At the moment I’m staying in a hotel. Hopefully Alcatel will find me an apartment soon, although the people in my hotel are extremely friendly and always joking around with me (especially in the morning when I'm still in sleep-mode) The people I work with are bit a mix of everything; Dominicans, Mexicans, Argentineans, Spanish, etc. Yesterday I tried to learn them the Dutch phrase: De postkoetspoetser poetst de postkoets met postkoetspoets" . Without any luck though. When I tried to translate they even got more confused...
Santo Domingo is quite a big city and full of contrasts. I must say that I am suffering a little cultural shock at the moment. Even though I have the impression that the middle class is quite big there are also a lot of very poor people. It is difficult not to feel constant very guilty when going to my fancy (at least according to Dominican standards) hotel or when getting a taxi or when our driver locks the doors at traffic lights where people try to make a living cleaning windows or selling candy, telephone cards, lunar calendars (who buys this?) or steering wheels (jep).
On the street there are loot of disabled people and childrens asking money. Local people just turn them away, also because of safety reasons and I try to do the same but they immediately spot the hesitation in my eyes and will follow me.. "Senorita, senorita" ... Difficult. Well, what else, fire weapons are all over. From security, to taxi drivers to just simply the guy who tells you where to park your car. Not as bad as I’ve seen in Honduras but still. Well, I guess it’s the same feeling everyone has when traveling to poor countries and sadly (well, also a bit luckily for me) enough, you get used to this kind of things very quickly.
The most difficult and frustrating part for me, is not being able to move around as I’m used to in Europe. Public transport is almost non-existing so I have to go by foot (too hot! too dangerous after 9 PM), by car (if someone picks me up, I’m not driving here) or by taxi (have to call one, caching one on the street is too dangerous). But anyways, I’m getting used to it and mostly one of my friends or colleagues comes to pick me up.
Traffic then:Fortunately, Alcatel has rented us some cars but as said, at the moment I’m not driving them. Traffic is simply insane. Sometimes I wonder if they don’t value their lives as highly as I do mine. Traffic lights and signs are merely a “suggestion”, not so much a “must-follow”. Besides, they simply lack patience. If they have to wait for 5 seconds they’ll honk you ‘till you move.
Before you all think I am very unhappy here: I am not!! The positives are greater then the negatives. People are simply too nice to be true. Always smiling, very helpful, and with the funniest accent that I’ve heard in Spanish so far. I get a lot of comments on the fact that my Spanish accent is very, ehm, Spanish and without too many Latin influences.
Santo Domingo has a colonial zone which is nice, although not the best preserved. In this zone we find: the first cathedral in the Americas, the first hospital in the Americas, the first paved road in the Americas, the house of Cristobal Colon’s brother and besides that tons of bars and clubs.Unfortunately, about one year ago the president imposed a law closing all bars and clubs at 3 AM in weekends, midnight in during weekdays. There are some that stay open longer but in general I have the impression that the law is obeyed. Haven’t found any underground bars yet but will let you know if I do. (from what I’ve heard so far, they don’t exist)
Music then, as expected I have the choice between; salsa, merengue, regueton, bachata, and more regueton. But I also made some friends that actually took me to a place that had very decent no-nonsense minimal. By the way I met Miss Uruguay there but no special attention to her as most women here are as gorgeous as her. Guys, get over here!!!
I also made my first trip to the beach! Sand is white, palm trees on the beach, little to no people and warm weather. Knokke, eat your heart out
Meet Marcello, the local project manager. Italian-Argentinean and (understatement coming up)quite a figure. We call him "el Padrino" to give you an idea. But, hey, all of us got to the beach in the afternoon while Marcello got there in the morning. We arrived carrying nothing but a towel while he was fully equiped to make us all cuba libres.
