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!
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Monday, June 26, 2006
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!
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!
Friday, June 02, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
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...
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...
Sunday, April 23, 2006
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!
Monday, April 10, 2006
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....
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....
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
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.
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.
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