It's a wonderful LIFE !!! Santiago de los Caballeros

Keep them coming!

Bob K

Groby, I commend you for the time & thought involved in giving us your experiences.  Society in general could profit by doing the same. Too many just blithely slide through life with no thought of the ramifications of their actions. Unaware , blind to the real world, content to feed their meager egos.  To surround themselves with syncophants (sp) of the same ilk,  not so subtle in their reminding us of their superior position.    Groby, you have that rare ability to communicate your thoughts & vision, for that wondrous gift, I salute & thank you.

Part 10

A Good Day

Leaving their backpacks on the sidewalk in front of my little casa, the four men who had arrived in the early hours of the morning headed out across the little street and into the dense jungle like foliage, next to the women’s prison in Rafey. They had no lighting that I could tell and the thought of them walking through this maze of trees and stumps and also concrete blocks, was concerning to me. In my little exploration trip through this foliage with another local, I had to look ahead and plan my next step, even in the middle of the day. The Chorasia tree has big bold thorns covering its trunk and would indeed inflict a tragic inconvenience on ones anatomy for sure. My mind was racing as I now heard the sound of a cow bell. The sequence of its ring indicated stress. Even though I was a distance from the event, my adrenaline was racing; I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Then in the still of early morning, no music, no street noise, nothing except complete silence, the first blow of the machete, followed by a weak yet painful surrender to life its self. The injured animal succumbed, as if it understood its position in the cadena alimentica. There was no loud resistance, for this particular cow was weak and most likely welcomed the dismissal of its appointment to the cosmic cause. With a passing of an hour or so the roosters began to sound the arrival of a new day. The first of the motos arrived at the intersection in front of the prison entrance, and the store keeper rolled up the metal door to announce a new day. Within minutes he started up the music and the morning jump-start had now begun in Rafey. One by one those needing transportation chose their favorite ride and departed to start a new day, another chance to keep the pipeline of life moving ahead with hope.
From the foliage the images of the four men began to appear and one could tell they were dragging something. They had burlap sacks with the bounty of their success. One by one they loaded them onto the little Datsun truck and then they departed. The day went on as usual. There was though a peculiar scent in the air later in the afternoon, yes, the bounty had been divided among those who had volunteered to harvest the injured animal. I found out later that it was divided among a dozen or so households and that each of them had invited guests for dinner that evening. El Presidentes were sold out at most of the local colmados by the end of the day. The ambiente del barrio was jubilant. The energy of Rafey had almost a giddyish personality. By the end of the day I also was introduced to the luxurious benefit of a good day in Rafey.

Another slice of life here.

Bob K

Awesome.

Groby, as always an exhuberant (sp) Bravo  and a rousing huzzah !!!

Street lesson I learned while in the Dominican; animal lives are definitely not equal to people's lives.  One of the hard realities of Dominican life in comparison to America.

Not quite so, ie. millions of chickens, cattle, pigs, turkeys, ducks etc.  Unless of course you belong to PETA or are a Vegan.  but I know what you mean.  Acquiring food is a bit more personal & close to home in the barrios.

I think what he is referring to is PETS not feed animals.You are right for the most part pets don't have a lot of value. Tough to do when you can barely feed your family. 

Great thread, I enjoy reading it!

Actually, I was referring to all animals.  Yes, I do understand that one's livestock is important to them, but probably only to the extent they are going to receive something in return from it.  Sounds like this cow was sick or injured and possibly required medical care.  The way an American (not all of course) would think is: Oh, poor cow.  We need to do something to help (save) it.  We wouldn't think feast.  But a Dominican, even the more well-to-do, would probably not think about saving the cows life.  That would cost money and an animal just isn't worth spending what little money you have on.  I could be wrong as I don't live there, but this was the conclusion I drew from my observations of Dominican life.  Does PETA even exist in the DR?  For some reason, I just can't imagine that. BTW, is it common for Dominicans to have pets? Indoor pets?  This has not been my experience, so I'm not sure what would be considered the norm.

With such sensitive vision & insight being written by Groby, I would have expected at least a couple of posts of a deeper nature tan " a great read" etc.  How has it changed a view point or opened eyes to another way of seeing. No, just basically a pat on the back & do entertain us some more.  A paucity of thinkers abound.  Arise ye brethern (sp) and think & live again !!!!  Yes, I know my spelling sucks.   Where o where is Mel Gibson when I need him?

Part 11

Leave the Lid On

In writing this next piece, I would like to say thank you, all of you for your interest with some of my subject material. There is always a chance when one puts to ink truth, emotion, feeling, passion and the expression of life itself, that the recipient of the text is motivated or challenged to respond. This is what text is meant to do. We respond with the knowledge and understanding of what we hear, read and are attaching to ourselves. Adobe introduced to us the incredible tool of layering. From Hollywood to Photo Shop, we are seduced to believing that perfection does exist. The domestication or programming of our thought response is also a program of layering. When I referred to the DOS version of the DR, it is my intent to portray the fact, that the DR has its unique language. Expats including myself, we try to read this DOS version. Without fail we fall short and bring in the Windows overlay. The areas closer to the ocean attract a wide variety of people. These people bring their own dream with them. We then attempt to implement our own overlay and somehow are disappointed when we can’t find our program in the directory. Just like this session, it may appear I know something about the DOS system. I don’t. I just know that there are a few good terms I can use to hook your attention, and then you are awestruck at my insight. This is overlay. It hooks our attention from the truth.

One evening while having rice and chicken, (arroz con pollo) mixed with gandules, the senora of the house and her three daughters were having quite a heated conversation. They began to head back into the fog of life and try to resurrect past hurtful events. Of course I wasn’t attached to this time period so it really didn’t affect me too much. The senora left the table and returned with an old small glass container with a glass lid. Much like the old opium bottles you see in the early west museums. She asked her girls, “vamos a abrir el veneo”? (Are we going to open the poison)?  She went on to explain that in every conversation and dialog that exists, there on the table is a bottle of toxicity. At any given moment we can remove the lid and contaminate everyone and everything in a brief moment. My mind started to process what she was saying, and then myself, I began to remove the lid internally and the rush of anger, hurt and confusion began to surge into my veins like I had just been hooked to an intravenous tube of poison. Quickly I put the lid back on and was left literally shaking with unbelief at what had just happened.  This was a simple illustration, yet packed a powerful punch of reality. My transition into this foreign land had been gradual, yet without really trying to identify my progress, it had happened, and continues until this very moment. I had found a treasure beyond my finite cerebral capacity. She is small in stature, young in years, yet the wisdom and insight to life has shredded the domesticated fog, the poison, the lies and the deception of the many layers overlaid for so many lifetimes.

The pixels that portray the image of fantasy and a life of paradise are most likely a fantasy. The senora does business by inviting potential clients over for an opportunity to cool off in the little 100.00 Ibex swimming pool from the local DR version of Home Depot. Already she knows that people are easily motivated by the feeling of comfort and the unguarded feeling of the present condition when making their decisions. They buy her curtains that she sews in her spare time. They buy the pillow shams she has learned to make. They buy the cool custom jeans that she is able to sew. Then they listen to her as she tells them of a man in whom she thought was working on a documentary by painting a house next to hers. Some of the clients bring their kids, and she has one of her daughters entertain them while she does business. If they didn’t come prepared to enter the cooling of the pool, they are made comfortable by the four electric fans that now are strategically placed in the area where they will meet. Once again, the truths of seduction are always present, it’s just the dynamic that is available and how the receptor is conditioned. What are our truths? Why are we here in this place far away from the past, friends and family? I might be able to shed some light on this, at least from my own perspective. All of us have a layer of truth, just how far back will we have to go, to find it. Maybe being here was a dream, aspiration, a business opportunity and maybe even an escape. It does not matter really, however it is what we do going forward, leaving the lid of toxicity closed and moving on.

Another thought provoking post and certainly some truth to how things "run" here and in fact everywhere.

Those who come and cannot understand the DOS version and want to place their Overlay programs usually do not survive here.  You need to leave your rose colored glasses at the airport when you come.

Yes keep the lid on but remember it can come off and the consequences of dong so.

Bob K

Gypsy - really???? Not here. Don't rain on his parade.

Another great post.  I love the ability here for those inclined to create a "business". See a need, fill a need.

Part 12

La Boda  - borrando sentimientos de la culpa

In my earlier post of the first few days in the DR, I mentioned that a few of the senoras had suggested I go to a wedding that was to take place before I needed to leave and return to the States to work. When they first mentioned this, I was polite and acted interested, however had confirmed in my mind I would not be going to this event. Life is interesting for sure. After having succumbed to the kindness and personal chemistry between myself and a certain senora, I soon changed my mind, and of course found myself at the mercy of the local “salón de belleza.”  From pedicure to hair coloring, shaving and trimming the facial hair, they worked their magic to create their manifestation of perfection. They fell short of course; they would have needed a more likely candidate in order to execute this impossible task. Somehow they seemed pleased that they had transformed this “alien” of the barrio into someone worthy of their efforts. Next the four women had ordered a taxi, and I found myself headed for Jumbo, a shopping mall in downtown Santiago de los Caballeros. They were all arguing about who was going to be in charge of shoes, pants, shirt, and all the other accessories they had compiled into quite an extensive list. Maybe now I understood how “Ken” had felt for so many years at the mercy of the “Barbie” cult. We exited the taxi and began the ascent up the stairs leading into the Jumbo complex. I could not help but notice the looks of unbelief of many who were now descending the complex, as they passed by this entourage of a focused and proud compilation from the barrio. As we entered the complex I was greeted with something that had been missing from my stay, AC!!! My body went from surviving mode, to take control mode in just seconds. Moving away from the group of senoras I quickly eyeballed the ice cream booth as we began to navigate the Christmas time crowd. Within seconds a couple of beautiful senoras approached me and asked if I wanted to be seated so that I could order something. One senora from our group quickly stated that I was with her and her friends and they would be tending to my interests. Looking around, I realized that I had not seen or heard anyone who resembled North Americans or Europeans. The fact is I never did on that first trip down to the DR. After being seated, a certain senora of interest asked me what kind of ice cream I would like. Of course I ordered chocolate. When it arrived, I was aware that none of the others had ordered. Upon inquiring why they had not ordered anything, they quickly explained that unless we were going to take some back to the barrio to share, they could not consciously partake of this luxury unless they included other key members of their community. Know I understood how things worked. They were not selfish; they were solid to their conviction of sharing and bettering the lives of their families, especially when the opportunity was available. I asked for some more plastic spoons and before long, one little scrape after another they timidly began to erase the guilt that accompanied them by indulging into a more pleasurable experience, chocolate ice-cream. Through all the noise and busyness of the mall, there was a sphere of silence and almost euphoric presence as they let down their conviction and partook of this unmentionable opportunity. Licking their lips, and then taking another tiny layer, they were now letting down some personal conviction, and understood that this opportunity may never be available again in their lifetime. Oh, and of course they would not be taking ice-cream to the barrio unless they had the icebox and air-conditioned car that was not part of their existence. As the senoras continued their indulgence into this unbidden adventure, I could not help but think of Rudy in the Shawshank Redemption when he ordered a beer or two for his comrades on the hot roof that day in Shawshank Prison. As he did, I sat in silence and tried to absorb the moment and the understanding that at any given time the dynamic of our lives can change and break down any domesticated truths we have allowed ourselves to believe. Letting go and fighting back against fear, allowed these senoras the chance to partake of a luxury, yet still stay loyal to their simple truth, that life itself, is the most precious element in the universe.

Again, saludos, to a true gentleman of life.     I can only hope that somehow my respect & love of your vision & ability to share it can through the ether be known to you.  Thank you for being.

Another great post. 

And yes family, community and sharing are such a wonderful trait of the Dominican people.  I wish there was more of it in the world.

Bob K

For me that sense of community and family  is the very best part.

It is part of what makes living here so great.

Bob K

Part 13
La Boda  (the wedding)
After finding the clothing and accessories needed for attending a wedding in which I had not been prepared, the senoras and I exited the four story mall they call “Jumbo”.  Again the heat blasted us as we descended the stairs and stood waiting for the taxi that had been beckoned by a phone call. With tinted glass and AC, we again were lured into a false perception of how things are, and quickly the senoras began to form an itinerary of the evening leading up to the wedding festival. There was much debate and anxiousness as they tried to form some sort of organized event list. We arrived at the barrio and exited the taxi; all the excitement and eagerness to gallivant through the streets of Santiago was quickly brought back into reality as the sweat began to glisten on the foreheads of us who had been so seduced once again. Without hesitation the conversation changed and now the subject was the preparation of food for dinner before the wedding festival.
The bride and groom had already been married earlier that day, and were touring and showing off their new stated position to the whole community of Santiago. From the monument, to the clubs, malls and baseball game, they had worn their wedding attire to attend all. We were going to go to the rented club and welcome them as they arrived. A taxi arrived, and the senora , her two daughters and myself found ourselves once again refreshed by the AC of the taxi. As you can see, AC is a real treat when you are not in the position financially to acquire its usefulness. Soon we arrived at the club, a rented building in an upscale neighborhood. It was a square block building with block that went half way to the roof, with iron grid and iron decor to connect the roof with the structure itself. There were two iron gates with some clever design that brought access to the building from two different sides. As we entered, I was aware that the invitation time had said 7:00 PM. The time was now 8:15 PM and there seemed to be about 20 or so persons that I could see. I inquired as to if there had been an error in the invitation or were we just early. One of the guests quickly informed me that DR time had a great degree of variable possibility. Little by little guest began to arrive. Most of them arrived in transport cars or taxis. Even though many don’t have ownership of a vehicle, when they entered the club, I was amazed at how nice and elegant they were dressed. Casual attire was not on the menu. From the littlest to the oldest, collared shirts and ties for the caballeros, and fine, very fine dresses for the damas. Their bling, shoes, purses and of course everything included was done to perfection. The men freshly shaved, hair groomed and shoes shined, were already making their dancing prowess known to the ladies. This of course left me in an awkward situation in that dancing has never been a forte of mine. After some time had passed an MC was given a microphone and the official beginning of the festival had begun. First were introduced the parents, then the grandparents, then the aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and almost everyone, yes, including a guest de los estados unidos was present to  appreciate the cultura of the evening. I noticed tired eyes, bodies, and knew the desperate situations that many of the guests were currently a part of, yet, somehow, they had thrown all of their personal pain aside, and began to put themselves into the moment at hand. A DJ acquired by the groom began to encourage the little ones to come up front and he led them in a bachata dance. Soon the mothers, then the fathers joined in, and before long the whole club was alive with about 220 or so guests of the wedding entourage, dancing, talking and letting go of the day’s events and sharing the joy of the bride and groom. Looking around I tried to find the senora of whom I was a guest at this event. Finally I found my way into a small kitchen off to the side of the club, and there she was, with a few other senoras, preparing little gifts to be presented to the invited families. One gift per family was the idea. They did not notice me, and I quickly left before they could recruit me to try my fumble fingers at the delegate task at hand. My senses had kicked in and I realized that friendship had a loyalty that runs deep, especially in the families represented at the boda. As I returned to the main part of the club I was aware of the crowd now gathering on each side of a white entry cloth that extended to the entry of the club; the bride and groom had arrived, and the respect was now being paid to their celebration of unity and a future of hope, waiting in the distance.

Sounds like you had an amazing experience.  Dominicans know how to celebrate!

A thank you can't fully convey the joy, insights & visions you bring to your writings.  They should be mandatory reading for all interested in the DR as well  for all the school children here.  It is important for them to be aware that others can see the beauty of family & friends that exist in everyday life.  You bring a clarity to the reality of life for the people we so often overlook. Please assemble your experiences into a book so that many can view with you eyes the truth of humanity in the local culture.  Thank you, thank you.

Thanks for sharing another slice of DR life.

Bob

Part 14

Hard Core

Before I return to the wedding descriptive, I am going to try and explain my reasoning in bearing light on my life in the Barrio verses the life of the average expat. Many begin to plan earlier their retirement or how they would like to spend the later years of their life. This is not a bad idea; in fact it is a great idea. Plan, read, learn and do your homework. These are words from Bob K who has responded to many inquiries regarding stuff here in the DR.  My situation is that I did not even have time to know where the capital of the country was, or even where the island really was located geographically.  I literally hopped on a jet and found myself at the mercy of this island. There were no hours of reading or investigating the financial climate, let alone the actual climatical environment in the DR. Without any knowledge at all, and the fact that I did not visit a resort or location in which I would have been vulnerable to the observations of other expats, I simply was at the point of depending on survival instincts. Like I mentioned before, I stayed in the Hotel Colonial in Santiago for a week to 10 days before I ventured out to far. Maybe it was fate that I ended up in one of the most depressed areas of the DR. Rafey has had its events for sure. In 1998 hurricane Georges hit the DR and much of the area Rafey was under nine feet of water. If you were to go into the barrio now, you would find in the foliage along the side of the women’s prison, many little monuments of the remaining rubble that once was a house. If you care to read this other material, missing in it is the part where there was a miscommunication with the flood control dam above Santiago and they let water through that could have been bettered controlled. Some say there were political implications involved. Sound familiar? Anyway these monuments of rubble represent sites where either there were homes not insured or simply the response and proper identification of loss was never recognized. These people simply lost everything.

http://www.colorado.edu/hazards/publica … part2.html

Many in the barrios can’t afford the electrical bills, and in fact along with other barrios, have actually had events where they simply disconnect and cut out their meters and stack them in a pile on the corner of the street. Oh, they want the electricity, they just feel abused when the power bill goes from 500 pesos to 900, and there are still 6 hour blackouts three of four times a week.
Yes this next article is in my back yard, well almost.

http://www.hispanicallyspeakingnews.com … ers/14601/

Now you know how the little ones find the cable and plastic for their extension cords. Please do not think for one minute I am suggesting anyone think they could change this situation simply by a voice. This is their life. For us it seems tragic, yet at ground zero, they accept it much like we accept all the inconveniences we encounter. It is just the way it is, and l pretty much leave it at that. Our dump sites here in the States would be considered a treasure drove of unfathomable bounty, this is for sure.

No, I would have to say my story is way to truthful, yet it is not intended to be a motivating factor to make others feel afraid or even guilty. Every country and livable plot of civilization has its challenging aspects. My intent is to show my observations, yet with caution, encourage many who are curious, or already engaged in expat living here in the DR; that it is an awesome place to live. Maybe our frustrations with our original plot of existence have propelled us to this other available opportunity. It is safe to say there are new frustrations here, yet somehow, they all seem worth it.

Well said.  Each and every area has its challenges, frustrations and joys!!!!!   There is so much history behind everything here,  getting a bit of an understanding of it is really important!  It helps us understand how and why people are the way they are.

Your writing is refreshing, honest and it gives us insight into your life, thanks!

Part 15

Despues la Boda (After the Wedding)

Like most parties or gatherings, there is always the cleanup. The DR is a little different, or at least the situation of which I was privileged to have attended had its own characteristics. The club was right in the middle of a neighborhood. The festival lasted until 1:00 AM, and many of the neighbors had gathered outside to listen and dance to the music provided by the wedding party. The groom took time dancing with the various female family members and the bride also with the male genre. After a bit of time he called me over to where he had been dancing with the senora, and he offered me her hand. A flush of blood came roaring into my cheeks, my knees began to tremble. I was looking down at the floor prepared to see chunks of concrete fly everywhere as my legs had become a human jackhammer. There they stayed fixed and solid, never moving. My hips did a little moving and my arm pumped away with hers as she generously danced and smiled. Several of the other senoras had been watching, and managed to part their lips with a half committed smile of amazement at my attempt to overcome this curse of never really dancing in my life. She graciously smiled and thanked me, and then headed back to the kitchen where she was helping with the serving of the food now being distributed to the tables where the families had gathered.

After some time I noticed a few of the uninvited guests who had blended in with the invited and were partaking of some of the fruit of the vine beverage’s that were provisional only to the families that had brought them. After a bit of time had passed, a brother of the bride began to round up the uninvited guests, and while smiling and being nice, escorted them outside and sent them on their way, except a couple of younger men who had already found the fountain of craziness, and were now overly intoxicated. The brother of the bride, soon to be my brother in-law, had his strong men with him. He does street loans, and from what I sense, it’s not a very friendly business. The two men tried to enter the club again, however the two bodyguards quickly and without much fanfare happily sent them, or I should say, propelled them into the street where they got to their feet and stumbled away from the premises. I knew right away who I would have with me when I have my wedding party. Knowing misery loves company, maybe not….   

Little by little the guests began to leave. However before they left, each family was given a generous square of the cake, and a good helping of the food that had been served, buffet style, at the wedding. So really, no one went away without being better off than when they entered the club. A cube van arrived, and the two body guards and I began to load the plastic chairs and tables that had been rented. Then we swept the whole club with these little brooms. I noticed the one man had a cast on his wrist, there again, I found out later, he had an incident on his collection route. The furniture was loaded and the food and left over beverages were now being divided by the parents of the bride and groom. The senora of my interest was busy with her daughters folding and stacking the table clothes and left over napkins. Now the far gate was being locked, and one by one the lights were turned out as we exited the front gate. I had very little time to spend with the senora at the wedding and lost track of how busy she had been. She was dead on her feet. There is something to be said for dance or work till you drop, I certainly now understand how that is possible.

In a few hours another day would break forth, and the crowd would gather in front of the house in the barrio, for they would be having a family gathering somewhat different than the one I had attended that evening. The prison of Rafey provides family visits every Sunday, and the crowd begins to assemble around 6:00 AM to wait their turn to visit a friend, husband, wife or other person of interest. The heat challenges the crowed as they wait; the store on the corner usually runs out of Presidentes around 10:30 AM. By 2:00 PM the crowd has dissipated, the heat and sun finally win the battle of patience and will. Now the sun has set and the local canine community will began to scour the area where the many had let a few crumbs fall from their hands. The store closes its metal door, the music stops, and finally there is a quietness in the barrio of Rafey.

Wow great story!  Have you learned to dance yet???

OMG!!! Im such a hopeless cause. I downloaded a youtube how to do bachata and hope I can at least do something besides just stand there. ha!

When I finally  meet you I will give you a lesson.....LOL

Definition of two lead and left feet.... ME

Another great chapter.

Bob K

WOW! Greg, you are a gifted, intelligent, honest, interesting,
& a bunch of other things that are all really good.
I just discovered your blog here & spent the last 2
hours reading it. I envy your youth & factual exploits.
I did notice you have neglected giving us the name
of your "senora of your eye". I can only assume you
are continuing your new life here. You have my undivided
attention now, as well as the main people on here!
Now, have you considered a daytime TV show depicting
your new life here in our beautiful island?
Tom.

Well Tomas you are too generous in your descriptive of Groby57. He only speaks from his heart and can only really explain his experiences by speaking the truth. That way he doesn't have to remember what he wrote. My journals from my few visits are a reflection of maybe way to much spare time while I am down there on the "island". I have over 180 pages of stuff written and have presented about 21 of them so far. There are some dooozzzies coming up, This I promise. Thank you again for you interest. Warmth and Blessings to you and your pareja. From the senora to your pareja, "dios le bendiga y da gracias cada dia a dios por el amor de Tomas"

Planner I need help!!! Talk about being a buffoon, I did ok in marching with drum and bugle core stuff, but this bachata thing they got going down here is weeeellllll.....not my cup of el presidente for sure.

Groby honey, start with merengue,  master that and we will advance you to bachata!    I might need to make an emergency visit next time you are here!

Tomas -  great idea -a novela - no one will believe this if they do not live here...... hahahahaha.

PS  no one deserves the bonking, I just like that emoticon. 

Planner, I fully understand!

Greg, I use that statement all the time, about always
speaking the truth! I do have a great memory, just really short.
WOW, so start typing, & Bob, start the book.
Another HOT & dry day here, AGAIN!

Yes Tomas í hear those words quite often. "hace mucho calor".

Part 16

Emotions

After the weekend of the wedding, I realized that I would be returning state side. I went down in the middle of December and waited until the second week of Jan to return state side. Cheaper tickets were my main focus. The truth is had I known there would be a transformation,,,,,perdon,,,,a season of awakening in the months to come, my reactions would have seemed confused at best. My personal life was going through a process of purging and sorting. Leaving the toxic stuff behind is one thing, getting a whiff of it now and then can trigger some un-pleasantries that take days or even weeks to digest. My accidental trip to the DR, was nothing more than spin the globe and a blindfolded slap-a- tack on a spot. OK, well not quite that bold, yet even though Haiti was my plan of origin, with Habitat for Humanity, my moment of disappointment came, when the work team had returned to the States for Christmas, leaving me to make one quick decision, one that will change my life forever. My prescription for sight, you can’t buy it, teach it, or make it. There is a convincing conviction that runs through my veins, and that is, life is the maestro of teachers. Maybe there comes a time when we just have to walk away from the perception that we have tried so many times in order to convince the masses.

My thought is of a chair, an old chair, one that has had many rest their weary body, as they dine, converse and maybe even study in order to preserve ones self-respect. If this chair, had a recording capability, what kind of lessons would we be able to learn. There are voices, millions of them, all the time speaking at the same time. There is unimaginable wisdom and insight being spoken simultaneously, every nanosecond of every day. Then there is another voice, it is the one we attach ourselves to, if not challenged, soon it will control us. No, it would be somewhat of an emotional workout, if we had the chance to bring a chair, from a household, maybe the DR, one that had 80 years of provisional service to a family, a large family.

When talking to Yvelise (la senora), I reminded her that I would be leaving in a few days to return to the States. The determination to not be emotional could be seen if you looked close into her eyes, her years of hardship and struggle taught her to be strong and not assume anything. She invited me to sit and have a cup of coffee with her. She asked me if I would be interested in going to visit her parents. They live in the north part of Santiago. Upon agreeing, we caught a transport car at the corner by the prison, and headed off to visit family.

The first place we went to was her sister, who works in a sport clothing factory. Yve does also. They make about .69 - .72 per hour. This is around 1600.00 US per year. Owing the street is very common; as they have no credit score or credentials other than the clothes on their back and some humble belongings that give them some connection to self-perseverance. They can borrow from their version of a credit union that is directly connected to their paycheck. The interest is anywhere from 7 – 19 percent with a good standing. The street loans are 300 percent for 6 months. The normal street loan is around 500 – 750 pesos. This is like 11.00 to 13.00 US dollars. In 6 months you owe around 1800 pesos. This hardship keeps many in financial slavery their whole life. Most of them owe around 50.00 to 125.00 US on the street for most of their life. This is like 2500 to 5500 pesos. Many mothers groom their daughters, and sons, for the day when they themselves will take the ride to the nearest resort areas, and there begin to pay down the debt that has brought them an existence. The mothers gather in the barrios off the trodden path and wait for a return on their investment, and by phone, and by wire transfers, only blocks away, the mothers themselves wire the money inland or even blocks away, out of sight to most, to the sharks of the street. They talk about the major players, who exploit the young who fight for survival of the DR. They shake their heads, yet recognize the internet sites that generate a frenzy of appetite exploiting the young of the island, in order to satisfy ones primitive desire to partake of the euphoria this lifestyle provides. These are not emotional intimate creatures that are enjoyed, no, they are instruments of survival. From my mouth comes a truth, a sad truth. It is a way of life. These instruments return to their homes, they play, sing and laugh with their younger siblings and little by little initiate a thought that one day becomes a reality. The day comes when these young and beautiful themselves will teach those arriving into their blossoming years, the self-perseverance of survival.

From Christopher Columbus’s journal we read.

” They afterward came to the ship's boats where we were, swimming and bringing us parrots, cotton threads in skeins, darts, and many other things; and we exchanged them for other things that we gave them, such as glass beads and small bells. In fine, they took all, and gave what they had with good will. It appeared to me to be a race of people very poor in everything.”