Back to Santo Domingo

Sad times, my friends. Today we had to say adios to our cool little beachtown, Las Terrenas. (This picture is the little cottage we stayed in) Katie and BJ both have to leave tomorrow morning so we needed to get back to Santo Domingo for them to catch their flights. We spent one last, lazy morning at our little French bakery then headed back to pack up, buying a few gifts along the way (Happy Birthday, Ali!). When BJ got back to the hotel first, all hot and sweaty and in need of a shower, there was no water. None. Ah, life in third-world countries. But it eventually came back and we got cleaned up… just in time to head out into the rain to walk to the bus.

The weather has been interesting. We’re here in the middle of the rainy season but, even expecting a lot of rain, it really hasn’t been as bad as I was anticipating. What’s been interesting has been how the timing has almost always been just perfect. We’ve noticed a rhythm of nice mornings and a big, bad, thunderous storm at some point in the late afternoon, which usually just lasts for an hour or two. But somehow they seem to have perfectly accommodated our schedule: when we’ve wanted to go to the beach, it’s been clear and sunny, when we were doing things inside anyway (read: massages), it was rainy and we didn’t mind a bit. Today, when all we were basically doing was traveling anyhow, it was grey and rainy ALL day, from morning on. Oh, and humid. Crazy humid. Some days haven’t been too bad but when it’s humid, it’s HU-MID. Like sweating non-stop humid. Like my hair normally takes about 20 minutes to air dry but now takes an hour and a half humid. Like everything, everything, is vaguely damp. That kind of humid.

Either way, we had some extra time so were able to go back to one of our beachside restaurants for lunch before leaving. We went there for the pizza. They didn’t have pizza. Another interesting aspect of life down here (and I’ve noticed it in every Latin country I’ve been to) is that they very regularly just don’t have things. They just don't have them, even things that they advertise as their specialty. No apologies, just “we don’t have that today”. Sometimes you can get down to the second or third or fourth try before hitting on something they do have. I’ve learned, instead of getting my heart set on something, to start off by asking what they do have. Saves everyone time. It’s also funny how that sort of thing might annoy me in the US but here when it happens, I can genuinely laugh it off and not be bothered at all by it. I just see it as another one of the oddly endearing quirks about life down here. I think it’s all a matter of expectation.

Today’s bus ride wasn’t nearly as interesting as mine on the way up to the beach, but it was a cultural experience nonetheless. If you want to truly experience the people in a country, ride on public transportation with them. Today’s bus was half as crowded but still managed to provide some entertainment in the form of a vague argument between the driver and a passenger over the size of her suitcase (in the end, he charged her an extra fare), an unscheduled stop for fresh fruit along the side of the road and a pooping cat. Yes, a pooping cat. On a bus. Don’t ask.

We’re staying in the colonial district of Santo Domingo and we did a brief walk-around before, you guessed it, finding a charming little place to have dinner. Anyone sensing a theme here? There’s just something about dining outside while overlooking an ancient plaza (Santo Domingo lays claim to the first cathedral, monastery, university, customs house and hospital in the "New World", all dating back to Columbus) that really can’t be beat.

Katie and BJ are leaving the hotel at 5 am in the morning (yeah, we said our goodbyes tonight) so, since I’m still burning off the espresso I had after dinner, I vacated the room to let them get some good sleep. So as I write this, I am sitting in a lovely little open-air alcove of our hotel, overlooking colonial Santo Domingo. It’s warm and lovely and I’m listening to the sounds of the city below. Seriously, how can I ever be expected to return to reality?