A few weeks ago, I boarded a jetBlue flight scheduled to land in the Cibao International Airport in Santiago, Dominican Republic at around 4:00 in the afternoon. It wasn?t long before an excited Dominican gentleman shouted, ?Preparen las manos... ?S?benlas!? when right at that instant, the aircraft wheels hit the runway, and a massive round of applause invaded the cabin and almost hushed the gentleman?s loud expression, ?Prep?rate chivo, que voy pa?ll?!?
Right after the hand clapping was over, there was silence, and it was only then that my guts began to revolt and my thoughts became mush with the sound of my parent?s constant beating of the clause, ??Ten cuidado, mi hijo!?
A phrase roughly translated into English as, ?Take care, my son!?
And that saying represents only the tip of the iceberg, due to the underlying and deep horror stories contained within that construction, of people that somehow were either related to us or known to our family as friends, which have either been mugged, assaulted in some way, or even murdered in a cold-blooded fashion by either criminals or even the Dominican police themselves!
Roughly about an hour had passed since the landing when I found myself renting an SUV and exchanging some dollars into pesos when I suddenly realized that my turning of the guts and mushed thoughts syndromes were not going to leave me alone for the rest of the trip! I mean I was trembling with fear everywhere I stopped, pacing back and forth, with pupils wide open, and a tremendous ?flee or fight? adrenalin rush that could not possibly be described on paper or to a psychiatrist in any manner. It was that bad!
There seems to be a Dominican psychological terror attack amongst ourselves that is represented in every possible manner and way of living that we have, and it is invading the way that we construct our homes (With the fortified concrete walls, steel bars, and heavy locks), the ?Wild West? cantina scenes from old cowboy movies (Everyone carries a gun!), to the roughness of the terrain and the need of heavy, all-terrain vehicles that invades the city of Santiago.
What is going on here? Is it really that bad over there?
I hope that this experience does not only belong to me, and that there are others who feel the same way about this ?Cuco de la noche? that is taking away our paradisal and peaceful island livelihood!
Right after the hand clapping was over, there was silence, and it was only then that my guts began to revolt and my thoughts became mush with the sound of my parent?s constant beating of the clause, ??Ten cuidado, mi hijo!?
A phrase roughly translated into English as, ?Take care, my son!?
And that saying represents only the tip of the iceberg, due to the underlying and deep horror stories contained within that construction, of people that somehow were either related to us or known to our family as friends, which have either been mugged, assaulted in some way, or even murdered in a cold-blooded fashion by either criminals or even the Dominican police themselves!
Roughly about an hour had passed since the landing when I found myself renting an SUV and exchanging some dollars into pesos when I suddenly realized that my turning of the guts and mushed thoughts syndromes were not going to leave me alone for the rest of the trip! I mean I was trembling with fear everywhere I stopped, pacing back and forth, with pupils wide open, and a tremendous ?flee or fight? adrenalin rush that could not possibly be described on paper or to a psychiatrist in any manner. It was that bad!
There seems to be a Dominican psychological terror attack amongst ourselves that is represented in every possible manner and way of living that we have, and it is invading the way that we construct our homes (With the fortified concrete walls, steel bars, and heavy locks), the ?Wild West? cantina scenes from old cowboy movies (Everyone carries a gun!), to the roughness of the terrain and the need of heavy, all-terrain vehicles that invades the city of Santiago.
What is going on here? Is it really that bad over there?
I hope that this experience does not only belong to me, and that there are others who feel the same way about this ?Cuco de la noche? that is taking away our paradisal and peaceful island livelihood!