December in Santiago

chicker

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December 26th. I don?t want to be here at work. This looks like a good time to write my trip report. This trip ended up being more of a ?people-meeting? trip rather than a ?thing-doing? trip. So the report?s likely to be light on action and heavy on personal reflection. Kind of like a Kurt Vonnegut novel, only with considerably less plot.

Landed in the outskirts of Santiago at the new Cibao airport Wednesday evening, December 4th. A beautiful, modern building with all the amenities. I was very pleasantly surprised. Now that American Airlines has taken over TWA, it?s a snap to get from St Louis to Santiago without a long layover somewhere. Our friend Hillbilly met me at the airport and I recognized him right away from the pictures I?ve seen in the Media Gallery.

What can I say about this gentleman that hasn?t already been said on these boards? Gracious, accommodating, opinionated, friendly, helpful, patient, knowledgeable, empathetic, etc. That?s our man Hillbilly. What I didn?t know was that he knows almost everybody on the island, at least in the northern states. You?ve heard of the six degrees of separation? Well, when it comes to HB and the greater metropolitan Santiago area, it?s surely no more than 2 degrees, and more often not even that. After almost forty years of teaching at the university, if you live around Santiago, he has either taught you or one of your friends or relatives or in-laws or your doctor or banker, lawyer or landlord. It was incredible.

He knew people working at the aduana so, whereas last year it took me twenty minutes to get through with two bags; this time, with HB standing nearby, it took about twenty seconds and they only unzipped one of the three bags I had. Didn?t look inside any of them. I only dream that my reputation would ever be such that any friend of mine would get special treatment from anybody.

There wasn?t time to do much Wednesday night except to ferry me up to my hotel at Camp David Ranch a half-mile up in the mountains east of Santiago, a truly beautiful spot. An incredible view of the whole of Santiago is available from the veranda of the hotel restaurant and cold Presidentes are available, I?m here to tell you. And if you should ever have the pleasure of dining there, ask for Rafaelito, a very friendly waiter who knows about 50 words in English. He was the best of the bunch for sure.

Thursday, HB came and picked me up from Camp David and I got a deluxe tour of the town. I think he knows every inch of Santiago; which houses were built when, by whom, and what was there before. It was fascinating listening to all the history and the current events. Then we went to his place and I got to meet many members of his immediate family including his lovely wife and a three and half foot tornado named Marco, his effervescent four-year-old grandson. Cute kid, an absolute bundle of energy. If they could get a wire to stick to him, they could light most of the city with the excess energy.

OK, this is going to have to be part one, as it is time to go home. Later on I?ll be telling you about my trip to Sosua, Eddy?s Angels, and how I foiled my own plan to bring 3 cases of Presidente back to Missouri.

Hasta luego,
Mike B
 
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chicker

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the saga continueth

Dec 27, Friday. Sciatica acting up from having shoveled 8 inches of snow off my driveway on Christmas Day. No joke. Give me a Caribbean Christmas any day.
I should preface this next installment by saying that the reason I was in Santiago was primarily to check up on my sponsored children and secondarily to meet folks like Hillbilly whom I?ve only known by way of this website and some Emails. My first trip was in October of 2001 and it was then that I fell in love with this place. Life's just funny like that, isn't it?

It was Thursday afternoon, Dec 5. I had a huge bag of baseball bats, gloves, hats and catcher?s equipment with me and I didn?t want to clutter up HB?s house with it so he drove me to the project office to store it there and, of course, he knew more than a few of the people that worked there; far and wide he is known as El Profesor. It really helps to have this man as a friend. I can?t begin to tell you the difference in how I was treated by the people at the project office once I showed up with him. Amazing.

Then we went to scout locations for a party I was going to throw for all the sponsored kids at the Monument on Monday. Having located a suitable cafe, we headed back to the HB compound. It had been a lot of driving around and tour-guiding for one day, and HB had other work to do, so I headed back to the Hotel Camp David Ranch before sunset and sat out on the veranda and caught up on my spanish language newspaper reading and downed about ten Presidentes. ?How come you don?t get drunk?? my waiter Rafaelito wanted to know. ?I don?t know? I said, ?maybe they forgot to put alcohol in this batch.?

Friday morning, up and out by 8:30AM. The taxi that I was riding in sounded like it was dragging a sink full of silverware under the chassis. ?What?s all that noise?? I wanted to know. ?I pray we make it? was the driver?s answer. We didn?t. When it finally happened, I thought we?d snapped an axle. The noise! He kept screeching and scraping along the street until he found a mecanico. They jacked the car up with me still in it, got some tools, beat on a few things and before too long we were on our way again. Milagro chiquito. I don?t know how those hunks of junk keep rolling.

We visited my oldest sponsored child, who?s almost 17, first. I had visited her house last year so everybody knew me. She?s been our sponsored child since age 6 and might have an outside chance of getting into university. A lovely well-mannered girl who just needs a bit more determination. Last year I brought them a CD player and a bunch of CDs. I brought more CDs and some books, but we had no electricity for the whole three hours of the visit there. Too bad, I was prepared to serenade the room with my touching rendition of La Media Vuelta which I had rehearsed for months. But without accompaniment, I was reluctant to croon. Well, the gas was still working so her mom fixed us all yuca and chuletas and I have to say, it was mighty tasty.

Then we journeyed a long way outside of Santiago to a place called Hato del Yaqui (sp?) where sponsored child #2 lives with his mom and brother. That was one badass little barrio, I?ll tell you. Most of the kids didn?t have shoes and there was a lot of them around for a Friday afternoon so I don?t know what percentage of the kids in that neighborhood go to school. I agree that most of the dominican people I?ve met are very positive and hopeful and friendly, but to be honest, I didn?t see a lot a smiles as we navigated the ruts and the rocks to get to this kid?s house. Well, without loading down this report with too many more details, I?ll just say that I?m working with the organization to see if I can help improve their living conditions.

Friday night, Luis (aka Hillbilly) and I went to this marvelous little italian restaurant in his neighborhood. We had antipastos and an entr?e and good conversation. Everything was delicious, including the bottle of red wine that we enjoyed, and some orange-flavored liqueur that made me cough on the first sip, but got smoother as the decanter got emptier. Then we said good night. I took the long taxi ride back to the hotel?about ten miles outside of town and 2200 feet up the side of the mountain. You could smell the transmission fluid cooking when we smoked into the parking lot. Just enough time to sit out on the veranda, gaze at the stars, and reflect on the day while cooling my brain with a few more Presidentes.

Saturday morning, HB took me to the Jugat?n in Santiago to get a doll and some carritos for sponsored children #3 and #4. I was scheduled to visit them on Monday. Meantime, since I?m a rabid fan of english football in general and my beloved Everton in particular, and since HB thought I should see more of the island than just his parlour and the veranda of the Camp David, he put me on a bus for Sosua to hang out at Eddy?s Sports Bar, watch Everton and Chelsea go at it, spend a comfortable night in the nearby Condos Dominicano, and see if the Presidentes were any more potent on the north coast.

Eddy, genial host that he is, picked me up at the bus stop and took me to my room to drop off my things and then over to the bar for some cold ones and a pizza from next door. We visited for a good long time and I got to hear a lot about Eddy?s adventures through the years. After a few hours of conversation, he stunned me by saying that english was not his first language. He?s french canadian. I would have never known. And of course, he also speaks fluent spanish. I really admire all of you that speak two and three and four languages. For me, I think, it'll always be a struggle. But I digress.

If you're anywhere near Sosua, you have to go to Eddy's. Even if you're not a big sports fan, you'll like the friendly ambiance of the place. Of course, if you are a sports fan, you're going to find something enjoyable to watch. Soccer, rugby, auto racing, NFL, NHL, you name it. I watched about three soccer games, which is par for my normal weekend at home, and just relaxed, which is something I seldom get to do at home.

Then there?s the hired help at the bar. Eddy?s angels. Nice, nice gals. And easy on the eyes, fellas. Don?t take my word for it, there?s pictures in the Media Gallery. Bianca waited on us all day. She is studying english and speaks very well. Eddy had to go get some shut-eye because he was televising a boxing match at midnight or so, so I was left talking to another friend of his, Al, who?s retired from the US Justice Dept and did he have some stories to tell. Very nice man, really.

Another angel, F?tima, waited on us all night. And after Al left, F?tima and I had some good conversation. She claimed to understand everything I was saying and maybe she was. When you?re trying to learn spanish, like I am, it?s good to go three or four hours and not speak a word of english. You feel like you?re getting somewhere. At the same time, I think it's part of the latin culture to never say "excuse me, but I didn't understand a word of what you just said." Now when I was trying to learn german in germany in the seventies as an army soldier, nobody was bashful about saying, in perfect english, mind you, "that's not bad, but you need to work a little harder on your pronunciation." That's a very different response, no? But, how boring it would be if we were all the same, eh?

Wow, this is really long. I promise to wrap it up in part three in which you?ll hear how Hillbilly saved the party by the Monument, how not to order a rum and coke, and why merengue should always be enjoyed live and LOUD.

Mike B
 
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Robert

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This is what we have always worked towards with DR1, putting people in contact with other people. Excellent!!!
 

dulce

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great DR1 post

I have to agree with Robert that Mike's trip report is an excellent example of how DR1 can help people. I would like to publicly thank Robert for all the improvements to DR1. I have used the site often and for many years to find information about the DR. This site has improved dramatically since Robert came aboard (no pun intended). Mike's Report describes some of the needs and feelings of the Dominican people. He also gives credit to Hillbilly, who we all know is one of the biggest assets on the message board. The people from the North of the island have proved to be great friends to many by sharing their combined wisdom. I have to make an extra effort to make a trip North on my next trip.
 

Robert

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Jan 2, 1999
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Let me say, DR1 is not just me, it's Dolores as well, plus a few collaborators.
If it wasn't for Dolores, DR1 wouldn't exist and 95% of the content you see wouldn't be on this site.

I have been about since 1997, just little more active these days :)
 

dulce

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Sorry about leaving Dolores and the others out of my post. I originally included more names and then deleted them by mistake when I edited my content. I use most of the features on the board and they are filled with great information. I wish I had such a resource the first time that I moved to Santo Domingo. I learned by trial and error and sometimes that was a good thing because I never made the same mistake twice. I absolutely love reading Jan's stories about learning to live in SD because I did so many of the same things.
 

chicker

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part three of four (I just couldn't fit it all in)

December 30, Monday. Staying late at work just to finish this, but, then, I?m hardly ?working? at all, wot?

While we?re handing out kudos, before I left for my trip, I e-mailed Jane J, another DR1?er who hasn?t posted recently, because I had seen a picture of her and Hillbilly together and figured maybe she was acquainted with him. Knowing beforehand that I would be leaning heavily on his knowledge and good nature to make my trip a success, I asked Jane J what might be a suitable gift to bring, a ?pre-thank-you? as it were. I have to say she was spot on with her suggestion. Another successful DR1 connection. Thanks Jane J, wherever you are.

OK, it was now Sunday and, having spent a restful night at Eddy?s Dominican Condos in Sosua, I was treated to lunch by Eddy himself at the nearest ?fast food? buffet, right across the street from the bar. Rice, beef and pl?tanos, I think?mmmmm. Then Eddy chauffeured me to the Caribe Tour bus stop and it wasn?t long before I was disembarking at the new Los Jardines stop back in Santiago, only to make a wrong turn and, in the process, treat myself to a foot tour of the surrounding neighborhood. After a few ?Por favor, busco la esquina ?? encounters, I arrived at HB?s house again. He, meanwhile, had gone out looking for me. Did I mention he has great patience? Well, I certainly put it to the test on this and other occasions.:)

At HB?s house, soaking in a good dose of National Football League action, was a canadian friend of Luis?s named Dr. Joe Samuel, I believe. Like me, a former rugby winger, but, unlike me, looking fit enough to pull on the colors and take up his position on the pitch at the drop of a scrum cap. I, in contrast, would probably be out of breath rolling the celebratory beer keg from the parking lot to the sideline. HB fixed us all omelets and they were tasty indeed. But it was nigh unto nine o?clock and time for the nocturnal routine: taxi gasping and straining to get to 2200 feet, veranda, city lights, Presidente, snore.

Monday morning, back at the project office at 8:10AM, going to visit child #3. We drove to a rural area. I neglected to write down the name of the neighborhood, but it was a fairly nice area. Not with as many amenities as La Otra Banda where child #1 lives, but certainly not the hardscrabble existence of the folks of Hato del Yaqui where child #2 lives. Somewhere in between. I met the whole family, very nice and very appreciative, as they all are. The little girl was very shy, which I expected, but she did draw me a picture of her house with the crayons I brought. Her brothers loved all the new (to them) baseball equipment. I stayed about an hour and a half, and then it was off to the Monument Party.

Neither of the little girl?s parents could go to the party, but her 14-year-old sister said she would go. Then she made the mistake of telling me she understood my spanish. Well, I talked non-stop and even made some attempts to tell a joke or two all the way back to town. I don?t know if she really understood me, but at least she was a good sport about the whole thing, laughing at all the right places, and making small talk. Otherwise it would have been a very quiet taxi ride, everybody staring straight ahead. We picked up child #4 at the project office and proceeded to the caf? by the Monument. Meantime, another taxi went and got children #1 and #2 and we all got to the caf? at about the same time, and then we all, just, sort of, sat there.

The thing was, whenever I started talking, everyone else would stop, as if I had something important to say. I didn?t. I really just wanted to talk to one person at a time. You know, get acquainted. But whenever I moved around the table, everybody just watched me. Just as I was thinking that maybe this was just another gringo idea of mine that really didn?t have much chance of success, in walks Hillbilly. Now, it doesn?t hurt that he looks a little like Santa Claus to begin with, but with that big friendly voice of his and his complete command of the language, within minutes he had those kids giggling and talking back to him like he was their family?s favorite uncle. It?s a gift, I tell you. He really saved the day. We ordered up the fast food (rice, beef or chicken, salad) and the Coca Cola?s and for the coup de grace, we had a big cake which HB had ordered with four big orange candles, as big as carrots. I?d like to think that each child will save that candle as a remembrance, but, more than likely, out of necessity, they?ll be burnt to provide light when the power companies do that ?outage? thing.

(continued)
 
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chicker

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part four of four (epilogue to follow, maybe)

Monday night, HB hooked me up with an australian guy, Adrian, a internet consultant for amonti.com, and a sincere lover of the ?nightlife.? I don?t know how the two know each other. It may be a DR1 connection, I?m not sure. We met Adrian and another american guy at a pub, and were drinking those quart-sized Presidentes as fast as they could bring them (well, there were four of us) and then HB excused himself and I was ready for a night of clubbing. First we went to a very crowded place that featured a very good jazz band. But there were so many people there, you couldn?t even get in the room where the band was. Too bad. Adrian said it wasn?t usually like that. I offered to buy a round of drinks. The other american guy wanted a beer and Adrian wanted rum and Coke.

OK, so it?s very loud in the room where the bar is and the bar itself is only about six feet long with dozens of people trying to order. And I?m shouting ?Dos presidentes y un ron y Coca Cola? or something equally as gringoish as that. And the barmaid just keeps turning away from me. I try again. She turns away again. Now I?m yelling so loud that I?m probably spitting on people in front of me and she?s just rolling her eyes. ?Hey dude? some kid jammed up against my left elbow says, about eighteen years old by the look of him. ?She doesn?t know what you want. Just say Cuba Libre.? Huh? Cuba Libre is rum and coke? Was I the only dork on the island that didn?t know that or what? In my defense, I should tell you that my spanish tutor is from cuba and she endured many hardships to get out of there and when I came across the term 'cuba libre' in a book I was reading, I asked her what kind of drink that was. What I got was a lecture about how those 2 words should never appear in the same sentence. She got really angry, in fact, and I never brought it up again. I guess I should have. Cuba Libre. Rum & Coke. Hmmm. Make a note.

From there we proceeded to a little place that featured a merengue band, fronted by a drop-dead gorgeous female singer who could actually sing. Sang really well, she did. I was hypnotized. I thought the jazz bar was loud, but this place was off the decibel-meter. Almost painfully loud at times. So loud I forgot I was listening to merengue. I own probably 300 CDs, 90% of which are recorded in spanish, but my own taste is for jamaican ska and ska-influenced rock and roll. Also I like a lot of mexican rock and roll (Man?, Jaguares) and latin pop (Luis Miguel, Laura Pausini, etc). I just do not like merengue, at least the way it sounds coming out of a car radio, which is where I hear it most of the time. In taxis, you know. It all sounds the same. Or I thought it did.

I became a convert in that little bar. That band sounded sooooo good. The music was soooo lively. And the girls, when they dance to it, look sooooo nice. If I thought I would look like something other than Frankenstein on roller skates, I would actually even try to dance myself. But I was content to sit and watch and listen (and drink cold beer, of course). I could have stayed there until sun came up. It was like, so good. I was really, really liking it. I love going to hear live music. I hardly ever get to go do that at home. It was a really good way to end the trip. I?m glad HB introduced me to Adrian. And now I can?t wait to go back again.

Tueday morning. Two hours sleep. Gotta get to HB's by 8:00AM to say good-bye so I can catch my 10:30 flight. I would kill for a quart-sized cup of real coffee. But at a dollar for a thimble-full of espresso, we're talking a sixty dollar cup of coffee. Arrive at the mini-estate of Mr. Luis Midence. We shake hands. So long, my new friend. You were everything I expected, and more. El Profesor, indeed. You taught me a lot in seven days. I couldn't thank you enough. Viva Hillbilly!

That 737 sure looks odd sitting out on that runway. They couldn't land a jet at the old airport, but that was last year. You can see that silver hull shining all the way to the highway. I'm sad, naturally. I don't want to leave. Here?s a word of warning. Don?t wait until you get to the Cibao airport to buy souvenirs. They got nothing. Unless you like cigars, whiskey or perfume from the duty-free shop. My family will just have to understand, again.

My own plan was to empty out my suitcases of all the baseball equipment and the toys and the crayons and books and fill them up with Presidentes from the supermercado to put in my own refrigerator in St Louis. I figured I could haul back at least three cases. But after consuming about 50 or 60 of those little green jugs of frosty goodness in a week?s time, I was not only sick of the taste of Presidente, I was beginning to think that there really wasn?t anything special about the taste of it anyway. Three weeks after the fact, I wish I had one to pop open tomorrow night to celebrate the new year.

There?s a famous landmark in Rome called Trevi Fountain. The legend goes that if you throw a coin in the fountain, you will always return to Rome. I threw my coin into the water in 1976 and haven?t been back yet. But I believe I will someday. I think in Santiago, legend has it that if you make an ass of yourself in a local bar, you will return someday and order a Cuba Libre like you knew what it was all along. I think there?s another legend that if you take two suitcases to fill up with the local brew and then drink so many that you?re sick of the local brew, you get to go back and try again. Well, I don?t know if either of those legends is true, because I just made them up. But I sure hope so. I sure do. Nos vemos amigos. Muchas gracias. Hasta el a?o que viene.

Mike Boettge (aka st louis mike)
 

m65swede

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Excellent post, Mike! I surely am glad that your quest for "rest and relaxation" went so well. LOL :)

I am beginning to plan our next trip to the DR; hopefully in Feb or March 2003.

Swede
 

Pib

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mike I am not worthy, I'm not worthy... would you let me touch the hem of your garment? ;) Wow! What a fantastic story-teller you are. I am so looking forward to you writing some more. I am sure you can squeeze yourself for another installment.

Count me in as another one who met wonderful people thru DR1, HB included. I have to admit that my life has been enriched by this forum and the many splendiferous people that I've been honored to meet. It is no irony that I was told about this forum my none other than my best friend.
 

JOHNNY HONDA

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Great story.I realy enjoyed reading your experience,keep us up to date on future exploits.You see DR1ers sometimes this board can help you meet incredible people.
Johnny
 

AZB

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Jan 2, 2002
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Giving away all santiago's secrets....you traitor!!!
I am glad that you got hooked up with adrian because this guys really gets around, not only in santiago but I always run into him in sosua as well.
I also live in santiago and love every inch of this city. In my opinion, santiago is the best town in the whole DR. Viva santiago.
 

leja

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Great post Mike! I look forward to hearing about your future trips. And it's absolutely wonderful what you're doing for the kids. Hopefully someday I too will get to meet HB and the other famous DR1ers?you all sound like some pretty amazing people.

Thanks for a great read Mike!

~Leja
 

chicker

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Do sit tight, I do have an epilogue on the way

It's about 75% finished.

But for now I have to jet off to Phoenix for the weekend and visit my mom and her husband. It's not like I'm some jet-setter. I had one of those Rapid Reward tickets from Southwest that was about to expire and I just can't have that. Taking the wife too. Could be interesting.

In the epilogue I'll be ruminating on what level of spanish language is sufficient to 'get by' in the DR, why you should save all your ATM receipts, and I'll clue you in to one of HB's more 'unusual' talents.

It's snowing here, again!
If I play my cards right, I could retire to the DR in about 12 years, so, then, I'll see you in about 25 years.

st louis mike
doin' things the hard way
 

Indie

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Nov 15, 2002
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st louis mike Rules!

If I may say so myself, your generosity is greatly appreciated during these times and always. So thank you, thank you and thank you so much for looking after those children and for such a well-written report! It sounds like you had a great time.

Looking forward to the next one!

-Indie
Did I say thank you? ;)