into a stage and going about their daily business. As I was getting more curious. This was a normal event for them but I had no clue, as usual. So I went and got showered and dressed and thought I'd wander outside and to the Colmado to see what was going on.
By the time I made it outside the line of jumping happy kids with their parents in tow was moving slowly toward the restaurant and there was all types of kids in the park with their folks. I cut into the line and got into the Colmado and asked what was happening. Thomas, the Colmado guy, was really busy. He was the only one working so I at least got a few of the items I knew to help him out and collected some money for the candy the kids were buying. But he didn't have the time to tell me what was happening. My Spanish isn't that good and it takes time for someone to talk to me and for us both to understand. But I did figure out that these kids were getting numbers from the restaurant that they would use in a drawing for gifts. So I just had to wait and see what would happen next.
The park gang, my neighbors were already claiming our normal bench, I guess it was before the people from outside of the neighborhood could take our bench. They are very possessive about their territory. So I joined them. Trying to find out what was going on without looking too stupid. They were already starting on a bottle of rum, but then it was almost noon by this time. It was going to be a long day. There were 2 large bottles of Brugal Anejo, a bottle of coke and one of 7up along with a stack of styrofoam glasses and a cooler with ice. They were ready. One neighbor was setting up her little stand, she sold meatballs from the bench. And Cesar and Euclau were already getting the hamburger cart ready. This was a big day for sure.
So I went and got Sniffy (my dog) and came back down to fill my glass from the neighborhood alcohol stash and started to concentrate on the events going on around the stage.
It seems that it was a radio station. The Bahia restaurant collected presents for the kids. or they were just the place that the tickets were being handed out, never was sure about that. The kids all got these tickets. The radio people drew the tickets and the kids got to go onto the stage and they got a present. I felt sorry for the kids because the announcers were taking their time and making jokes and such when all these kids wanted was their presents. But the kids waited patiently. A bit rambunctious but they were on the average good.
They got good presents too. Most of them were bikes, nice bikes. There were transformer robots, tea sets. All the presents were good stuff. There was one little boy. They gave him a box and he started crying. He just stood on the stage crying. He wouldn't leave the stage. He wanted a bike. He was not going to leave until he got the bike. (I would have not let him have anything if he was mine after he started making a scene by yelling and crying). He got his bike and left the stage. Many of the kids were so cute and grateful for what they got. Many were dressed in their finest. Little girls in frilly dresses and ruffle socks, little boys in nice pants and shirts. It was really nice to see these kids getting presents where maybe their parents could not afford to get them something nice.
It finally was over as the sun went down. The truck took the stage back to where it came from. The kids left with their parents. There was a little garbage in the park but most was picked up in garbage bags left by the pole where garbage was picked up. What was left we neighbors walked around and picked up. All in all it was a nice day. I learned something new. I found out about what Dia de los Reyes was. I did go and read up on it a little after. I also found out that after this day, for sure, the Christmas holiday had come to an official end.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
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?
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?
Sunday, November 12, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
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.
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.
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