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.