The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

So, I realize that it has been AGES since I last updated my blog but I have been trancada in my site and am just now in the capital where I have access to that god of an invention known as Wi-Fi. That said, there are a few random incidents that I thought were blogworthy. For example, one day I went to the "far" colmado (being about 20 steps away instead of 15) because my usual was closed for lunch. As I was purchasing my usual gourmet lunch (bread, cheese, etc.), the little muchacha who works in the colmado (one of four siblings who essentially run it for their parents) said, "Ah, Sarah. A buen tiempo!" Which always means: FOOD. As I had happened to arrive as their lunch was being served, they regalar-ed me a whole plate of moro (rice and beans mixed) with chicken! Might not seem like that big of a gesture, but I am sometimes taken aback by the extreme generosity of many Dominicans. No matter how rich or poor, sharing (especially food) is as inbedded in the culture as bachata and merengue. I stood there at the counter enjoying a delcious domincan meal (though I admit, I had to decline the chicken claws) from a family that hardly knows me and for whom I have done absolutely nothing. I know we may complain a lot, but Dominicans are freaking sweet.

That said, not EVERY aspect is so desireable. The other day, por ejemplo , I discovered that the new cock fighting location is DIRECTLY in front of my house. Gather 'round kids, lets watch two chickens peck each others' eyes out. Not exactly this Animal-Planet-loving volunteer's idea of recreation.

I am also at issue with the tigueres who get drunk and, subsequently, very angry, and decide that throwing bottles is a fun idea. When I went to some INSANE festival on the malecon (pictured above) the other night, I spent about one hour with Pilar and her family, treking through a humongous crowd. As we stood around waiting for Pilar's two sons, suddenly people started RUNNING for their lives, screaming and practically trampling one antother. Apparently, this was the signal that all of the borrachos were breaking their Jumbo bottles and throwing them, cutting each other, etc. I later learned that this is a REGULAR occurance and that there are often innocent bystanders who end up bleeding from head to toe. Luckily for me, Pilar treats me like I am 9, grabbed my hand, and RAN with me to our pick up truck, at which point I and about 13 muchachos hopped in the back and we flew back up to the barrio. On the way home, they taught me where the "women for sale" are and starting yelling "5 pesos!!" at them. Let's just say, I was happy to get home to my quiet house and my insane little kitten pie!