Trip report, eh? Ok, here goes... Long and uneventful, so read or skip.
I spent a week in the DR in mid-December, for the first time in three years or thereabouts. The trip had two purposes: Firstly to arse around. Second, to catch up with old friends as well as to make new ones. Landed in Puerto Plata, from London. Spent most of my time in Boca Chica/San Pedro de M.,
and a night in Santiago.
What struck me on the way down from PP, and in the first couple of days in
Boca Chica was that it had been a looong time. It took me a bit to get into
the right frame of mind, so those days were soso. I felt bothered by the regular scum, and negotiated poorly. Adjusted fast though.
Boca Chica. Needless to say most of my friends from Calle Duarte had moved
on, hopefully to greater things. I still managed to get my butt whipped in chess though, so the more things change, the more they stayed the same.
That was my general feeling of Boca Chica. A bit quiet, but same old story.
I quite like it that way.
Dolores was alive and as well as one would expect, and that pleased me a lot. More so that she remembered me, but had forgotten all the promises I had made to her previously - esp the bit about marrying her. Others somehow
knew who I was too and that was both nice and convenient.
The fun bit in Boca Chica was that I seemingly annoyed one of the locals so much that he found it worthwhile wanting to kill me. I'm not sure whether to feel scared or honoured that a person actually feels so strongly about me..
He was one of those Haitian/Dominican guys who hang around outside of
restaurants etc there with nothing to do but beg food/beer/money of passing
gringos. Esp. those who are as fat and white as me.. those seemingly most
ripe. I used to have a lot of friends among them 'cos I played football with
them, but that was then, not now. I was fairly open towards him, but I never give something for nothing. However, he soon proved to be a complete jerk.
He had little luck in getting something out of me, and he became increasingly
frustrated as a result. More so as I, as a smartass, tended to respond in kind.
If he had his birthday on Tuesday, I had mine on Wednesday as well as a dying mother. I saw him and doubled - you can't beat a dying mother. Finally
he snapped and got quite aggressive. After all he had gone through, and all
that he had done for me, he had gotten nought but grief in return. How did I dare? After all, he was the "bo(ss)" of BC. That bad eh? Tough luck for Boca
Chica that even the 20 year old bo had to spends his days begging pesos from tourists... When I asked him exactly what he had provided me of food,
drink, accomodation or other, and what I had ever asked of him, he couldn't
put his fingers on what.. Lot of stuff though.
The final drop was perhaps
my concilliatory suggestion that he'd give me a BJ for 5 pesos. Apparantly he
wasn't that kind of guy, but it seemed to me that he most definately was.
I figured we could just agree to disagree and part ways as friends, but he didn't go for that. He swore to kill me and that was that.
Ye can't win them all, can ye..
Personally I'm ok with such parasites, it's what I'll meet when I travel like I do. I'm also confident that I could have dealt with him had I been forced
to. Still, I don't think Boca Chica or its tourism benefit from having only a
couple of those around. Fair enough, I'm a single, male, gob****e and I don't back off, but few would find these types pleasant company.
As it is, I'm not sure if I'd be comfortable with my mother there, for example, though she loves it. Even so, this time my regret was that I didn't challenge him to meet me at the beach at 05.30 the following morning in order to settle our business like men. Obviously I left the same evening, but it would have given
him a great opportunity to enjoy the lovely sunrise in solitude, and to ponder
certain facts of life.
I stayed in... Calypso??? 35 USD per night, and ok
value for money. I got what I wanted for a price I was willing to pay, I don't
travel to sit in a hotel room. Somehow I didn't make it to the beach when I
was there.. More people were met, and other stuff happened but it's even
less interesting than the first story.
As my best friends had moved to San Pedro de M., I did so too, after a bit of
tracking. First I stayed in what should be the best hotel in town, Howard Johnson, and then in what was probably the worst. The first was 35 USD, still by far better than Calypso but a bit too sterile for me. The second was.. 7USD or so? Not sterile at all, and I had to take certain precautions with
security, sanitation etc. I loved it, and slept as well as I've ever done.
SP de M. was nice enough, obviously much bigger than BC, and a different
night life. I really enjoyed sitting at the malecon at night, drinking beer and
doing nought. Every ten meter there was a vendor or some sort, selling a
beer or two, pumping out music one louder than the other. Lovely evenings. I did get to know a couple of people, and I spent a lot of time waffling with a kid polishing shoes. These can be a bit dodgy, and his friends sat down next to me when he left. Unlike him, they kept quiet when I tried to talk to them.. Strange I thought.. Why then sit down like that?? Last time I had that, it was with a bunch wanting to rob me.. HANG ON?????????????!!!!!!!!!!! I left and sat down somewhere else.
Later my first friend sat down again, and told me his friends wanted to rob me that night, but that he had said no. It made no difference to me as I had already given him my money for his job on my shoes, and I had spent the rest buying him crisps etc.. But he followed me back to H. Johnson just in case. I brought my book and my empty bottle of presidente to be on the safe side.
My family there was doing more or less ok. Extremely hospitable as always, but they had the same worries that I suppose ordinary Dominicans have..
They always offered me food - beans, rice and chicken, and I wanted to return the favour by inviting them all out. I told them that this wouldn't happen often, so they'd better pick the best and most expensive. We somehow ended up on Pollo Vitorino or something, for some serious amounts of beans, rice, and chicken..... That's their way, and who am I to judge?
That family is quite close to me and were recently the first victims of a money transfer from here. I also hope to be able to provide the infrastructure
and the opportunity for the youngest daughter to make it to university, if she's got sufficient drive to succeed. It won't be easy for a girl from a barrio
to overcome all the structural constraints to make it out though..
All good things have an end, and I went home via Santiago and Puerto Plata.
Santiago had a really nice atmosphere I thought, but I could only stay one
night. Hotel Colonial I think, central, 30 USD+, quite ok too for that kind of
money. I got what I needed. If there's a next time I hope to spend more time
there, and get to know that area more. It'd be well worth it.
The coach from Santiago to Puerto Plata had one passenger more than seats, and usually being the odd guy out, I was on the floor. I sat there with
a group of a capella, religious, Haitian singers from a church in Santo Domingo. Great fun, and we had lively discussions in English, French and Spanish on Dominican - Haitian, and religious topics. Neither do I speak the
languages, nor did I know anything about the topics, but right there on the
floor of a Caribe Tours coach to Puerto Plata it all made perfect sense. To this day I wonder how I escaped being the lead in a funky, spontaneous Haitian sing song..
Anyways, that's more than enough. Heartfelt thanks to all those on this
website that helped me in one way or another when I was there. It made it
all the more easier...
(10)
J for Jerk. Boca Chica. December.
