Cuentos

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Culture Shock

Since I haven’t yet written about my Dad’s 16 day visit to the DR, here it is. I would love to say that he really adapted to the culture and made his best memories doing such things as waking up to the sound of chickens laying eggs in the morning (bk bk bk bk bk bk bkaaaaaaaah!!!) or taking cold bucket showers or riding with 25 people packed into a minivan; however, I’m quite positive his most enjoyable moments were sitting at the swim up bar at the all inclusive hotel. But all in all, he was a good sport in many respects such as riding with 4 people on a motorcycle, helping me with the land survey, dancing bachata with the local ladies, and accepting a marriage proposal from my Dominican neighbor.

One night, we stayed with my friend Kaitlin and her dog, and my Dad learned the dangers of living in a country without permanent electricity. We went to bed that night with the electricity on. My Dad woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of an animal rumaging through his stuff. He went to check on what it was, but when he got out of bed, he discovered that the animal had either taken or moved his glasses. He went to switch on the light and discovered the electricity had gone out. He suddenly found himself in the midst of a dangerous combination of circumstances: darkness and a terrible vision problem. He decided he needed to go to the bathroom before going back to bed, and clumsily found his way there, tripping on things as he went. On the way back to the bedroom, as he was entering the doorway, my Dad stepped on a fresh dog turd that Kaitlin’s dog had just left in a most convenient of places. My Dad then did what only a desperate blind man in the dark would do. He took his foot and wiped the poo onto the door frame and wall and went back to sleep. Then, just as he finally fell back to sleep, the electricity came back on and lit up the whole room.

When I saw him the next morning, he wasn’t in the cheeriest of moods. Kaitlin wasn’t to happy with the new paint job on the wall either.

Bola Races

Dominican word of the day: bola

A bola is a term for the ride you get whilst hitchhiking. Bolas are very common here and are used by many respectable people, not just gypsies and vagabonds. For this reason, every year, the Peace Corps volunteers organize a bola race.

The rules:

1. Racers must pair up with someone of the opposite sex to make a team of two.
2. Teams must dress up according to a decided theme.
3. Racers must think of a back story to explain their costume and reason for hitchhiking in a foreign country.
4. Racers must not reveal that they are Peace Corps Volunteers.
5. Racers arrive at the starting line the morning of the race, where the end destination is revealed just moments before the race begins.
6. Each team will be supplied with a bottle of randomly selected booze, which must be finished before crossing the finish line. Alcohol cannot be poured out, but can be shared with other people.
7. Racers must arrive at the finish line without paying for any transportation.
8. The 1^st team to cross the finish line together wins.