September 21, 2008 - Santiago, Dominican Republic

It has taken me longer than I had previously anticipated to post another blog. This is not due to a lack of events to recount, but rather the lack of time and motivation to sit down and put my thoughts in order and translate my experiences into words. I will attempt to do so, although I feel as though I still lack the motivation. One experience worth recounting that happened since my previous blog post was that I went with the majority of my class to a beach outside the city. We met at the school, and after an hour of waiting for everyone to arrive, we took a public bus, or guagua, to the area of the city where larger buses leave from to other areas of the country. We quickly came upon a bus that would drop us off at the beach. Once we were on the road and approaching the beach I went to the driver to remind him as to where we would like to be dropped. He nodded, signifying his comprehension, but apparently he did not understand. Around five minutes later I look out the window and I see we are driving past the beach I had asked him to stop at. We are in the inside lane, going quite fast, but I yell out, "CHOFER!! DEJANOS AQUI!! AQUI!!" He slams his foot to the brake and pulls to the side of the road. As we exit the vehicle, quite shaken, he chuckles at us. Though the ride there was interesting, the beach was beautiful and we spent most of our time diving through the large waves and playing frisbee. We all grew quite hungry, so myself and another girl organized for a man to drive us to the nearest place that sold food. This happened to be about 2 kilometers away, so we squeezed on to his tiny motorcycle and made our way there. Once the food was ordered we climbed back on the tiny bike and made our way back to the beach, trying to juggle the many bags of food the whole return trip. After a sufficient amount of hours on the beach we made our way to the highway and waited for a public bus to stop to pick us up. We did not have to wait long and we were soon back in the city. We hired a very run down van to drive us all home, paying the driver a fair, yet very low amount of money to do so. Over all, it was an eventful, interesting day.
I have spent the last few weeks looking for a new apartment. A girl in my class from Texas has been living in a hotel for the past month and is in need of a room mate. I get along with my current room mate, but I feel as though she is not comfortable with me having people over, as she made clear to me one night when I invited a few friends over. I am not comfortable living like this. It is mostly likely a cultural difference between us, but I know that living with my classmate will be much more comfortable and home-like for me, not to mention I will not have to buy furniture for me room. We shall see what happens, but I am hoping for a place where I can feel as at home as possible in.
Another experience worth noting is our class' visit to a public school in a poor, northern sector of the city. We went to the school to play games with and give treats to the youngest age group of children. It was blisteringly hot that day and the school had very little ventilation. I know I received some definite heat stroke in the few hours we were there. In the classrooms, the children were very well behaved and we all thoroughly enjoyed singing and playing with them. They seemed very grateful for the treats they received and sang songs for us in gratitude. During their recess, though, the children transformed into crazy, overly energetic animals. They surrounded every one of us, begging for us to repeatedly take pictures of them, asking us the same questions in English over and over again, pinning us against the walls to get our autographs or email addresses, or jumping up on us trying to climb up onto our backs and shoulders. I have never felt so overwhelmed in my life. The amount of chaos during those 20 minutes was much too much for me to handle. Although, even with heat stroke and the chaos with the children, it was still an excellent and memorable experience. Later that evening a small group of us made our way north to the city of Santiago, the second largest city in the country. The bus ride went by quickly and was very enjoyable. Once we arrived in the city we were picked up and some of us were driven to Cabania. The best definition of what a cabania is, is a hotel that you pay by the hour and provides its customers with utmost privacy. In other words, it is a hotel to bring prostitutes or mistresses. However, it was the cheapest place to stay in the city, so we packed four of us in the room (3 girls on the bed and 1 boy on the couch in front of the door). It was quite an experience, fully equipped with condoms and lubricant in a basket on the table, a mirror on the whole of the wall next to the bed, a horrible singing man all night outside our room, and our own garage. In the morning, after little sleep (due to the singing man), we were taken to a house (which had absolutely spectacular views of the mountains and the valley) and fed breakfast, then whisked off to a water park outside the city. We spent the entire day on the water slides having a blast. We then returned to the house where we were fed breakfast. We decided to stay there that night, a room of seven with one bed (3 on the bed and 4 on the floor). We took a short nap upon returning from the water park. Upon waking, we all began to make ourselves presentable to go to a club in town. This process was quite long as it was nine people sharing one shower. Once we were all ready we headed into town, first grabbing a quick bite to eat, then made our way to a club. We were met there by two other friends from Santo Domingo and some of their friends. The club, the music, the dancing, it all became tiresome quickly, so we headed home within a couple hours of arriving. In the morning we took our time getting up and eating breakfast, then we were taken back to the bus station and sent on our way back to Santo Domingo. It was a very enjoyable trip!

August 31, 2008 - Las Terrenas, Dominican Republic

I am sitting in paradise at this very moment: beautiful sandy beaches stretching out as far as I can see, clear turquoise water lapping at my ankles, few people to block this beautiful view, and brilliant sun caressing my face. I am in a town called Las Terrenas, located on the peninsula or Samana, which is the most beautiful part of the country that I have seen so far. I came to the peninsula for the weekend with my new room mate, Raquel, to enjoy a weekend full of sun (especially after the week of horrendous rain caused by hurricane Gustav), beaches and clubs. That turned out to be exactly what we got, despite some minor condensation early on Saturday. It was a weekend of adventures indeed. Our choice of travel to the peninsula was a public minibus, or a guagua, completely full of people. Although the driver was relatively slow, especially for Dominican standards, and made far too many stops along the way, we eventually arrived into the town of Samana in under 3 hours, thanks to the newly constructed highway that now replaces the previous 5 hour route. Upon arriving, we were greeted by the mother of Raquel's friend. She quickly whisked us off along a very steep dirt path that led to their charming house atop a large hill beside the city of Samana. From the house and its property, there were absolutely spectacular views of the marina, the bay, the surrounding tiny islands (including Cayo Levantado, which contains the first Bacardi beach), and the mountains protubing in the distance. Once settled into our room, we were fed and filled with drinks. Raquel's friend, Marta, arrived home from work via motoconcho, or a motorcycle taxi. We were then fed once more, as it was dinner time, and we proceeded to get ourselves ready to go out dancing. Once that was accomplished we squeezed into the tiny car and made our way down into the town of Samana to a local bar where Marta's co-workers were. We stayed briefly, although longer than we should have, for there were no other people there and it was quite the bore. Once we had escaped the place, we made our way down the rough, winding, hilly road to Las Terrenas, a good 45 minutes away. We had only been driving about 15 short minutes when Marta hit a deep hole in the road at an inappropriately high speed, and our tire decided it could take no more. We pulled to the side of the road, looking around for someone to help us poor, helpless women change the extremely flat and bent tire. This proved to be more difficult than expected, as we had been stranded in a rather remote area, with only a few houses around. As it was around midnight, though, the lights in the houses were extinguished, making it all the more difficult for us to find help. We, however, were showered with luck, as 3 men appeared out of the darkness to assist us (sketchy i know!!). After replacing the flat tire, we bestowed up them our utmost gratitude as well as a small amount of money. With a new tire and a rush of adrenaline from the whole experience, we continued on our way to Las Terrenas. Upon entering the small town, I knew exactly why we had driven all this way: more people and better night life. Samana, on the other hand, was greatly lacking when it came to a night life. We parked the car along side the beach and made our way from bar to bar, dancing if the music was good. We finished off the rest of the night in a extremely nice club, decorated with funky sculptures, paintings, lights and furniture. Although it lacked a large crowd, the ambiance and the music made it wonderful. We danced, they drank, many pesty men came to bother us, leaving me quite irritated. Finally, after escaping the grasps of a group of Dominican guys, we made our way back down the rough, winding, hilly road to Samana. The only excitement on the return trip was a cow laying in the center of the road at the top of a hill, which we missed very slightly. By the time we finally reached the house it was well past 4 in the morning and we each fell asleep very quickly. Unfortunately, the power went out early that morning, meaning the fan was not able to perform its function. Not only was it far too hot to sleep, but with no fan came many mosquitoes. Luckily, it started to rain, producing a fresh breeze to cool us, allowing us to return to our dreams, although Raquel got quite a shower on her face through the open window. When we finally awoke from our slumber, there was a nice hot lunch on the table, equipped with salad, rice and fried fish (my mother's favorite). After fully extinguishing our hunger, we packed our bags and made our way back to Las Terrenas. The rain had stopped and the sun had emerged, making for a very pleasant drive. With the sun shining brilliantly, we arrived at our all-inclusive hotel, where we would be staying for the night. This being my first all-inclusive experience, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a small hotel, with the buildings wrapping around the pools and gardens. Marta's mother knew the owner of the hotel, so we received a very nice deal on the price of our room. We put our bags in the room and headed to one of the pools as soon as we had completed the check in process. The swim was just what the doctor ordered, a cool, refreshing experience. We remained by the pool side until the sun began to sink behind the roof tops. We, then, went on a trek to town in search of cigarettes for Marta. Once the mission was accomplished, topped off with a cherry of meetings three attractive Italian men, we returned to the hotel in time for dinner. The three of us practically cleared out the entire buffet before our stomachs told us they could not take any more. We meandered on back to our room to take a short nap before getting ready to hit the dance floor. Upon waking, my stomach told me it was in pain and that it would not permit me to go anywhere. While the other two changed into their party attire, I donned pijamas and submerged myself into my bed, with a movie playing on the television. It would be a relaxing night in for me. Early the next morning, on my standards anyway (9 am), I slipped out of the room in nothing but a bikini and shorts, making my way to the beach. I first stopped to get breakfast from the buffet, choosing to have a protein-filled omlet. I exited the hotel and crossed the street, sinking my toes into the warm sand. I walked a short while along the beach before finding a tranquil place for me to sit. So here I sit, the waves lapping at my feet, the sound of which is so peaceful. I let myself fall victim to my thoughts. Though I am in paradise at the moment, I am plagued by the visions of poverty that I witnessed throughout this trip. I know I am not a wealthy person by any means on American standards, but how the majority of the people live in this country amazes me, astounds me. How can they live with so little, and yet still be utterly happy and generous in life? I know I most certainly take for granted things I have and the opportunities I have been given. I am also a person who has had trouble being selfless when it comes to many things. In that I am nothing like the people of this country, especially those that reside in the countryside, who are constantly giving and giving and expecting little or nothing in return. There are many differences between life in the country and life in the capital city, such as the tranquility of life. In the city people are constantly in a rush to get somewhere, in the country people sit and visit with each other, taking in life, relaxing, enjoying their time with their neighbors and friends. People in the city are always in a search for more: more money, more time, more work, etc. In the country, the people take what they have and use it the best they can. Life is much simpler in the country, and I find that preferable. I often ponder if I would be capable of living as so many do here, with tiny homes, no transportation, little material things. It would certainly be difficult for me, especially as it is so different than what I am used to, from where I come from. After much thought on this topic, I slip back into the hotel. I head for one of the pools, a refreshing difference to the sandy, salty beach. I remain by the pool side until it is time to check out of the hotel. I return to the room to put my things in order. Before checking out, though, we return to the buffet to eat our lunch - our final included meal. After yet again eating as much as our stomachs have the capacity for, we check out. We do not, however, leave the hotel, for we proceed to refresh ourselves in the deserted pool and take in some sun before our journey home. A smile comes to my face, a symptom of the contentedness I feel. All in all, it certainly was a wonderful trip.