Siempre nada
Mar. 29th, 2009 08:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randy_byersThe transition to paradise was perilous. When we arrived in Punta Cana, the resort we had booked didn't have enough rooms for us, so they sent us to another resort after a fierce battle of wills with my mother. Our new home was the IFA Villas Bavaro, and as soon as we got there and got checked in, it started to pour down rain. That didn't stop those of us 48 and younger (me, my niece, her husband, my two nephews) from donning our swimming gear and hitting the pool with the bar. The pool was completely empty except for the nightmare birthday party, which was swinging in the rain, baby.
They had gotten to the resort the day before and had been drinking all day. The birthday girl was a trollish looking women who kept crying out, "It's my birthday! I'm 26! I'm 36! I'm 46!" She was wearing a tiara, and at one point she humped my youngest nephew's leg. (He's 15, almost 16.) Slightly more coherent was Dave, who told me he had just served 10 months in Bagram in Afghanistan. His job had something to do with disbursing millions of dollars to various Afghanis. He said he preferred not to think about what they did with the money. His wife was called something like Sharee, believe it or not. Probably Sherry, but it sounded like Sharee. She kept coming up to my nephews and pointing at the eldest and saying, "18," then at youngest and saying, "Jailbait." She also grabbed my niece's husband by the ass. Did I mention that they were all completely trashed?
We hung out with them for a while, huddled in a protective circle. When we left, we heard Dave explaining to a trio of cute young women who had showed up after the rain stopped that my youngest nephew wanted to see their tits. Apparently Dave hadn't yet realized that the resort was full of French and Germans, and that if he wanted to see naked breasts all he had to do was go down to the beach and look at the sophisticated sunbathers.
I went on this vacation not knowing much about the Dominican Republic and came back having learned the answers to a few trivia questions. I knew beforehand that it is located on the island of Hispaniola, which it shares with Haiti. I hadn't known that Hispaniola is the second largest island in the Caribbean, after Cuba. The DR has a population of between nine and ten million. It is Spanish speaking, so I had stupidly assumed the population would look Central American, but it is much more heavily black than I had pictured -- the descendants of sugar plantation slaves. Haitian immigrants are the bottom rung of the social ladder in the DR. The economy is also the second biggest in the region, although I'm not sure who is first. Maybe Puerto Rico? All I know is that there was a hell of a lot of construction going on, at least in the resort-heavy area of Punta Cana. The biggest city in the country is Santo Domingo, where Columbus first landed in the New World.
We never made it to Santo Domingo, which was an eight hour drive away, but we did travel a few times through Higuey, which is the largest city in that part of the island, with a population of 130,000. We had an excellent adventure there on our third day. Jake, my niece's husband, drove us there, which was a feat I'm not sure I could have handled, because the drivers are insane and the roads are full of potholes. At the beautiful basilica in Higuey, we were adopted by a tour guide named Manuel Arquimedes, who led us to a local restaurant. The meal was something of an ordeal, because they made us sit for over an hour while they served everybody else who came in. Finally Manuel intervened. We were all pretty grumpy by that point, in that way I always associate with traveling in a foreign country where you are outside your comfort zone.
But what really made the trip was that Manuel next took us to the local public market, which was just an amazing immersion into the world of that city and that country. It was an assault on the senses, with butchered meat and cow heads and lungs and entrails hanging from hooks and piled on tables. The fruits and vegetables and spices were all strange, even those I recognized or thought I recognized. (Is that taro? Manuel called it potato.) People hung around in the market, talking, watching us, happy to pose and smile for pictures. Such an incredible contrast to the orderly world of the resort, where everything was designed for our comfort and expectations. This was the real deal. That trip through the market was probably the most exciting thing that happened the whole time we were there.
There were other good times, however, including another drive the next day to a little national park where my parents got to do some birding. We tried to visit what the guide book said was a picturesque village near the port town of La Romana, but we couldn't find it. Grumpiness and bewilderment! But we made our way back to another little village we had passed through earlier, Bayahibe, with a beautiful view of a bay and a wonderful open air restaurant that served tasty Dominican seafood dishes. I was adopted by a guy named Oscar who was a Rastafarian and claimed that Bayahibe had the highest percentage of Indian blood of any place on the island. The local Indians, the Tainos, were pretty much wiped out by Spanish and French conquerors who followed in Columbus' wake (and indeed by Columbus himself). I wasn't sure I bought Oscar's claim, or what it actually meant. The tourist geegaws offered all over the place were frequently based on what we were told were Tainos designs.
The other excursion out of the resort was a day trip to Catalina Island, which required a two hour bus ride to La Romana and then a half hour boat ride. Some of us snorkeled while others dove. The snorkeling was disorganized and kind of half-assed. Lunch on a secluded beach, on the other hand, was a lovely Dominican barbeque served by lovely Dominican women. There were a lot of beautiful young women on the island, even if they are given to grotesquely garish painted finger and toenails.
Other than that it was mostly sitting around on the beach at the resort, dipping into the cool water as much as possible and trying (mostly successfully) not to get badly sunburned in the process. There was plentiful good food, and plenty to drink. At night there was usually some kind of stage show, of varying interest. I never stayed up late enough for the disco, which opened at 11:30pm, although I almost made it one night, except I was being chased by a 47-year-old, extremely drunk divorcee from Indiana. Her teenage daughter hung out with my nephews and apologized quite sweetly for her mother's bad behavior. "She's not always like this." Ha! Not that she was really behaving badly. I just wasn't interested.
I never did really adjust to the tropical heat, and I've found that a bit of a problem on these three spring break trips. I'm not sure what it's all about, and it may have more to do with the excessive consumption of food and alcohol prompted by the all-inclusive resorts. I had the least problem in the Yucatan last year, and that was bracketed by a few days spent outside of resorts. Anyway, I was feeling dazed and exhausted by the end of our stay, and I developed a wheezy cough as we left yesterday. It persists today.
So, today is a rest day, although I have laundry to do too. I really liked the Dominican Republic and would love to explore more of it, particularly the mountainous areas to the northwest. The first resort promised us a free week next year because they couldn't honor our reservations, so maybe we'll return. Not that we really expect them to honor that promise any more than they honored our reservations!
They had gotten to the resort the day before and had been drinking all day. The birthday girl was a trollish looking women who kept crying out, "It's my birthday! I'm 26! I'm 36! I'm 46!" She was wearing a tiara, and at one point she humped my youngest nephew's leg. (He's 15, almost 16.) Slightly more coherent was Dave, who told me he had just served 10 months in Bagram in Afghanistan. His job had something to do with disbursing millions of dollars to various Afghanis. He said he preferred not to think about what they did with the money. His wife was called something like Sharee, believe it or not. Probably Sherry, but it sounded like Sharee. She kept coming up to my nephews and pointing at the eldest and saying, "18," then at youngest and saying, "Jailbait." She also grabbed my niece's husband by the ass. Did I mention that they were all completely trashed?
We hung out with them for a while, huddled in a protective circle. When we left, we heard Dave explaining to a trio of cute young women who had showed up after the rain stopped that my youngest nephew wanted to see their tits. Apparently Dave hadn't yet realized that the resort was full of French and Germans, and that if he wanted to see naked breasts all he had to do was go down to the beach and look at the sophisticated sunbathers.
I went on this vacation not knowing much about the Dominican Republic and came back having learned the answers to a few trivia questions. I knew beforehand that it is located on the island of Hispaniola, which it shares with Haiti. I hadn't known that Hispaniola is the second largest island in the Caribbean, after Cuba. The DR has a population of between nine and ten million. It is Spanish speaking, so I had stupidly assumed the population would look Central American, but it is much more heavily black than I had pictured -- the descendants of sugar plantation slaves. Haitian immigrants are the bottom rung of the social ladder in the DR. The economy is also the second biggest in the region, although I'm not sure who is first. Maybe Puerto Rico? All I know is that there was a hell of a lot of construction going on, at least in the resort-heavy area of Punta Cana. The biggest city in the country is Santo Domingo, where Columbus first landed in the New World.
We never made it to Santo Domingo, which was an eight hour drive away, but we did travel a few times through Higuey, which is the largest city in that part of the island, with a population of 130,000. We had an excellent adventure there on our third day. Jake, my niece's husband, drove us there, which was a feat I'm not sure I could have handled, because the drivers are insane and the roads are full of potholes. At the beautiful basilica in Higuey, we were adopted by a tour guide named Manuel Arquimedes, who led us to a local restaurant. The meal was something of an ordeal, because they made us sit for over an hour while they served everybody else who came in. Finally Manuel intervened. We were all pretty grumpy by that point, in that way I always associate with traveling in a foreign country where you are outside your comfort zone.
But what really made the trip was that Manuel next took us to the local public market, which was just an amazing immersion into the world of that city and that country. It was an assault on the senses, with butchered meat and cow heads and lungs and entrails hanging from hooks and piled on tables. The fruits and vegetables and spices were all strange, even those I recognized or thought I recognized. (Is that taro? Manuel called it potato.) People hung around in the market, talking, watching us, happy to pose and smile for pictures. Such an incredible contrast to the orderly world of the resort, where everything was designed for our comfort and expectations. This was the real deal. That trip through the market was probably the most exciting thing that happened the whole time we were there.
There were other good times, however, including another drive the next day to a little national park where my parents got to do some birding. We tried to visit what the guide book said was a picturesque village near the port town of La Romana, but we couldn't find it. Grumpiness and bewilderment! But we made our way back to another little village we had passed through earlier, Bayahibe, with a beautiful view of a bay and a wonderful open air restaurant that served tasty Dominican seafood dishes. I was adopted by a guy named Oscar who was a Rastafarian and claimed that Bayahibe had the highest percentage of Indian blood of any place on the island. The local Indians, the Tainos, were pretty much wiped out by Spanish and French conquerors who followed in Columbus' wake (and indeed by Columbus himself). I wasn't sure I bought Oscar's claim, or what it actually meant. The tourist geegaws offered all over the place were frequently based on what we were told were Tainos designs.
The other excursion out of the resort was a day trip to Catalina Island, which required a two hour bus ride to La Romana and then a half hour boat ride. Some of us snorkeled while others dove. The snorkeling was disorganized and kind of half-assed. Lunch on a secluded beach, on the other hand, was a lovely Dominican barbeque served by lovely Dominican women. There were a lot of beautiful young women on the island, even if they are given to grotesquely garish painted finger and toenails.
Other than that it was mostly sitting around on the beach at the resort, dipping into the cool water as much as possible and trying (mostly successfully) not to get badly sunburned in the process. There was plentiful good food, and plenty to drink. At night there was usually some kind of stage show, of varying interest. I never stayed up late enough for the disco, which opened at 11:30pm, although I almost made it one night, except I was being chased by a 47-year-old, extremely drunk divorcee from Indiana. Her teenage daughter hung out with my nephews and apologized quite sweetly for her mother's bad behavior. "She's not always like this." Ha! Not that she was really behaving badly. I just wasn't interested.
I never did really adjust to the tropical heat, and I've found that a bit of a problem on these three spring break trips. I'm not sure what it's all about, and it may have more to do with the excessive consumption of food and alcohol prompted by the all-inclusive resorts. I had the least problem in the Yucatan last year, and that was bracketed by a few days spent outside of resorts. Anyway, I was feeling dazed and exhausted by the end of our stay, and I developed a wheezy cough as we left yesterday. It persists today.
So, today is a rest day, although I have laundry to do too. I really liked the Dominican Republic and would love to explore more of it, particularly the mountainous areas to the northwest. The first resort promised us a free week next year because they couldn't honor our reservations, so maybe we'll return. Not that we really expect them to honor that promise any more than they honored our reservations!
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Date: 2009-03-29 06:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 08:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 09:05 pm (UTC)I'm more familiar with the other half of the island thanks to Tracy Kidder's book Mountains Beyond Mountains about Dr. Paul Farmer's work in Haiti and beyond. Highly recommended. This interview with Tracy Kidder gives something of an overview.
What did you like about the country itself? What made you want to return?
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Date: 2009-03-29 10:55 pm (UTC)What I liked about the DR was both the landscape and the people. Also the food and the music (merengue, and another style of sad love songs the name of which I forget). However, it's worth noting that I felt the same about the Yucatan last year, and it's quite possible that I just like the Carribbean in general. I wasn't as hot about the part of Costa Rica I saw, but I really didn't see much of the country outside the resort we were in.
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Date: 2009-03-29 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-30 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-29 10:56 pm (UTC)